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September « 2014 « The Polar Museum: news blog

The Polar Museum: news blog

Archive for September, 2014

For one week only… 3 Siberian objects on display in The Polar Museum

Thursday, September 18th, 2014

This week, we are preparing a number of beautiful objects from our reserve collections to be sent to the Manchester Museum for an exhibition  ‘Siberia: At the Edge of the World’ which opens 4 October 2014 – 1 March 2015.

Until Saturday 20 September, we have put other similar objects on display in the museum.

N373a-bCROPPED

Nentsy knife with sheath. SPRI Museum: N: 373a-b. Given by Mrs F. G. Jackson, 1939

This Nentsy knife with sheath from the Yamal region would have been used for ceremonial purposes. The Yamal Peninsula is a stretch of peatland that extends from northern Siberia into the Kara Sea, far above the Arctic Circle. To the east lie the shallow waters of the Gulf of Ob; to the west, the Baydaratskaya Bay, which is ice-covered for most of the year. Yamal in the language of the Nenets means the end of the world.

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Hair Ornaments. SPRI Museum N: 384f-h. Given by Mrs F. G. Jackson, 1939

These hair ornaments are made of brass, beads and sinew, and were worn by Nentsy women to decorate their plaits. These examples were collected by Frederick George Jackson during his 3000 mile sledge-journey across the frozen tundra of Siberia in 1893–94.  The Nenets, also known as Samoyed, are an  indigenous people of the Russsian far north, whose main subsistence comes from hunting and reindeer herding.

Bridget Cusack
Museum Development Coordinator

Light relief, part 1: keeping an eye on things

Monday, September 15th, 2014

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about light so this is the first in a series of posts about how and why we try to control the amount of light in our galleries. Conservators get very exercised about light, and with good reason: many objects are damaged by exposure to visible and ultraviolet (UV) light. The damage caused is irreversible and can include fading of pigments, bleaching, discoloration, embrittlement, shrinkage, cracking, weakening…. if we conservators had our way, all our objects would be kept permanently in the dark!

Of course, this is a museum, so our objects have to be on display a lot of the time. An important part of the conservators’ job, therefore, is to find ways to make our objects accessible without allowing them to become too damaged from display. Like most things, this involves a certain amount of compromise, and I’ll be talking about how we manage lighting for exhibitions in a later blog post.

Christina using a light monitor in the gallery



A key aspect of our collection care programme is monitoring the amount of light there is in the gallery – both inside and outside the showcases. In the picture above, I’m using a hand-held light sensor to check the amount of visible and UV light near this showcase. I’m paying particular attention to this case because the Sami costume inside has been dyed with bright colours that are very vulnerable to fading in strong light.

This kind of hand-held sensor is really useful for doing spot checks where we’re concerned about the amount of light in a particular part of the gallery. We also use it a lot when adjusting the light levels for temporary exhibitions, or when doing periodic light audits throughout the gallery. Often, however, we need to monitor light levels over a longer period, and for that we use these:

Eltek lux meter



This grey box might look like a walkie-talkie, but it’s actually a datalogger/transmitter that’s part of our environmental monitoring system. There are several of these boxes in our galleries: most of them just collect information about temperature and humidity, but a few of them also measure light and UV levels (you can recognise them by the two white dots on the front). Every half hour they send this data wirelessly to a computer in the museum office, where the conservators can monitor it. (The transmitters send the information using UHF radio frequencies, so they’re actually not unlike walkie-talkies…)

light_eltek



The graph above shows a typical week’s data from a showcase where we are monitoring light and UV (click on the picture to see a bigger version). The green line shows the amount of visible light and the purple line shows the amount of UV – luckily, the graph shows that there is no UV at all, which means that the UV filters on the glass doors are working properly! The transmitter has picked up light between 9am and 4pm on the first five days (which is normal for this time of year) but no light at all on the last two days. That’s because those days (7 and 8 September) are a Sunday and Monday, when the Polar Museum is shut and the gallery lights are turned off. This particular showcase also has a blackout curtain over it outside the museum opening times, and I will write more in a future blog post about some of the methods we use to control light levels in different parts of the gallery.

