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As the weather in Central New York is getting colder, and the winter is inevitably approaching, I can’t help but recall the humid summer of Washington, DC. Over the summer of 2016, I interned at Smithsonian Libraries. As a summer intern, I worked at the Department of Digital Programs and Initiatives on the “Cataloging across collections” project. The project was focused on metadata and cataloging. During my internship I worked on digital curation of the records in Biodiversity Heritage Library as well as cataloging field notes for the Field Book Project. Both aspects of my internship were coordinated by mentors assigned by the Smithsonian Libraries – Bianca Crowley, Digital Collections Manager of Biodiversity Heritage Library, and Lesley Parilla, Cataloging Coordinator of the Field Book Project. During my internship I met with Smithsonian Institution staff members, toured different departments, attended the staff picnic, and, most importantly, improved my understanding of the technical services in libraries.

Although working on metadata projects was quite challenging, it helped me to gain confidence as an information professional. As a librarian, I’ve always known that the information organization is important, but I didn’t realize how much properly maintained bibliographic descriptions can improve the user experience. Especially, when the audience can only interact with online assets. Biodiversity Heritage Library is a unique digital collection of the resources in Natural Sciences. My work focused on editing metadata for existing records, which included author merging, editing of volume information, title merging, and linking of the serial records. I received training in 2 internal systems, the Gemini Issue Tracker and BHL Administrative Dashboard to work on these tasks.

On the first week of my internship, I needed to link several volumes together. “Den Norske Nordhavs-expedition, 1876-1878” gives an account of the Norwegian North-Atlantic expedition in the 19th century, commanded by Carl Fredrik Wille, Captain of the Royal Navy. Since I have interest in Scandinavian languages, I enjoyed interacting with this resource. This and many other assignments throughout my internship taught me the importance of metadata standards. Seeing both librarian and user perspectives on the information-retrieval systems became an eye-opening experience for me.

 

“Den Norske Nordhavs-expedition, 1876-1878”, bd. 5, pt. 17 [Alcyonida], tab. I

“Den Norske Nordhavs-expedition, 1876-1878”, bd. 5, pt. 17 [Alcyonida], tab.

Further into my internship, I was trained to upload the scanned images into the Internet Archive, the platform that hosts the BHL assets. I used another internal system, Macaw, for this purpose. As I was uploading the new images, I assigned page-level metadata. One of the publications I was working with was Bonn Zoological Bulletin. I had so much fun working on the metadata-level description of William Mann’s scrapbook from his trip to South East Asia for the Field Book Project. One of my favorite serials was Canadian Forest Industries, a magazine that was renamed at least 6 times before its current title. While I was adding volume information and page level metadata, I encountered amazing illustrations and advertisement campaigns from Florists’ Review, that is a wonderful compilation of the marketing tools of the past.

Canadian Forest Industries, formerly known as Canadian Lumberman, Jan 1903.

Drawing from the Florists’ Review April 1913 v.31 no.797 (801) p.17

Front page of from the Florists’ Review December 1922, Christmas edition v. 51 no.1306

In addition to learning many essential skills for technical services in libraries, during my internship I worked with Camtasia software. Screen-casting was used to develop tutorials for BHL Staff about working in the BHL “Admin Dash.” I recorded one video that focused on merging author records together. During the internship I also presented at a Brown Bag presentation in front of Smithsonian Libraries staff, my mentors, and other interns.

I would like to express gratitude to my mentors – Bianca Crowley, Digital Collections Manager at Biodiversity Heritage Library, and Lesley Parilla, Cataloging Coordinator of the Field Book Project, and the entire Department of Digital Programs and Initiatives for their guidance and support. I would also like to thank LIS Program Director at Syracuse University – Jill Hurst-Wahl, and my Academic Advisor – Barbara Stripling, for their invaluable insights on the US library system. My boundless gratitude goes to Cultural Vistas and the Edmund S. Muskie Internship Program that made it possible for me to intern in Washington, D.C. during the summer of 2016. Being a part of the Smithsonian Institution was an unforgettable life experience, which I will proudly carry with me throughout my library career!

