O Say Can You See?

Victorian-era photographs...of the moon? In 3-D?!

I have long had a great interest in the history of photography and consider myself an expert in that field, so volunteering in the Museum’s photographic history collection is perfect for me. The collection contains many truly great and priceless items from the history of photography and it really excites me to look at them and hold them. Two objects from the Victorian era are particularly interesting to me. Why? Because taking a 3-D photograph of the Moon should not be possible—at least not to Victorian photographers—but they figured out how to do it!

The two photographs of the last quarter Moon used for the stereo card shown here were taken by noted pioneer astrophotographer Henry Draper (1837-1882). His father, John Draper, was the first to photograph the Moon in 1840. Henry took a series of detailed photographs of the Moon in 1863 using a reflecting telescope. It was these photographs that were used to make 3-D cards of the Moon including the one shown. They are important because they are the very first 3-D images of an object in space.

A stereoscopic photograph requires two slightly different views seen through a special viewer. Using binocular vision, our brain takes in the two images and translates them into a perceived three-dimensional effect. The average separation between an adult's eyes is 3 inches, and we can see objects up to 300 feet away in 3-D. To achieve a 3-D view of distant astronomical objects, the separation between our eyes needs to be much greater. To see the moon in 3-D the distance between our eyes would need to be about 60,000 miles, or more than seven times the diameter of the Earth!

Thus taking a 3-D photograph of the moon from the Earth looks impossible, but Victorian-era photographers proved that with patience it could be done. The Moon appears to wobble from side to side in its orbit around the Earth. This means that if two photographs of the same phases are taken three or four months apart they are able to give a pronounced stereoscopic effect when placed side by side in a 3-D viewer.

This interesting technique only works for the Moon, but is not without difficulties. The two photographs have to be taken at exactly the same phase of the Moon potentially spread in time over months and using the same camera or telescope. Other possible problems include bad weather, the Moon below the horizon, or the Sun up when the correct phase is reached. These factors could considerably increase the time between two suitable images. However, Henry Draper overcame all these problems to make several 3-D photographs of the Moon. The Photographic History Collection also includes three additional stereoscopic cards made from photographs by Draper, two cards of the Moon at first quarter and one card of the full Moon.

Anthony Brooks is a volunteer in the Photographic History Collection at the National Museum of American History. He retired in 2005 from a 30 years plus career as a nuclear scientist.

Knight at the museum

There are many heroes in the highly entertaining box-office hit, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian. First we have Larry Daley, the former security guard now product development mogul, who accepts the challenge to rescue his friends—museum collections—from the ultimate embarrassment of being kept in storage at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. Amelia Earhart, the spunky aviator who keeps Larry both distracted and focused on his mission, steals and literally shapes the movie’s final scenes. Former presidents Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt dispense wit and wisdom and give support to Larry at critical moments. And we cannot ignore the pivotal role Albert Einstein plays by giving Larry the clue to decode a powerful and life-giving tablet.

For me, however, I see real heroism in Dr. McPhee, the museum director. I know this may sound a little self-serving since I direct a museum. I also know that he appears briefly and seems completely baffled by the changes swirling about him. But, from my perspective, he makes two key decisions that drive the plot of this delightful movie. First, he decides to close the Museum of Natural History for renovations and introduce new technology to replace the old, tired dioramas and original artifacts. Second, he brings the old collections back but revives the galleries with lively, interactive programs in which history really does come alive.

It is true that Dr. McPhee makes these changes under considerable prodding and duress. His museum board pushed the idea of bringing virtual reality into the galleries in hope of attracting children and their parents. And he is able to restore the original artifacts and displays only because a gift from “an anonymous donor” required him to do so.

Whatever the reasons, Dr. McPhee is facing up to some of the major issues that occupy most of his real-life colleagues. As museum directors try to fulfill our missions to educate and inspire visitors, we are constantly aware of the tensions between tradition and modernity; between the authenticity of the collections and the excitement of new technology; and between the authority of the curator and the demands of the marketplace. In the current environment of dwindling endowments, decreased admission revenue, and shrinking philanthropic giving, museum directors are desperately searching for the code to unlock their own tablets of success.

At the top of the list of concerns for most museums is how to directly attract and involve visitors in the development of exhibitions and programs. A recent article in the publication ARTnews noted museum directors “are reconsidering how to install collections, curate exhibitions, design galleries, write labels, devise programming—and involve audiences, both current and potential, in the process.” To understand the changing nature and expectations of the audience, “some have begun reaching out to scientists, futurists, game designers, and other specialists outside the art world.” Some museums are inviting visitors to participate in ways that were unheard of in the past, even offering a chance to vote on the selection of art that would be included in an exhibition.

Even though admission to the Smithsonian is free and there is an annual appropriation from Congress, we are still buffeted by the same winds of change that are blowing through the corridors of America’s museums. When the National Museum of American History closed in 2006 for a two-year renovation, we had to address the aspirations, needs, and expectations of staff, board members, donors, and visitors. The transformation of the museum included opening up public areas, showcasing collections in new built-in display cases, and creating a “public square” at the heart of the museum for living history performances, naturalization ceremonies, and special events. Since the museum reopened last November, more than 2.5 million people have visited and we are constantly striving to make their experience inspiring and memorable. At the same time, we are dedicating scarce resources to preserving the collections that are of enduring value to the nation.

So, yes, I identify with the hapless yet heroic Dr. McPhee. He is on the cultural frontline fighting to preserve public memory. The real battle of the Smithsonian and of the entire museum community involves managing the complex and competing forces that confront museums today. We can only hope for a Hollywood ending.

Brent D. Glass is Director of the National Museum of American History.

