Artist of the Week: Henry Dalton

Another gem from the Museum of Jurassic Technology [This is the last one, I swear!], Henry Dalton's (1829-1911) micromosaics were also on view in one of the darkened galleries. Visible only through the peephole of a microscope, his tiny collages are made entirely from dried algae and the scales of butterfly wings. That's right, not even glue is holding these beauties together.  

When I first saw the work I thought they were intricately inlaid stones, which would have been impressive enough. But after discovering they were actually made from butterfly wings—and scales of wings, at that—I was bowled over by his use of the material. THEN I read about his painstakingly precise process on the museum's website, and my brain was totally blown:


"The microscopic creations of Henry Dalton were the fruit of extraordinary skill, remarkable patience and a keen aesthetic eye. After devising a design, Dalton would collect numerous butterfly wings of multiple species from all over the world. Carefully striping off individual scales with a needle, each scale was then sorted by color, size, and shape creating a extensive palette. Boar bristle in hand, Dalton would then transfer each scale to the slide. Positioning a scale was a laborious task, one that required the use of a microscope and a small tube through which he would breathe to gently move each scale over the glass to its appointed position. Once in place, Dalton would crush a small tiny spot of the scale against the slide, allowing internal oils to act as a natural adhesive. Many of Dalton's remarkable micromosaic preparations would require as many as one thousand individual scales."


Wow. 



- Cathleen 

Wives Tales

Another curious exhibit at the Museum of Jurassic Technology was on folk remedies and superstitions, the glass-enclosed displays for which held various vignettes illustrating the "vulgar knowledge" that was prescribed way back when to cure whatever it was that ailed ya.

For instance, mouse cures were apparently some of the oldest beliefs featured in the exhibition wherein mice are caught and prepared for a wide array of health concerns from whooping cough to chilblains (frostbite). It was thought that bed wetting could be controlled by eating mice on toast, fur and all (above). Another delicacy in the same display case called Mouse Pie was thought to straighten out children who stammered if eaten on a regular basis.

A case labeled Salted Teeth described the practice of covering extracted teeth in salt, then burning them to ward against an animal finding and chewing them and in so doing, turning whatever new tooth that grew in the child's mouth into a tooth that looked liked the animal's that found it. Quite a mouthful.

Apparently if a child had thrush they could put the bill of a duck or goose in their mouth and inhale their cold breath, correcting whatever mouth fungus or throat disorder that may have plagued them. I couldn't imagine finding a duck that would sit still long enough to let you put its bill in your mouth. Or a child for that matter.

Some of the displays offered warnings rather than health advice. The one above contained two disembodied wax hands clasped around a little bird to illustrate the knowledge that holding a dying creature during childhood would leave the offender with trembling hands for life. 

There were a few other interesting displays in the exhibition, but as you can see, it was so dimly lit in there that I couldn't get too many clear photos. It did help add to the unsettling atmosphere of the place though, which of course made it one of the best things I'd seen that week. I can't imagine a better treat than dead, stuffed mice spread on toast.

- Cathleen

The Museum of Jurassic Technology

Just got back from celebrating Thanksgiving in L.A. with Micky and friends. It was an amazing looong weekend spending time with some very fun funny people, touring a beautiful sunny city I’d never seen before. The summer after I graduated from college I had planned an epic drive cross-country with an impractically long list of odd Americana destinations (The World’s Largest Ball of Twine was definitely a highlight) I wanted to visit along the way. The Museum of Jurassic Technology had always been at the top of my agenda, but sadly, once we finally reached the West Coast we were running short on time and had to bypass the city entirely. Sigh. But this time—THIS time I was not going to let this strange little museum get away from me!

I’d read a fascinating little book about the museum a few years back called Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology by Lawrence Weschler, so I was eagerly expecting to see all of the items enumerated in the title and then some. Once inside the museum’s dim, dark warren of galleries, I was elated to discover that there was indeed oh so much more. There was a whole room devoted to oil portraits of the dogs from the Soviet Space Program, and another full of trailer park dioramas, and still another with exquisite micromosaics visible only through the narrow lens of a microscope. I may end up splitting this into a few posts so I can do the collection justice, but for now I’ll start with what I came for: the human horn.

Mounted and hung on a wall with other animal horns on display, the human horn was dark, hairy, and wonderfully repulsive.

Here’s the museum placard:

Ok, so I guess we are being led to believe that this isn’t the ACTUAL human horn from the description. 1688? It would probably be a pile of dust by now, unless they had gone to extraordinary lengths to try and preserve it. Maybe it’s just a model of the real thing. Either way, I’ll take it. 

While I do love specimens and oddities of all sorts, it is Mary Davis' story that really captivated me when I did further research. Horns and hair and hooves are all made of the same keratin protein, so it’s not totally out of the realm of possibility that one could grow on a person’s head. That I can wrap my mind around. But apparently, Mary Davis eventually had it removed only to have it grow back again a few years later. Then when she had that one removed, it happened again. Shudder to think.

I'm sure there's a cornucopia/horn of plenty joke in there somewhere. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving!

- Cathleen