This post originally published on the Smithsonian Libraries blog Unbound. 

Important entomological work. The Bahá’í faith. Secret tunnels under Washington, DC. What do all of these elements have in common? Curiously, Smithsonian scientist Harrison Gray Dyar, Jr..

Dyar, Honorary Custodian of Lepidoptera at the United States National Museum (now, National Museum of Natural History) for over 30 years, was a prolific entomologist – studying sawflies, moths, butterflies and mosquitos and publishing his findings. He described hundreds of species and genera and brought new ones to light. “Dyar’s Law”, a standard rule used to measure premature insects, is named in his honor.

Harrison G. Dyar, Jr., third from right, with Entomology staff of the U.S. National Museum in 1905. Courtesy of Smithsonian Institution Archives.

Yet, the work of this successful entomologist is often overshadowed by his fascinating personal life. Dyar was a bigamist and consequently dismissed from the USDA for conduct unbecoming of a federal employee. He practiced the Bahá’í faith, a movement that seeks to reconcile science with religion. And perhaps most newsworthy: he dug a series of mysterious tunnels beneath his home in Northwest DC. Tunnels that many believed were the work of spies until Dyar finally fessed up.

Starting today, you can be a part of the scientific legacy of this interesting figure in Smithsonian science. The Smithsonian Institution Archives has uploaded five volumes of Dyar’s “blue books” (notebooks in which he jotted down scientific observations) to the Smithsonian Transcription Center. Volunteers are encouraged to dive into the books and help us transcribe Dyar’s work for future study.

Cover of “Bluebook 401-414”, by H.G. Dyar. Digitized by Smithsonian Institution Archives. http://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/46177763.

From now until May 20th, we’ll be encouraging everyone to #DigIntoDyar with a series of blog posts about Dyar’s work as well as a live Google Hangout on May 17th (2:30, EDT). Both will feature National Museum of Natural History research associate and Dyar biographer, Marc Epstein. Marc, who recently published Moths, Myths and Mosquitos: The Eccentric Life of Harrison G. Dyar, Jr., will help us understand Dyar’s work, his sordid personal life, and his legacy.

Along the way, we’ll be sharing other tidbits and images via social media. We hope you’ll tune in as we #DigIntoDyar and learn more about this fascinating part of Smithsonian history.

You can browse Dyar’s field notebooks in BHL, digitized by Smithsonian Institution Archives as part of the Field Book Project. Below are the BHL links to the field notes that are part of this challenge, as well as the links to those projects in the Smithsonian Transcription Center to help you get started transcribing right away!

Happy Digging!

H. G. Dyar – Bluebook 401- 414, 1893-1894 | https://transcription.si.edu/project/8144
H. G. Dyar – Bluebook 415-435, 1893-1894 | https://transcription.si.edu/project/8145
H. G. Dyar – Bluebook 436-450, 1893-1894 | https://transcription.si.edu/project/8146
H. G. Dyar – Bluebook 451-473, 1894 | https://transcription.si.edu/project/8147
H. G. Dyar, Bluebook 474-491, 1894-1897 | https://transcription.si.edu/project/8148

It is the study of crustaceans, a group of arthropods that includes lobsters, crayfish, shrimp, krill, barnacles and crabs. One of the pre-eminent carcinologists (a scientist who studies crustaceans) of the first half of the twentieth century was Waldo LaSalle Schmitt. Born on this day (June 25) in 1887 in Washington, D.C., Schmitt held various positions within the United States Department of Agriculture, the Smithsonian, and the United States Bureau of Fisheries throughout his career. He authored more than 70 titles over his lifetime and was a member of numerous professional organizations, including president of the Society of Systematic Zoology and the Washington Academy of Sciences and a trustee of the Bear’s Bluff Laboratories, the International Oceanographic Foundation, and the Serological Museum of Rutgers University.

Waldo Schmitt. Obituary. Crustaceana (34) 1, 1978. http://decapoda.nhm.org/pdfs/14597/14597.pdf.

