So, once something is named, isn't that it?

So, once something is named, isn’t that it?

By Kathy Nanowin, past Manager of Conservation

Close up on the identification data of a herbarium specimen in the Museum Collection. It is for a Polygonus elenode Michx collected in July 1979.Recently, my husband asked me what I was working on, and when I told him I was updating the nomenclature for specimens in the Family Polygonaceae, he looked at me funny. I realized that as a non-biology person, my response was not that informative to him. It did not tell him that I was working on updating the official names of plant specimens, or even which plants they were, and it also did not make sense as to why their names would even change.

A black and borwn dog with a bushy tail stands on a wooden platforms in front of a railing before a wooden area. The dog is looking back towards the camera an a small text box near its head reads, "Je suis un chein. Wouf, wouf!"When a living organism is recognized as being unique and different from other organisms, it is assigned a scientific name. This is the name that is used in the Museum’s database. A common name may be also included, but common names are not as useful or informative. This is because common names are different in each language. For example, the domestic dog is “perro” in Spanish, “chien” in French, “sobaka” in Russian, “gŏu” in Mandarin, “hund” in Danish, and “cane” in Italian. However, the scientific name for dog is Canis familiaris, and this is the same everywhere in the world.

Even in the same language, it is not unusual for a common name to vary from country to country or region to region. A common ditch plant in Manitoba is seen below. Its scientific name is Tragopogon dubius. In Manitoba, this plant’s common name is most often Goat’s Beard, but in Europe it is known as Salsify, and in the southern United States it is called the Wild Oyster Plant.

So, each different type of organism is assigned a scientific name to be sure scientists know what organism they are talking about. Scientific names have two parts to them, the genus (Tragopogon) and the specific epithet (dubius), and these are latinized words. The scientific name is therefore a binomial, that is, it has two parts to the name. The genus is always capitalized, and the specific epithet is not. To show that this is the official scientific name of an organism, the two words are either underlined (usually done when handwritten) or italicized (usually used when typed).

A pressed Goat's Beard, or Tragopogon dubius, specimen with Museum Herbarium Collection indentification information in the lower right corner of the page.

CLose up on a Tragopogon dubius herbarium specimen identification note. The name Tragopogon dubius is underlined.

There are strict rules for naming organisms. In biology, the sub-discipline of naming organisms is called taxonomy. There are international conferences and conventions where scientists meet to discuss and agree upon the rules for taxonomy, and this may mean that names changes.

There are various reasons for names to change:

1. Sometimes a specimen is reclassified, and the name has to change to reflect this.

2. Sometimes a specimen was incorrectly identified. In the lower left photograph, the original name was actually correct. Someone changed it in 1997, and then in 2014 it was changed back to its original, correct name.

3. Sometimes it is discovered that specimens with different names are actually the same thing, and so one name is adopted over the other.

4. And sometimes, if you wait long enough, an older name resurfaces (as in the lower right photograph).This is usually because of a reorganization of the naming system.

Herbarium identification label for a 'Rumex triangulivalis' specimen showing that as the originally identified name, which was then incorrectly corrected in 1997, and recorrected in 2014.

Pressed plant herbarium specimen accompanied by an identification data panel labeling it as 'Bistorta vivpara'.

So the next time you wonder what is that tree, insect or bird, try to find out its scientific name!

Weird Tasks: Moving the Glyptodont 

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

 

As we have worked our way through the pliosaur exhibit project, we have come up against a series of problems that have required novel solutions. About a month ago we carried out a very strange task, and one that none of us had ever had to do before: we needed to move the glyptodont. 

Before I explain how we did this, perhaps I had better backtrack a bit, as you probably have some questions at this point: “What is a glyptodont, anyway? Where did the Museum get its glyptodont and why did you need to move it?” 

A graphic illustration showing an individual standing next to a fossil of a creature with a large armoured shell and tail (Glyptodont) displayed on a raised platform.

The glyptodont, as featured in Ward’s catalogue from 1866. 

Black and white photograph of a museum gallery with many display cases and platforms. In the foreground, bottom left corner is a fossil of a creature with a large armoured shell and tail (Glyptondont) on its platform. In the background, upper right corner, is a large fossil standing on it’s hind legs with arms raised in front of it ( Megatherium) on its platform.

