Working with fossils, it’s not difficult to think that science is often stranger than fiction.
Wesleyan’s new star – our Glyptodon – is something that defies our every expectation of an armadillo. With her domed carapace, exquisite scutes and odd bone projections on her cheeks, she looks like a creature from a science fiction film.
Another odd piece that we recently plucked out of the Penthouse of Exley was another odd customer. With short proboscis – trunk-like structures like that of an elephant, and an unusual, downward curving pair of tusks, she was quite an odd sight.
This creature has a rather unfortunate name. She was called “terrible beast”, derived from the Ancient Greek, deinos meaning “terrible” and therion meaning “beast”. She was a Deinotherium, a giant extinct elephant relative that lived from the middle Miocene (about 12 million years ago) to the middle Pliocene (about 3 million years ago). There is no consensus, even today, as to how these beasts used their peculiar-looking tusks that apparently serve no apparent purpose apart from prodding themselves when they nod their heads.
Nevertheless, this creature is by no means the oddest thing the fossil record has in stock. Evolution is a large series of experiments in nature where many body plans have been put to test. TheBurgess Shale collection at Wesleyan holds some of the legendary and mind-blowingly strange fossils from the middle Cambrian, about 550 million years ago. Stranger things lurk on Level 4 of Exley in the Joe Webb Peoples Museum of Natural History awaiting your discovery.
After the summer, this grand Deinotherium will join the Glyptodon on the museum’s developing series of exhibits around campus. Leave a comment and tell us where you would like to see this animal on campus!
Cover photo: Deinotherium teeth detail showing premolars used for crunching. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan ’21.
After almost a year of collaborative efforts, our Glyptodon, a copy of an original in a museum in Dijon, France, is finally in her place. Come gaze at her gorgeous scutes and adoring smile – it’s there, look carefully. Her favorite spot outside the Science Library, in the lobby of Exley, is decorated with pebbles that resemble those in the bed of the River Lujan, by which she was found in 1846. The screen next to her will tell you about her tumultuous journey from being hunted, to being neglected to finally being loved by all at Wesleyan.
The biological sex of our Glyptodon cannot be determined from the skeletal remains. In honor of the many hidden women figures in the sciences, and in a tribute to a tradition practised by Sir David Attenborough, we assume that our Glyptodon was female.
We are very heartened that our hard work has been appreciated by the community in many ways. Here are some rather comical, but nonetheless appreciated reactions to our GlypGlyp.
If you are wondering, there is so much more in the Wesleyan storage places from where Glyptodon came: she is a mere tip in the sea of icebergs in our collections. The Joe Webb Peoples Museum of Natural History collections on Level 4 of Exley holds over 100,000 fossils, minerals and meteorites. Many of these are world-class specimens that are held by few other institutions in the world. Come feast your eyes on some of nature’s most elusive treasures.
Don’t forget to propose a name for our Glyptodon so that we know what to call her when we walk by.
A shout out to everyone who brought the exhibition to fruition. Dr Ellen Thomas and Dr Ann C. Burke, for their mentorship and expert insight. Bruce Strickland, our Glyptodon Engineer, for mounting the pieces together and advising on restoration. James Zareski, for building her a marvellous pedestal like the one on which she used to stand 60 years ago. Joel Labella, for advice and enthusiastic help in restoration. And in a flourish of self-praise, Master Glyptodoners, Yu Kai Tan and Andy Tan restored the cast to its former glory.
Cover Photo: Frontal portrait detail of Glyptodon skull. Photo courtesy of Olivia Drake.
Would you like to snorkel with giant predator reptiles the size of a small airplane?
Visit Level 3 of Exley Science Centre, where these spectacular beasts adorn our walls. And fear not, they are models, and the originals from which they are made have been petrified in stone for more than 100 million years.
These fossil casts of animals which many children grew up knowing as Plesiosaurus and Ichthyosaurus have been plucked out of the obscurity of storage in the penthouse of Exley, where they had been collecting dust and mildew since 1957. Restoration efforts have brought these creatures back to their ferocious selves.
