Where in the World is Karnac, MB?

We’ve all had the experience of reading something when a word, a name, or a concept piques our curiosity and sets us off on a research quest. This often happens when I am working with human history collections at the Manitoba Museum and regularly inspires my inner ‘Nancy Drew’.

One such search started with a donation mailed from England. About 40 years ago the donor had purchased a box of old cards and letters for a few pence in a second-hand shop. Amongst them was a black-bordered letter sent by Leonard Beer to Mary Thurman in Sheffield England, dated June 1914. Sadly, the letter contained a funeral card for Leonard’s wife Rebecca Annie and their infant daughter Mary. Leonard lived at 499 Inglewood, Karnac, MB. The donor asked if we knew where Karnac was located as he was unable to find it on a map.

A quick search of reference books on Manitoba geographical names didn’t turn up any results, past or present. Fortunately, we live in a world with vast on-line resources at our fingertips. The next step was a quick Google search for Karnac which naturally turned up thousands of hits for the famous Karnak temple complex near Luxor, Egypt. It is not unusual for Manitoba communities to be named for places all around the world.

The Karnac Post office was located near the corner of Roseberry St. where today you will find the Good Earth Restaurant. The block from Roseberry to College was home to numerous shops including John Watson Co. Grocers at 1849 Portage, while Ralph R. Magee, ran the post office and a drug store next door at 1849-1/2. By 1918 at Harold Harris operated the grocers and Alex J. Perrie was the new druggist and postmaster. According to The History of Pharmacy in Manitoba, 1878-1953 Percy Braund opened the first pharmacy in St. James at the corner of Roseberry and Portage in 1910. Ralph Magee was the first manager and he purchased the business in 1913. He was succeeded by Alex. J. Perrie ran Perrie’s Pharmacy until he retired in 1945.

On May 1, 1913 the Winnipeg Free Press had reported that a new post office would be opening in St. James, “in R. Magee’s drug store at the corner of Roseberry street and Portage Avenue”. Known as the Karnac post office, it was intended to serve “all the district lying between Brooklyn and Rutland streets”. This would be the third post office in the area along with the St. James post office and the King Edward at the Winnipeg city limits. Readers were reminded that they should add the proper post office to the address rather than just name and St. James or a street address and ‘city’ in order to avoid a delay in mail reaching its destination. That would explain why our letter writer, Leonard Beer, used Karnac as his return address.

The same article mentioned that “the residents of St. James would like to draw the attention of their Winnipeg correspondents to the fact that letters sent to them require a two-cent stamp as St. James is not in the city” where only a one-cent stamp was needed. Residents of St. James often “have to pay two cents extra before they can receive their mail on account of only a one-cent stamp being on the envelope.” On March 17, 1916 the paper reported a change in policy meant that “all territory adjoining the city has been taken into the Winnipeg postal area.” Postage rates within the city had doubled to 2¢ but the 1¢ surcharge to mail a letter from Winnipeg to Karnac was no longer required. Readers could also look forward to letter carrier delivery in the future.

In the end, a simple question from a donor about an unusual place name led me to some interesting postal and neighbourhood history. Along the trail, I also discovered the Karnac Picture Palace or the Karnac Theatre, not far from the post office at 334 Roseberry and Ness Ave. It appears to have operated from 1915 to 1920. But that will have to be a case for another day.

What do you think of first when you think of a museum specimen? A taxidermy bison? A pinned butterfly? The skeleton of an entire pliosaur? A museum could answer with: study skin, skeleton, taxidermy mount, fur/pelt, wet specimen, thin section, microfossil, slab, herbarium specimen, dried, pinned, in silicone, nest, egg . . . the list goes on! Preservation in natural history collections takes many forms, and all have their benefits in different fields. As Collections Management Specialist, it’s my job to take care of and properly store all these different specimens, and I’ve come across a couple distinctions to share with you.

Mount vs. Skin

Taxidermy mounts are very exciting for exhibits and dioramas, and help us visualize the animal as it was in life. It may be posed alone or in a group, displaying behaviours or doing activities in a snapshot of what is observed in the wild. Mounts can be nearly any kind of animal: bird, mammal, reptile, fish, insect, or amphibian.

