How to Polish a Jellyfish

How to Polish a Jellyfish

By Debbie Thompson, past Diorama and Collections Specialist 

More than 440 million years ago, during the Ordovician Period, northern Manitoba was at the edge of a sea near the equator. Among the many invertebrates that swam and lived in the salty waters were jellyfish. Their fossilized remains are the focus of ongoing research at the Museum.

After years of collecting, specific specimens were chosen to undergo a process called thin sectioning. This process creates ultra-thin slices of rock and fossil, supported by epoxy and glass slides. They are thin enough to allow light to pass through, revealing details about internal structures, which can then be studied using a microscope.

The fossils selected for this process can range in size from one to four centimeters in diameter. Every block is trimmed using a rock saw, so that the block will fit onto a glass slide.  The fossil surface then needs to be polished smooth and to an accurate scale in millimeters written on two sides of the block.

Five individual sitting and standing looking for fossils on a rocky outcropping with buckets and palaeontology tools at hand.

Palaeontologists and volunteers search for fossil jellyfish during Museum fieldwork. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A foil covered hot plate with three objects on it. With a red arrow pointing to it, on the left, is a fossil block, with foil peeled back from the top. WIth a purple arrow pointing to it, on the lower right, is a glass slide, and with a yellow arrow pointing to it, on the upper right, is a recycled yogurt container.

The red arrow points to the fossil block, note the scale (numbers written on sides of block).  The foil is peeled back to reveal the polished fossil surface. The purple arrow points to the glass slide, which has been polished so that epoxy glue will stick to it. The yellow arrow points to a container that is warming one part of a two-part epoxy. The hot plate heats up these components to aid in the even flow and setting of the epoxy. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A polished white fossil block from the side. On the top surface a specimen number is handwritten in black. On the short side a size scale is written in place showing 5-25 mm in increments of five.

Each slide is labeled with the data regarding that particular specimen. If too much epoxy is applied, it will flow over the edges and seep underneath the slide. Here the polished fossil surface has been epoxied to the glass slide. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A fossil block epoxied to a glass slide. A blue-gloved hand from out of frame scrapes the surface with a razor blade.

After the adhesive sets, but before it cures hard, any epoxy that seeped underneath is carefully scraped off using a razor blade, and solvent removes remaining residue. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A fossil block epoxied to a glass slide. A blue-gloved hand from out of frame polishes the surface with a small piece of light blue material.

Normally, a whole day will be spent just gluing the specimens onto the slides.  To help pass the time, it helps to listen to country music while doing this (although the Curator would strongly disagree with my choice of music). Image: © Manitoba Museum

A work station set up with various tools and equipment including earplugs, ear muffs, safety glasses, blue rubber gloves, a sponge, and a high-quality face mask.

Before starting the rock-cutting saw, the radio is turned off, much to the Curator’s delight! The thin section machine is noisy, creating the need for ear plugs and heavy-duty earmuffs.  Safety glasses are a must, guarding against stone chips.  The gloves protect the hands from being water logged for extended periods of time.  A mask is needed to prevent breathing in the water spray laden with sediment, as the water is recycled and gradually becomes dirtier the more it’s used.  The sponge is used to clean up the sludge that accumulates in the tray. Image: © Manitoba Museum

From out of frame a hand wearing a blue rubber glove holds a fossil specimen in place on a machine arm, near a saw blade. The saw is in a green, high-edged container, with murky water at the bottom.

The block is held on the thin section machine’s arm, and gently pushed into the saw. Very thick blocks will require several cuts from each side. Being extremely cautious, this could take me about 5 minutes to cut. Image: © Manitoba Museum

From out of frame a hand wearing a blue rubber glove holds a cut piece of a fossil specimen block. The remainder of the block is attached to the machine arm, near a saw blade. The saw is in a green, high-edged container, with murky water at the bottom.

The cut is finished. The glass slide with the thin slice of rock and fossil is still attached to the arm while I hold the remaining block. On both surfaces, the paler, circular fossil jellyfish can be seen. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A saw in a green, high-edged container with a blue blade on the left side, and an orange-ish blade on the right side.

The saw, with the cutting blade on the left and the polishing wheel on the right. The gauge in the middle indicates the thickness of the slide being polished. The slide will now be moved to the right-hand arm of the thin section machine, where it is polished on a diamond wheel. Image: © Manitoba Museum

Gloved fingers carefully holding the edges of a fossil slice.

The fossil has been cut and partially polished so thin that light begins to pass through it. It is nearly thin enough for microscopic study. The final hand polishing will be done by the Curator, using a slurry of fine grit on a glass plate. The slide is then placed in a protective envelope. In this example, the fossil is near the top left corner of the slide. Some of the internal features are a dark reddish colour, due to the presence of iron oxide. The faint pale outline is the edge of the jellyfish’s bell. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A fossil block laid on a metallic surface. The top fo the block is smooth from a fresh cut. On the short side is written a size scale, showing 5-25 mm in 5 mm increments.

The newly exposed cut surface is re-polished, and the whole process is repeated. Depending on how deep into the rock it goes, each block can yield 4 to 6 thin sections, creating thin slices that are just two millimetres apart. If a new fossil appears, we keep making thin sections. If the fossil disappears, one more slide is made to confirm that we have reached the end of sectioning for that specimen. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A thinnly slices fossil specimen with light shining through from behind. A jellyfish bell is in the centre.

Light passes through a finished thin section, revealing such intricate details as the rust coloured internal canals (due to the presence of iron oxide), and the margin of the bell with faint traces of its tentacles around the outer edges. Ruler is in millimetres. Image: © Manitoba Museum

After sectioning, the slide is scanned on a photographic flatbed scanner. A computer program then digitally assembles the thin section photos for each jellyfish to generate a 3-D image of the body, including internal structures and in some cases, tentacles.