The Redpath Museum in 1925, showing both the glyptodont (left) and the ground sloth (right). (photo: McCord Museum).

Photograph looking into the Manitoba Museum Earth History Gallery from behind the display platform holding the Megatherium. In the background, to the right, is the glyptodont on its display platform near descriptive panels with illustrations of the globe.

The ground sloth and glyptodont, in their positions in the Earth History Gallery from 1973 to 2016.

Glyptodonts were creatures that lived during the Ice Age, that have been described as “fridge-size armadillos,” although the largest ones could perhaps have been called “armadillos the size of Volkswagen Bugs.” They were heavy, armoured creatures that weighed up to two tonnes. They spent their time lumbering around the forests and plains of South America and southern North America,  eating trees and grasses. Glyptodonts became extinct about 10,000 years ago during the “Quaternary Extinction Event,” at about the same time as giant ground sloths and other large mammals, probably as a result of climate change and hunting by humans. 

Our particular glyptodont is a replica of a fossil that belonged to the genus Glyptodon, and like our ground sloth it came to the Museum by a long and circuitous route. The glyptodont and the ground sloth were among the earliest casts of big vertebrate fossils, produced during the late 19th century by Ward’s Natural Science Establishment in Rochester, New York. Our ground sloth (Megatherium) was supplied to the Redpath Museum in Montreal in time for the opening of that institution in 1882, while the glyptodont joined it in Montreal some years later. 

By the 1960s, the Redpath was renovating, and these immense casts were removed and needed a home. The Manitoba Museum was under construction, so the casts were transferred to us and shipped to Winnipeg. They were assembled when the Earth History Gallery was constructed, and were there in time for the gallery opening in 1973. For the forty-plus years since then, both of these huge and historic casts have stood in place on the platforms that had been constructed for them. 

Now, in 2016, we are renovating that part of the gallery so that we can install our exciting fossil pliosaur, and to make space we have had to move the glyptodont. Since this replica had been in place since long before any of us worked here, we did not have any advance knowledge of how it should be handled, and since it is an irreplaceable artefact dating from  over a century ago, we considered this move with some trepidation. Since it turned out that the glyptodont is also immensely heavy, having been constructed of plaster, wood, and iron in the best 19th century fashion, our trepidation was well placed. 

 

Close-up photograph of the Glyptodont: a four-legged creature with a large, rounded, armoured shell, and thick armoured tail reaching the ground.

Detail of the glyptodont, as it was from 1973 to 2016.

As has been the case with handling the plesiosaur specimen, our technical staff love this sort of challenge, and Bert Valentin and Sean Workman had come up with solutions in the best “jury rigged” manner. Back when we installed our mineral exhibit, Bert had modified an engine hoist so that we could move our giant amethyst specimen, which weighs close to half a tonne. Now, with a fossil cast that weighs about the same amount (we weren’t able to weigh it, so this is a best guess), Bert re-modified that hoist as a glyptodont-lifter. The following sequence of photographs shows how it went – the process was much more nerve-wracking than it appears here! 

Two individuals sit either side of the Glyptodont watching as another individual works lying on the display platform under the shell.

Bert Valentin crawls under the glyptodont to saw the head off, while Janis Klapecki and Sean Workman assist. The head will be taken out for conservation work, while we move the glyptodont’s carapace. 

The Glyptodont shell from the side with beams under it and strapped either side of it ready to be lifted off its platform using an enginge hoist.

The engine hoist is placed over the glyptodont, which is attached by thick straps attached to steel beams. The long pieces of wooden rail will allow us to control the tipping of the carapace when it is unbolted from the platform. 

View from the front of the Glyptodont shell showing steel beams running insider it at either side and attached with thick yellow straps to the engine hoist above. Bubble wrap placed on the shell protects it from the friction of the straps.

An end-on view shows how the steel beams are passed under and through the glyptodont. 

A display platform with a large fossil standing on its hind legs with its tail stretching behind it (Megatherium). The fossil’s head and arms are out of frame. A wooden additon has been added to the platform to the right of the Megatherium and a cardboard cutout in the shape of the Glyptodont lies on the top of the new addition.

Marc Hebert had built this extension to the ground sloth’s platform. A cardboard cutout shows the location to which we will move the glyptodont. 

Three individuals work together to move a large Glyptodont carapace onto a wheeled cart from a platform using an engine hoist lift.