Once apex predators of the Mesozoic – the Age of the Dinosaurs – they have often been misrepresented as swimming dinosaurs. Ichthyosaurs were powerful swimmers that dived to great depths, their eyes protected from the high water pressure by bony shields. Plesiosaurs have such bizarrely long necks that their discoverer, a village girl named Mary Anning, was at some time accused by Georges Cuvier of fabricating a fossil by combining disparate body parts.
European scientists from colonial times are notorious for assuming the property of the conquered as theirs. Many of the world’s best fossils reside in institutions in Paris and London. In the 1800s, American professor Henry A. Ward decided that paleontologists in the US deserve to study the best fossils in the world without having to travel across the Atlantic, a long and expensive trip, and suffer bouts of seasickness. Apparently, rock folks weren’t that good with the choppy waters. He traveled to Europe and made copies of some of the most celebrated fossils of his time, and sold them to institutions in the United States.
The World’s Columbian Exhibition of 1893 in Chicago showed a full series of these marvellously rendered casts, which were later showed as featured exhibits in the Field Museum. Wesleyan acquired a full series of these casts for its Natural History Museum in 1871 as a donation from Orange Judd. When the museum closed in 1957, they were crated and tossed unceremoniously into tunnels and penthouses around campus, where they remained for 60 years, until they were recently brought into the daylight once more.
Cover photo: Spinal processes of Rhomaleosaurus macrocephalus. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan’21.
Our star Glyptodon is getting a new coat of paint after we stripped her of a large quantity of 60 year-old dust, with plenty of elbow grease. As with the other Ward Casts in our collection, she will be repainted with archival artist acrylic paints. The color of our Glyptodon is rather bleached from the harsh lighting during its days in the Wesleyan Museum (1871-1957). Archive photos from Special Collections and Archives at Olin Library at Wesleyan University, and photos of the same cast on public display in the Manitoba Museum show that she once sported a shinier and darker coat.
The sex of our Glyptodon cannot be determined from the material we have on hand. Hence according to a fairly recent tradition in assigning sex to these undetermined specimens in major museums and documentary productions, we are assuming that she was female when she lived. #davidattenborough
A chunk of missing plaster was taken out of the right side of the creature, at some time during its long storage. We filled the shallow hole with Plaster of Paris and hand-sanded it to match the contour of the dome carapace. With a traditional Chinese stone seal carving knife, we carved the scutes (bony plates or osteoderms) on the Glyptodon into the newly filled plaster. Some artistic license went into the reconstruction of the damaged part, which we adjusted to the surrounding area, as our research of Glyptodon scutesdid not yield information pertinent to their restoration. However, each species of Glyptodon had its own unique pattern of scutes.
To match the color of the original cast, we performed a spot test on and around the plaster fill. This spot was chosen in part because we were excited and a tad anxious to see how the restoration would turn out. Using an old worn-out brush with stiff bristles to stipple various shades of browns and darks over an undercoat of yellow ochre, we painted in the plaster restoration. It turned out rather satisfactory, with the color not distinguishable from the surrounding areas.
Many more tubs of paint away from completion, the results are looking encouraging. In the mean time, we are also working on restoring a cast of the holoytype of Mosasaurus hoffmanni, a source of political drama and contention between European governments. But more about that next time. – or see here for a first start of the saga of the mosasaur Our cast of this fossil was in a tremendously lamentable state when we found it in the penthouse of Exley. #déjàvu
Large pieces of plaster were missing, including a broken tooth and a missing piece from the broken mandible the size of a tortilla chip. We have since sculpted the missing parts in plaster, which happens to be a notoriously challenging medium to work in. Once prepared, the plaster is workable for only 15 minutes before it cures, and it has a creamy consistency akin to that of mashed potatoes. Once the plaster cures, it is slowly hand-sanded to shape and painted with a matching colour mix.