Glass Menageries

A wood and glass parlour case containing several dozen preserved animal specimens posed around a tree branch and ground reconstruction.

Amongst the many and varied Natural History Collections at the Manitoba Museum, is a most unusual collection of ‘cases’. These unique display cases of glass panels held together by dark varnished wood frames, are commonly known as parlour cases. The contents combine the artistry of fabricating faux habitats, with the expertise of creating life-like mounts through taxidermy. Some are as small as to only contain a single mounted Least Weasel, others are several feet tall, and may contain dozens of birds and mammals.

Parlour cases became highly popularized during the Victorian era, from about the early to mid 1800s into the early 1900s. This was a heightened time in the discovery of the natural world, and also coincided with, and was stimulated by, the great scientific exploration voyages of Darwin, and his contemporaries. Parlour cases were born out of this time of fascination and the desire to collect and display specimens.

It was commonplace to display these cases in the reception parlours of well-to-do households, thus the name. Owning and displaying these in your private collection reflected on their owners as having attained a certain level of good taste, intellect, and an aire of affluence; “parlour cred” if you will.

 

A true menagerie – this beautiful example of a traditional parlour case was donated to the Museum in 1973. Image: © Manitoba Museum, MM 3-6-501 to 3-6-532

However, displaying taxidermy mounts was a practice not only reserved for the rich. They were also displayed in schools for educational purposes, and in the houses of commoners, possibly to demonstrate hunting prowess, or as an attempt to be perceived as affluent.

A wood and glass display case containing a pair of Woodcocks, tawny birds with long thin beaks.

This very simply prepared case of Woodcocks was possibly a grade school project – see label “Presented by Dudley Fraser”, date unknown. Image: © Manitoba Museum, MM 3-6-5578, 5579

Early taxidermists were indeed artists and masters of many trades. Expert taxidermists of the time would have been in demand and could command high prices for commissioned work. Not only would they need to know the techniques involved to properly preserve the skin, but they must also have knowledge of anatomy, and aspects of animal behavior. It is extremely difficult to obtain the exact correct posture, or facial expression to match the particular theme of the case, whether it be animals at ease, or reconstructing a predator-prey scenario.

A blue jay specimen posed on a tree branch with wings partially extended and head tilted up with open beak.

Excellent taxidermy of a Blue Jay that mimics John J. Audubon’s artistic vision. Image: © Manitoba Museum, MM 3-6-476

An artist's drawing of two blue jays on a tree branch. The lower of the two birds is posed with wings partially extended and head tilted up with open beak.

Plate 102, from John James Audubon’s Birds of America (1827-1838). Image: National Audubon Society

Knowledge of ecosystems must also be appreciated. For example, which animals and plants would actually be found together in the same habitat, or even in the same season. This knowledge and skill executed in taxidermy scenes, and even the large dioramas in our museum, makes for a highly believable portrayal.

However, some of parlour cases ignored that concept of realism out-right and had mounts of birds and/or mammals that would never have seen each other in a given day, or even in a lifetime.

A bull elk is situated in a parkland habitat full of grasses, herbs, shrubs and trembling aspen trees in the fall at the Birdtail Valley in Riding Mountain National Park.

Expertly prepared life mount of an Elk. This diorama in the Museum’s Parklands Gallery depicts rutting season in Riding Mountain National Park. Image: © Manitoba Museum

A wood and glass parlour case containing a Goshawk specimen standing over its prey, a Vesper sparrow, in a snowy landscape.

Goshawk with Vesper Sparrow prey is an example of two species that might not encounter each other in a North American winter. Image: © Manitoba Museum, MM 3-6-534, 536

Recently, we had to move our entire collection of large parlour cases from where they were stored in our main collections storage vault. Long tracks of ducting were being installed for the new environmental control unit, and we wanted these far from any danger. We took advantage of this move to inspect, photograph, clean, repair (if necessary), and ensure the database information was complete for each one of these large, fragile cases. The taxidermy specimens, faux substrate, glass panels, and the wood framing were expertly cleaned and repaired by the Museum’s conservator Carolyn Sirett.

Two photographs of the same parlour case side-by-side. In the photo on the left, the glass is opaque and white masking tape holds the front panel in place. On the right the glass and case are clean and the tape has been removed.

Before conservation treatment photograph on the left shows the old masking tape “holding” the glass panel in place, and the after conservation treatment photograph on the right shows a much improved parlour case that has been cleaned and repaired. Image: © Manitoba Museum, Parlour Case #3

A close-up on an ermine specimen with teeth bared.

During conservation treatment, the cases were also tested for the presence of arsenic. We were not surprised to find that many of the specimens tested positive.  Now that specimens have been identified, we take extra precautions when we have to handle them, such as wearing gloves and masks.

Arsenic was a common and favoured compound used by taxidermists from the late 1700s to at least the 1980s.  Eventually its use was banned due to its high toxicity to humans. It was prepared as an arsenical soap, and applied to the inside of prepared skins that not only preserved the skin, but also provided protection of the mount from insect damage.  This is the reason why so many of the old taxidermy mounts have survived in such splendid condition!

 

GUILTY! Ermine mount tested positive for arsenic! Image: © Manitoba Museum, MM 24116

Janis Klapecki

Janis Klapecki

Collections Management Specialist – Natural History

Janis Klapecki obtained a B.Sc. from the University of Manitoba, specializing in Zoology and Botany. She also holds a certificate in Managing Natural History Collections from the University of Victoria, BC. Janis retired from the Manitoba Museum in January 2024….
Meet Janis Klapecki

Revamping Madam Taro’s Room

With changes happening throughout the museum, we sometimes find opportunities to update existing exhibits and breathe new life into old favourites. Last spring, when our temporary exhibition about the Winnipeg General Strike, Strike 1919: Divided City, was installed in our Urban Gallery and the entire gallery received beautiful, new mannequins, I jumped at the chance to revamp one of my favourite exhibits – Madam Taro’s room.