Before Sean can begin to hoist the replica, Bert adjusts the attachments. 

Four individuals work together around the Glyptodont carapace, now being moved using the engine hoist. They hold it steady either side of the carapace with wooden rails attached to the support beams running under the shell.

It is lifted, and the scary part of the operation begins! 

The engine hoist carrying the Glyptodont carapace backed against its ne platform space beside the Megatherium fossil. Three individuals work to keep it balanced as they move it.

Sean rolls the hoist, while Bert and I use the rails to keep the carapace steady. 

On the left, two individuals stand beside an engine hoist with the Glyptodont carapace strapped to it. On the right, Dr. Graham Young stands on the new platform looking down at where the Glyptodont is to be moved.

Contemplating just how we are going to swing that heavy fragile antique up onto the platform… 

One indivudal kneels at the back of the engine hoist to watch under the Glyptodont as two other individuals use the wooden rails strapped either side of the Glyptodont to guide it into place over the platform.

…and here we go, using the cart to prop the base supports. 

Four individuals works together to lift the Glyptodont carapace onto the wooden platform, holding the wooden rails stapped either end of it.

Traditional muscle power is used to slide the glyptodont to its final location. 

Two indivduals stand either end of the new platform looking at the Glyptodont carapace, now in place.

The replica is now attached in place, ready for the rest of the exhibit to be completed around it. 

Beadwork Then and Now

One of the really fun parts of my job is when I get to interact with other researchers and assist them with their projects as they use the collection. One of these lovely individuals is Monique Olivier, Assistant to Heritage and Education Programs at Festival du Voyageur.

Two intricately beaded square dog blankets. The one on the right has a colourful fringe around the edges, and the one of the left does not, instead having two longer braids as ties. The pattern on the body of each piece is nearly identical.

Monique has been learning how to do beadwork, and she asked if she could use one of the dog blankets in the HBC collection for inspiration in a reproduction.  Today she came in with the finished piece and we laid them side-by-side, it’s pretty incredible!

I asked Monique why she chose to work on a dog blanket, since we all know there are thousands of beautiful beaded things she could have selected.  Her response?  Of all the material culture of the fur trade, dog blankets are some of the most whimsical and unique pieces.  I couldn’t agree more, and I think we both just stood there smiling at the thought of dogs all dressed up in their gorgeous blankets.  (Shameless self-promotion: check out the April-May 2016 edition of Canada’s History Magazine for a little blurb I wrote on dog blankets!).

 

Image: Monique’s new blanket on the left, the original on the right.

I’m sure you’re all wondering how she went from looking at an original museum piece to completing her own, so here’s how she tackled it:

  • First, she takes close-up images of each section and measures the size of the motifs as well as the overall piece;
  • The pictures are printed to scale, and she uses carbon paper to trace the pattern eventually transferring to brown paper bags;
  • Then she begins the actual beadwork, ripping off the paper pattern at the end

When I show off the beaded works in our collection people always ask me how long it would take, so I threw that question back to Monique. This project took her about 70 hours, including drafting the pattern. The biggest challenge? Finding the right bead colours, especially pinks and oranges. Some of the colours we have on pieces in our collections are no longer available, much to the dismay of contemporary beaders! Monique added that she owes a lot of her success to Jennine Krauchi for helping her improve and hone her skills (for recent news on Jennine’s incredible work check out this CBC article).

A beaded tea cozy. Bright floral and heart pattern on black fabric.

Beaded tea cozy made by Monique.

A smiling woman, Monique Olivier, standing behind a table in a Museum lab with two beaded dog blankets and a bead tea cozy laid out in front of her.

The artist herself, Monique Olivier.

If you’d like to see more of Monique’s work you’re in luck! Drop the Beads: Big Challenges & Small Victories in Contemporary Beadwork is a showcase of her work opening on Tuesday, April 5 at the Tiger Hills Arts Centre in Holland, Manitoba (about 1 hour, 40 min southwest of Winnipeg and you can see the centre right from the highway!). The show features both traditional pieces, like this beautiful dog blanket, and contemporary ones that reflect her interests in sci-fi, and runs until the end of the month. Monique will be there for the Open House on Friday, April 8 at 7 pm so be sure to stop by!

