Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Collectible Antique Scientific and Quack Medical Devices

Six years ago, I researched and cataloged a collection of antique scientific and quack medical devices for Dirk Soulis Auctions, gathered over a span of thirty years by biology professor Dr. Leland Keller (no relation). Dr. Keller used many of these pieces to illustrate lectures on obsolete or quack medical treatments.

In all my years of working as a researcher and writer for auction houses specializing in historical artifacts, this sale remains one of my favorites. Featured here are views of the items laid out for auction, as well as shots from the catalog. I've included a link to the full online catalog at the end.








Victor diathermy, circa 1900. Incomplete.

Dr. Albert Abrams' Radionics Reflexophone, circa 1920s

Circa 1886 enbalming table by B.F. Gleason

Toepler-Holtz type electromagnetic electrostatic generator, by Frank S. Betz

Betz electrotherapy wall unit

Betz oak and iron physician's chair

Mid-19th century magneto-electric machine: A good example of an antique medical electric machine. Standard explanation pasted inside lid. Self-contained dovetailed construction housing with under drawer sliding out on the right side. Includes multiple accessories, electrodes with what appear to be ebony grips, key pin, etc.

Autoclast electrotherapy device: Large size autoclast made by the Electronic Instrument Co of Belleville, Kansas. Hinged top folds back to reveal controls and wire port. Center drawer accessible from front, with secondary control row of intensity controls, as well as several physician kept books and manuals. One published by the Calbro Magnowave Co of Omaha, which gives the general technic of identifying diseased conditions, measuring their intensities and determining their treatment. Filled with interesting misspellings, too. Discusses 'Personal Destructive Rate', Diagnostic Routine, and profiles a large number of diseases the autoclast may address. Even includes a definition of radionics: 'Radionics is the science of detecting and treating disease by the action upon magnetic waves produced by the radiation of ions.' Includes a partially filled-in case record. Also includes two smaller binders indexed to provide vibration rates of diseases. The prognosis section for 'Fistula' seems to sum up this area of quackery perfectly: 'Prognosis: Excellent to poor, depending on the intensity.' Also includes the doctor's window placard 'ALL WORK CASH - Unless Previously Arranged For.' 

19th century blood cupping pump

Original General Electric Coolidge tube with 'Broad Focus' tag affixed, 21.5 inches long, undated. Mounted on wooden framework, adjustable clamps, square opening in baseboard for projecting X-rays. 

A quack medical 'Rational' Electronoclast, 'Based on the Electronic Reactions of Abrams, American Institute of Rational Therapeutics, Chicago, Ill.' Rich wood case with slant front, potential prongs, rate adjuster knobs, oscillion tube, polarometer and positive and negative poles. 

Folmer Multiple Camera and Studio Stand: Great original Folmer Multiple Camera by Folmer Graflex Corp., with spec plate mounted to front. Lens intact, marked 'No 2 Hemispherique Rapide, AD 5660, Darlols, Paris, BF&Co.,' and includes black cloth and rubber hose for remote. Measures 18 x 24 x 11 inches. On a Folmer Graflex 'Century Studio Stand, No 3A.'

19th century C. Eckenrath Graphoscope: Carved and black painted wood face, large magnifier lens, two stereoscopic lenses bleow. Folding table base with C. Eckenrath, Berlin spec plate to leg. Folding picture holder with polished bone finials. 

Circa 1900 clamshell mutoscope

McIntosh Quack Galvanic and Faradic wall unit

Pathoclast control unit: A member of the medical radionics tradition, began by noted quack Dr Albert Abrams. Two gauges, four large dials for Aqua Potentia, Diagnostic Panel, the Disease Dial, and Pathodyne Diagnostic Unit, plus toggle switches, smaller switches, and a storage compartment on the right side. 

McIntosh Polysine Generator 1158: An original polysine generator designed to deliver efficient galvanic and low voltage wave currents for nerve and muscular regeneration. Unit features white porcelain top with voltage and modality selector knobs, channel toggle switch, posts, on/off master toggle, polysine generator control knob, and milliampere dial. Rolling stand features four drawers with a variety of accessories, including a rectal electrode, pad electrode, numerous glass electrodes. Includes what appears to be the original instructions for operation, with explanations of galvanic currents and waves.