Study skins are a kind of taxidermy in that they are the skin of an animal that is stuffed, but it is not posed, and often lies flat. As opposed to mounts, study skins take up comparatively less space in collections cabinets yet offer just as much information about the exterior of the animal. They also allow researchers to study aspects of the environment through chemical changes in the isotopes in the animal’s skin. Study skins are usually birds and smaller mammals. Furs and pelts are similar to study skins, but are not stuffed; they usually come from larger animals, like deer, bears, seals, and big cats.

Wet vs. Dry

The Museum’s collection of “wet” specimens are those animals which are stored in alcohol or other fluid preservative. Some of us may imagine a creepy laboratory of things floating in jars, but fluid-preserved specimens have the unique advantage of preserving the entire specimen, including internal contents. The fluid preservative prevents the specimen from decaying, and researchers are able to later decant specimens for anatomical dissection, or for new preparation as a skeleton. The most common specimens preserved in this nature are fish, reptiles, amphibians, or invertebrates like molluscs, but sometimes even birds, mammals and plants are preserved this way as well.

The opposite of these are “dry” specimens, which are left to dry rather than being submerged in fluid. For molluscs, this means only the shell is preserved. For all other animals, “dry” preservation involves drying the skin and/or skeletonizing the bones. The benefit of dry specimens is that the tissue is not chemically altered by the alcohol or fluid preservative it would be stored in. Fluid preservative often discolours specimens, and it is easier to access and handle specimens when they’re dry.

3D vs. 2D

Three-dimensional (3D) specimens are the most common kind of specimen throughout the Museum, which makes sense, given all the specimens in jars or mounted in exhibits. However, a surprising number of natural history specimens are actually two-dimensional (2D) in nature. The majority of the botany collections at the Manitoba Museum are dried, pressed plants adhered to paper sheets, and stored flat, almost like files in folders. These herbarium specimens preserve characteristics of the plant such as roots, leaves, stalks, and flowers, and can record a particular stage in a plant’s annual or life cycle. (If you’ve ever pressed a flower in a book at home, you’re part of the way along to making your own herbarium specimen!) A few specimens, however, have characteristics that are best preserved by keeping them 3D—things like lichens, fungi, moss, and fruits are stored in boxes rather than pressed flat.

Another surprising place to find 2D specimens is in the paleontology collections. “Thin sections” are very thin slices of rock, made in order to access a cross-section of a fossil. These are especially helpful when looking at prehistoric corals, plants, and anything with a structure that can be studied as a slide under a microscope.

Real vs. Replica

Multiple Parts

A “specimen” in natural history is an item or collection of related items with one catalogue number. For example, an animal that is donated to the Museum will become one specimen with one catalogue number, but may be prepared in a way that results in multiple parts, such as both a skin and a skeleton. Both of these parts will receive the same catalogue number, so we know they’re from the same animal.

But how does the Museum store multiple different parts of the same specimen? Sometimes they are separated, and have to be stored in different places in the collections. For small animals like voles or shrews, the skeleton and skin of one animal can be stored in the same cabinet: the skeleton stored in a vial, and the study skin laid flat. In the case of some deer, caribou, and wapiti, the huge skin is stored in one cabinet, the skeleton is stored in another, and the antlers and skull are stored on a wall rack.

Bird nests and their associated eggs are also usually separated, as material used to build the nest may degrade over time in ways that can damage the eggs if they are left in place. As well, bird eggs should be stored with a lot more cushioning, to protect them from being crushed.

Fossils with multiple parts are usually stored together, even if moulds or thin sections are made of the specimen. Herbarium specimens can also have multiple parts stored together. For example, if parts of a specimen accidentally fall off of the sheet, they can be stored in a paper packet that is labelled and attached back onto the sheet.

Hopefully this has shed some light on the different kinds of natural history specimens, how they’re stored, and how they can be used. Each museum will differ in what specimens they keep and how they house them, but these are some of the basics that I’ve seen and worked with at a couple different institutions. If you’re curious about specimens you see in the galleries at the Manitoba Museum, ask a volunteer or member of staff about them—we’d love to tell you more!