Christina

 

The Andrée Expedition: A doomed experiment

Thursday, September 4th, 2014

Andree's Arctic balloon expedition 1897

S. A. Andrée and Knut Frænkel with the crashed balloon on the pack ice. The exposed film for this photograph and others from the failed 1897 expedition was recovered in 1930. Photographed by Nils Strindberg. SPRI  P: 48/28/1

‘Andree and Fraenkel stood looking at it, as if the first to arrive at the scene of a disaster or a remarkable anomaly, while Strindberg walked off on the ice and took photographs of it’.
from The Ice Balloon by Alec Wilkinson

In 1897, the race to reach the Geographic North Pole was still an open contest.  Several explorers before Andrée had tried and failed (including Peary, Franklin and Nansen), but none of them had made an attempt to get there in a hot air balloon.  Salomon August Andrée was inspired to see if he could sail over the top of the world after a conversation with fellow explorer A. E. Nordenskiöd in 1894, who was considering using a balloon to discover more about Antarctica.

making the balloon

Making the balloon

Andrée, already a keen aeronaut, secured funding and commissioned Henri Lachambre’s balloon workshop in Paris to manufacture a balloon strong enough for long flights from 600 pieces of fortified silk.  He recruited two young fellow Swedes to accompany him: photographer Nils Strindberg, to create a photographic aerial record of the arctic, and engineer Knut Fraenkel, to record the scientific observations of the expedition.

Andrée, Strindberg and Fraenkel set off in their balloon from Danes Island on July 11th 1897, after one failed attempt the previous summer.  Although blustery, the wind was far from favourable.  The balloon struggled from the start, dropping three of its four guide ropes; losing gas from several unvarnished seams and becoming frozen and waterlogged the further north the explorers drifted.  Sixty five hours and 295 miles after departure, the balloon was forced down onto pack ice.  The men had three sledges and a boat along with supplies for several weeks.  They camped on ice floes for over two months, shooting and eating polar bears, seals or ivory gulls when their rations ran out.

standing over a polar bear

Men standing over a polar bear. Knut Frænkel left, Nils Strindberg right

Pulling the boat

 

In September, they saw land for the first time since July and decided to move on to White Island to build themselves a sturdier camp for the winter, aiming to continue their journey in the Spring.  No one knows how the men died, but it would appear that they did so within days of reaching the island, as although they had gathered materials with which to build, they were never used and the sledges and boat were never unpacked.  The remains of the explorers were discovered by chance during a thaw in 1930 and from Andrée’s diary found in the camp, it was discerned that the three Swedish explorers never came any closer than 475 miles from the North Pole. Their remains were found by the crew of a whaling ship 33 years later, both the diary and the camera along with five rolls of exposed film, were found near their bodies.

funeral

The remains of the three explorers are brought straight from the ship through the center of Stockholm on October 5, 1930, beginning “one of the most solemn and grandiose manifestations of national mourning that has ever occurred in Sweden” (Sverker Sörlin).

The fate of the expedition was shrouded in mystery and its disappearance part of cultural lore in Sweden and to a certain extent elsewhere.  The explorers were actively sought for a couple of years and remained the subject of myth and rumor, with frequent international newspaper reports of possible theories.  An extensive archive of American newspaper reports from the first few years, 1896–99, titled “The Mystery of Andree”, shows a much richer media interest in the expedition after it disappeared than before. A great variety of fates are suggested for it, inspired by finds, or reported finds, of remnants of what might be a balloon basket, or great amounts of balloon silk, or by stories of men falling from the sky, or visions by psychics, all of which would typically locate the stranded balloon far from Danskøya and Svalbard.

The second half of the 19th century and early part of the 20th century has often been called the Heroic Age of polar exploration and this expedition, of manly daring and lands being conquered by technological ingenuity, appealed powerfully to the imagination of the age.

This photograph, taken from the Scott Polar Research Institute’s photographic libraries captures the moment that the balloon falls to earth on the fated expedition. Andrée was fastidious about documenting his attempt to reach the North Pole.  Not only did he keep a diary, but he also invited the talented young photographer, Nils Strindberg, to be the official expedition photographer.  Ninety three of the photographs were saved and are and many are on display at the Gränna museum in Sweden.

This photograph is part of our forthcoming exhibition The Thing Is … which will explore the many ways in which we consider and care for museum objects, how and why objects gain meaning and why we collect them and their accompanying stories. Pairing an object from each of the University of Cambridge Museums and the Botanic Gardens with an object taken from the reserve collections at the Polar Museum, The Thing Is … uses innovative touch screen technology to explore the relationships between each pair and invites the public to contribute to the curatorial process. The dialogue between the objects highlights the often surprising correspondences between things and audiences.

Kaddy 2

Kaddy Benyon is the The Polar Museum, Scott Polar Research Institute’s invited poet in residence funded by Arts Council England to research and write her second collection, Call Her Alaska, a contemporary re-imagining of The Snow Queen. Kaddy is a Granta New Poet and was highly commended in the Forward Prizes in 2013.

Born in 1973, she worked as a television scriptwriter for a number of years, penning over 70 episodes of Hollyoaks and Grange Hill, as well as three young adult novels.  After completing an MA in Creative Writing, Kaddy won the Crashaw Prize with the manuscript for her first collection of poetry, Milk Fever, (Salt Publishing, 2012).

Kaddy Benyon and Bridget Cusack