Looking down onto the surface of a table where four tarot cards are laid out surrounding a face-down deck: the Emperor, the High Priestess, the Lovers, and Temperance. At the bottom a hand holds a yet-to-be-placed card: the Tower. To the right of the cards is a small ashtray and cigarette holder.

Depending on who you talk to, Madam Taro is a mysterious fortune teller from the old country or a woman earning her living working in the oldest profession. I’m inclined to believe the latter, but I appreciate her ingenuity in maintaining a ruse for decency’s sake. In a nod to her name, we swapped out her “crystal ball” (a glass orb) for a set of tarot cards we have in our collection, a reprint of a tarot deck from 1910, so they fit our time period perfectly. We laid the cards out as if she’s giving a reading, with her ashtray and cigarette holder at hand. We also added a decanter and glasses, in case any of her gentleman callers fancy a drink.

 

Madam Taro is ready to read your tarot card. Image: © Manitoba Museum, H9-30-731

From there, I decided which pieces should be removed from the room; some based on aesthetics (or the vibe, for my younger readers), others because they weren’t in keeping with the time period. We kept the majority of the furniture and bedding in the exhibit, but put most of the “dressings” like pictures, doilies, garments, and knickknacks back into storage. In their place, I wanted to feature objects that one might find in a woman’s bedroom – make up, nail polish, brushes, hairpins, perfumes, and powders. Thankfully, our collection is chockful of beautiful examples of personal care items from the early 20th century, so I had a lot of selection. The existing wardrobe is staged with the door ajar to give visitors a peek at some clothing, shoes, and accessories from our collection.

A wood dressing table with three levels. Each has a doily on it and various personal items including make up, a brush, perfume, and a jewelry box.

Madam Taro’s dressing table adorned with her personal items. Image: © Manitoba Museum

Close up view at a portion of a dressing table. Laid out on a daily are a hairbrush, comb, and hair-pick, as well as several creams and powders.

Close-up of Madam Taro’s personal items. Image: © Manitoba Museum

The main decorative addition to the space is the group of hand fans our talented conservator mounted and hung on the wall as art. This feature complements an existing parasol, feather boa, and astrological chart already decorating the room. We also added a gramophone to the space, along with a few records – and even though you can’t read the labels from the door, I made sure to pick records of the period: for instance, foxtrots by Coleman’s Orchestra, “I’m Coming Back to Dixie and You” by the Peerless Quartet, and “In the Hills of Old Kentucky” by Campbell and Burr.

The less romantic but essential elements of the space include a pitcher and basin for Madam Taro to use for washing up or bathing, and finally, the all-important chamber pot tucked under her nightstand. Her room may have included shared washroom and toilet facilities if any at all, so the chamber pot would come in handy for middle of the night relief.

The most striking change in this exhibit is the new Madam Taro; instead of faceless forms, our new mannequins are lifelike, lending to the story of each exhibit. In this case, we wanted a mannequin who was culturally ambiguous and slightly older, someone who has worked long enough to establish herself and afford the “luxuries” I wanted to showcase in her room. Selecting a head made me feel like I was Princess Mombi in the movie Return to Oz, to be honest! The face we chose has a sympathetic expression with eyes that I feel have a bit of sadness behind them – or like she’s tired after a long day at…the office.

All of these elements – the artifacts, the new mannequin, the staging – work together to create a narrative of a woman working and living in Winnipeg in the 1920s.  Next time you’re visiting the Manitoba Museum, make sure you stop by Madam Taro’s for a reading…and maybe more!

The new mannequin helps to give Madam Taro her personality and enliven the exhibit. Image: © Manitoba Museum
A bedroom. A mannequin of a woman from behind wearing a robe and ruff is seated at a small table with tarot cards laid out on it near a bay window. On the right side of the room is a small neatly-made bed with a quilt folded along the foot. A wardrobe is in the corner across from the centre of frame.
Cortney Pachet

Cortney Pachet

Collections Technician – Human History

Cortney Pachet started working at the Manitoba Museum in 2001 as a tour guide while earning her a BA (Honours) from the University of Winnipeg. She quickly realized that she wanted a career in museums…
Meet Cortney Pachet

Fowlie Collection Homecoming

Throughout its history, the Hudson’s Bay Company had a tradition of recruiting young men from Scotland to serve as clerks, traders, and labourers in its North American posts, offering both adventure and security of employment. Housing and basic needs were covered, but luxuries like sugar, tea, tobacco, and brandy were bought from the post by the men themselves and deducted from their wages. Commerce didn’t stop at the four walls of the post; these men frequently acquired handmade objects from Indigenous women in the communities they lived in, both for their personal use and to send home as gifts for loved ones. Since arriving at the Manitoba Museum, the Hudson’s Bay Company Museum Collection has received donations of these objects from former HBC employees and their descendants, highlighting the skilled work of Indigenous women across Canada. By and large, unfortunately, we lack information on these artisans and turn to our collection for answers – using other objects with similar breading or embroidery styles and techniques that have more robust records, we can often identify which cultures or communities may have produced specific objects.

In the summer of 2018, we received a package from Scotland, full of objects, photographs, and documents that told the story of an HBC employee in northern Manitoba in the 1920s. By the 1920s, HBC was more rigorous in their recruiting process. As opposed to “just showing up” like days of yore, men needed to present personal and professional references and pass a physical examination before being offered a contract. Our new acquisition had all these documents and more…but who was this intrepid young Scot that sailed across the Atlantic to the unknown?