Picture this: You’re working alone in the collections room, inspecting the insect collection for evidence of pests, when you hear a noise coming from one of the cabinets behind you. The noise has a familiar skittering quality, similar to the dreaded sound of squirrels running around in your attic, followed by a loud thud. You think to yourself, “I looked in that cabinet just ten minutes ago, and I am very confident that there could not be a live squirrel in there.” You briefly (and humorously) consider that the cabinet could be haunted by the ghosts of the insects stored within, but that would be very silly as this is a collection of Natural History, not Supernatural History! With squirrels and ghost ruled out, you take a deep breath to steel yourself, and slowly open the cabinet door…

This is the situation in which I found myself at the beginning of April, and upon investigation I was able to determine the source of the sound. While a live rodent or a vengeful spirit would have been frightening, the real culprit was enough to make this Collection Technician’s blood run cold! The glass window in the lid of an insect drawer had peeled away from its adhesive (the skittering), followed by the pane of glass landing on the inner walls of the box below (the thud).

Image: With the glass removed from the lid, the old adhesive is exposed. © Manitoba Museum

The old glue came off the glass easily, needing nothing more than a firm rub with some damp paper towel, but the lids were more stubborn. For those, I used a utility knife to peel, pick, and pry at the glue until it was all gone. With the old glue out of the way, I cleaned both the glass pane and the lid with damp paper towels, and let both dry. Next, I applied a thin layer of caulk to the lid everywhere that it was supposed to make contact with the glass, and gently laid the window into its place. A bit of gentle pressure was applied to the other side of the glass to spread the adhesive around for complete and even contact between the wood, caulk, and glass. To finish the job, I wiped away the excess caulk leave everything clean and tidy.

The Manitoba Museum celebrated its 50^th anniversary at its current Rupert Avenue location in 2020, but did you know that collecting and preserving artifacts and specimens in Manitoba started in an official capacity around 1879? That year, the Scientific and Historical Society of Manitoba was founded, with a mission to research and preserve the scientific and historic work being done in the province.

While a formal museum had yet to be created, both the Scientific and Historical Society and private collectors put on temporary exhibitions throughout the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries at various venues and private residences throughout the province.

In 1932, the collections-specific Manitoba Museum Association, an unincorporated entity, was established and an official brick-and-mortar museum opened at the Winnipeg Civic Auditorium, which also housed a concert hall and the eventual Winnipeg Art Gallery. On December 15 of that year, its inaugural exhibit about butterflies and moths soft-launched with subsequent exhibits opening as equipment, such as glass cases, were purchased. By May 1934, 50,000 visitors from around the world had made a visit to the new Manitoba Museum.

The Manitoba Museum operated with a small staff and a group of volunteers, advisors, and honorary curators. Honorary (volunteer) curators of botany, vertebrates, invertebrates, and “ethnology” were all professors from the University of Manitoba, with honorary assistants to the curators coming from both academia and the community. These roles focused on collecting specimens and artifacts, creating exhibits, and presenting lectures on relevant topics.

The History and Archaeology departments occasionally still reference the original accession ledgers that date to the inception of the museum. These ledgers detail basic information about objects acquired from the public – listed under the headings of donor (or vendor), locality, object, and particulars. The history objects were divided into four separate categories – Firearms & Military, History & Early Settlers, Ceramics, and Numismatics. The archaeological objects were accessioned into a single ledger by date. Not to worry, our conservation department has since encapsulated the individual pages for longevity’s sake.

In 1997, the Museum dropped the “of Man and Nature” from its legal name and became known as the Manitoba Museum once again. Do people still occasionally ask if I work at the “Man and Nature”? Why, yes, they do.

Pictured above is a beaded coaster made by Mrs. Dinah Monias Beardy and donated to the museum in 1979. The coaster depicts the original Manitoba Museum of Man and Nature logo. Mrs. Beardy’s son is renowned artist Jackson Beardy, whose work is featured in the Boreal Forest Gallery. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H4-1-451

A common human trait is to obtain and store our belongings. And, maybe without even thinking, storing them in a relational way that makes sense to us, such as in a sock drawer, or stored together in some logical manner for use, like tools in a toolbox. At the very least, items are stored in a place where we know we can find them when we need them.

