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A Public Art Mystery: part II (Polygons on Triangle)

February 6, 2015 by rness | 1 Comment

Polygons on Triangle, John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Library, Brown University, c.196-?

In preparation of the John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Library celebrating its 50th year this past November, Digital Production Services scanned many photographs of the building during construction, and after its dedication in November of 1964. A photograph of a large metal sculpture on the steps of “The Rock” piqued my curiosity, resulting in A Public Art Mystery: part 1. After reading the post, a recent graduate of the Public Humanities Program here at Brown commented that he could distinguish a large “C” on the center panel. Was the work by Alexander Calder? I searched the internet for an example of how Calder signed his monumental metal sculptures, known as “stabiles,” and found a signature and date from a piece executed in 1960. The signature is from a work titled Gallows and Lollipops and is, interestingly, installed on the plaza adjacent to the Beinecke Library at Yale University. Using my loupe, I closely examined the photograph of the work at Brown. The “CA” above the “63”, and the similarity of the signatures, convinced me that the sculpture was, indeed, executed by Alexander Calder.

Detail, with boosted contrast, from photograph

I searched the Calder Foundation website by period, 1963-1976, and there it was! Polygons on Triangle, 1963, Sheet metal, bolts and paint, 289.6 (h) x 185.4 x 243.8 cm. But what were the exact circumstances of its installation at Brown? Was it loaned to the University for the grand opening of its new library? How long did it remain there? What were the reactions of the public to the art? (other than the serious contemplation and head scratching documented in the photograph), and where is the piece now?

Polygons on Triangle, 1963, Sheet metal, bolts and paint, 289.6 (h) x 185.4 x 243.8 cm, Courtesy Calder Foundation

Polygons on Triangle, 1963, Sheet metal, bolts and paint, 289.6 (h) x 185.4 x 243.8 cm, Calder Foundation, New York

I have been able to determine that from 2001-2003, Polygons on Triangle was exhibited at the Storm King Art Center as part of Grand Intuitions: Alexander Calder’s Monumental Sculpture, and in 2004 the work was part of an installation on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in Philadelphia. Calder on the Parkway featured a group of ten black sheet metal sculptures and the 21-foot tall “Ordinary” that already occupied the site. The installation was intended to draw attention to the site of a proposed Calder Museum, a museum which ultimately was never built. In 2007, Polygons on Triangle traveled to Dublin and was featured in an exhibit at the Irish Museum of Modern Art that highlighted Calder’s relationship with Joan Miró.

A great deal of mystery still surrounds the Calder stabile that was installed on steps of the library. I have hopes that the curatorial file that I have requested from the Calder Foundation will shed light on Brown’s history with the sculpture, or perhaps the answers lie hidden in our very own University Archives, awaiting discovery.

Polygons on Triangle, Storm King Art Center, Mountainville, New York, 2001-03

Photographing the Edwards Cane

January 23, 2015 by lelgin | Comments Off on Photographing the Edwards Cane

Shortly before we left for our holiday break, I had another opportunity to photograph historical materials and objects from the Brown University Archives. We’ve had a number of interesting objects come through lately as part of Brown’s 250th celebrations, and since we often are photographing books and documents, three-dimensional objects can be a treat to have in the studio.

One of the more challenging objects that I got to work with is known as the “Edwards Cane,” a cane that belonged to Morgan Edwards, an important figure in the founding of Brown University. The bottom of the cane is rounded and does not stand on its own; it also has an ivory head with a small silver plate bearing an inscription. It was important to shoot both the cane overall as an object, but also focus in on the inscription.

Edwards Cane; full shot (L) and detail of inscription (R). The hole in the cane visible in the detail shot, just below the ivory handle.

Usually, when we are given more complicated objects to photograph, it’s the nature of the surface materials that presents the greatest challenge: oil paintings, for instance, that are prone to glare; or objects made of silver or glass, which require the construction of light tents in order to capture the details of the object without also capturing our own reflections. The Edwards Cane, however, posed a new challenge: how to adequately support the object while keeping the intrusion of the support elements into the image at a minimum. The best way to photograph it would be to build a support that gently but firmly clamps onto the cane and holds it at a precise position, so we could have the exact angle we wanted without damaging the cane. However, despite multiple attempts, I was unable to find any support mechanism that would support the cane well, not allow any movement, not cause any damage to the cane, and not be incredibly difficult to digitally remove from the final image.

The cane with packaging tape support.