Sephia-toned photograph of a man seated outside, leaning against a building with his legs drawn up, with a pipe in his mouth.

Born May 25, 1902 in Aberdeen, Scotland, George Fowlie lost his father at a young age. After finishing school at Robert Gordon’s College in 1917, he worked at North of Scotland and Town & Country Bank. In 1923, when he entered into service on a five-year contract with the Hudson’s Bay Company as an apprentice clerk at York Factory in HBC’s Nelson River District. We have no concrete evidence as to why Fowlie decided to join HBC or leave the bank; his references were glowing- but his daughter suggested that he was single and looking for adventure. Fowlie made the most of his time at York Factory. He traded his desk job for a cariole and dog whip as Fowlie worked with dog sled teams, creating strong bonds with his canine colleagues. He also formed a tight knit community with his fellow Scotsmen, enjoying music played on the gramophone and partaking in the culture of York Factory, which include socializing and working with the Indigenous community in the area.

 

George Fowlie in York Factory. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-84

Fowlie documented his experiences and the people at York Factory through photography, including his work mates, his dogs, himself playing with local children and sharing a laugh with young women in front of the Anglican Church.

These candid images of HBC employees, local Indigenous peoples and the buildings and landscape also give us a rare glimpse at HBC’s working class and a real idea of what life was like for the community at York Factory.

Three men and a child sit outdoors against the outer wall of a building, wearing hats and coats, along with three seated dogs.

George Fowlie and friends with his canine companions, York Factory. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-76

Sepia-toned photograph of a group of men and women standing outside of a wooden church building. The women are wearing light coloured dresses and hats, and the men are wearing suits and hats. A few in the group are smiling or laughing.

A gathering outside the Anglican church in York Factory. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-107

A sepia toned photograph of three men and a child smiling at the camera. They are standing indoors, with shelves stocked with supplies behind them, and a laundry line of mitts, boot liners, and other clothing items hanging from the ceiling above them.

George Folwie and colleagues, York Factory. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-76

Fowlie also carefully preserved the beloved handmade objects he likely acquired from Cree or Métis women during his tenure at the post –some that he used in his everyday life such as moccasins and gauntlet gloves and some that he sent back to Scotland as gifts for his mother, a number of wall pockets and a beaded belt.

An intricately beaded belt with a light coloured base and colourful beaded flowers.

Beaded belt. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-28

An embroidered wall pocket with dark green edging and colourful floral embroidery on the tan hide of the middle portions.

Embroidered wall pocket. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-33

A pair of worn light tan gauntlet gloves with flower and berry beadwork on the backs of the hand and wrist portion, and a fringe along the outside of the wrist.

Gauntlet gloves. Image: © Manitoba Museum, HBC 018-25

Upon leaving the HBC, Fowlie returned to Scotland and worked as a chauffeur until WWII. Following his service in WWII as clerk in the Royal Air Force, he married Madge Briggs and had daughter Marjorie in 1947. When Fowlie passed away in 1985, his HBC collection was passed down to Marjorie, who appreciated the historical significance of her father’s objects. She decided to donate the collection to the Manitoba Museum, but not before making a quick stop on Antiques Roadshow to showcase these beautiful pieces, and allowing them to be researched and exhibited by the University of Aberdeen. Thanks to George Fowlie and his family’s care, these objects have officially made their Manitoba homecoming.

Cortney Pachet

Cortney Pachet

Collections Technician – Human History

Cortney Pachet started working at the Manitoba Museum in 2001 as a tour guide while earning her a BA (Honours) from the University of Winnipeg. She quickly realized that she wanted a career in museums…
Meet Cortney Pachet

Dioramas: Where Science Meets Art

Post by Debbie Thompson, Diorama and Collections Technician

 

Dioramas are incredible works of “science meets art”. Planning the layout, construction, and content often takes years, with a tremendous amount of research and collaboration with curators, diorama artists, carpenters, and electricians. Volunteers are also a vital part of the making of dioramas; they take on the mammoth task of hand painting individual leaves. But what happens after the fanfare of the grand opening? What happens as time passes by? There are just a few people to keep a close eye on them, monitoring them for insects, rodents, dust, and repairs.

As Diorama and Collections Technician, I am one of those people. One of my main tasks is the maintenance and repair of the dioramas. Many people, of all ages, want to know if what they see in a diorama is real or not. The temptation to reach in and just test a blade of grass, flower, or a leaf on a tree is enticing. Sometimes, damages occur as a result. Then it’s time for repairs.

Along the fence of the rye field diorama is a thin section of prairie. All the tall grasses and flowers are within reach of visitors, and over time, the combination of accidental and intentional handling had led to the degradation of this section of the diorama. What was once a tall grass prairie has been beaten down to a matted mass of broken, unrecognizable stems.

Knowing where to collect the plant materials, receiving permission to collect in that area, ensuring what I’m collecting isn’t endangered nor threatened, and then processing the plant materials to preserve them is only the first step in repairing the damage. Once the plant material is preserved, its original colours have faded, so the plants must be painted “back to life”. Before the plants were even picked, detailed notes on colour are taken so when the plant is painted, it resembles its living counterpart.

Once the plant materials are painted, then it’s time for the repairs.

A portion of diorama base covered in broken stalks of grass and prairie flowers.

This piece of the diorama has been removed from along the fence that is easily accessible to visitors. The foam base had been painted a dirt colour, and originally it had clumps of tall grasses and flowers.  But now, the plant material lies broken. © Manitoba Museum

The same protion of diorama as the previous image, but the ground layer is more bare. Three green arrows point out particular clumps.