Museums around the world, including here at the Manitoba Museum, have much the same approach when storing their collections. There are over 300,000 specimens in the permanent collections of the Natural Sciences section, of all different types, shapes, and sizes, and they all need to be stored in a systematic way so that we can find them when they are required for research, education, or exhibits.

Lichen specimens are stored in individual trays, and have labels with their catalogue number, identification and data.

Images above: Left – Pinned beetles of the Carabidae Family are stored in special drawers with other specimens of the same species, separated by interior boxes. Right – Micro-fossil shells are adhered to special slides with numbered sections in order to distinguish them.

Another type of specimen that we had to devise a storage method for were fungal spore prints. Spores are the tiny microscopic structures that fungi disperse for reproduction and are thus similar in function to plant seeds. The spores are produced on the underside of the spongy or gilled mushroom cap. To assist with identifying the species of mushroom, we collect these spores, and then carefully store them. A spore print is made when mushroom is freshly collected. A piece of black paper is placed under the cap to catch the spores that will be released. The resulting print basically looks like dust in the shape of the mushroom cap. What gives us the information we need to identify them is the colour of the spores – these can be white, cream-coloured, rusty, black or brown. We have found that we can store these fragile paper prints similar to photographs. We place them in plastic CD cases, using photo mounting corners to hold the paper flat; the disk lid closes to protect the print surface from being disturbed.

These cream-coloured spores help scientists identify the species of mushroom that they came from.

Above: Taxidermied head of a Bison stored on a custom-wheeled dolly for easy transportation. It will be enclosed in protective poly sheeting for storage.

Large mammal skulls, like caribou and elk, can have enormous antlers, and certainly pose another storage challenge. We have adopted a simple and effective storage solution using heavy-duty custom metal frames that are locally fabricated. The frames are spanned with expanded metal centers, and installed where we have open wall space. The large skulls can then be secured and hung on the frame. We are fortunate in that we have large areas of open wall space!

Our next storage challenge is how to store a 25 ft. long whale jaw that weighs 200 lbs!

Our human history collection is full of special objects, highlighting significant points in Manitoba’s past –like Cuthbert Grant’s medicine chest or the replica of the Nonsuch. Yet we also make a point of collecting objects that represent everyday life in Manitoba – cans of soup, well-loved toys and farming implements. These mundane objects surprise people, since most of us consider objects we use routinely to have little historical value. Then there are objects that baffle even the seasoned museologist, begging questions like what and, most importantly, why?

Early in my days working with the human history collection, I was searching for a medical-related artifact in an area of our storage room rife with old medicine and surgical tools. I pulled an unlabeled box off a high shelf to have a look inside and was shocked to find it full of dentures –it gave me quite a start. I wish I could say it was the only time that box of dentures had scared me.

Only one pair of our dentures can be linked to a specific person; the others were donated by the Manitoba Dental Association or have no known source. So if they don’t belong to a historical figure, why collect them? Dentures have been made of various materials for centuries. Wood, human and animal teeth, ivory, bone, and porcelain have all been used to fashion false teeth throughout history. Modern dentures are made from synthetic materials like acrylic. The dentures in our collection capture techniques and materials at a specific moment in time, allowing researchers to make comparisons to older and newer generations of false teeth.

The previous artifacts are odd, true, but everyone knows that teeth are needed for chewing and enunciating and everyone loves a good laugh, but this artifact can turn stomachs and bewilder minds better than no other.

During the Victorian era, the popularity of jewellery made of human hair saw a definite rise. Hair would be collected from a loved one and woven into intricate patterns to make bracelets, brooches, earrings and necklaces. Wearing mourning jewellery fabricated from the hair of deceased relatives was common amongst Victorian women. People also made wreaths from human hair to display on their walls, often taking hair from multiple family members to complete a single wreath.