Coin operated shock machine: Advance Machine Company's novelty arcade coin-operated machine that for one cent, says on the marquee it 'increases the circulation, purifies the blood, improves the health.' Right knob apparently controlled the amount of current.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Still Playing With Dalis: Surreal Scholarship

Works by Salvador Dali (1904-1989) - one of the 20th century’s most famous and controversial surrealist artists, can be a rather challenging project for an art appraiser. And I mean challenging in the sense that educating your client about the chaotic background created by Dali’s eccentric personality and habits which might impact the authenticity of their particular work.

In 2016, Editions D’Art Les Heuers Claires published Dali Illustrator by Eduard Fornés. It is an exhaustive work that traces the career of Dali, and emphasizes three of his most striking projects, “Les Chants de Maldoror,” The Divine Comedy,” and “The Sacra Biblia.” The publisher kindly sent a copy to me out of the blue, and I found it more than interesting enough to review.

An art appraiser I find it valuable, not least for its excellent photographic survey of original handwritten Dali signatures, comparative illustrations, and detailed list of works. For an artist who once stated his object was “to rescue painting from the void of modern art,” it was both puzzling and self-destructive for him to have signed sheets of blank paper that would later be used to print editions of his work, an aspect confronted by Fornés, who correctly points out that certain other artists of the period were doing the same.

The book begins with an excellent overview of Dali’s life and eccentricities, and to its credit, delves into his talents in generally underappreciated areas and medias, and therefore finally begins to fill the gap in scholarship regarding his career as an illustrator. To that end, it is a pleasant and welcome addition to the reference library of any art appraiser, academician, researcher, gallery, auction house, or collector.

The project was spearheaded by Dali friend and expert, Eduard Fornés, and includes various scholarly essays by other noted Dali experts like Paul J. Karlstrom, Dr. A. Reynolds Morse, as well as expert opinions by Robert K. Wittman and Alfredo Ghio.

Naturally, Fornés’ contribution is the largest, spanning from how he met Dali to subjects as varied as the Gold Medal, Dali and his ‘secret life,’ exhibitions, Dali’s own books, graphic catalogues, and more.

Great care was put into establishing the authority of the experts, Robert Wittman and Alfredo Ghio, in authenticating the signatures by Dali on the works from “The Divine Comedy” and “Sacred Bible,” going as far as official statements from the men, as well as reproductions of their CVs.

Criticism

The reproductions of the illustrations are generally very good, though at times verge on being too small for Dali’s level of detail. This is most noticeable in the six-per-page views of “Les Chants de Maldoror.”

Interestingly, I recently showed Dali Illustrator to an Italian colleague and amateur Dante scholar, Dr. Virio Stipa, who was confused by the book’s presentation of “The Divine Comedy’s” canons 16 and 17. To him, canon 16, The Climb of Geryon (La montée de Géryon) in the book actually appears to be the arms of Antaeus.

Further research revealed the paper, Are Dali’s Illustrations of Dante’s Comedy Reflective of the Poem’s Contexts? by the late professor Dr. Wolfgang Everling (d. 2016) of the University of Bonn, identifies canon 16 as Antaeus. Similarly, canon 17, Usurers (Les usuriers) in the book, is listed as Geryon Descending by Everling.

I’m not sure where the titles of the individual works in the book originated, but whatever the truth, ultimately this oddity is for specialists and does not, I think, even begin to undermine the value of the book.

Fornés, Eduard. Dalí illustrator. Paris: Les Heures Claires, 2016. Print. ISBN 2-911386-20-5

References:
Wolfgang Everling: ARE DALÍ'S ILLUSTRATIONS OF DANTE'S COMEDY REFLECTIVE OF THE POEM'S CONTEXTS?

Posted: 8th December 1999, updated 10th August and 25th September 2000.

Monday, January 16, 2017

NIST Stations WWV, WWVH, WWVB and "The Empire Strikes Back"

Being a nostalgic soul, and one that still owns his old Candle shortwave radio, inherited from an aunt, I like to set time on my watches and library clock to the shortwave radio station WWV, an atomic clock-driven time interval broadcasting station operated by the National Institute of Standards and Technology, formerly the National Bureau of Standards. 

