JS Battye Fellowship Speech October 2022
I would like to acknowledge the Noongar people who are the traditional custodians of the land on which we meet today.
I would like to acknowledge elders past present and emerging. I also pay my respect to the people of the northwest of Western Australia, in particular the Nyangumarda, on whose land I respectfully made some of this work. I acknowledge that sovereignty has never been ceded and that this is, was and forever will be Aboriginal land.
On 20 August 1922, S.S Charon left the Fremantle docks, with an international scientific delegation and their facilitators on board, with their sights set on 80 Mile Beach and Wallal Downs. The group arrived at the beach on the 30 August, disembarking into a swirling surf. Assisted by local Aboriginal people, the party set up camp a mile inland and began to prepare for an event that would occur less than a month later—on the 21st of September. The group was at Wallal to witness a solar eclipse, photograph starlight, and verify Einstein’s theory of general relativity.
In the same way that drawing lines between the stars can build an image of constellations, so too can stories found, or hidden, within the archive form a more comprehensive picture of our historical narratives. In this evening’s presentation, I will elaborate on why I was drawn to the 1922 solar eclipse expedition to Wallal while following the traces and evidence available in the Battye Library collection. My research has followed the expedition to Wallal through glimpses previously overlooked or not attended to in the great retellings of Einstein’s discovery. I will conclude the presentation with an overview of my photographic work inspired by the archive and this project.
The archive has always struggled to document ordinary lives. And yet, through drawing on the margins of these stories, we can better contextualise not only the role of the ‘great actors’ in a given narrative but the more complex background and the often-invisible figures who make it possible. It is then possible to create a more detailed and informed understanding not only of what happened and who was involved but the how and why it happened.
The image shown of the three women looking through a glass plate may seem unrelated to the eclipse but this image is responsible for guiding my research through the Battye archive where I discovered Wallal. It spoke to me on a number of levels and personally is one of my favourite photographic images I have ever seen.
Where I can I have included the catalogue number for the images. You’re welcome to take a photo of the screen at any time should you feel a similar attachment or wish to research it further. All images shown can be found in the online catalogue on the State Library website.
Within the Battye collection is a set of five photo albums, put together by Professor Alexander Ross from UWA and a member of the expedition. The images, taken by both Ross and photographer J.J. Dwyer, are a documentation of the journey to Wallal, the camp set up and the experiments that took place. My retelling of this event here will loosely follow these albums and can be considered as the official story of the expedition.
But I will also aim to widen the lens, so to speak, acknowledging the tension between what is most evident in the archive and what is simply gestured towards.
In addition to the archival material found in the Battye Library Collection, I also draw on records found in the following local and international collections.
The first of Ross’ albums starts our journey in Fremantle, on that clear day in August 1922. Reports about the Wallal expedition in the newspapers of the time remark that (quote): “As the ship began to move off… those ashore broke into cheering, which was echoed in turn by the people leaning on the rails aboard”. By the time the Charon was pulling away from the Port, media across Australia was informing the public about what this group of scientists were setting off to do.
So, what exactly were these intrepid explorers concerned with? Who were they, and why were they making the journey to Wallal? Before delving further into these stories let me provide some background to the motivation for the expedition.
Incredibly, this story traverses’ countries, time and space, as humans swapped horses for cars, the threat of war still hung in the atmosphere, air travel was gaining traction, and industrial giants were churning out goods at an increasingly rapid pace.
The astronomical legacy of ordering and understanding the universe brings us to the relationship between Albert Einstein, the theory of general relativity, and Wallal. The period leading up to the expedition is a time when astronomers, artists, writers, and physicians alike turned towards the sky and saw the sun differently.
Einstein’s theory of general relativity, which asserts that gravity is not an ordinary force but a property of space-time, entails, among others, the following question:
Does light bend by an observable degree when passing by a large mass?
To test his theory, Einstein needed help from the world’s astronomy community, and he needed a solar eclipse. A solar eclipse does not influence general relativity but allows us to test and observe the theory. During an eclipse, with only the sun’s corona visible, we can see if the stars are in their night-time position and can follow if they have been pulled into the sun’s gravitational arc.
The gravitational pull of the sun moves them closer to its surface.
In the day The stars breathe in.
At night they breathe out.