This example was made in Ontario by Mary Jane McKague and brought to Manitoba in 1881, first to Emerson by train and then transported by ox cart to the community of Coulter south of Melita where Mary Jane and her husband John homesteaded. Mary Jane died in childbirth delivering her sixth and final child in 1895. Her wreath was carefully kept by her eldest daughter and later three of her granddaughters before they donated it to the Manitoba Museum in 1985. It is one of several examples of Victorian hair art and jewellery in our collection. Even if the thought of handling human hair is unsettling, these objects are an important part of our understanding of 19^th century society, fashion and the Victorian mourning process.

What commonplace objects that we think nothing of today will give pause to museum collectors of the future? Only time will tell!

As the label suggested, inside I found a collection of insects that are known to be destructive to museum collections. Capable of eating textiles, paper products, dried plants, and furs, these little insects can be a huge problem if allowed to reproduce in the museum. The specimens were old, their data labels yellowed with age, collected between the ‘70s and the ‘90s by watchful staff right here in the Manitoba Museum. 

On an ecological note, it is important to bear in mind that there is nothing inherently “bad” about the organisms we have labeled here as pests. In nature, these insects act as nutrient recyclers and food for many other animals. It is only when their behaviour impacts the livelihood and resources of humans that an animal becomes a “pest”. In this situation, we are simply at odds – our job is to acquire and protect a vast collection of objects with historical and scientific value (or, as the pests would call it, “a huge pile of food with nutritional value”), and their job is to eat well and survive long enough to reproduce. 

All that being said, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the insatiable insects of the Manitoba Museum’s Rogues’ Gallery. 

Interestingly, the adults of this species do not eat at all, so all of the energy they need to disperse and reproduce comes from food eaten by the caterpillar. The adults of the clothes moth tend to crawl rather than fly. This slow and low movement, combined with their understated colour palette and small size, makes them exceptionally sneaky They can avoid detection by humans with ease, making vigilance and pest control measures a must. 

Black Carpet Beetle – Attagenus unicolor

The Larder Beetle – Dermestes lardarius

They eat wool, leather, silk, dried plant materials including seeds and grains, animal furs and skins, preserved insects, and even paper. The larvae of this species are particularly hazardous to our collections, as their small size combined with their capacity to climb walls allows them to get to any food that they detect. As if all that wasn’t enough, the larvae are able to bore through solid materials such as wood and plastic. In some cases, they have even been known to bore into tin cans to get at the preserved foods inside! 

Pest Control Measures

As a basic measure, food items cannot be brought into certain areas of the museum. In the galleries, many displayed objects and specimens are behind glass cases to physically prevent insect access. Baited sticky traps in use throughout the museum are an excellent way to catch insects when they are present, and monitoring them closely allows us to detect problems before they get out of hand. When new items are acquired by the museum, they are frozen twice or exposed to carbon dioxide to get rid of any insects that may be hitching a ride, even as eggs or larvae. Items held in our collections storage rooms are kept in sealed metal cabinets that can keep out even the smallest of insects. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, protection from pests relies on the vigilance of our team. Museum staff monitor items on display and in the collections for signs of insect activity such as feeding damage, shed skins, frass (for the uninitiated, that’s a technical term for sawdust from bore-holes and insect poop), as well as live insects. 

Productive Pest

Further Reading: 

For more in-depth information on our bone-cleaning Dermestid beetles, check out Janis Klapecki’s blog post, Ladies and Gentlemen…The Beetles

Other resources: 

https://extension.umd.edu/resource/clothes-moths
https://museumpests.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Larder-Beetle.pdf
https://extension.psu.edu/larder-beetle
https://entnemdept.ufl.edu/creatures/fabric/black_carpet_beetle.htm 

For each mammal, I started by creating custom mittens for their paws out of Tyvek – a lightweight and durable nonwoven material that is resistant to water and abrasion, and has good aging properties. I used a sewing machine, for the first time, and stitched the Tyvek together with cotton thread so each mitten fit snug around each paw. (Pictured below, left)