While his primary field of investigation was carcinology, Schmitt actually began his career in 1907 as an Aid in Economic Botany for the United States Department of Agriculture, and his early work with natural history involved the study of both the flora and fauna of D.C. and Maryland. It was in 1910 that his true love affair with marine invertebrates began when he was appointed Aid in the Division of Marine Invertebrates at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History (NMNH). During the appointment, he met Mary Jane Rathbun, a fellow Smithsonian zoologist who specialized in crustaceans and described more than a thousand new species and subspecies and many higher taxa over her career. Her influence helped set Schmitt on his carcinology track, and an opportunity with the United States Bureau of Fisheries from 1911-14 helped solidify that decision.

From 1911-14, the USS Albatross, an iron-hulled, twin-screw steamer in the United States Navy that was reputedly the first research vessel ever built especially for marine research, conducted a scientific investigation of the west coast of America and Alaska. The expedition examined existing and searched for new fishing grounds around Alaska, surveyed existing fishing grounds off Washington and Oregon, and performed a biological survey of the San Francisco Bay. Schmitt served as Scientific Assistant and Naturalist aboard the Albatross during this expedition, and used the crustaceans gathered during the survey as the material for his M.A. thesis for the University of California, entitled The Marine Decapod Crustacea of California.

Diagram of a macruran decapod. Schmitt, Waldo. The Marine Decapod Crustacea of California. 1921. http://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/37061600.

Following the survey, Schmitt returned to NMNH, where he held various positions in the Division of Marine Invertebrates (serving as Assistant Curator from 1915-20 and Curator from 1920-43), the Department of Biology (serving as Head Curator from 1943-47), and the Department of Zoology (Head Curator from 1947-57). After his retirement in 1957, Schmitt continued to serve as an Honorary Research Associate with the Smithsonian until his death in 1977.

Over his career, Schmitt took part in many more biological expeditions and field trips, studying crustaceans and other biodiversity in California, Florida, South America, the Galapagos Islands, and the West Indies. His last expedition took him to Antarctica.

View of vessel during specimen collecting near Peterman Island, Antarctica, 1962-63.  SIA RU007231, Box 140, Folder. Taken during Waldo Schmitt’s collecting during the Palmer Peninsula Survey 1962-63. Smithsonian Institution Archives. https://www.flickr.com/photos/smithsonian/6350334901/in/album-72157628142203202/.

The Palmer Peninsula Survey of the United States Antarctic Research Program studied marine invertebrates and vertebrates, geography, botany, and entomology in and around multiple Antarctic sites from 1962-63. Schmitt collected over 29,000 specimens for the NMNH during the survey, and in recognition of his work, a thirty-mile ice-covered series of outcrops at the base of the Antarctic Peninsula was named after him – Schmitt Mesa.

Schmitt kept a series of field books detailing his work on the Palmer Peninsula Survey, and two of them, covering the period from November 24, 1962-March 10, 1963, have been digitized by The Field Book Project and made available within the Biodiversity Heritage Library. They have also both been fully transcribed within the Smithsonian Transcription Center, making it even easier for you to browse Schmitt’s incredible notes (Diary 1 and Diary 2).

Penguins on the Palmer Peninsula, 10-11am, January 28, 1963. SIA RU007231, Box 140, Folder. Taken during Waldo Schmitt’s collecting during the Palmer Peninsula Survey 1962-63. Smithsonian Institution Archives. https://www.flickr.com/photos/smithsonian/6351079304/in/album-72157628142203202/.

An interesting excerpt from one of Schmitt’s digitized field books reveals his frustrations with the “college textbook oceanographers” serving on the Palmer Peninsula Survey. As Schmitt writes,

“College ‘students’ Ph.D.’s afloat. Two men are supposed to be on duty each operation or separate phase of work. Often (or at least at times) only one is around; and that one goes down to wake his relief; then without waiting to see that the awakened man gets up and onto the job goes off to bed. [It’s inconceivable].