A solar eclipse allows us to see the stars in the daytime. To test the theory the same stars are photographed at night and then during the eclipse. The images are then compared to see if the stars have moved. In this case, the comparison plates were taken in Tahiti.
This theory caught the imaginations of the scientific and larger community because, for the first time in history, it would be possible to test accurately. Einstein was not the first to consider the deflection of light, but he was one of the first to bring it into the light after the invention of photography. Photography’s ability to produce evidence as proof allowed for the stars to be compared tangibly. Conditions otherwise hidden behind the blinding, blazing sunlight become visible during a total solar eclipse, providing scientists and astronomers with opportunities to study parts of the skies usually inaccessible to human vision during daytime.
There had been many attempts and failures before 1922 to capture the deflection of light. The Wallal expedition is widely regarded as the epitome of cooperation between astronomical institutions, national governments, and individual efforts.
This is evident in the coordinated journey up the Western Australian coast, stopping at Geraldton, Port Hedland—where they were joined by 670 curly-horned merino sheep—and finally Broome.
Arriving in Broome eight days after they left Fremantle, the Eversheds join the expedition. The party was now complete. This list in the UWA archives provides a comprehensive list of those on the trip but requires updating. Of note, Dr William Wallace Campbell of the Lick Observatory in California was considered the foremost solar eclipse photographer at the time, and his wife Elizabeth Campbell regularly joined him on his research trips.
At Broome, the team changed to the sailing schooner, the 'Gwendolen', towed by Governor Musgrave. Finally, nearly six months after astronomer Dr Robert Trumpler from the Lick Observatory had left for Tahiti to photograph the comparison plates needed for the eclipse, the delegation arrived in Wallal, putting down anchorage at sunrise on the 30th of August.
Wallal lay on the central line of the shadow path at the closest point to the coast. The location, almost 1500 kilometres from Perth (if you could travel in a direct line, which the expedition could not), consisted of a sheep station, a telegraph post, and no port; it promised clear skies and a long total eclipse. Despite all the apparent difficulties in transporting the group and over 30 tonnes of equipment, Wallal was a prime site for capturing the eclipse.
Documents note time and time again how desolate Wallal is but perhaps this is only relative to the work being undertaken and the perspective of those making such a claim.
However, the logistical issues were not a concern for the scientists themselves, only for those who had to facilitate their experiments. For those chasing an eclipse, the geographical location was barely a consideration. The ambition to capture that dazzled corona around the blackened disc of the sun is what drove them. The same motivation cannot be said for the Australian Government in the 1920s, which was perhaps so generous due to the newly federated country wishing to prove itself on the international stage. This was the first solar eclipse across the nation since colonisation, and it offered, according to Adelaide Observer, “the most precious opportunity since white man settled in Australia for the compilation of profound and far-reaching data”.
Though battling twenty-six-foot tides, they unloaded their cargo over three days. They then made the journey a mile inland, hauling the 35 tonnes of equipment with the assistance of the Nyangumarda residing at Wallal Downs Station.
To trace the Aboriginals who assisted the astronomers is beyond the scope of this research and deserves to be a stand-alone project. However, without their involvement the journey through the surf, sand, and dust would arguably have been impossible. Arduous and careful labour was involved in setting up the camp. Information recording the involvements of the Aboriginal people is limited, as is the case in most imperial archiving practices. Some members of the group are named in Ross’s albums. This type of data collection is incredibly important to archival collections as it allows for a reconnection of identity and family, a deeper understanding of our past, and a recognition of individual and collective efforts.
It is here that I would like to make a small break in the presentation and play a part in the film footage taken in 1922 by New Zealand filmmaker Ernest Brandon-Cremer and his Adelaide-born assistant Charles Sharpe. When watching the film, think about who is not shown, and consider where the lens is directed. This is a small segment available online as part of a much longer film.
What drew my attention while watching this particular edit is that it only depicts men doing the experiments. At the edge, each frame is more.
Various tasks were undertaken to prepare for eclipse day as we've just watched, but I can’t help but wonder what may have been served at Café Einstein.
Where meals were available around the clock and letter writing took place on Sundays
However, in the Battye collection, there is an emphasis on the building of the Einstein cameras. Towering 40 and 15ft these towers were nicknamed the Tower of Babel and the Heavenly Twins. The engineering of the Einstein cameras took priority. and they were considered the darlings of any astronomical fieldwork team. These images are credited to Dwyer.