Dr. Amelia Fay

Dr. Amelia Fay

Curator of Anthropology & the HBC Museum Collection

Amelia Fay is Curator of Anthropology and the HBC Museum Collection at the Manitoba Museum. She received her BA in Anthropology from the University of Manitoba (2004), an MA in Archaeology…
Meet Dr. Amelia Fay

A Strange Migration

Usually geese migrate from North to South and back again. Some goose decoys, however, migrated from Manitoba to British Columbia a hundred years ago, and have now come home to Manitoba again.

A goose decoy with a taxidermized Canada goose head, and a body form covered in goose feathers.

A woman from Victoria, British Columbia called some time ago wanting to donate a batch of goose decoys that had been in the possession of her father. Duck and goose decoys used for hunting are common enough items, but the photographs the donor showed me were unique. These decoys, which were said to have been made in Manitoba in the 1880s, were made from actual geese. Twelve body forms were adorned with goose feathers, and these were accompanied by twelve taxidermied heads. Twelve wooden stakes were also included, and these acted as both stands for the body forms and stakes for the heads. All of these materials were packed neatly in a woven cane structure surrounded by a custom made canvas bag. Printed on the bottom of the bag in large letters: “V. R. SUTHERLAND”.

 

Image: A goose decoy fully reconstructed. H9-38-380. Copyright The Manitoba Museum.

Taxidermized and preserved goose heads neatly arranged in a specimen box, with a cluster of decoy stakes along the upper right side for the box.

Preserved goose heads, neatly arranged. The stakes are in the top right hand corner. H9-38-380. © Manitoba Museum.

The underside of the goose decoy body frame, showing the feathers arranged along a wooden "spine" attaching to the ground stake.

Underside of decoy body frame. H9-38-380. © Manitoba Museum.

The more closely I looked at the items with my colleagues Dr. Randy Mooi (Curator of Zoology) and Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson (Curator of Botany), the more we learned. Six of the goose heads were Canada Geese, while six were White-Fronted, the latter species being common in western Manitoba. All the heads seem to have been treated with arsenic and some included glass eyes, both common taxidermy methods in the 1880s. The cane frame was made with common cattail. The bag itself is a thick canvas, with a zipper that is of 1930s or 1940s vintage. From this physical examination we can surmise that although the goose decoys themselves may date to 1880s Manitoba, the bag and cane frame probably date to about the 1940s.

A canvas bag unzipped along the centre, with a rounded cane frame inside allowing for storage of the decoy components. Stamped on the bottom of the bag is "V. R. Sutherland".

So who was V.R. Sutherland? Victor Richard Sutherland (1893-1969) was born in Winnipeg to Roderick Ross Sutherland and Martha Anna Richardson. Roderick was a lawyer and the couple belonged to the upper class of Winnipeg at the time. If the decoys were indeed made in the 1880s they likely belonged to Roderick, and certainly not Victor (who wasn’t born until 1893). The Sutherland family moved to Victoria, BC in 1912, which means the bag and cane frame were likely made there. Victor was a great friend of the donor’s father, G. Fitzpatrick Dunn, and it is believed Dunn received the decoys either from Victor or his wife Lucy in the 1960s or early 1970s.

 

Image: The canvas bag containing a cattail frame, with enough room for all the components of all twelve decoys. H9-38-380. © Manitoba Museum.

Despite all of this rich historical background and physical examination by experts, we are still not entirely certain where these decoys were made or how old they are. Our best guess is built on stories married with facts. G. Fitzpatrick Dunn’s claim that the decoys were made in Manitoba in the 1880s is given weight because he was a good friend of the man who owned them and who would have provided this information. Another issue is that Canada Geese and White-fronted Geese are found throughout the western provinces, including the Pacific Coast region, so they could have been made in either of the places where the Sutherlands lived.

This is how curatorial investigation sometimes works – a lot of study, revision, and discussion, followed by a plausible but not quite definite explanation. Whatever the case, no one with whom we’ve spoken has ever seen goose decoys like these before. They are unique and look like they were custom made for an avid hunter with financial means. Contact us if you’ve ever seen anything resembling this!

Dr. Roland Sawatzky

Dr. Roland Sawatzky

Curator of History

Roland Sawatzky joined The Manitoba Museum in 2011. He received his B.A. in Anthropology from the University of Winnipeg, M.A. in Anthropology from the University of South Carolina, and Ph.D. in Archaeology…
Meet Dr. Roland Sawatzky

Pliosaur Progress: We’ve Been Busy!