Expensive gear is being towed behind, needs competent watch and attention, yet when ship stops or changes course, gear (or magnetometer) is endangered & then lost, and guy in charge of it blames the bridge for not notifying him of change – “they did not tell me.” Seems as though an alert man would realize change of course, absence of engine vibrations would sense at least some change requiring instrument care or retrieval. Much the same happens when wind direction dial in lab fails to register; student is aghast, I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t get wind direction or force – a practical or experienced man could look outside or even through port & form an estimate as any old sea dog knows. Now I know why Coast guards & others are trained in sailing ships – to get practical experience – and to be able to form personal creditable and accurate determinations of wind, weather & sea conditions.

It would seem that any college textbook-oceanographer should serve an internship at Coast guard Acad (however limited) before being entrusted with valuable expensive and hard to replace gear & instruments. Nobody would let doctors fresh out of college operate on you, unless had interns experience, yet these Ph.D’s are turned loose without any first hand real practical [knowledge] of sea, & when balled out by one who knows the sea they resent it because man has had no college training… [they think] they know better because of textbook knowledge & the degree they have, a Ph.D. never made a man out of what wasn’t.”

Be sure to check out Schmitt’s field books to get more fascinating insight into the day-to-day life of a scientist at work in Antarctica.

Schmitt’s career was truly a remarkable one, contributing extensively to our knowledge of biodiversity and particularly crustaceans. In addition to the Schmitt Mesa named in his honor, the clam genus Waldo also bears his namesake. Check out other works by Waldo Schmitt in BHL and browse photos taken by him during his many expeditions, including the Palmer Peninsula Survey, from The Field Book Project in Flickr.

Art is an integral part of scientific investigation and documentation. Before the advent of photography, illustrations were used to capture intricate species details, habitat appearance, and even behaviors such as predation. Photography gained popularity as a visual recording method within scientific publications in the late nineteenth-early twentieth centuries, over time increasing the efficiency and accuracy by which nature could be recorded.

Predation recorded via scientific illustration. Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London. pt. 28 (1860). http://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/12867034.

Scientific illustrations and photographs are an important part of the Biodiversity Heritage Library. They are highlighted via social media on Flickr and Pinterest and are the subject of recent projects, (including Flickr image tagging for Art of Life and our Zooniverse Science Gossip portal) aimed at improving access to and discoverability of these important scientific resources. A recent post even articulated how scientific images from BHL are inspiring modern art.

Scientific art may be presented either through final publications or within the pages of scientists’ field notes. The latter often serve as the basis for more formal publication illustrations or provide details upon which authors may base their written descriptions of species or environments. In many cases, they help reveal new insights into an organism’s physiology, morphology and ethology.

Entomologists Maria Sibylla Merian and Robert E. Silberglied offer excellent examples of the importance of art in scientific investigation.

The Artistic Legacy of the Mother of Entomology

Maria Sibylla Merian, born on this day (April 2) in Frankfurt in 1647, is recognized as one of the most significant contributors to the field of entomology. Raised within a family of artists, Maria developed a fascination with insects, especially moths and butterflies, at an early age. By observing and sketching the silkworms that fed on the mulberry in her yard, she discovered that the silkworms turned into moths. She soon expanded her investigations to include as many caterpillars as she could, realizing that each of them metamorphisized into various butterflies and moths.

Illustrating insect metamorphosis. Merian, Maria Sibylla. Metamorphosis insectorum surinamensium. 1705. http://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/41398732.

At the age of 28, Maria published her first book of botanical illustrations in 1675, entitled Neues Blumenbuch. In 1699, she was awarded a grant by the then-governor of the Dutch colony of Suriname to travel with her daughter, Dorothea, to South America to explore and illustrate local animals and plants. She spent two years traveling around Suriname, including what later became known as the French, Dutch and British Guianas, illustrating wildlife with particular attention to capturing insect metamorphosis. In 1705 she published her work in Metamorphosis Insectorum Surinamensium with 60 plates depicting the full life cycle of many Suriname insects.