I removed all the broken grasses and stems, revealing a few of the original stumps of grass clumps (green arrows). However, these clumps cannot be reused and so must be removed. © Manitoba Museum

The same portion of diorama base as the previous two image, now looking even barer. In places the white ethafoam base is visible through the surrounding ground and grass areas, signified with yellow arrows. Propped up at the back of the piece are a flathead screwdriver and a hammer.

All the grass clumps are removed with a hammer and chisel (yellow arrows). Not only would it look unnatural to have broken grass clumps, but a level surface to work with is needed for the repairs. The exposed white ethafoam will have to be painted back to a “dirt” colour. © Manitoba Museum

The same diorama portion as the previous three images on a countertop from the side. The white portions of foam have been painted to match the dirt (signified by a blue arrow), and in an aluminum tray sits several clumps of grasses (signified with an orange arrow).

Here you can see that the exposed ethafoam has been painted a dirt colour and then allowed to dry (blue arrow). In the aluminum trays is a special solution that the grasses are soaking in (orange arrow). The soaked grass clumps are placed in the chiseled out areas. When the solution dries, it dries clear and hard, cementing the grass clumps in place. This will in time have to be removed the same way, with hammer and chisel, as damages build up. © Manitoba Museum

The repaired piece of diorama ground from the previous four images. The portion now has upright specimens of Little Blue stem grass (signified with a purple arrow), Stipa grass (green arrow), and Slender Goldenrod flowers (two grey arrows).

Here is a newly repaired section of prairie, with Little Blue Stem (purple arrow ), Stipa (another type of prairie grass, green arrow) and Slender Goldenrod flowers (grey arrows). Extra dirt was placed between the newly installed grasses, with sun bleached grass debris sprinkled over top. © Manitoba Museum

From start to finish, this one piece took just over 2 hours to repair. In all, there were 9 pieces that had to be repaired in this fashion.

Many of the dioramas are composed of real, once living plant materials that have been responsibly harvested and preserved using different chemicals and techniques. Examples of these types of plants include the aspens in the rye field and elk dioramas and mosses and spruces in the  Boreal Gallery. However, the green, living looking plants are made of plastic, such as the many plant species in the wolf den diorama. And then there are combinations, like a real stem but plastic flowers, such as the Black-Eyed Susans in the rye field diorama.

I hope this blog gives you a better understanding of what goes into maintaining the dioramas at the Manitoba Museum.

Lesser Known Manitoba Botanists (Part 1)

Post by Karen Sereda, Collections Registration Associate (Natural History)

 

The incredible diversity of the Museum’s herbarium can only be credited to the dedicated collectors of botanical specimens, both modern and historical. Recently, while updating some herbarium specimens, I came across some plants in our collection dating from the early part of the 20th century. The importance of these specimens cannot be emphasized enough, as many of them come from locations that are no longer the same as when these collectors visited them. The stories of many of these early Manitoba collectors are fascinating.

John Macoun

John Macoun immigrated with his family to Canada from Ireland in 1850. Being unsatisfied with farming, John took up teaching in 1856 and developed an obsessive interest in botany. Although he had little formal education he became a Professor of Botany and Geology in Ontario in 1868, and in 1872 was recruited for railway surveys in the west. Due largely to his efforts, natural history came to be regarded as an important aspect of these surveys.

John published extensively, and his 1882 publication “Manitoba and the Great North-west” was wildly popular. It was as a botanical field naturalist, however, that Macoun’s abilities shone.

He was able to recognize new plant forms at first sight, and discovered many new species. Many of these were named after him using the specific epithet macounii.

John Macoun’s autobiography was published in 1922 by the Ottawa Field-Naturalists Club; it has now been digitized. Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson also highlighted John Macoun in one of her blogs.

Formal photograph of an older man with a long beard looking off to the side.

John Macoun in 1891. Image: McCord Museum

A screenshot of a catalogue entry of a botanical specimen with the sections for name of plant, date collected, location collection, and collector name pointed out.

Screenshots of the catalogue entries of a botanical specimen (31715) collected by John Macoun in 1879 in Manitoba © Manitoba Museum.

Close up on a Herbarium specimen catalogue entry with the specimen name Ranunculus macounii.

Catalogued Ranunculus macounii (6348) specimen © Manitoba Museum.

William Alfred Burman

In 1875, William Alfred Burman was persuaded to immigrate to Canada at the age of 18. He studied theology and the natural sciences at university, and in 1880 was sent by the Anglican church to Griswold, now the Sioux Valley Dakota Nation, to teach and establish a mission.

While there, he became fluent in and wrote about the language of the Dakotas. As well, he helped to found the Forestry and Horticultural Association of Manitoba which still promotes horticulture on the prairies. Burman later returned to Winnipeg to lecture in botany and biblical literature, plus act as the steward and bursar for St. John’s College at the University of Manitoba. He had a high opinion of both John Macoun and Norman Criddle (to be discussed in Part 2), two amateur, yet extremely competent botanists. Burman was an avid nature lover, and was also an examiner in botany at the University of Manitoba for many years.

Black and white formal photograph of a middle aged man with a trimmed beard and somewhat stern facial expression.

William A. Burman. Source.

Faintly sepia-toned photograph of a tall rectangular building in an open field with a three sided staircase leading to the front door, and a small bell tower at the top.

Griswold School near Brandon, Manitoba where W.A. Burman taught. Source.

Reginald Buller

Reginald Buller was an eccentric man. Although he went by Reginald, his full name was actually Arthur Henry Reginald Buller.

He was hired by the University of Manitoba in 1904, and the Buller Building is named after him. One of the first six science professors, he taught botany and mycology, and was a prolific researcher.