The folding method can be simply described as a ‘bear’ hugging itself. Every fold is padded out with volara, a smooth closed-celled polyethylene foam, to add support and prevent creases forming in the skin. Finally, the head sits on top of the folded skin, again padded out with volara. (Pictured below, right)

For the cougar and leopard heads, custom pads were created for each head to sit on away from the body in order to alleviate stress and prevent the skin from creasing on the neck where the head armature meets the skin. (Pictured below, left)

The skins were individually wrapped in polyethylene sheets as an additional barrier from dust accumulation and insects. Custom boxes were built out of coroplast which allow for the skins to be more easily handled as they move in and out of their new home in the collections storage vault (pictured below, right). Overall, this rehousing project improved the preservation of the skins and their storage method. It freed up space, but free space does not remain long in museum collections storage spaces.

Over the past two years, the COVID-19 pandemic has played a central, and disruptive role in all our lives. In the coming decades will COVID become a significant cultural memory, or will we begin to suffer from historic amnesia? Terabytes of information may be deposited in archives around the world. For museums, even ordinary artifacts will become powerful tools to engage visitors.

At the Manitoba Museum, there were no artifacts with which we could relate the story of the influenza pandemic of a century ago. Museums around the world saw the need to begin collecting today for tomorrow. A call was put out for objects that would help mark this event from the Manitoba perspective. To date, over 70 Manitobans have responded to the call.

Over the past months, as I have been integrating these objects and their stories into the permanent collections of the Manitoba Museum, I have been amazed by the breadth and variety of the items. Here’s an initial glimpse our growing COVID-19 collection.

Manitoba’s volunteer spirit was evident early in the pandemic. Sewing machines were dusted off and used to create thousands of masks, gowns, and surgical caps to protect health care workers, friends, and family. We all strove to maintain a sense of community during the pandemic. Signs sprang up in windows, on fences, and along walking paths offering messages of encouragement.

L: Surgical cap from Surgical Caps for Front Line Care Staff. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H9-39-730
R: Sign from Keith Moen, Judy Dyck, Leif & Ruby Moen. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H9-39-348

In early 2020, graphic images of a spiked ball began popping up in the media as stories circulated of a new, potentially dangerous virus. Soon the image was being used in inventive ways. The creativity of Manitobans is evident in many of the donations that use a wide variety of media.

L: Crocheted COVID balls created by Karen Matthews. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H9-39-729
R: Beaded mask created by Kayla Eaglestick. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H4-2-621

The artists’ statements that accompany many of the pieces demonstrate how people seek solace in the arts in a time of disruption. Christen Rachul stamped his pottery with a tiny letter ‘Q’ for Quarantine. Gail Wence took up her embroidery needle, Jacqueline Trudeau her paint brush, and Laurie Fischer returned to writing poetry.

New phrases were added to our everyday vocabulary like “social distancing”, “essential workers”, “lockdown”, “pivot”, and “supply-chain”. The impact on the business community is still significant.  Remember hunting for toilet paper?

Genevieve Delaquis spent her time in line capturing many of the decals that told customers where to stand for their safety. There were also new opportunities. U of W students Alex Kroft and Niels Hurst launched a summer business producing 3-D printed face shields for front-line workers.

Manitoba families endured long periods of separation during lockdowns that robbed them of the opportunity to celebrate life’s milestones. Grandchildren were introduced to family via Zoom. Young people graduated virtually.

With the stores closed for all but essential items, Donalda Johnson created pom poms out of plastic grocery bags and decorated cars for a friend’s retirement parade. 96-year-old Helen Rempel quietly crocheted Christmas ornaments for each of her 26 immediate family members who would not be gathering in person.

Public Health officials and politicians tell us we are moving into a ‘new normal’. It is hard to predict when the Museum will be ready to create a retrospective exhibit about the pandemic. As I write this blog, I am aware that I have omitted many of donations. But in the years to come, the COVID-19 collection may be used in museum exhibits and programs or by students, historians, writers, film makers, and others to tell our story.