Maria’s illustrations were important and revolutionary for a number of reasons. The observations and evidence they displayed helped overturn the prevailing theory of the time that insects spontaneously generated from mud. Additionally, Maria drew her subjects from life in their natural environments. Most naturalists of the day illustrated species from dead, preserved specimens, which contributed to a lack of knowledge about the true life cycle and origin of insects. Finally, Maria also portrayed the host plant for the species she studied and even illustrated the damage the insects left on the plants.

Illustration depicting insect metamorphosis and damage left on plants by insects. Merian, Maria Sibylla. Metamorphosis insectorum surinamensium. 1705. http://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/41398694.

Sadly, Maria’s Suriname expedition was cut short by an illness that forced her to return to the Dutch Republic. In 1715 she suffered a stroke which left her partially paralyzed and affected her ability to work. She died two years later in 1717 and was listed in a local registry as a pauper.

While Maria’s sex and lack of formal education resulted in her work largely fading into obscurity for many centuries after her death, she was rediscovered in the twentieth century, and today we properly recognize her significant contributions to science and how art enabled her to reveal new truths about the natural world. You can learn more about Maria in our Early Women in Science exhibit.

A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words (or field entries…)

Several centuries after Maria’s lifetime, entomologist Robert E. Silberglied was making his own discoveries about butterflies using another artistic medium: photography.

Portrait of Robert E. Silberglied, circa 1975. RU 007316, Box 16, folder 7. SIA2012-7932.

Silberglied was educated at Cornell University and Harvard University, and he began his professional career upon his appointment in 1973 as Assistant Professor of Biology at Harvard University and Assistant Curator of Lepidoptera at the Museum of Comparative Zoology (MCZ). In 1976, he accepted an additional appointment as a biologist at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute (STRI), spending half the year in Cambridge and the other half in the American tropics.

Silberglied’s work was chiefly focused on Lepidoptera, and he was especially interested in insect vision, ultraviolet reflectance in butterflies, and courtship, mating and reproductive behavior. As a previous post by Emily Hunter from The Field Book Project describes, photography was an integral part of Silberglied’s investigations into these topics. He used photographs to capture transient butterfly behaviors such as courtship displays, which allowed him to study the activities in more detail. But perhaps more revolutionary than this, he used photography to “see what a butterfly sees.”

Photograph of Anartia jatrophae (Nymphalidae) in the midst of expanding its wings after exiting the pupa, the remains of which can be seen next to the butterfly. Robert E. Silberglied, undated (circa 1970s). SIA RU7316, Box 17, Folder 5. SIA2012-7947.

Butterflies are able to see ultraviolet patterns invisible to the human eye. These patterns, as Emily Hunter describes, “assist butterflies with camouflage, finding nectar in a flower, communicating, and attracting a mate.” A small field book from 1972, Costa Rica, describes Silberglied’s methodology for capturing these UV patterns, which included two 35mm lenses attached to 16mm motion picture cameras (one recording color film, the other recording UV). This technique allowed Silberglied to “translat[e] the invisible UV patterns to human visible images.” Learn more in Silberglied’s article about the subject. Silberglied’s field materials include a host of photographs capturing minute details, including a fascinating picture of butterfly wing patterns.

Photograph depicting a magnified butterfly wing, undated, by Robert Silberglied. SIA RU7316, Box 16, Folder 15. SIA2012-7946.

Sadly, Robert E. Silberglied was killed in 1982 (at the age of 36) in the Air Florida plane crash. His use of an artistic medium to uncover knowledge about butterflies was revolutionary and inspirational. As Ms. Hunter ponders, “who knows what he would have accomplished today with the abundance of new imaging technologies, as well as advances in sound recording, molecular techniques, and sophisticated methods of tracking individual butterflies.”

You can view Robert E. Silberglied’s field notes in BHL, digitized by The Field Book Project.

Maria Sibylla Merian and Robert E. Silberglied used art to capture important data and discover new truths about insect behavior and life cycles. These two incredible individuals illustrate the powerfully impactful intersection between art and science and demonstrate how the convergence of distinct disciplines can open new doors, overturn false notions, and excite a whole new era of scientific discovery.