A perpetual bachelor despite the interests of various women, he never owned a house in Winnipeg, but lived in various downtown hotels his 40 years in Manitoba. Buller was a serious billiards player, and also wrote poetry. He especially enjoyed writing limericks such as this one he based on Einstein’s theory of relativity.

There was a young lady named Bright,
Whose speed was far faster than light.
She set out one day,
In a relative way,
And returned home the previous night.

Formal black and white photograph of a man with neatly arranged hair and a kempt moustache wearing a three-piece suit.

A.H. Reginald Buller in 1904.
Source.

A large four-storey building built of light-coloured stone, with snow covering the grounds in front of it.

Today’s Buller Building at the University of Manitoba. © Manitoba Museum.

If you are interested in more information about Buller,  you can read this article by Dr. Gordon Goldsborough.

 

Part 2 features the next generation of Manitoba botanists; Norman Criddle, Charles W. Lowe, and Margaret G. Dudley.

Going My Way? Conservation of a Streetcar Sign

Post by Angela May, Conservation Intern

The Collections and Conservation Department hosted Angela May on her 15 week curriculum-based internship between September and December 2018. This internship was the final requirement for Fleming College’s Graduate Certificate in Cultural Heritage Conservation and Management.

A somewhat worn looking rectangular sign with cranks on either end of the top. On the face are two fabric strips showing the numbers 0 and 3.

Before artifacts go on exhibition in the galleries, they come to the conservation lab for assessment and treatment if necessary. Recently I began work on preparing artifacts for the upcoming exhibition, Strike 1919: Divided City, including a streetcar sign. The sign consists of iron, glass and painted fabric. When it came into the lab the metal was corroded and dirty, the glass was covered in dust, and the two rolls of numbers painted on fabric were coated in dirt and many of the numbers had yellow staining.

In order to address these issues the sign first had to be taken apart so that each component could be worked on separately. This was done carefully, without causing any further damage, and also documented to make sure it could be put back correctly when completed.

 

Image: Streetcar Sign before conservation treatment showing dust and corrosion. H9-7-13 ©Manitoba Museum

First, the loose dirt and dust was removed from the iron frame using a brush and vacuum. Some packing peanuts that were caught on the interior of the frame were also removed using tweezers. Next, a fibreglass bristle brush was used to gently remove corrosion from the frame. It was a slow process to remove the corrosion from all sides of both the exterior and interior of the frame, the front of the metal straps that held the glass in place, as well as each little screw that fastened the straps to the frame.

Because the back sides of the metal straps holding in the glass were unpainted, I was able to use the air abrasive machine with plastic media to more easily and quickly lift the corrosion from these pieces.

A rectangular streetcar sign frame laid on its back on protective foam, with the fabric rollers removed from the inside.

Disassembled metal frame after corrosion was removed. ©Manitoba Museum

Corroded metal stramps and screws laid out on protective foam on a work surface.

Metal straps prior to air abrasion. ©Manitoba Museum

Once all of the corrosion had been loosened, I again brushed and vacuumed the artifact to lift the dust that had formed from the corrosion being removed.  I then “degreased” or lifted the rest of the corrosion still left on the surface with saliva and cotton swabs. The enzymes from the saliva help to lift the corrosion without damaging the painted surface like some solvents would. Science!

This took many, many swabs!

Next I began work on the textile number rolls which were covered in dirt and stains (some of the black paint was also lifting). To lift the dirt, cosmetic and soot sponges were used until they came up clean. Water and Orvus, a near-neutral pH anionic detergent, were tested on the surface to see if the yellow stains could also be lifted, but the paint was soluble in water so no further interventions were pursued.

Two long strips of fabric with the numbers 0 to 5 showing on each.

Unrolled numbers during cleaning. ©Manitoba Museum

Close up on either a number 9 or 6 on a strip of fabric.

Detail of number before and after cleaning. ©Manitoba Museum

A rectangular sign with cranks on either end of the top lying face down on protective foam over a work surface. A piece of fabric is attached at top and bottom to display a number from the front side.

Finally it was time to clean the glass. To do this, a bath of room temperature water was combined with Orvus until suds were just beginning to form. The glass was placed in the bath and a soft brush was used to wipe off the dust. The glass was then rinsed and the process repeated for a second time. During the second rinse, distilled water with a few drops of acetone were used so that no residues would be left behind on the surface and so that the glass would dry a bit faster.

It was now time to reassemble the artifact. The numbers were rolled back up and fitted back into their slots and the glass with the metal straps screwed back into place.

 

Image: Streetcar sign being reassembled. ©Manitoba Museum

And there you have it, one clean and rust free (for the most part) streetcar sign. You can see this artifact in the upcoming Strike 1919: Divided City exhibition, which commemorates the 100th anniversary of the Winnipeg General Strike opening in March 2019.

The rectangular sign with cranks on either end of the top, with two strips of fabric showing the numbers 2 and 1. The sign is much clearer than in previous images above.

Streetcar Sign after conservation treatment. H9-7-13 ©Manitoba Museum

Smooth Skating

Visitors to the Manitoba Museum are currently enjoying two hockey themed exhibitions – Hockey: The Stories Behind our Passion from the Canadian Museum of History and Manitoba Heart of Hockey developed and produced by the Manitoba Museum. Both exhibitions examine the meaning of hockey in the lives of Canadians as players and their families, coaches, officials, broadcasters, and fans.

One person who literally helps to keep the game running smoothly is the skate sharpener. A trained operator can optimize a player’s performance by skillfully honing the pitch and contour of the blade to match their stride and style. Recently, the Manitoba Museum received a donation of an early skate sharpening machine along with the sign for “Vimy Skate Sharpening” run by Allan Merko.

A metal skate sharpener with worn green paint and rust spots.