The careful reconstruction of these fossil casts play a significant part in reconstructing the history of paleontology. When fossil hunting was a trending field of study in Europe in the late 1800s, fossil specimens were found all over Europe in large numbers, with paleontologists in the US catching up in the late 1800s, specifically with the construction of railroads into the US west. In the 1860s, a visionary in the field, Henry A. Ward, an American geologist and naturalist and professor at Rochester University (and the founder of the present Ward’s Science company) , felt that the US public missed out on the opportunity to see the most famous fossils, and made an effort to provide access for scholars in the US to important fossil material: in 1866 he published his Catalogue of Casts of Fossils from the Principal Museums of Europe and America. His ambition and foresight laid the foundation for a generation of American paleontological work and public awareness on evolutionary theory based on these materials. Orange Judd provided funding to buy the complete series of casts when the Orange Judd Hall was finished in 1871, including the Giant Ground Sloth, Megatherium cuvieri, and Plesiosaurus cramptoni, 22 ft long; sadly, these two giant casts have been lost at the dissolution of the Wesleyan Museum.
Cover photo: Glyptodon carapace detail prior to repainting from the Joe Webb Peoples Museum collection at Wesleyan University. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan ’21.
Waking from a 60 year-old torpor, our Glyptodon no longer remembers her name. Nevertheless, she would love to hear you call her each time you walk by, so do come up with an exciting name that she will love! The contestant who nominated the chosen name will win a genuine fossil from Wesleyan’s 190 year-old natural history collection. CLICK HERE TO JOIN THE CONTEST! More information below.
SCAN THE CODE BELOW TO JOIN!
The biological sex of our Glyptodon cannot be determined by looking at her remains. In honour of the hidden women figures in science (and a tradition practised by Sir David Attenborough), we will assume that our Glyptodon was female.
We are looking for a name that reflects her natural history, archaeological interest, and unique identity as a Wesleyan resident, in addition to any other important and fun aspects you may think of. Get creative!
The nomination processwill be online until 2359 hours on April 8th, 2018. A committee consisting of 5 members of faculty, students and staff will then shortlist a number of appropriate entries for voting. The shortlisting process is anonymous.
A public vote will be run from the 11th through 25th, of April 2018, and will be accessible with the same QR code. Keep an eye out for it and get your friends to vote for your proposed name!
Sant Director, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution.
Dr Johnson will give a public lecture:
Natural History in the Age of Humans.
The lecture is scheduled for 1 March 2018,7:30 pm, in room Shanklin 107, and will be followed by a reception in the Woodhead Lounge at 8:30 pm.
Natural history museums represent a fundamental tool to understand and preserve Earth’s natural and cultural heritage. The public perception of museums as educational experiences masks their deeper value to human society as the creators and keepers of our knowledge of the natural and cultural world. With a rapidly growing world population, food insecurity, infectious diseases, and invasive species are problems that may find their solution in the genomics of biodiversity housed in museum collections. Minerals, meteorites, and fossils are the physical evidence of the planet’s history, climate, biological evolution, and resource base. In an increasingly digital era, museums are one of the last bastions of the real thing.
Dr. Johnson oversees more than 440 employees and a collection of more than 145 million objects—the largest natural history collection in the world. Kirk Johnson is a paleontologist who has led expeditions in 11 countries and 19 states that resulted in the discovery of more than 1,400 fossil sites. His research focuses on fossil plants and the extinction of the dinosaurs. He is known for his scientific articles, popular books, museum exhibitions, documentaries, presentations, and collaborations with artists to reconstruct ancient ecosystems. In 2010-11, he led the Snowmastodon Project, the excavation of an amazing ice age site near Snowmass Village, Colorado. This dig recovered more than 5,400 bones of mammoths, mastodons and other ice age animals and was featured in the NOVA documentary, Ice Age Death Trap, and in Johnson’s book, Digging Snowmastodon: Discovering an Ice Age World in the Colorado Rockies. His latest book, Ancient Wyoming, explores the prehistory and geology of the Bighorn Basin.
For Wesleyan, it is especially exciting to welcome Dr Johnson, because he is the present occupant of the position first held by the man who started his museum career as the first curator of the Wesleyan Museum of Natural History and the son in law of Orange Judd, ichthyologist George Brown Goode.
By that time, we hope to also celebrate the return to public life of Wesleyan’s cast of Glyptodon, as discussed in several earlier blogs. She will be exhibited in the lobby of Exley, between the entrance to the Science Library and Tischler Hall.