There's really no reason for me to set my watches freehand to their coordinated universal time announcements other than I've had this habit for over 37 years, much like my habit of buying an Old Farmer's Almanac every September when the next year's issue is released. 


The Fort Collins, Colorado-based station was always a fascination for me, being an amateur astronomer and so tied closely to time, but official information was a little difficult to come by for teenage kids in the pre-Internet days. When I finally got online in the late 1990's, I searched up basic information on the stations. 

Then one day in the early 2000's when I was working for Manion's International Auction House, a lot turned up with a copy of the NBS Special Publication 432, published by the U.S. Department of Commerce and National Bureau of Standards, called NBS Time & Frequency, Dissemination Services, dated September 1979 - the era I discovered the stations. I still have a copy.

The booklet gives a fantastic rundown of the history of the stations and the technical specifications of their signals.

WWV dates back to 1923 and can be clearly heard throughout the 48 contiguous states. It has two sister stations, WWVB, also located in Fort Collins, and WWVH in Kauai, Hawaii. The stations serve many industries from public to private. Their mission is to broadcast time announcements, standard time intervals, standard frequencies, geophysical alerts, solar-terrestrial indices, marine storm warnings, Omega Navigation System status reports (discontinued in 1997 with the advent of GPS), UT1 time corrections, and BCD time code (binary-coded decimals).

WWV and WWVH can still be heard at 2.5, 5, 10, and 15 MHz, with WWV additionally being heard at 20 MHz. WWVB broadcasts at 60 MHz.


Depending on atmospheric disturbances and other natural phenomena, the signal might not be heard at a given frequency during certain times of day. Generally, frequencies above 10MHz are best for daytime listening, while lower frequencies are stronger at night. 

Owing to our proximity to WWV compared to WWVH's Hawaii transmitter, I usually only heard WWVH late at night, and faintly at that, which nonetheless was thrilling to a kid coming to understand the true size of the world. There is a distinct difference in their tones as well as the fact a female voice announced the time as compared to WWV's male voice. The male voice I was listening to on WWV in 1979-1980 is still there, marking time even as I write this. I've not heard WWVH over the air lately, but I have called the number below, and she's still there.

WWV and WWVH still have a telephone service by which you can hear the broadcasts, (303) 499-7111 for WWV (Colorado), and (808) 335-4363 for WWVH (Hawaii), though I've noticed the telephone signal is approximately half a second behind the shortwave signals.


As a young astronomer, I listened to these stations often during observing sessions, especially when timing was a vital part of the observation, such as during eclipses and occultations. Beyond that, there was something fascinating to a kid about listening to a broadcast from so far away. I became very familiar with Cold War-era shortwave, including the Soviet Union's famous 'woodpecker.' I'll get to that eventually.

So anyway, I came to know the differences in tones and pulses between the stations, especially one particular aspect of WWVH between 30-36 seconds of every minute when there wasn't a constant tone behind the pulses. In place of ticking pulses, there was a curious squelched, almost squealing tone. I always found it intriguing, so imagine my shock and awe when I went to see The Empire Strikes Back in 1980 and heard the tone during the Battle of Hoth scene. You can hear it clearly between 2:16-2:20 of this clip:



Websites:
WWV: https://www.nist.gov/pml/time-and-frequency-division/radio-stations/wwv
WWVH: http://tf.nist.gov/stations/wwvh.htm
WWVB: https://www.nist.gov/pml/time-and-frequency-division/radio-stations/wwvb

Monday, January 9, 2017

In Brief: Criterion Collection's "Island of Lost Souls" DVD

Image courtesy of Criterion Collection
What is the Law? Law No More!

There are a couple of ways I watch Erle Kenton’s 1932 Island of Lost Souls film classic. One, which is the most successful, is as a snapshot of the evolution and state of expressionist cinema just five years after the first talkie.

The other is with an eye on its treatment of the source material, H.G. Wells's 1896 novel, The Island of Dr. Moreau. Unfortunately in this respect, the film misses the mark. Instead of vivisection being the painful centerpiece, this Dr. Moreau is a genetics specialist - though the scalpel certainly still plays a painful role.