Skate Sharpener. Catalogue Number: H9-38-822 ©Manitoba Museum

A pixelated colour-film photograph showing three hockey players on the ice of an indoor rink. The player in the centre, Allan Merko, is wearing a dark coloured jersey with red accents and a black helmet.

Allan Merko (centre); Courtesy of the Merko family.

Allan Merko was a Canadian lad with a passion for hockey. Times were tight growing up in Gilbert Plains, Manitoba, so Allan collected bottles to cash in for the deposit in order to pay for his basic equipment – skates, gloves, and a stick. After a move to Ethelbert, he played centre for the Ethelbert Eagles and later the Sabres wearing jersey No. 9. His skill and speed on the ice earned him the nickname “Squirrel”. Later, he would take up coaching the younger Ethelbert Oilers team and teach power skating. His daughter fondly remembers growing up as a ‘rink rat’ and hanging out with her dad.

Close-up on the wooden handle of a hockey stick with SQUIRREL written in it in red marker.

Allan’s Stick; Courtesy of the Merko family.

Allan was more than just a player and coach. He also operated the Zamboni and created and maintained the ice at the Ethelbert Arena. Sometimes he flooded the ice between periods in full hockey gear while his team rested in the dressing room! Being mechanically inclined, Allan taught himself how to sharpen skates on an unused machine in the arena thus saving local skaters a 125 km round trip to Dauphin.

A grainy colour-film photograph of a young blonde man wearing a blue denim shirt standing in the workshop area of Vimy Arena.

Following a move to Winnipeg in the late 1990s, he set himself up in the skate sharpening business at the Vimy Arena in St. James.  His love of the game shone through in the service he provided to his customers. Al, as he was known, always remembered their names and preferences. One young customer sent him a note at the end of the season – “Thank you for sharpening my skates all year and thanks for taking an interest in my ringette. I had a great time at Nationals”. Al took the time to listen to parents tell stories of their children’s accomplishments. One mom recalled he would offer “the warmest of hugs especially when …I was run ragged during hockey season.” Sadly, Al passed away in 2012 which coincided with the last year of operation for the Vimy Arena.

The contact between blade and ice sets hockey and ringette apart from other team sports. In arenas and sporting shops across the county, it is the skill of the operator at the skate sharpening machines that keeps the players skating their best.

 

Image: Al Merko at Vimy Arena; Courtesy of the Merko Family.

A sign with a small picture of a hockey player in the upper left corner. Text reads,

Sign. Catalogue Number: H9-38-822 ©Manitoba Museum

Nancy Anderson

Nancy Anderson

Collections Management Specialist – Human History

Nancy Anderson holds a B.A. (Hons) in History from the University of Winnipeg, and received her M.A. in Canadian Social History jointly from the University of Winnipeg and University of Manitoba. She has over 30 years experience…
Meet Nancy Anderson

Mystery Behind the Butterflies

by Janis Klapecki, Collections Management Specialist (Natural History)

 

The Manitoba Museum receives calls daily inquiring if we are interested in receiving artifacts or specimens for our collections. They may have collected some clam shells while on a family outing to the beach, or have found some “treasure” in Great Aunt Muriel’s attic. We never know what to expect until we actually see the item.

In the spring of 1993, we received a call from a woman near Arborg (Manitoba) asking if we would be interested in receiving a butterfly collection. That may sound unusual to some, but for museum staff that work with insects, it’s a common conversation and potentially a good acquisition. What WAS unusual was where the butterflies were currently being stored…… the caller described that they were in a derelict van on the property they had recently purchased! After hearing this, we imagined the worst and didn’t expect to bring much back to the museum. Dried insect collections are highly susceptible to mould and live insect activity. A collection that is exposed to either of these factors can be completely destroyed within days.

A derelict light-blue vehicle in a derelict garage that is more open than covered at this point.

Not actual derelict vehicle, but you get the idea. © Andy F / Austin van decaying in a derelict shed, Broadwell / CC BY-SA 2.0 / Geograph.org

Two wooden boxes, one of which has the hinged lid open, with triangle folded papers inside and in front of the box. One of the papers is unfolded, and held open by paperweights, revealing a preserved butterfly specimen inside.

Butterflies from this collection still in their original glassine envelopes. © Manitoba Museum

Once back at the Museum, the entire collection was placed in our large freezer for pest treatment. This is done to ensure that we aren’t inadvertently bringing in any live insect pests that could damage the Museum’s galleries and collections. When the 2 week freezer treatment period was complete, we started the massive task of inventorying the collection. The collection consisted exclusively of butterfly and moth specimens. There were upwards of 400 expertly pinned specimens with data labels, and approximately another 200 specimens still in their original glassine collection envelopes. As our work progressed further into documenting and cataloguing each individual specimen, we realized that it included some very special and rare specimens.

A museum collection storage box containing four columns of pinned iridescent blue-brown butterflies.

Among the many specimens of this collection, one species stood out. There were 26 specimens of an extinct butterfly, the Silvery Blue (Glaucopsyche  lygdamus xerces; Family Lycaenidae). They were  collected in the 1920s by R.F. Sternitzky from the dunes of what is now the Sunset District of San Francisco, CA. This butterfly was endemic to the almost uninhabited coastal sand dunes of this area at that time. The species was first documented in that area in 1852, and is believed to have become extinct by the mid 1940s, when the dunes were scraped clear and houses completely replaced the dunes. Its extinction was directly attributed to urban development and habitat loss that included dune plants that the species relied upon for food and egg laying.