Wesleyan’s remarkable series of fossils casts includes two large specimens of ferocious predatorial reptiles- Plesiosaurus and Ichthyosaurus. The fossil casts were in a dishearteningly deplorable state when they were rediscovered, crated in the Penthouse of Exley. The casts were put in crates when the Wesleyan Museum closed in 1957. We did not know where they were stored, but they were moved to the penthouse of the Exley Science center when the building was occupied in 1970. After 60 years of chill and thaw in the uncontrolled environment, large cracks were running across the surfaces, and the paint was chipped in many places. The Ichthyosaurus communis cast even had a number of jarring holes in various places. We probed the possibilities of salvaging these treasures, conducting extensive research into reversible restorative methods.
Being part of the Ward Series of Fossil Casts, this series of early large casts were once celebrated feature exhibits in major museums worldwide from 1866 onwards. Orange Judd donated a full series of these casts to the Wesleyan Museum when it opened in Judd Hall in 1870. The Plesiosaurus macrocephalus was an early cast of the holotype specimen of its species, and the second of its kind to be found. After almost 150 years since their making, the plaster has shrunk from off-gassing and evaporation, causing the inflexible paint layer to peel off and crackle, and simply “floating” above the plaster instead of adhering to it.
Given their historical significance, great care was taken to employ the least intrusive methods in their restoration. We strove to minimise the changes made to the original, retaining as much of the old paint as possible. The casts were carefully inspected for unstable paint flecks, which were glued back down using acrylic medium. An airgun was passed gently over the casts to remove dust without abrading the fragile paint layer.
A non-shrinking putty was used to fill in the larger holes and cracks in the plaster, some of which were created by early curators nailing labels into the cast itself. The missing paint chips were carefully colour-matched using archival acrylic paints, and filled in using meticulous stippling brushstrokes- a long painstaking process. Artist sponges are used to fill in parts of the background with major blemishes to recreate the natural texture of the casts. As the acrylic paints dry to a finish that looks glossier than the original, distressing of the surrounding matrix was done using fine grit sandpaper buffers, aiming for an earthy texture that is faithful to the original. Each cast took about 20 hours to restore to their formal glory. After applying a thin coat of archival breathable sealant, the casts are ready for show.
Perhaps the modest, undemonstrative splendour of even the most major museums are so ingrained in our minds that we often don’t realise the strenuous effort put into each piece in an exhibition. Perhaps next time, you will take a moment to wonder as you wander, down the galleries of deep time past.
Cover photo: Freshly restored Ichthyosaurus communis cast detail from the Joe Webb Peoples Museum collection at Wesleyan. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan ’21.
Long thought to be marine dinosaurs, Plesiosaurs and Ichthyosaurs were once formidable apex predators in the Mesozoic. Living in oceans at the same time when the dinosaurs were roaming the land, these magnificent beasts are now iconic displays in many major museums, showing these animals as representatives of this golden age of the giants, some 228 to 112 million years ago (Ma). Their discovery is a story about an unsung woman of science, whose contribution to palaeontology changed our understanding of evolution forever.
It is a story of heartbreak as well as classist and elitist struggle, which lies behind that innocent, lighthearted children tongue-twister derived from Terry Sullivan’s lyrics to a 1908 song.
She sells seashells on the seashore The shells she sells are seashells, I’m sure So if she sells seashells on the seashore Then I’m sure she sells seashore shells.
The she was Mary Anning (1799-1847), born poor in southern England, and was never far from the austerity that she internalised as a way of living. Being a woman in the household of a low-class cabinetmaker, Mary had no access to formal education. She did, however, accompany her father in the unusual pastime of fossil hunting along the coast of Lyme Regis, and their fossil finds were sold as curiosities. Neither of her father’s occupations improved the circumstances of the family, and when the father died in 1810, his pregnant wife was left with little more than a large debt.