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

 

As you may know if you look at this page occasionally, for the past couple of years we have been working with a beautiful fossil of a pliosaurid plesiosaur, which was collected by Wayne Buckley from western Manitoba. We are now at the stage of preparing a permanent exhibit of the fossil, which will be installed in the Earth History Gallery this summer. So we have been very busy in the past little while!

Much of my own work involves the planning of the exhibit: writing copy for the panels, selecting images and graphics, collaborating with the designer, and working with grants and budgets to ensure that everything is on track. While I am doing this, some of the other staff are carrying out very creative and exciting work: the designer, of course, but also those who are building cases, engineering hanging mounts for a skeletal reconstruction, and figuring out lighting and other technical issues.

A smiling woman sits on a wooden brace within a large wooden frame. In the upper right corner of the frame is a mounted pliosaur skull - a large, toothy prehistoric sea creature.

Debbie Thompson considers the splendid mount that she is creating for the pliosaur skull.

A Pliosaur skull partially embedded in mounting material made to look like an artificial bed of shale, filled with sculpting material, netting, and spray foam.

The skull rests on a bed of artificial shale, constructed from a sculpting material over a wire frame filled with spray foam.

A large sturdy steel frame with wood edging seen in a workroom from above.

A sturdy steel frame supports the entire mass of skeleton and mount.

As these photos show, one of the most creative tasks is that of artist Debbie Thompson, who is making an artificial stone (shale) bed that will surround the original fossils so that they will look almost the same as they did when they were first discovered. When Debbie’s work is done, I think that many visitors will mistake her “rock” for the real thing, but as these photos show, this is only achieved through tremendous focus and patience.

Debbie, sitting mostly out of frame, places a piece of artificial rock in its spot on the pliosaur mount.

Debbie fits pieces of “shale” that she has created to cover the skull edges. The skull had to be inserted on its own separate support mount that “slots” into place, so these smaller pieces are needed to hide the edges of that support.

A close-up look at the Pliosaur skull in the partially constructed mount. Small markers are on each piece of the artificial rock to identify their final positions.

The numbers represent all the pieces Debbie has sculpted to cover the edges of the separate support.

A photo showing two individuals navigating a drywall lift through a doorway.

When Debbie had finished preparing all the “shale” for the skull surround, we needed to remove the skull to put it safely away. Here, Bert Valentin and Sean Workman move a specially adapted drywall lift.

The Pliosaur skull being lowered on chains into its' place in the mount.

Chains suspended from the drywall lift are attached into loops on the skull support.

The skull, suspended from the lift with chains is lifted carefully from place on the mount for installation. Two yellow jacks are visible within the mount.

As the skull is lifted, Bert makes sure that everything is kept straight. Note the yellow jacks on which the skull support rested; these allowed for very smooth lowering or raising of the support.

The Pliosaur skull held aloft on a lift with chains, well over the rest of the mount.

At its full height, the skull support is clear of the mount, and the entire lift can be rotated.

The Pliosaur skull lowered onto a cart with the drywall lift to move back into storage until installation.

The skull is lowered to the cart that will transport it back to storage, where it will be safe until we are ready for the final installation in the Earth History Gallery.

Guest Blog – The Tupper Quilt and Canadian Confederation

By Kelly Burwash, Practicum student, Master of Arts in Cultural Studies/Curatorial Practices, University of Winnipeg

 

One of the great things about museums is that they can help foster relationships with (so-called) distant historical events. My placement at the Manitoba Museum involves doing research for an upcoming exhibition on the 150th anniversary of Confederation.

As a new resident of Manitoba, it has been especially interesting for me to research what Confederation means to the province’s unique context. Manitoba was, of course, not part of the original four provinces that became Canada on July 1, 1867. At the time, Canada consisted of Ontario, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Quebec. This does not mean that Manitoba was unaffected by actions in the East. During the discussions of the Quebec Conference leading up to Confederation, the politicians did not forget about this area. They decided future seats in the House of Commons would be set aside for the North West when it was brought in to Confederation. The politicians in the East thought that this would be an easy unification. Although this was not the case, the West was a part of Confederation in 1867 in conversation if not in result.

A patchwork quilt made from patches of varying shapes in browns, reds, creams, blues, blacks, and yellows.

