Firsts and FrontiersLatest update March 8, 2019 Started on April 24, 2018
For 130 years the National Geographic Society has been on the
forefront of exploration, scientific discoveries, and documenting the world around us, in the process creating a treasure trove of knowledge about our planet. So how do we go about maintaining this knowledge, ensuring that people will still be able to access it, 130 years from now and beyond?
As we continue our long-term digitization project for the NG Library & Archives collections, one of our current focuses has been on performing inventories of the textual collection of the 1934-35 Stratosphere flights. Sometimes we find documents that might only be tangentially related to the Stratosphere project, but that are nonetheless of great historical interest. And we just so happened to stumble upon one of these right before International Women’s Day!
Below you can see a flyer for the Women’s National Air Meet, which took place in Dayton, Ohio on August 4th and 5th, 1934, and was one of the earliest all-female flying competitions (Captain Albert W. Stevens, pilot on the Stratophere flight, was based at Wright Field in Dayton – our best guess for how this advertisement ended up in these files). Early women aviators had already competed against men in several competitions, but pilot Florence Klingensmith’s fatal crash in the 1933 Frank Phillips Trophy Race was given as a pretext for disallowing women to compete against men. Thus competitions such as the Women’s National Air Meet were introduced, which gave women the opportunity to show that they could fly with just as much speed and skill as men.
Events included landing contests, parachute jumping contests, and free-for-all handicap races on both days of the competition. Research indicates that Helen Richey, a pioneering female pilot who was the first woman hired as a commercial airline pilot, took home the prize for the premier race in the competition.
Working with the Stratosphere documents and photographic materials has given us a great sense of the preparations, scientific calculations, and bravery that went into the early days of flying. It is easy to see how these pilots were an inspiration to many people during the time of the Great Depression. This flyer serves as a reminder that female pilots were some of the most influential role models at this time, and contributed some truly amazing feats in the early days of flight.
The World in Living Color
A bit of National Geographic trivia: the first natural color image to appear in National Geographic Magazine was printed in the July 1914 issue. The photo was of a flower garden in the Belgian city of Ghent, and the last sentence of the caption reads, “The picture makes one wonder which the more to admire--the beauty of the flowers or the power of the camera to interpret the luxuriant colors so faithfully.”
Long before color photography became commonplace and easy for the average photographer to shoot, NGM editor (and later Society president) Gilbert Hovey Grosvenor determined that Nat Geo should do its best to show members the world as it existed--in living color. He accomplished this by investing considerable time and money into hiring photographers who made Lumière Autochromes, a color photography process that employed dyed potato starch grains first patented in 1903. The National Geographic photo archive holds approximately 12,000 autochromes, as well as a substantial number of other early additive color processes, with around 13,000 total plates. It is, to our knowledge, one of the largest collections of its kind, and contains scenes from across the globe captured from the 1910s to the 1930s. In a 1928 letter, Grosvenor wrote, “Even if these photographs are not used in the Magazine or other publications of The Society, they will have great historical value in future years…”
Grosvenor had no idea how right he would be; ninety years later, we’re now in the process of figuring out how to digitize and share our Autochrome Collection with the world.
Innovations in Color Photography
Though the Lumière brothers in France began manufacturing the first truly commercially viable color photographic process with the Autochrome in 1907, other competitors followed closely behind in the early twentieth century. Other color processes employed by National Geographic and their contractors included Dufaycolor, invented in 1909 using a pattern of green lines that crossed violet and orange to form a crosshatch, and Finlaycolor, an English competitor launched in 1908 that employed a grid of red, green, and violet lines. Most similar to the Autochrome was the Agfacolor process. Patented in 1908 by a Danish scientist and first manufactured in 1916, Agfacolor used a randomly patterned screen of violet, green, and orange dyes. Each process produced a screen pattern visible at the microscopic level, which result in identifiably distinctive color images.
Agfacolor process (Photographer: Gervais Courtellemont)
Lumière Autochrome process (Photographer: Orren Louden)
Dufaycolor process (Photographer: Robert Moore)
Finlay process (Photographers: Clifton Adams and Edwin Wisherd)
These various color processes were prized for different reasons; while the Lumière Autochrome offered the preferred smoothness and naturalistic look, Finlays required substantially less exposure time and could be captured in much more diverse settings. For example, in 1930 Melville Bell Grosvenor took what we believe to be the first aerial color photographs using the Finlay process. Throughout the 1930s, Nat Geo photographers used all of the aforementioned color processes in different circumstances depending on the nature of the assignment and environmental conditions. However, by 1938 the small-format Kodachrome color film from Eastman Kodak had revolutionized color photography in the field for National Geographic. The amount of mosaic color processes published in the magazine dropped precipitously by 1939, replaced largely by Kodachrome and Ektachrome color film. By the early 1940s, the era of arduous glass-plate photography at Nat Geo was at its end, thanks to the pioneering efforts of National Geographic photographers such as Luis Marden, as well as the Beck Engraving Company, whose innovative work made it possible to print color images from small-format film.