It was Mary who found her way in the world by continuing her father’s work in fossil hunting and turning it into a livelihood.With her widowed mother, she managed a little fossil shop by the sea to eke out a meagre income. In 1811, she made one of the most significant fossil finds in all of history. On the coast of Lyme-Regis, she co-discovered an Ichthyosaurus with her brother – the first of its kind ever to be discovered. This gargantuan specimen was soon purchased by a private collector for £23 (approx. $2200 in today’s worth). In subsequent years, she became the most prolific fossil hunter of her time, unearthing many other important fossils including Plesiosaurs, Pterodactyls and more Ichthyosaurs, many of which eventually became important holotype specimens.
Nevertheless, being a working class woman in the 19th-century, Mary never had much credibility in the scientific community. Despite her frequent correspondence with many of its prominent members, and despite providing fossils for their research, she was always the daughter of a cabinetmaker that had no place in scientific discourse. A series of 6 papers starting in 1814 by Sir Everard Home described the Ichthyosaurs based on Mary’s finds, but she was not credited in the papers. Similarly, in 1821 and 1824, William Conybeare published and presented descriptions of the Plesiosaur fossils and thanked the collector of the fossil, but failed to mention Mary in any way. Even Sir Richard Owen- the scientist who coined the term “dinosaurs”- neglected to mention this lower class woman, despite having thanked the gentleman who acquired it from her, when he described Plesiosaurus macrocephalus in 1840. So harshly unjust was their negligence of her contributions that she once lamented in a letter “The world has used me so unkindly, I fear it has made me suspicious of everyone.”
The Plesiosaurs and Ichthyosaurs she introduced to science were the most terrorising predators in the oceans during their heyday. Growing to 15-20m in length and weighing almost a tonne, these monsters were powered by strong flippers that allowed them to pursue their prey at remarkable speeds. Ichthyosaurs were so successful in their survival strategies that they survived for almost 120 million years. By the Cretaceous era, they had adapted to living in every ocean on the planet. Their discovery marked one of the most pivotal moments in palaeontology at a time when the issue of extinction – whether God’s divine creations could possibly become extinct – was a matter of great contention, their discovery was the final testimony that extinctions do occur. When living counterparts of tiny fossil seashells and trilobites may be argued to still be lurking somewhere in the unexplored depths of the ocean, some unfortunate fishermen would almost inevitably have encountered giant swimming lizards should they still inhabit our oceans.
With contemporaries like Darwin, Charles Lyell and Richard Owen, Mary’s story may have been drowned in the many unjust traditions of scientific publications in the 19th century. Nevertheless, the drama that evolves around her life’s work will live on on Wesleyan’s walls and that of many major museums, as a testimony of science as a field where success in expanding knowledge triumphs over other qualities.
Marvel at the grandeur of these impressive monsters, and listen to their bittersweet tales of toil and tears of an unforgotten giant– Mary Anning. Soon to come, on the 3rd floor of Exley…
Cover photo: Ichthyosaurusplatyodon skull detail, copy of an original found by Mary Anning, in the Joe Webb Peoples Museum Collection at Wesleyan University. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan ’21.
Four millions years is a blink of an eye in terms of evolutionary time.
Our collection houses 5600 specimens of fossil seashells from Sarasota County, Florida, from over 460 species. These fossils are found not along the coast of Florida as one might expect, but buried in sediments far inland. After 4 million years since their demise, their diversity and density still closely resemble that of the rich marine fauna which we see at Florida’s beautiful coasts today.
Florida boasts some of the most prolific shelling beaches, arguably in the entire world. It is home to some of the largest, most exquisite living snails (gastropods), whose shells are highly sought after by avid collectors of nature’s jewels. But among the most prized of all treasures are shells that are anomalous in their form. Seashells are categorised into two categories based on their body plans: bivalves such as clams, that have two symmetrical shells (left and right), and gastropods, such as snails, which have one shell, commonly a whorled spire, sometimes a shallow cone. You might not have noticed a rather unusual fact about the coiled snails: almost all are right-handed, i.e., their opening (aperture), where the living fleshy part of the snail emerges from its shell, is on the right when the shell placed in standard position, with the earliest-formed part (the protoconch) pointing up.