Overshadowing even Bela Lugosi, though, is Charles Laughton's great portrayal of Dr. Moreau - a character motivated as much by the ‘question he was pursuing’ as Wells’s own Dr. Moreau. Laughton’s immaculate costume and general delivery makes him exceedingly creepy.

Image courtesy of Criterion Collection
Unfortunately, the screenplay feels rushed and the acting overly dramatic, probably due to the film’s proximity to the silent era.

Some of these same criticisms may be leveled at Wells’ own effort, Things to Come, produced just four years later in 1936. But where Things to Come suffered from excessive preachiness, courtesy of H.G. Wells himself, the continuity of Island of Lost Souls ultimately suffers from a lack of original context.

Still, considering Wells once described the original novel as “an exercise in youthful blasphemy,” this film managed to live up to that idea in some ways. Initially banned in 12 countries, including England, its appearance elsewhere during the Great Depression was likely to have been an edited one.

Image courtesy of Criterion Collection
Released in 2011, the DVD's new digital restoration clocks in at 70 minutes, with a 1.33:1 aspect ratio. The booklet features an excellent essay by Christine Smallwood, audio commentary with film historian Gregory Monk, and a conversation about the film between filmmaker John Landis (Twilight Zone: The Movie, 1983), Oscar-winning makeup artist Rick Baker (Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope, 1977), and genre expert Bob Burns.

Perhaps most interesting, however, are the interview segments with horror film historian David J. Skal, and particularly with filmmaker Richard Stanley, prime mover and the original director for the ill-fated 1996 adaptation of The Island of Dr. Moreau with Marlon Brando, Val Kilmer, Ron Pearlman and David Thewes, a film that is generally regarded as one of the very worst in cinema history.

Image courtesy of Criterion Collection
Just months before acquiring my copy of Island of Lost Souls from my friends at Criterion, Netflix featured a 2014 documentary, Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley’s Island of Dr. Moreau. It was clear from this documentary that Stanley, despite harboring a deep love for Wells’s original story, was also going to make a thoroughly modernized and terribly kitschy film.

I had not been aware of the chain of bad executive decisions at New Line Cinema, the war of egos between actors and directors alike, endless production delays, and final degeneration of the entire production into utter chaos and depravity. I think it makes the movie watchable today – provided you keep in mind the reality of the production’s chaos. And of course you have to forgive Marlon Brando wearing an ice bucket on his head. Lord. 

Beyond this, the DVD features also examine the film’s general influence on other films and greater pop culture through the intervening decades, culminating in an interview with Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo, where he outlines the impact of the film on his famous New Wave rock band. Going further, the DVD even includes a short 1976 film by Devo, featuring the songs “Secret Agent Man” and “Jocko Homo.”

Are we not men? Indeed.

https://www.criterion.com/films/27861-island-of-lost-souls?q=autocomplete





Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Art Deco, Streamline Moderne, and Kansas City's Municipal Auditorium

My wife won a 'flash contest' on Facebook yesterday (meaning you had to pick up your winnings within a couple of hours of notification) for UMKC men's basketball tickets that evening. I'm not a basketball fan, but the game was played at Kansas City's Municipal Auditorium, which happens to be one of my favorite buildings in the city, so I was glad to go.

After watching a few minutes of the game, I decided to take advantage of the sparse crowd to wander the vacant halls and foyers in pursuit of the ghosts of the past.

The arena complex, known here generally as 'Municipal,' includes four separate venues: Municipal Auditorium, Music Hall, Exhibition Hall, and The Little Theater, and was built in 1934 to replace the city's old convention center.

The architecture is a unique mix of Art Deco, an international arts and architectural movement that began in the early 1900's and eventually came to dominate the 1920's and 1930's, along with heavy influence from the Streamline Moderne movement - typified by glass bricks and portal windows, and itself a style that emerged during the Depression years when Art Deco was increasingly being stripped of its sophisticated and exuberant ornamentation in favor of sleek, aerodynamic lines and curves that suggested a faith in the future.


My earliest memories of the auditorium go back to the early 1970's. The complex was renovated in 2007 and 2013, but I'm happy to say the spirit of the original building I remember has largely been retained.

So, here are my images. Of course they're not nearly as nice as those presented by the Kansas City Convention Center's own website, but I offer mine here for fun.