As part of the Manitoba Museum’s entomology collection, we house over 60,000 pinned insects, true bugs, and arachnids. In addition, there are a further ~3000 invertebrates preserved in alcohol, also referred to as “wet” specimens. While the majority of the collection are pinned insects in their adult form, there are also examples of the many and varied life stages that occur prior to the adult form, including egg, larval, nymph, and pupal forms. It is important that a scientific collection contain representatives of these life stages (including males and females of each), as they can and do look very different within any given species.

The Manitoba Museum is a research and collections-based museum whose mandate is to collect and preserve both the natural and human histories of the province for present and future generations. Curators conduct research throughout the province in their respective fields of expertise. Specimens are collected during field seasons and are brought to the museum for preparation and subsequent study. Before specimens can be handled and made accessible for study, they must be prepared to maintain their long-term preservation. Fossils need to be exposed from their matrix, plants need to be dried and mounted, and birds and mammals transformed into skins and skeletons. Insects too, must undergo a preparation process in order to stabilize them for storage, and to make them safer to handle. This is where skill meets a bit of art, and sometimes a little luck!

Once in a softened state, the insect is ready for the pinning process. The insect is gently held while a main pin is inserted through the thorax, just below the base of the forewings, and placed perpendicular to the plane of the body. Special entomology pins are used as they are made of metals that will not corrode when in contact with the insect. They come in different gauges to be used with the varying sizes of insects. A large insect, such as a butterfly, will require a thicker pin for sturdiness, and a very thin gauge pin would be used for smaller insects. Anything even smaller, or extremely fragile is “pointed”. That is, where an insect is too small to have a pin inserted, it is instead carefully glued to the ‘point’ of a small triangle of archival card stock and the main pin is then inserted through the point. This main pin is now the only way the specimen can safely be handled.

When the main pin has been properly placed, the legs, wings, and antennae must then be positioned. A pinning board made of soft balsa wood or dense foam is used for specimens with large wings such as butterflies, moths, dragonflies, or grasshoppers. It has a trough where the body can be lowered, and the wings can then be spread over the flat surfaces of the boards on either side and supported. Spreading the wings properly is a bit like the game “Twister” for the fingers. Insect wings are incredibly fragile, so carefully coaxing them away from the insect’s body without damaging them takes some practice. Add to that, the wings of Lepidopterans (butterflies and moths) are covered in fine, microscopic scales that aid in flight, waterproofing, and coloration that will break off, like dust, if touched. Forceps are gently used to spread the forewing out from the body on one side, and while holding that in place, the hind wing on the same side, is brought out and positioned. Once both wings on one side are in the proper position, a strip of glassine is placed gently over them. Glassine is a smooth translucent paper that will not abrade the scales of the wings. Pins are then inserted just through the paper and into the underlying pinning board to hold everything in place. This process is then repeated with the wings on the other side. The antennae and legs are then moved into place, slightly away from the body, and support pins are inserted into the board to hold them there. This is done so that the legs do not obscure any important identifying characteristics.

After the insect is pinned into the correct position, it is left to dry. Depending on the size of the insect, it may dry in a few days, larger beetles and dragonflies could take over a week. When it is dried, the positioning pins are very carefully removed and it is now ready for data labels to be attached on the main pin below the specimen. Labels are printed on archival paper and contain all the pertinent data about the specimen such as the identification, who collected the specimen, and when and where it was collected. This data is also entered into our collections management database. As with all specimens in our collections, it is extremely important to keep each specimen together with its data. The data proves that this exact species occurred in this time and place – it’s recorded proof of that biodiversity snapshot of that time. If the data labels ever became separated from its specimen, its intrinsic scientific value is greatly diminished, or completely lost.

The vast diversity of insects of Manitoba’s Boreal Forest is showcased in the Boreal Gallery and contains over 700 invertebrates. Image: © Manitoba Museum/Ian McCausland

Museum collections all over the world apply these same international techniques and standards when preparing and storing specimens for study. This aids in maintaining consistency between museum collections, and have changed very little over the past several hundred years.

Left: Sir Joseph Banks Insect Collection (1743-1820) Image: © The Trustees of the Natural History Museum, London. Licensed under the Open Government Licence

Right: Present-day insect collection at the Manitoba Museum. Image: © Manitoba Museum