As said above, the present beaches are not the only place in Florida where one can find shells. Far in-land, in the county of Sarasota, fossil-bearing sediments from the Pliocene contain some of the most abundant and diverse mollusc faunas in the world. Four million years ago, sea levels were much higher than today. The entire county of Sarasota was covered by a shallow sea teeming with life. Temperature drops in the Pleistocene period, that followed the Pliocene, resulted in more of the ocean waters to be locked up at the poles in the polar ice sheets, and the sea levels fell as a consequence. Over a very short period of time, many shallow seas thus emerged as land, forming a major part of what we know as Florida today. Marine life died in massive numbers in the inland areas and their harder parts were preserved as fossils—windows into marine diversity of the Pliocene.
Since the Pliocene, marine faunas have adopted their modern configurations. If you walk down the shores in Florida today, you will find very similar shells as those that lived at Sarasota four million years ago. Some species may have gone extinct, but many speciations occur in continuum with the living shells we have today. A handful of species might no longer be represented, but many iconic species have changed very little in the millennia since. One enchanting specimen is the lightning whelk, Busycon contrarium Conrad. While most species of snails have a rightward spire, as described above, the lightning whelk and their allies have a sinistral morphology – a leftward spire. This is unique to six whelk species that are endemic to North America (and hence the species name contrarium – the contrary whelk).
It is not often clear why North American marine snails that evolved sinistrality became so successful in their native habitats. There is some evidence for an evolutionary advantage due to predator evasion; predators are used to attacking snails from their right. Alternatively, this novelty could simply be a random trait that raised from a chance mutation that happens to be selectively neutral—it renders neither advantage nor disadvantage to the snails that carry it. The success of the sinistral snails into the modern days debunks a blatant misconception many hold towards evolutionary theory. In the 18th century, evolution was given the connotation of ‘progress’, a highly goal-driven process in which all things become increasingly more complex and more sophisticated. A model of thought called the Great Chain of Being, having its origin in writings by ancient Greek neoplatonists, was prevalent from medieval times through the 18th century: all animals evolve in a mono-directional upward hierarchy that resembles a ladder with the ultimate goal being apotheosis into humans. Vestigial traditions of this school of thought are still embedded in our society, given its popularity in 18th century Christian interpretive traditions. Even today, the icon of the March of Progress that portrays humanity as the result of a linear progress from apes, is influencing the popular ideas about evolution as a linear advancement and improvement.
In gastropods, lefties are not common, even among shells. All of the six known extant sinistral shell species of Busycon whelks in North America diverged from one lineage – the original B. contrarium. Traits that confer significant fitness often have high levels of convergence in analogous habitats. Given that sinistrality in these North American gastropods only evolved once in the marine environment, the evolutionary advantage of this trait is not clear, and it might be negligible. In our collection, we are fortunate to feature another sinistral species- Conus adversarius. These unusual species are in high demand by collectors seeking novelties.
As these popular jewels of the natural world still line our shores today, measures are in place to protect their heritage that spanned more than 4 million years of geological time. Legislation in Florida aims to restrict the removal of living shells from their natural habitat, and to preserve these ancient lineages which originated before the dawn of humans, lest our arrogance and ignorance cause them to disappear from our shores forever.
Coauthored by Tan Yu Kai and Andy Tan
Cover photo: Apical view of a Busycon contrarium in the Joe Webb Peoples Museum Collection at Wesleyan University. Photo courtesy of Andy Tan ’21.
We made some headway with the Glyptodon restoration: the tail was once more fixed to the carapace, and repairs were made to its internal structure =.
Then we cleaned Glyptodon. Now we still have to fill in a few damaged spots (see white spot in left image), and probably provide a new coat of paint. In the mean time, work has started to build a new platform for display. We are still working on deciding its new location, probably somewhere on the ground floor in Exley. Sadly, we have not (yet) been able to locate the missing skull and foot despite major reorganization, removal of garbage, and sorting through items in the penthouse of Exley.
We did move down some more casts from the penthouse: two ichthyosaurs, two plesiosaurs, and a mosasaur. We are working on getting them out of their crates, cleaning them and doing minor repairs. We hope to mount them on the walls, third floor Exley.