While the images of the Wallal expedition in the Battye collection do have moments of the every day, they do focus on the big scientific moments, while images held by the Lick Observatory do offer a more textured and varied account of events. I wonder if this is because responsibility felt by Ross and Dwyer to do justice to this unique event and the science it profiled. Campbell and his team, so experienced in these events, perhaps felt more freedom in capturing the greater context.
There is a restraint felt in the images by Ross and Dwyer. There are multiple exposures of the same content, with only a slight variation in between images.
It is not until the party is leaving Wallal do they seem to relax in their captures, as shown here.
The reality of the location quickly sets in, with Campbell remarking that “the flies and the dust, having free access to all parts of the camp, brought their own crop of discomfort”, and thus the camp was dubbed “Dust Camp”. One of the greatest enemies of analogue photography and fine glass lenses is dust. A defining feature of the desert is dust. This issue caused havoc daily at Wallal in 1922. This was very precise work requiring a controlled environment that was being undertaken in an uncontrollable place. This was not a luxury trip but required people to know how to adapt to the land to make their project work.
The use of water for dust control is a well-known practice and one implemented by Aboriginal people at Wallal. Alongside this, on the ground surrounding the tents they laid coarse green branches from the wattle trees.
The plan for a Wallal darkroom became redundant once the reality of the dust and heat became apparent. The evening temperatures were too variable, with the high humidity preventing the drying of the plates. It is because of this that it soon became evident that the group would have to wait until reaching Broome to finish developing the plates when ice and secured shelter would be available.
What of the people on the expedition? Among the scientists and naval personnel was, as I’ve mentioned, Elizabeth Campbell, wife of William Campbell, of the Lick Observatory. Elizabeth Campbell’s memoir, held in California, though documented as being ‘immense’, has not, unfortunately, been digitised, so access to the detail of her role is limited, with very few choosing to focus their research on Elizabeth when discussing the great eclipse expeditions from this time. However, what has been written about her work QUOTE "in the shadow of the moon"' emphasises her role in facilitating the trips.
On the eclipse work, Elizabeth wrote in her memoir, "Preparation for observing a total eclipse is always hard work physically as well as mentally… It is doubtful if a man is ever called upon to endure a severer strain, mental or physical". Having good food and comfortable living conditions was essential, and, in her view, she was the one to facilitate this.
Chasing eclipses worldwide meant that homes had to be taken care of. Elizabeth’s own privilege is revealed as she also write that, "It is comparatively easy to find trustworthy, competent women to care for little children ... no one but me could go and look out for [ my husband] Wallace."
Can we simply ignore the transfer of women’s domestic labour from the home to the field? What is implied in so doing? I suggest it denies the importance of this work in both settings and its role in enabling scientific work to be carried out in the first place.
Bringing those whose contributions remain on the periphery into the centre of our understanding of significant scientific, and other advances in our knowledge of the world, only increases the value of the endeavours.
Elizabeth Campbell was married to one of the leading astronomers of the time, so it stands to reason that there is interest in her life. There were also four other women on this expedition. Eleanor Adams, Jean Chant, Elizabeth Chant and Mary Evershed, an astronomer in her own right and author of An Easy Guide to the Southern Stars. Their contributions are usually listed as an afternote or a footnote. Some of their roles include Elizabeth Chant making exposures with the two smaller cameras, Jean Chant making observations on the shadow bands, while Eleanor Adams assisting Dr. Adams with the 40-ft camera.
Despite all this, there are no photos are identifying one member, Elizabeth Chant. It would be quite easy to overlook that she was even there. She was the daughter of Clarence Chant, of the Canadian contingent. I believe this is a photo of her, found in the Lick Observatory archives.
The climax of event for the women, astronomers and those facilitating the expedition happens on the 21st of September. A day that brought with it perfect weather and observation conditions.
Jean Chant in her article ‘The Shadow Bands at the Australian Eclipse”, discusses her observations during totality but it is the moments of the landscape I wish to draw our attention to.
She says of her position, a little bit away from the main party, that she enjoyed her moment of isolation under the wattle trees, free from distraction. Six minutes before the eclipse she states that “The darkness was rapidly coming on and the landscape assumed a peculiar greenish hue, as if a storm approaching. The seconds went by and I felt rather nervous as this was my first experience of the kind.