In the end, the early color processes that employed fragile glass plates and sensitive chemicals only lasted for a few decades as the commercially-viable answer to color photography before new and improved film processes took hold. While Kodachrome opened up amazing possibilities for the intrepid Nat Geo photographers in the field, our collection of early color processes remains a treasure trove of beautiful and historically invaluable photographs taken during a period of rapid change throughout the world.
The Digital Revolution
Much like color photography in the early twentieth century, the pace of progress in the world of digital cultural heritage means rapid improvement in our ability to capture digital surrogates of our various analog materials. Our current setup employs a 100MP digital camera on a modular copy stand, which we can use to capture both reflective (photographic prints, documents, etc.) and transmissive (glass plate transparencies, film negatives, etc.) materials of various sizes. The technological advances made in the last 5-10 years allow us to capture at an unprecedented quality, and, as appropriate, to digitally restore objects that have deteriorated throughout the decades.
As we prepare to digitize the many and varied objects in our collections, we need to do a substantial amount of prep work, which includes researching the best method to use depending on the materials. For example, the only substantial research we found on the digitization of autochromes recommended lighting the object using a collimated light source rather than a diffuse light source (which we typically use for transmissive materials). To help us look into this a bit further, our friends at DT Cultural Heritage in New York hunted up a collimated light and came down to Washington for some hands-on experimentation. To decide whether or not to pursue using a collimated light, we compared digitized images of the plates using both the collimated light and the diffuse light. During this process, we also made some interesting discoveries regarding how different types of illumination can help us record condition and conservation concerns for the original object.
Though we still have some research to do and a lot of decisions to make regarding the best way to digitize these phenomenal images, we got some shots that capture the beautiful detail of these early color photography processes, and a good idea of the many factors we need to consider as we move forward. As the saying goes, the devil is in the details, and we want to be sure whatever digitization specifications we choose will appropriately convey not only the beauty of the images as a whole, but also the subtleties and imperfections of these fascinating processes.
Though we’re at the very beginning of this journey, we hope to share some updates on our progress soon. We’re all very excited to start work with these images, as well as the background research on the photographers and their journeys. See below for a few full-frame examples of the photographs in this collection, and stay tuned to learn the stories behind them.
Many thanks to Doug Peterson, Head of R&D at DT Cultural Heritage, and Wayne Cozzolino, our DT sales rep and equipment guru, for spending their time and expertise to help us with this project! If you're interested in the technical details, you can read Doug's analysis over on the DT Cultural Heritage blog.
The Lumière Autochrome: History, Technology, and Preservation by Bertrand Lavédrine and Jean-Paul Gandolfo, with the collaboration of Christine Caperdou and Ronan Guinée; 2013.(http://www.getty.edu/conservation/publicationsresources/books/lumiereautochrome.html))
The team here at National Geographic has been working hard to continue with our mission to catalogue and digitize some of the most significant areas of our collection, including the Aquascope, Stratosphere, and Space Collection materials that we wrote about a few months ago. We are also continuing to image at-risk film that has vinegar syndrome, as discussed in the last post, from the Volkmar Wentzel Collection. It occured to me belatedly that we never told the story behind many (though not all) of the materials that exhibit vinegar syndrome; though these objects have deteriorated, we’re lucky to have them at all.
These materials, along with items that are still in relatively good condition, were rescued from weeding by editor Volkmar “Kurt” Wentzel in the 1970s, when the National Geographic photo archive was still used as much more of an “image library” for publication needs, rather than as a valuable historical resource and record of Nat Geo’s work to gather and disseminate geographic knowledge. Wentzel rescued approximately 12,000 photos from being thrown out and adopted them into his own collection, where they lived until the early 2000s. When Wentzel passed away, his wife generously donated the collection back to National Geographic. Unfortunately, lack of climate control for many years triggered the onset of vinegar syndrome in many of these photos, hence our need to keep them in cold storage and digitize as quickly as we can.
Though many of the photos in the collection are by other National Geographic staff members and photographers, we do have quite a few shot by Wentzel himself. Last Friday, we digitized a batch of images from a National Geographic Magazine feature from 1954 titled “Man’s New Servant, the Friendly Atom,” a story that delved into America’s optimistic postwar love affair with atomic energy. Wentzel’s photography of work in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and Brookhaven, Long Island’s nuclear power plants evokes both the promise and the incredible fragility of the “still-mysterious energy” that article author F. Barrows Colton described as “an elusive and ghostlike thing.”