Another interesting part of my research on Confederation has been my examination of the Tupper Quilt. This quilt was almost certainly made in Winnipeg by Ada Tupper, daughter-in-law to Charles Tupper. Charles Tupper was briefly prime minister of Canada, as well as premier of Nova Scotia and one of the Fathers of Confederation. You might think, “What does this have to do with Manitoba? Why is this quilt here?”  I confess, I had the same initial thoughts. It turns out the Tupper family is firmly entrenched in Winnipeg history. James Stewart Tupper and William Johnston Tupper, two of Tupper’s sons, formed a law firm in Winnipeg with Hugh John MacDonald. Tupper’s son-in-law, Donald Cameron, was one of the chief commissioners for the Boundary Commission and lived in Dufferin while mapping the 49th parallel.

 

Image: The Tupper Quilt was made ca. 1889 by Ada Tupper, daughter-in-law of Charles Tupper, one of the Fathers of Confederation. Photograph by Anne E. Dawson.

Charles Tupper himself came to Winnipeg in 1869 to secure the release of luggage belonging to his daughter Anna and son-in-law Donald Cameron, which had been seized by the Red River Resistance. In order to get the luggage back, he met with Louis Riel who agreed to return their belongings. The pair parted on good terms. These are just some of the stories that are found on the crazy quilt. Each of the many symbols tells a different story. It has been fascinating to research and amazing to find all these local connections to Confederation.

The Tupper Quilt is on loan from a Private Collection. Contributing research done by Anne Dawson.

Seeds of Days Past

Recently I became aware of a hundred year old collection of seeds located not in the Botany collection at the Museum but in the History collection. What were 100 years old seeds doing in the history lab? It turns out that they were donated in 1991 along with many other artifacts and specimens from the famous Criddle family (learn more about the Criddles, here) but not thoroughly catalogued.

Questions about proper seed preservation recently came up and our History Cataloguer asked me about them, assuming that I knew this collection existed, which I didn’t. I looked closely at the five boxes of tiny vials of wildflower and weed seeds from Manitoba and was absolutely thrilled. The Criddles were amateur naturalists who collected scientific specimens of seeds, mammals, and insects and recorded meticulous weather data in the late 1880’s to early 1900’s. I immediately realized that some of the seeds were of species that have become rare due to the stabilization of the Carberry sand dunes. These seeds are some of the first specimens of these rare plants to ever be collected in Manitoba and will be important for their status assessment.

A shallow box filled with four rows of small vials of seeds, each carefully labelled.

Image: Seed collections are valuable references for identifying unknown seeds. TMM H9-23-142.

An outdoor plaque sharing some of the history of Norman Criddle in both English and French.

Plaque about Norman Criddle at the Criddle-Vane National Historic site.

In recent years, seed preservation has become increasingly important because of concerns about the loss of genetic diversity in crop seeds, as well as the loss of species in the wild. In fact you may have heard of the so-called “Doomsday Vault” located in an underground bunker in Svalbard (learn more here). They protect the most diverse collection of crop seeds in the world in case natural (or human-caused) disasters eliminate the plants in their agricultural settings.

Here at the Museum we don’t have such a dramatic seed collection as we simply don’t have the high-tech cold storage space to permanently house and protect wild plant seeds. The main purpose of our collection is to act as a reference for identifying unknown species of seeds. Our seed collection has been used to identify the gut contents of dead animals (read blog “CSI Manitoba: The Case of the Broken Beak” here), and preserved seeds dug up in ancient archaeological sites among other things.

So why did it take so long for me to discover this collection? The Museum usually receives more donations of artifacts and specimens than we can process in any given year. When the staff is busy with projects such as new gallery exhibits, a backlog of specimens builds up. This seed collection, having received a bit of care when it first came in, could simply not be thoroughly catalogued until recently. I wonder what other interesting things are in the Museum’s backlog waiting to be rediscovered?