Curating couture

I love clothes. Enough so that souvenir shopping on any vacation is planned around the local thrift stores-the more cavernous and chaotic the better. It’s not about fashion (well, maybe just a little) as much as the tantalizingly mysterious stories that now reside in my wardrobe. On any given day I wake up, throw open the closet doors and ponder the dubious nationality of the naval uniform jacket from a Parisian flea-market or the lengthy journey of a silk scarf from the Spanish Olympic diving team to a bin in a San Francisco Salvation Army shop. Getting dressed is thought-provoking, not routine. Obviously then I’m really a fan of our costume collections, because many of the clothes have stories from the donor: a record of the where, when, why, and how of the garment.

Ruth L. Hensinger's wedding gown.

I got pretty sentimental reading about Ruth L. Hensinger’s gorgeous wedding dress. She made it from the parachute that saved her future husband’s life in 1944 when he bailed out of his plane over China after a nighttime bombing raid. After he proposed in 1947 (using the parachute!) she not only designed the gown around the nylon fabric but made the skirt herself. I'm impressed. Like most of my friends, I can just barely sew a button on my cardigans, forget sewing a wedding dress!

I’m very excited for another wedding gown story at this week’s Meet Our Museum program, “Not a June Bride,” from 12-12:30, June 18 in the Flag Hall. Karen Harris, Associate Curator for the Costume Collection, will be showing off the 1928 dress owned by Anna May Wood, who curated the American Costume Hall at the museum’s opening in 1964. It’s a beautiful dress, and unlike so many of my thrift store finds, its history is open and ready to be explored.

Allison Tara Sundaram is an intern in the New Media program at the National Museum of American History.

Showcasing young historians

At the museum, we aim to bring history alive for visitors every day. This Wednesday the museum will host 19 finalists from the Kenneth E. Behring National History Day Contest to showcase their efforts at bringing history alive.

Each year, more than a half a million students participate in the National History Day contest. Students choose and research a historical topic based on a theme and present their work in original papers, Web sites, exhibits, performances, and documentaries. The Museum hosts twelve state-winning exhibitors from the national competition who are being evaluated at the national competition this week at the University of Maryland at College Park.

National History Day, 2005.

I am nostalgic thinking about my own experiences as a National History participant. I chose to create documentaries for my projects and remember fondly the many hours I spent in the public library and in front of my computer piecing them together. For my documentary titled “Jacob Riis: Taking a Stand for the Other Half,” striking the perfect balance between the journalist’s iconic photographs, a griping narrative and compelling music accompaniment was a challenge. I strived to combine the factors to create an engaging and moving experience for the viewer.

It is easy to see the parallels between the work of the museum and that of these young historians. Here at the museum, curators collect objects and convey their stories through exhibitions that educate, excite, and entertain the visitor. Participants in National History Day work through a similar process, using primary and secondary sources to research a historical topic of interest to them and presenting their findings creatively.

National History Day is an incredibly rewarding opportunity for middle school and high school students. Not only do they learn valuable skills about research analysis, synthesis, and presentation, but they also see first hand that history is a living, breathing subject with room for creativity and exploration. Participants take enormous pride in their work and gain confidence in discussing and sharing their knowledge with peers.

As a new intern, I see that the museum also faces many of the challenges of a National History Day participant. How do you reduce all of your historical research into text concise enough to fit and still coherent enough to tell a story? How do you find and convey the historical significance of your topic? How do you balance hard history facts with appealing design elements? How can you capture all members of your audience and provide them with an engaging experience?

These are difficult questions at any level. Yet the struggle to answer them is what differentiates a museum exhibition and a winning National History Day project from an average text book or history lecture. They integrate research with storytelling, information with visual design, education with excitement, to create an optimal historical experience for the audience – they bring history alive.

Allison Scharfstein is an intern in the Office of Public Programs at the National Museum of American History.

What so proudly we hail’d

This morning I had the pleasure of touring the museum with the grand prize winner of our national anthem singing contest, Jordan Shelton, and her husband. They’ve had a whirlwind tour of the Washington, D.C., area since they arrived Friday evening—a trip to the Marine Corps Museum in Quantico, Va.; a walk past the White House, Ford’s Theater, and the Washington Monument; and an outing to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. And that doesn’t include Jordan’s two outstanding performances at the National Museum of American History and the Baltimore Orioles game at Camden Yards. This is Jordan’s first trip to the nation’s capital but, she says, she’ll be coming back again—there’s just so much to see and do.

Before yesterday’s performance at the museum, Jordan took a tour of the Star-Spangled Banner exhibition with Director Brent D. Glass. That experience, she says—along with reading the exhibition’s companion book—gave her a much deeper understanding of our nation’s anthem. Turning the corner from the exhibition entryway, and into the darkened chamber where the flag is housed, was an experience she will never forget. Seeing that huge flag, Jordan felt a personal a connection with the way Francis Scott Key must have felt and the things that he saw nearly 200 years ago. Just a few minutes after viewing the flag that inspired the national anthem, Jordan performed the Star-Spangled Banner with a better understanding of and appreciation for the meaning of Key’s lyrics and the flag that inspired them.

Jordan’s performance was an important part of the museum’s celebration of Flag Day, which also included a naturalization ceremony, flag-folding activities, and music by the Fifes and Drums of York Town. Just prior to the singing of the national anthem, a group of more than 20 children were sworn in as American citizens. After the ceremony, many of the children rushed toward Jordan to get an autograph and to pose for photos with her. Winning the contest, she says, is the biggest honor she has ever received. “The flag is the ultimate representation of what we stand for, what we fight for, what we believe in. To not only sing the national anthem, but to do it on a day that represents the flag and our history, is so cool,” Jordan says of the experience.

NOTE: If you do not see a video player above, you can view it on YouTube.

Dana Allen-Greil is the new media project manager at the National Museum of American History.