 

Image: Glaucopsyche lygdamus xerces butterflies collected by R.F. Sternitzky in San Francisco, c. 1920s © Manitoba Museum

Among the many specimens of this collection, one species stood out. There were 26 specimens of an extinct butterfly, the Silvery Blue (Glaucopsyche  lygdamus xerces; Family Lycaenidae). They were  collected in the 1920s by R.F. Sternitzky from the dunes of what is now the Sunset District of San Francisco, CA. This butterfly was endemic to the almost uninhabited coastal sand dunes of this area at that time. The species was first documented in that area in 1852, and is believed to have become extinct by the mid 1940s, when the dunes were scraped clear and houses completely replaced the dunes. Its extinction was directly attributed to urban development and habitat loss that included dune plants that the species relied upon for food and egg laying.

Two images side by side. On the left, a sepia image of vast sand dunes. On the right, a modern colour photograph looking out over the San Fransisco Sunset District.

L-R: Sunset area dunes, San Francisco, circa 1900. San Francisco sand dunes, c.1900, /Foundsf.org / CC BY-NC SA 3.0. Sunset District, San Francisco, today. © Mike Woods / Urban Sunset / Flickr/MikeWoods / CC BY-SA 2.0.

The majority of the butterflies and moths were collected by R.F. Sternitzky in the coastal regions of California in the years ranging from the 1920s to the 1940s. There isn’t a lot of personal information on the web about R.F. Sternitzky, other than he was born in California (1891-1980) and spent a life time collecting mostly butterflies and moths (also some bees, flies, and ants) in parts of California, including the San Francisco Bay area, and in his later years, Arizona.  He contributed significantly to Lepidopteran (moth and butterflies) collections and subsequent research as is evidenced by the numerous ecological and taxonomic publications online that refer to his specimens. His specimens are deposited in several large American museum collections including the the Essig Museum of Entomology (University Of California, Berkeley, CA), Bohart Museum of Entomology (University of California, Davis, CA), Yale Peabody Museum of Natural History (New Haven, CT), the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History (Washington, DC), the Harvard Museum of Natural History (Cambridge, MA), the American Museum of Natural History (New York, NY), as well as in Canadian museums such as the Canadian National Collection (Ottawa), and now the Manitoba Museum (Winnipeg).

A screenshot of a scanned newspaper ad sheet with a posting circled. The circled posting reads, "EXOTIC AND LOCAL LEPIDOPTERA & INSECTA- Buy and sell. Exchange in some genera. I have contacts in remote regions in various countries. Will supply material for specialists or artwork for general collections and museums but arrangement. R.F. Sternitzky, Star Route, Loytonville, Mendocino Co., Calif.".

These specimens, and in fact all specimens of permanent scientific collections all over the world, represent invaluable time capsules of the flora and fauna of that time, and of that space. We cannot go back and reproduce those dune habitats prior to human encroachment and development.

Thankfully the donor of this butterfly collection recognized that these specimens should be inspected by the Museum experts – otherwise they may have ended up in the local dump.

The mystery still remains….

How and why did these specimens arrive in Manitoba? Did the previous owner of the property correspond with R.F. Sternitzky through his ad?

 

Image: Ad placed by R.F. Sternitzky, in The Lepidopterists’ News, 1948. From The Lepidopterists’ News, May 1948, Vol. II, No. 5 (Edited).

My Summer in the Collections and Conservation Department

By Matthew Gowdar, Collections and Conservation Assistant

A young man in a brown windbreaker standing in front of a stone tower.

This summer, I was given the amazing opportunity to work at the Manitoba Museum through the Young Canada Woks program. From the end of May until mid-August, I held the full-time position of Collections and Conservation Assistant.

While this was not my first experience working at a museum or archive, the Manitoba Museum was certainly a step up for me, in terms of scale. As a History major at the University of Manitoba, this opportunity was especially exciting, as it fell directly within my field of study.

Each day started with a gallery walk through the whole museum. I would check for garbage and damage to exhibits, clean the glass cases and monitor humidity levels each morning. I was also given two large projects to undertake at the outset of my term. The first was to sort, organize and create a digital database for over three thousand research photos, which had been collected in cardboard boxes throughout the past decades. Despite their fascinating nature and relevance to the ongoing Bringing Our Stories Forward Capital Gallery Renewal Project, searching through these photos in their original state was impossible. Therefore, my goal was to make the collection easy to browse, as well as searchable for specific subjects via the digital database.

 

Image: Collections and Conservation Summer Student Matthew Gowdar.

At the top, a screenshot of an Excel document breaking down artifact details. At the bottom, a photograph of an open photo album with black and white photos.

Using a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet, I created a series of binders, each assigned to a different subject.  Each individual photograph corresponded to a different record in the database, which contained information such as date, photographer and a brief description.  Although not quite complete, this system perfectly meets the project’s original goals.

My second major task was a total revamp of the Manitoba Museum’s Institutional archives. These boxes of documents were stored on dangerously unstable shelving which did not use the space efficiently, and contained a wealth of irrelevant material. The first step was to clean out the room as much as possible, followed by the disposal of the old shelving. New shelving was ordered and assembled. Each box was culled for material which could be discarded, and then placed on the new shelving. While this sounds simple enough, when one has over two hundred boxes to evaluate it becomes more complicated. The project was a great success, and resulted in a substantial increase in free space within the archive room.

 

Image: Research photographs were put into a database and rehoused in archival sleeves. © Manitoba Museum

I was lucky enough to work alongside a group of intelligent and hardworking colleagues, whose passion for museum work was evident from day one. The support and direction I received from both Cindy Colford, Manager of Collections and Conservation, and Roland Sawatsky, Curator of History, was invaluable. I also would like to thank Loren Rudisuela, Carolyn Sirett, Nancy Anderson, Cortney Pachet, and Amelia Fay and numerous other staff members for all the help they provided me over the last few months. The Manitoba Museum truly employs a special group of people.