Suddenly, and before I had expected it, the shimmering, elusive wave-like shadows began to sweep over me… I was awed and filled with wonder at the beautiful sight in the sky”
It is here I would like to signal a shift in the presentation; one that moves from historical research to photographic practice. My role as a researcher and practitioner aims to engage critically with the archive and to bring to light overlooked aspects of the Wallal stories. The 100-year anniversary of this expedition took place just over a month ago; the reason this talk did not happen on the date is that I was at Wallal undertaking fieldwork of my own. Just as the Perth Observatory did 100 years ago, I too stayed at the Wallal Downs Homestead.
While there I considered the landscape, taking notice of the terrain and perspective of those that landed on the eighty-mile beach 100 years ago. Was it the colonial fantasy of venturing into the supposed unknown that made the location synonymous with words like isolated and desolate? As I looked through the archival images of this event concerned with the sky, it was the land that I kept coming back to. This leads me to wonder whether, as we observe the heavens, full of questions, perhaps the answers are at our feet.
I have enjoyed reading the accounts of the landscape, of the dust, spinifex and wattles, the most. Thinking about what it means to collect and archive I am playing with the idea of archiving the land. I collected items from nature at Wallal Downs Station and digitally scanned them on film negative settings. I then returned these items to where I found them.
In addition of this I am creating a constellation of history; following the 1922 expedition through traces and locations that still remain.
There is the Calver telescope built for the 1910 apparition of Halley’s Comet, still in use at the Perth Observatory, which made the journey up the West Coast to Wallal. The same stars, though in a different position, can still be seen as they were one hundred years ago.
There is Wallal Downs Station itself. in 1922 there was talk of Einstein joining the expedition that took place on Christmas Island. He did not make it but he has now made it to Wallal, thanks to those of the Warragine Cattle Co. owners of Wallal, with this monument constructed in his honour and the landmark achievement that took place there.
A remnant of the original plaque to commemorate the achievement exists in the archive, but the original was swept away by a cyclone in 2009.
The dust at Wallal caused havoc for the development of the glass plates, but they were eventually developed at the Broome Coastal Radio Station. This building now is the Broome Bowling Club and the room where the photographs were developed is the bathroom block.
There is the material archive as well. The place where the history resides and can still be revisited. My research was initially in the Battye digital catalogue but the Fellowship has given me the opportunity to interact with the physical objects.
There is much more to this work but due to the limitations of time, I will move.
The Ross Alexander albums, shown at the beginning of this presentation. have been a source of inspiration from the beginning for me. This experimentation with the source material is still ongoing as part of my greater PhD research, set to be completed in 2024. With this, I am thinking about ideas on how we access and interact with the archive and the context of the history that the material is placed in. Asking questions like: what happens when we remove moments from the photo, is the meaning still the same? I created these by casting the online archive onto the TV and then photographing them with a Hasselblad, which is a film camera.
This lecture is given through the aid of the JS Battye Fellowship, so it seems apt to acknowledge that in June 1922, Dr Battye himself introduced a speech given by Professor Ross at the Perth Library Institute entitled “Einstein, and Modern Ideas of Time and Space”.
This research is still ongoing. The one-hundred-year anniversary may have come and gone but my interest and involvement with this event continues. The Battye Fellowship has allowed me to interact with the physical object of the archive, allowing for a deeper understanding of presence and priority. I would like to thank those within the State Library who have assisted over the course of the fellowship, in particular John Hughes, Kate Gregory, and Peter Edwards. I would also like to acknowledge Rob Jowett, of Warragine Cattle Co. and Ken and Megan at Wallal Downs Station for welcoming me with open arms and the whole of the Perth Observatory for their ongoing assistance and enthusiasm for this project. I would also like to thank my North Stars, Anne Surma and Josephine Wilson for their endless guidance.
There is so much to be drawn out of this historical event. I have only scratched the surface.
This is just another version, not an alternative, just one story that provides a different understanding of this eclipse. We know now that the photographic plates taken during the Wallal expedition’s capture of the total eclipse verified Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity, a theory still being tested and proven even in 2022. As the eclipse chasers battled the swirling surf, trying to get their equipment back on the ships to make the journey home to discover the outcome of what they had just done, I wonder what they each thought about the small strip of desert they had called home for the last month? Did it leave a mark, or was it just a tiny, inconsequential moment in their quest for knowledge?