And then I found the trick. The cane actually has a hole running through it a few inches below the top, visible in the detail of the inscription. The hole runs through the width of the cane and is lined in metal; it’s sturdy, and at just the right spot as a center of gravity of sorts. It was perfect – I just had to find the right material to run through this hole to keep the cane supported and at the correct angle. After trying multiple types of rope, twine – even extra strong fishing line – the material that worked best was regular clear packing tape. When folded over itself, the packing tape leaves no residue behind on the object, and it’s possible to fold it in odd shapes as you go. This was important, because I was able to create small bumps on either side of the cane, which did not cover any of the object when photographed but did keep the cane perfectly in place. The cane is very light, so this turned out to be the perfect option for keeping it in place. I ended up using two additional, much more powerful tapes to attach the packaging tape support to the wall and desk of the studio, to keep the cane in the correct position (this technique actually allowed me to change positions easily, so I could angle the cane and capture the inscription without having to reposition the entire setup).

Once the support was in place, the rest of the setup was straightforward. I positioned two lights with umbrellas as well as a simple grey backdrop, and was even able to shoot tethered with our high-resolution digital back (very important in checking the focus, especially on the inscription). I was able to capture the front, back, and a few details relatively easily, only needing to move the lights and slightly adjust the angle of the cane. Adjusting the cane was not a problem, but I waited approximately two minutes after I made any adjustments for any movement I created to cease. The final images did require some minor retouching – mainly just removing the evidence of tape from the grey background. The result was a set of high-resolution, clean final images that show all the important elements of the cane, and further proof that no photography studio can have too much tape on hand.

The final setup for photographing the cane, showing the packaging tape support attached to the studio wall and desk, the camera tethered to our capture computer, and a basic lighting setup.

A Public Art Mystery (part I)

December 11, 2014 by rness | 1 Comment

In preparation for the commemoration of the John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Library’s 50th year, Digital Production Services facilitated the digitization of a collection of photographs documenting the construction and opening of the Library. As I was producing metadata for one of the images, I paused…What was this? I’m pretty familiar with the public art on the Brown University campus, but this was a work I had never seen. I checked the University’s Public Art website…nothing.

Perplexing.

Two students consider a piece of public art at the entrance to the John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Library, c.1964-69.

The number “3” is legible on the right side of the center panel of the piece – and before it, I imagine I see the ghost of a “6”. Was the piece perhaps created in ’63, for the Library’s opening in November of ’64? Was this piece of art on the steps to the Rock fifty years ago today, as a temporary installation? Who created the sculpture and where is it now?

With many questions, and little information, I create an unsatisfactory description for the cataloging record. By crowdsourcing this mystery, perhaps the description will blossom with greater accuracy.

Digitizing the “mirror with a memory”

October 7, 2014 by lelgin | Comments Off on Digitizing the “mirror with a memory”

As we celebrate Brown’s 250th anniversary, Digital Production Services has been asked to digitize many historical university materials. Some of the earliest photographs in the university’s extensive collection are daguerreotypes made of graduating classes, and I was recently asked to digitize two these: the class of 1847; and the class of 1852.

The common reflective characteristics of a daguerreotype.

Daguerreotypes present several challenges in digitization, mainly due to their inherent physical characteristics. Above all else, daguerreotypes are by their very nature incredibly reflective. In this nineteenth century process, the actual photographic image is formed on a silver-coated copper plate that is polished to a mirror-like sheen. Depending on the lighting and viewing angle, even just hand-holding the daguerreotype may provide you with a clear image of the subject, or you may just be staring back at yourself. Additionally, daguerreotypes are often encased behind glass to protect the fragile image resting on the surface of the silver – helpful in maintaining image integrity, but adding another layer of reflection. In order to view the daguerreotypes (as well as digitize them) with any degree of success, you must control the lighting that strikes the object, and completely block out any object that would cause a reflection. Because lighter objects are always more visible in this type of reflective image, photographing a daguerreotype of any size requires surrounding the object with black foam, paper, or cloth that will help offset its reflective properties.

I approached photographing these daguerreotypes the same way I would approach any reflective material: by building what amounts to a tent around the object. Whereas with many objects (highly reflective silver with no printing, for instance) work best surrounded by white paper or foam core (or even semi-translucent vellum), daguerreotypes work best surrounded by all black. Black eliminates reflections, as well as helps make the image on the surface of the silver as clear and readable as possible. The most obvious reflection is often that or the camera itself; since I was photographing the daguerreotype reprographically, the camera was positioned directly above that polished silver surface. The best way to avoid seeing the camera’s reflection in the lens is to take a large sheet of black foam core, cut a small hole just for the lens of the camera, and cover the entire camera rig with the foam core.

Daguerreotype, Brown University, class of 1852: The image on the left shows the camera (with its various wires to the computer and strobes) directly reflected in the daguerreotype; the image on the right shows the same daguerreotype with the camera covered by black foam core.