Wentzel’s photographs, which illustrate the many uses of atomic energy, evoke in the modern viewer both a sense of nostalgia and a certain nervousness. Nuclear power never quite took off as a major energy solution, in part due to several high-profile nuclear disasters, but in an age where increasingly alarming data on climate change makes our future uncertain, the atom might look a bit friendlier again.
One of the coolest parts about this project is the “behind-the-scenes” nature of digitizing all of the photographs in a batch and wondering about the stories that ultimately didn’t end up published in NGM. Take a look at some of the unpublished images from Wentzel’s tour of U.S. nuclear facilities--what piques your interest?
Learn more about Kurt Wentzel and his remarkable career with National Geographic over at Long Exposure: Our Friend Wentzel's 50 Year Adventure as my colleagues Sara Manco and Melissa Sagen tell his story.
Our mission to digitize the National Geographic archives is now approximately five months underway, and as we noted in our last post, we have been tackling some pretty exciting projects. From outer space to the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay, we’ve been working hard to inventory and digitize key moments in National Geographic exploration history. Within this mission, one of our top priorities has become digitizing film that is deteriorating quickly due to vinegar syndrome. We are essentially in a race against time to ensure that these images don’t disappear from our archive altogether!
What is vinegar syndrome? Why is it a problem?
This chemical process specifically affects cellulose acetate film, which was introduced in the early twentieth century to replace nitrate film, a highly flammable and unstable film base. Though this “safety film” was much more stable and safe to use than nitrate, film manufacturers and photographers discovered that acetate film degraded quickly in certain conditions, specifically heat and humidity. By the time this degradation was reported and studied extensively, acetate film was in widespread use across the world.
Vinegar syndrome is the common term for the chemical breakdown that occurs when acetate film bases start to decompose, named for the vinegary smell that accompanies the release of acetic acid. The deterioration causes the plastic film base to become brittle and misshapen, thereby causing the base to separate from the gelatin emulsion (which forms the actual photographic image itself). Once it has started, this chemical reaction will continue, with visible decay increasing drastically once the decomposition reaches a certain point. Though keeping film in cold storage can slow the process of decomposition, acetate film with vinegar syndrome will eventually become unusable and the photographic image will be lost.
Yikes! That sounds pretty bad. How many photographs are at risk?
Our Senior Photo Archivist, Sara Manco, has taken steps to delay the spread and progress of vinegar syndrome in our materials by placing the film that is showing symptoms into cold storage. She has also taken the precaution of quarantining the materials with the most advanced decay by placing them in separate boxes that are wrapped in archival lining and sealed in plastic bags. Overall, there are approximately 3,000-3,500 pieces of film in a state of advancing decay. We are prioritizing these materials for digitization by implementing “Fish and Chips Fridays” (get it?) in the imaging lab.
So what’s the method for digitizing these materials?
In order to keep the deteriorating film quarantined and safely away from other objects that could catch this syndrome, we made the decision to dedicate Fridays to this particular digitization workflow. We chose Fridays so that we could be sure to thoroughly clean our equipment and any surfaces in the lab that came into contact with vinegar syndrome film, and to air out the space over the weekend. As you may guess, it can be quite unpleasant to spend long periods of time in a small room filled with smelly film! In addition to causing harm to other objects, vinegar syndrome can also cause skin and mucous-membrane irritation, so it’s important to limit the amount of time our team spends interacting with the materials. At the end of the day, the safety of our staff is just as important as the safety of the objects we are trying to preserve.
On a typical Fish and Chips Friday, our Project Manager, Julie, retrieves a box of film from cold storage for a quick collation and inventory while the Digitization Specialist, Kendall, sets up the camera equipment. While we would typically acclimate these materials to room temperature over time, the objects we are currently digitizing are so sufficiently degraded that we have made the judgement call that there is no real advantage to acclimation to prevent further degradation. Once the materials are collated and recorded in our scanning log, we are ready to begin digitization.
Because we are working with degraded materials, it is important to balance speed, careful object handling, condition reporting as necessary, and precise imaging procedure. To ensure that we are able to meet all of these goals, we work in a two-person team to stage materials, digitize, and rehouse. Using this two-person team, we can usually get through approximately 150-200 objects in the space of two to three hours. Once we finish up for the day, Kendall performs a quick quality assurance check to make sure nothing is out of focus or otherwise in need of rescanning. When everything looks good, the objects are whisked back to cold storage and we begin post-processing.