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

Guest Blog – First hand impressions of the 1919 General Strike

By Jessica Adam, Practicum student, Master of Arts in Cultural Studies/Curatorial Practices, University of Winnipeg

 

In 2019, it will be the one hundredth anniversary of the Winnipeg General Strike, a movement that had major social and political repercussions across Canada. To commemorate this dramatic episode in Winnipeg’s history, The Manitoba Museum is researching a potential exhibition about the strike, and specifically, the experience of what it was like to be there – on the streets, in the crowds, part of the events. My role in this, as a student researcher working towards my MA in Curatorial Practices, has focused on first-hand accounts, archival photographs and materials from the Archives of Manitoba, as well as The Manitoba Museum’s collection of recorded oral histories. The recollections of people who personally witnessed these events add an extra dimension to the colourful history of Winnipeg, as they create a tangible link to the past. As I have worked my way through this research, I have become acutely aware of how connected we are to the past, overall. In many ways, this is part of what museums do –facilitate this connection for everyone through exhibitions and education.

A young adult posing for a photo while leaning against the bar of the Urban Gallery cafe in the Manitoba Museum.

Researching and listening to oral histories, especially, has furthered my appreciation for Winnipeg’s local history, and placed it into the larger context of Canadian history. The importance of these kinds of historical accounts, as well, cannot be overstated. They are exciting, original, and engaging, and they can make us feel like we are sharing the experience of being there, as it’s all happening. This kind of primary source research can be slow and time-consuming, but is well worth it. I’ve heard stories I never thought I’d get to hear, read sensational accounts, and admired amazing pictures taken during incredibly important moments. As a history nerd, I feel like this has been a bit of a dream come true.

 

Image: Master’s student Jessica Adam in the Urban Gallery café. The gallery represents Winnipeg in 1920, one year after the events of the General Strike.

Finally, I’ll end with an example. While there are many compelling stories in The Manitoba Museum’s oral history collection, I found Mr. Leslie Paulley’s description of the infamous Bloody Saturday very thrilling. In this brief segment, he discusses the violence that erupted on the streets of Winnipeg between the strikers and the Mounted Police:

They turned around and they recharged the crowd, this time with revolvers drawn. Previously, as I recall, they were only swinging batons. They swept down upon the crowd, and as they approached the gathering in front of the City Hall, they fired shots at it. One man dropped dead with a bullet through the heart on William Avenue, quite close to Main Street. Another man was shot through the head. And a third man died later in hospital of wounds to the chest. There were scores of people injured, some of them, of course, being the mounted men engaged in the charge. (Paulley, Leslie 110 – 38:45-39:34)

The Botany of Valentine’s Day: If people reproduced like plants

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, flower sales are set to soar. Men give flowers to women to increase the chances that they’ll get some lovin’ but they don’t typically think about the fact that in doing so they’ve already helped something reproduce-namely the plant. Flowers are the sexual organs of plants and their methods of reproduction are both fascinating and bizarre. However, plants can be complicated so to make this easier to understand, I’m going to describe how people would have babies if we were like plants.

Close-up on a stalk of Buffalograss, a single stalk splits into two, with either end having a fan of stamens.

If people were like plants most of us would be hermaphrodites (both male and female). Very few plant species have separate males and females; buffalograss (Buchloe dactyloides) is one of the only ones in Manitoba. Most plants (~90%) have both male (stamens) and female (pistils) organs either on the same flower or the same plant. Hermaphroditic plants are either receptive to receiving pollen or actively releasing pollen but not usually doing both at the same time to prevent inbreeding. Some plant species can even switch from being male to female part way through their lives.

 

Image: Buffalograss (Buchloe dactyloides) is one of the few Canadian species that has separate male and female plants.

Close up on a bumble bee on a plant with a bunch of small purple flowers at the top.

If people were like plants, in-vitro fertilization would be the norm. Most plants rely on a third party, such as an insect or bird, to help them reproduce. The animal removes pollen from the stamens of one flower and transfers it to the pistil of another flower. Humans also sometimes fill this role, hand pollinating crop plants like vanilla (Vanilla planifolia) when insect pollinators are not available.

If you couldn’t find a mate and really wanted to have a baby, you could just fertilize yourself! The baby would be a clone that is genetically identical to the mother. Many plants can fertilize themselves in case they are not visited by pollinators. Self-fertilization isn’t ideal as inbreeding can produce individuals that are less healthy but at least all the effort spent producing eggs and pollen is not completely wasted.

 

Image: This bumblebee (Bombus) is fertilizing a breadroot (Pediomelum esculentum) plant. The bee gets paid with a delicious drink of nectar.

Close-up on three orange lilies.