Although it’s possible to just use a sheet of black foam core to reduce reflection, I built a small rig to hold the foam core up (hand holding it myself could potentially add camera shake) and reduce any reflections from the walls behind the camera (painted a light neutral grey, but still reflective). These photographs show the supports for the foam core and the hole I made for the lens, and then the final setup for shooting.

behind-the-scenes

Additionally, although proper focus is always important, it is particularly important when it comes to daguerreotypes. Daguerreotypes were developed in 1839, and these older processes required much longer exposure times than what we are used to: a typical exposure could last up to a minute or more. Because of this, at the time it was challenging to keep people in focus because it was difficult to keep them still; as a result, it can be tricky to make out faces due to the motion blur. Thus, when digitizing, keeping the focus as sharp as possibly is necessary to producing a readable image. For this daguerreotype, I actually placed the object on several blocks of foam core to focus into the encasement and reach the image on the plate beneath.

Finally, both daguerreotypes are suffering from degradation and corrosion, common problems for this sensitive and fragile type of photograph. They will soon be sent to the Northeast Document Conservation Center for conservation and repair.

Inside the Lost Museum

July 17, 2014 by rness | Comments Off on Inside the Lost Museum

Detail of an interior view of Brown University’s Museum of Natural History, c.1871-1894

This year, visitors to the Brown University campus have the opportunity to visit a museum that no longer exists; a museum that was systematically dismantled when the cabinet of curiosities approach to the display of natural history fell out of vogue, and after its founder, John Whipple Potter Jenks (1819-1894), dropped dead on the building’s steps. In 1891, the museum was viewed as a “showpiece of the University,” [1. Wilson, J. Walter, The Jenks Museum at Brown University. Books at Brown, Vol. XXII, 1968; Brown University Library, p.41] but this sentiment would not last. In his 1905 plea for University funds to support the museum, Professor Albert D. Mead, added that “the reasonableness of spending money for the dusting and rearranging of the miscellaneous curios of a university junk shop for the gratification of a few straggling sightseers is, we readily admit, not obvious.” [2. Ibid, p.54] Over time, the orphaned objects of the museum were scattered and forgotten; the majority of the collection was eventually discarded in the University’s dump by the Seekonk River.

John Whipple Potter Jenks

Today, the Jenks Museum of Natural History and Anthropology (1871-1894) has been resurrected and re-imagined by “The Jenks Society for Lost Museums,” a group comprised of students from the Center for Public Humanities at Brown, students from RISD, faculty advisors, and the artist Mark Dion. During the spring semester, the society tracked down remaining fragments of the original collection, re-envisioned Professor Jenks’s office, commissioned art objects based on lost artifacts, and installed the exhibit at the museum’s original home in Rhode Island Hall. At the project’s core sit questions about the permanence, or rather impermanence, of collecting and preservation.

Photographic evidence of the museum, as it was, can be found in the Brown University Archives. The Images of Brown collection holds seven interior views of the museum’s floor-to-ceiling displays, offering a window inside its eclectic space. The detailed image viewer allows for zooming in on a plethora of zoological specimens. The collection also includes a carte de visite of Jenks himself, taken in Florida where the naturalist collected many artifacts for the museum at Brown.

The Lost Museum will be on display in Rhode Island Hall (Brown University, 60 George Street, Providence, Rhode Island) through May 2015.

Commencement 1906

May 23, 2014 by btylr | Comments Off on Commencement 1906

This weekend marks Brown’s 246th commencement; shown below are two photos from the commencement ceremony of 1906, digitized for the Images of Brown project. The Brown 250 website features the earliest known video footage of a Brown commencement, from 1915.

Commencement 1906

The more things change…

February 21, 2014 by lelgin | 2 Comments

As winter in New England quickly becomes the house guest that has greatly outstayed its welcome, I thought it would be interesting to browse through the Brown Digital Repository for images of snow in Providence. I came upon this image with a view up Williams Street of the Nightingale Brown House. Trade in the horse-drawn carriage for some contemporary vehicles, and it’s not too far from the Williams Street we saw on Tuesday.

* Update: Many thanks to Ron Potvin, for correcting the information about this image. We have updated the post as well as our metadata in the BDR to reflect his insights.

c u r i o

Imaging rare, unusual, and intriguing objects at the Brown University Library

Category Archives: Images of Brown

A Public Art Mystery: part II (Polygons on Triangle)

Photographing the Edwards Cane

A Public Art Mystery (part I)

Digitizing the “mirror with a memory”

Inside the Lost Museum

Commencement 1906

The more things change…