What comes after digitization?
Because the majority of the vinegar syndrome objects are negatives, we have to do some extra processing work--aside from the usual cropping, straightening, and export--to produce a faithful content reproduction of the image. Processing these images out and ensuring that the appropriate metadata is connected to the image file usually takes even more time than actually digitizing the objects (which is true for all of our projects!). However, at the end of the process we are able to store both a faithful object reproduction of the film itself as well as a content reproduction of the photographic image for future researchers to use. Using appropriate editing tools, we will even be able to digitally remove some of the damage from vinegar syndrome deterioration for a digital “restoration” of the artist’s intended rendering if necessary.
Though we can’t turn back time on the damage to these objects, we can make sure that the digital reproduction is available even after the physical object is unusable. The collection includes images from all around the world taken by National Geographic photographers depicting a wide range of subjects, from daily life in Kuala Lumpur to rural landscapes in British Columbia. In addition to beautiful imagery, they are documents of a world that, in many places, no longer exists. Understanding and accessing this past is an important part of National Geographic’s mission to further geographic knowledge and global awareness, and the Digital Preservation Archive team is excited to engage in this important work.
Further reading on Vinegar Syndrome:
Vinegar Syndrome, National Film Preservation Foundation: https://www.filmpreservation.org/preservation-basics/vinegar-syndrome
Acetate Film Base Deterioration - The Vinegar Syndrome, Image Permanence Institute: https://www.imagepermanenceinstitute.org/resources/newsletter-archive/v12/vinegar-syndrome
Vinegar Syndrome, AIC Wiki: http://www.conservation-wiki.com/wiki/Vinegarsyndrome
In celebration of World Digital Preservation Day, we wanted to provide an update on our progress so far with the Digital Preservation Archive, as well as showcase some of the other historic National Geographic expeditions that our Library + Archives team has posted about on Open Explorer:
Our first big undertaking for digitization has been the photographic collection for the National Geographic Society-U.S. Army Air Corps Stratosphere Flights. We’ve completed scanning and cleaned up metadata for B&W prints that have been stored in photo albums, and the next step will be to perform quality control before sending the scans to cloud storage. Negatives and textual documents are next on-deck to be digitized.
The Apollo program continues to be our focus for digitizing our materials related to space exploration. Inventories have been completed for Apollo missions 4 through 17, and are continuing for supporting materials such as astronaut training and the Lunar Orbiter program. Unpublished photographic materials for Apollo 4 through Apollo 7 have been scanned, and Apollo 8 is in progress – look out for an update on our To the Moon and Back expedition in anticipation of Apollo 8’s 50th anniversary later in December!
We’ve also been working on inventorying our collection of Aquascope materials, both photographic and textual. It’s a relatively small collection, but many of the unpublished 35mm slides were not kept in any particular order (disrespect des fonds?), which has made organization a bit tricky. When we’ve completed the Aquascope materials, we’ll have a wonderful collection of high-quality scans featuring underwater photography from Chesapeake Bay.
Fish and Chips Fridays is our dedicated time for digitizing high-priority materials that are suffering from vinegar syndrome. Stay tuned for an upcoming behind-the-scenes post about this important work.
Our expedition really begins with the unveiling of our brand new Phase One iXG 100MP camera! As with any digitization project, we need to be able to produce high-quality digital images of our physical materials, so this camera is a key part of the DPA project. In addition to all of the NG staff that helped to acquire and set up our new equipment, we've also received lots of training and assistance from Wayne Cozzolino and Spencer Zidarich of Digital Transitions.
This video shows us getting the camera operational and a glimpse of the Capture One software we're using to process our image files. We'll be sharing more posts from behind the scenes as we continue with our digitization project.
Filming and editing credit: Steve Pickard
The Digital Preservation Archive (DPA) project will be an exploration
of how we can achieve the goal of maintaining the National Geographic Society's institutional knowledge and sharing it with the world. Our aim is to develop a workflow that efficiently adapts legacy archival collections to preservation-quality digital surrogates in a consistent manner. This will aid in the preservation of physical materials by limiting the need to remove these materials from storage, increase discoverability of archival materials through the capture of robust metadata, and allow for access by people across the globe for educational and research purposes.
Although we are not venturing outside the walls of National Geographic HQ, we still consider this to be very much an expedition. Much planning and funding has gone into making the DPA a possibility, and we are stepping into the unknown somewhat by taking on a digitization project of this magnitude. We’ll be documenting our progress, celebrating our accomplishments, and not hiding our missteps -- this is a learning experience for all of us! We look forward to having you join us on our journey.
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