If you wanted a child but didn’t want to give birth, you could just grow a little doppelganger of yourself on your foot. Once the baby was big enough, it would fall off and start running around. Hooray! No 16-hour labour to go through! This type of reproduction (asexual) is quite common in perennial plants. Some plants produce bulbs or tubers which eventually break away from their parents, forming separate but genetically identical new plants. Other species, such as sod grasses and aspen (Populus) trees produce long underground stems from which new plants emerge. This strategy can be very successful if there is no suitable habitat for a seed to germinate in.

 

Image: Many lilies, such as this prairie lily (Lilium philadelphicum) reproduce asexually by creating bulbs.

A palm tree weighed down by large bunches of red dates.

If people were like plants everyone would have several thousand children every year. Unfortunately, about half of them would be eaten by lions; seed predation is high in plants with 40-50% losses to birds, rodents, and insects being common. The seeds that do survive might spend decades living in a vegetative state before resuming a normal life and reproducing; this is sort of like having teenager who does nothing but play video games all day. The oldest seed ever successfully grown was a Judean date palm (Phoenix dactylifera) that was about 2,000 years old. Talk about a failure to launch!

So when you’re purchasing or appreciating your Valentine’s Day flowers this year remember that at the very least, the plant has gotten lucky!

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

Five planets; Nine planets?

This has been a busy week for solar system news. For early risers, you can see all five of the naked-eye planets at the same time before sunrise. This week also saw the announcement of some new research suggesting there may be an undiscovered planet out there, way out past Neptune.

Sky map showing the approximate locations of the five planets visible in the pre-dawn sky.

We’ll start with the easy one. There are five planets in our sky that can be easily seen with the unaided (or “naked”) eye – without a telescope or binoculars, but most of the time only two or three are visible at any given time. For the next several weeks, though, you can see all five at once. Just wait for a clear morning, get up early, and head to a location where you have a clear horizon to the south and southeast. You’ll want to observe about 45 minutes before the sun comes up, while the sky is still dark enough.

The first thing you will notice is Venus, shining brightly in the southeast. Venus has been visible before dawn for months now, and since it is the brightest object in the sky after the Sun and Moon, a lot of people have noticed it in the southeast as they get up for work or school before the sun rises. The next-brightest object in the sky is the planet Jupiter, which was close to Venus last fall but has since migrated across the sky towards the southwest. That’s two planets.

In between Venus on your left and Jupiter on your right, there are a bunch of bright-ish objects. About halfway between the two, and higher up in the south, is a fairly bright object that you might notice has a slightly red-orange hue. That’s Mars, planet number three on our list of targets.

Between Mars and Venus is number four: the ringed planet Saturn. Saturn’s rings aren’t visible without a telescope, but it is the most distant planet you can see with your unaided eye, at over 1.5 billion kilometres away from Earth.

Number five on our list is the most difficult one. The planet Mercury is tough to see, because it is so close to the sun we can only see it in the brightening twilight sky. Mercury appears to the lower left of Venus and very close to the horizon. As the days pass, it will rise higher in the sky as it orbits the sun, and then drop back down below the horizon again. You probably will only have a couple of weeks to see Mercury unless we have very clear skies and you have very good eyes, since the lower it gets the harder it will be to find. Binoculars can help you track it down in the twilight.

If you want to add a sixth planet, just look around: the Earth is a planet, too. And the moon will move through the seen in the first week of February, along the path from Jupiter to Mercury in our sky. It’s a great time to watch the morning sky!

Now, the other “planet” announcement this week, which suggests a new planet has been “discovered”. It hasn’t – at least, not yet. As usual, the social media sites blow everything out of proportion. Some new research suggests that some of the odd observations of objects at the very edge of the solar system could be explained if there were an undiscovered planet orbiting the sun at an incredible distance, far beyond Neptune. The trouble is, we don’t have a lot of data on what’s out there, so there are many possible explanations for the strange stuff we’re seeing. Definitely a story worth following, but don’t change the textbooks just yet.

Scott Young

Scott Young

Planetarium Astronomer

Scott is the Planetarium Astronomer at the Manitoba Museum, developing astronomy and science programs. He has been an informal science educator for thirty years, working in the planetarium and science centre field both at The Manitoba Museum and also at the Alice G. Wallace Planetarium in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. Scott is an active amateur astronomer and a past-President of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada.