Chasing Ghosts in Brandon

Chasing Ghosts in Brandon

Imagine yourself in the basement of the science building at Brandon University, on a Saturday morning in the summer. The place seems to be abandoned, with the hum of the lights and ventilation the only sounds you hear. Opening a door, you walk into a quiet, darkened laboratory. A curtain closes off one end of the room, and something behind that curtain emits an eerie blue-green glow.

Close-up on a green-lit fossil seaweed.

An Ordovician fossil seaweed from Airport Cove, Churchill, photographed with UV radiation and a green filter.

A computer screen shining through a curtain in a dark room.

Tiptoeing closer, you observe that there is a man behind the curtain, huddled over a pair of computer screens. Beside the computer, a scientific instrument is producing a blinding bluish light. Who is this mad scientist, and what are the nefarious schemes that bring him here at this strange time?

Actually, the man is me, and I am looking at fossils. I travelled to Brandon to use the fine microscope in their Environmental Science Laboratory, by kind invitation from Dr. David Greenwood. At the Museum we have good microphotography equipment, but I had reached its limits trying to sort out the fine structure of some of our unusual fossils. When I visited Brandon a few months ago, David suggested that I might want to try their scope system, which was set up with the aid of a large grant from the Government of Canada.

Two full computer monitors illuminated in a dark room. To the left of the screens is a large microscope shining a blue light onto the base platform.

The digital camera on the binocular microscope feeds into a dual display computer.

Close-up on two computer screens displaying images being picked up through the digital telescope.

The panel on the left screen allows you to select the area being photographed, and to spot focus the image. The right screen shows the captured images.

So a couple of weeks ago, I hauled a variety of fossils out to Brandon, and spent a few days on the binocular scope seeing what it could tell me. It is a lovely Olympus setup, with full digital image capture and focusing, and a variety of illumination options. It took me quite a while to figure out how to get good photos of our material, but once I had it sorted I was very happy with what it could do.

My research colleagues and I are trying to sort out the fine structure of some of the unusual fossils we have collected in the Grand Rapids Uplands and the Churchill area, things like horseshoe crabs, eurypterids, and jellyfish. I felt a bit rushed trying to look at the many specimens of these, but in several instances I was struck by the sudden realization that I was seeing features that I had never been able to make out before.

Close-up on a piece of a fossil showing numerous legs of an Ordovician eurypterid.

Some of the legs of an Ordovician eurypterid (“sea scorpion”) from the Grand Rapids Uplands.

Close-up on a speckled fossil of an Ordovician arthropod.

Spectacularly preserved cuticle of an Ordovician arthropod (joint-legged animal) from Airport Cove, Churchill.

A series of images taken of a fossil displayed on a computer screen.

The front image is a UV photo of the central part of a fossil jellyfish from the Grand Rapids Uplands.

This sense was particularly striking when I was able to image specimens under ultraviolet. Although none showed the bright fluorescence I had hoped for, some of the images were very different from those under standard lighting. With their odd greenish glow, I sometimes felt as though I was seeing the ghosts of the long-departed creatures.

Speaking of Vacuuming…

A significant part of the conservator’s job is cleaning. At the Manitoba Museum, our numerous open dioramas require regular vacuuming. The larger dioramas require a team of staff including the Conservators, Diorama Artist, Exhibit Assistant, and whichever Collections Assistants we can round up. We try to get to every diorama once a year.

A dark-haired woman wearing white coveralls and a red backpack vacuum as she holds the hose to vacuum off the face of a taxidermized bison.

Lisa vacuums a bison.

A woman crouches under a taxidermized moose as she holds the nozzle of a vacuum onto a screen covering a rock in the diorama.

Vacuuming through a screen in the Boreal Forest diorama.

The vacuuming must be done carefully, so parts are not pulled off. That’s why we use screens, and vacuums that are portable and have adjustable suction.

Sometimes, for vacuuming small and/or fragile artifacts or specimens, we put screening over the vacuum nozzle, or use micro-attachments made for cleaning computers and other electronic equipment.

A teal bodied vacuum with a hose loosely wound around the body.

We use household vacuums for most things.

An individual holds up the nozzle and hose of a vacuum cleaner from out of frame, and with their other hand uses a small brush to brush dirt towards the mouth of the vacuum.

Brushing dust into the vacuum.

Close-up on the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner with screening held over it with an elastic band.

A piece of window screen can prevent the loss of any parts.

Dirt and dust can be damaging. They may attract insect pests, can be aesthetically disfiguring, or obscure important information, and can even cause physical harm by, for example, microscopically tearing fragile threads on an old textile.

The most important thing we remember is to remove as much dirt and dust as possible, without harming the object.

A Museum of a Museum

I recently attended the annual meeting of the Canadian Society of Ecology and Evolution in Banff, Alberta. However, being stuck inside a building on several beautiful sunny days was agonizing and on several occasions I found myself gazing wistfully out the windows at the mountains beyond. Fortunately, visiting other museums while I travel is an important part of my job as it helps me to plan exhibits here at the Manitoba Museum. This trip was no exception and I was able to visit the Banff Park Museum during a long lunch break one day.

A multi storey wooden building. The main floor consists of primarily windows under an awning stretching the perimeter of the building. Wooden benches are placed periodically under the windows.

The Banff Park Museum in Alberta.

A smiling individual posing beside a display case containing a variety of taxidermized birds.

Next to a case of very old birds.

The Banff Park Museum is such an old museum (1903) that the building and its collection were protected as a National Historic Site in 1985. So basically it is a museum of what old museums used to look like. Apparently in the late 1950’s some people in the community wanted the Museum torn down and replaced with a new building and more modern exhibits. Looking around at the beautifully crafted wooden cases, hundred-year old specimens and gorgeous Douglas Fir wood panelling on the ceilings, I was thankful that cooler heads prevailed.

The Museum contains numerous “cabinets of curiosity”, as they used to be called. These cabinets contain more than 5,000 mounted birds, mammals, insects, plants and eggs collected in western Canada mainly between 1890 and 1930. Some of the “newer” exhibits created in 1914, displayed animals in their habitat, an approach that was considered radical at the time. Eventually this approach evolved into our modern-day dioramas. Nowadays some Museums are tearing down their dioramas and putting in “cabinets of curiosities” again, albeit with a modern twist. So I guess that “what goes around comes around” even in Museum design. I myself tend to think that what is most desirable is a mixture of the best of both, especially when many dioramas themselves have become worthy of preservation.

A taxidermized bison and calves in a large squared display case, with a prairie groundscape set up.

A “radical” new diorama circa 1914.

A wooden door with a large window in the front. Printed on the door is "Office / Curator of Museum". A white sign hangs in the window - unintelligible due to image quality.

The Curator left and never came back.

The Banff Park Museum is a museum of a museum in yet another way-there has not been a Curator there since 1932 when the last one retired. What this means is that the collection has effectively “died”. Curators keep collections alive through research, promotion and interpretation. Collections that cease to grow cannot incorporate new, valuable information about genetic, population and ecosystem changes over time. Without this information, our societal ability to make wise decisions about resource use is hindered. Curators ensure that information from the collections is accurate and promote collections use by anyone who needs it, such as scientists, managers, and government employees. Curators are also able to interpret the collection in the context of our current society. Unfortunately the important supporting role that collections play in science is rarely understood or appreciated, even by some scientists.

 

Image: An orchid on display at the Museum.

I was reading the job description of the ideal Curator in the Museum’s interpretive brochure. Professor John Macoun suggested in an 1895 correspondence that the ideal Curator should possess the following qualifications:

  • “A man of wide intelligence;
  • Energetic (not a hotel lounger);
  • Ought to be able to skin a bird or mammal;
  • Will talk natural history, mineralogy, geology or anything else to the visitor, and
  • A political bloke should be the last man for that place.”
A museum display case featuring a number of insect specimens.

What’s amusing is that a natural history Curators’ job description hasn’t really changed in a hundred years! You still need to be energetic to conduct field work and collect specimens. You still need to know how to prepare specimens for preservation. You still have to have a broad interest in natural history and the ability to communicate with visitors. And we are most definitely NOT “political blokes”. Really the only thing that has changed is the technology that modern Curators employ. I use a palm pilot to record my field notes instead of a notebook, a GPS to navigate instead of a map and compass, and a blog page to “talk natural history” with the visitor. It seems that “the more things change the more they stay the same”.

 

Image: Museum display of pinned insects.

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Curator of Botany

Dr. Bizecki Robson obtained a Master’s Degree in Plant Ecology at the University of Saskatchewan studying rare plants of the mixed grass prairies. After working as an environmental consultant and sessional lecturer…
Meet Dr. Bizecki Robson