400 Years of the Telescope

After parking at home for a night, we packed up for the last of the interviews for the production, and drove to Cal Tech, in Southern California, to interview Dr. Charles Beichman. He spoke of the search for exosolar planets similar to Earth, and where the findings have taken humanity so far. This very engaging man left us feeling encouraged for future discoveries around other stars like ours!

The next day we headed to Mt. Wilson, home of the Hooker 100 inch telescope, made famous by the one and only Edwin Hubble. He studied what were believed to be nebulous puffs of stars, and found them to be other galaxies. That put a whole new spin on the universe! We were escorted by the congenial site manager, Robert Cadman, and he introduced us to Don Nicholson, an long-time employee of the Mt. Wilson Institute. His father worked with Hubble and George Ellery Hale; Hale put up the solar telescopes there. Don was fun and candid, and gave us lots of behind-the-scenes insights of the famous astronomers way back in the days of males-only on the mountain. Things have changed, and what better way to show it, than to interview Wendy Freedman, the youthful and energetic Director of the Carnegie Observatories. Dr. Freedman is one very intelligent lady, with a refreshing curiosity for our universe that belies how much she knows about the cosmos. We placed her in front of the Hooker telescope with its old-fashioned buttons, lights and dials. When we finished, we shot b-roll of the big blue towering telescope. There were all sorts of additional scope parts lying in corners of the building, pointing to the not too distant past, and yet appearing so very historic. Then the fog rolled in, and we rolled out.

Saturday found us at the SETI Institute, to interview the always-delightful Seth Shostak, an astronomer searching for extra terrestrial intelligence out there in the cosmos. Seth has a comic’s wit, and his humor is matched by his deep beliefs, extra-ordinary brilliance, and an open mind for whatever is out there, awaiting discovery. He is working with the Allen Telescope Array, which will consist of over 300 radio dishes scanning the sky for sounds of other life, unidentified radio waves which most likely will be the source of intelligent contact.

Speaking of Contact, we drove out to the Array, which is a mere 2 and a half hours away, located by Mt. Lassen. There we did our very last and important interview with Dr. Jill Tarter, also of SETI. She was the person Jodi Foster’s character was portraying in the movie, “Contact” years ago. Jill is a super-smart lady, who harbors great hope at coming across extra terrestrial intelligence, and if anyone can do this, its her and the SETI folks!
Jill was kind enough to move the radio scopes to and fro for our cameras, then she maneuvered herself into position on lava rocks for our interview. She looked fantastic and we felt the same way as we wrapped up production and headed back home for a well-deserved meal and some semblance of normality.

Now, its time to log and capture and write and sew this program together! We’ll keep you posted on how things progress!

Posted by 400 Years of the Telescope at 08:44 AM | Permalink

After dinner at a Mexican place Wednesday night, we sacked out until the next morning, where we had a bit of time to organize our gear, charge our batteries, and pour a bunch of Starbucks into our guts. Kris manned the helm up one of the most twisted roads in Arizona, the one that leads to the Large Binocular Telescope. We stopped on the way up to have a picnic lunch at a sunlit forested area, with none other than the cheeriest Father in Astronomy, Dr. Chris Corbally, of the Vatican Observatory; he exudes such pure sweetness that the bees pestered him relentlessly as he ate his tuna sandwich. When we finally made it up the hill, it was a miracle I didn’t toss my lunch immediately upon the spinning ground. But I was eager to use the energy to gather b-roll of the biggest pair o’ binocs ever invented. Two 8.4 meter mirrors side by side stare out into the heavens when that thing opens up. It’s way bigger than the word “large’ can describe. Inside, we were helped by Doug Officer, a congenial fellow with the clout to put us anywhere we wanted to be. We sited a few different angles inside the dome, set up the Plan-O-Cam, and conferred with the Telescope operator where we wanted the shutter to aim for the exterior/interior opening shot. I was the designated exterior shooter, which meant up I was placed on the roof of the Vatican Observatory, my camera focused on the LBT dome.

It was cold at 10 thousand feet altitude, and an icy wind chilled my bones. The orange sunset reflected back against a deep blue sky, and Dr. Corbally had to prod me off the roof when 30 minutes had flown by. I was frozen, and happy, and craving some hot fried food and cold beers when we finally got back into town 2 hours later.

Then we crashed at the home of Kris’ kin, Dean and Donna, two of the nicest Koenigs on the planet; we slept for a few hours, and got up early to hit the road home. We made it home by 2 am, and have one more road trip to go: The Mt. Wilson Observatory, and the strangely intriguing Allen Telescope Array, with the even more intriguing and strange Dr. Seth Shostak, along with the celebrity-status radio astronomer, Dr. Jill Tarter. Until next time…

Posted by 400 Years of the Telescope at 01:57 PM | Permalink

We were back in Arizona, and found ourselves at the offices of the Large Synoptic Survey Telescope, a device planned to be in operation in the great year of 2009.
The LSST is a proposed ground-based 8.4-metertelescope that will provide digital imaging of faint astronomical objects across the entire sky, night after night. We interviewed the director and on of the astronomers in their conference room, and we look forward to the great findings of this instrument.

We were off to the grand Kitt Peak observatories. We interviewed the always-pleasant Dr. Mark Giampapa, with the McMath-Pierce solar telescope in the background. When we finished, our old friend Claude Plymate escorted us on the steep tunnel-tram to the very top of the telescope; once outside, he maneuvered the mirrors, catching the sunlight and aiming it just so for Kris to shoot more award-winning b-roll. And I’ve never seen dust look so pretty as when its falling in and out of the sunlight inside the huge optic tube.

Then we cornered and forced a reluctant but wily George Jacoby into a quicky interview inside his spectroscopy room. It was cramped, funny and fast, but worth the cajoling of this humble, humorous man.

Posted by 400 Years of the Telescope at 01:56 PM | Permalink

We flew to Boston, specifically to the Harvard Observatory, to interview Dr. Owen Gingirich, who is not only a brilliant and lively historian, but also a captivating writer on the movers and shakers of astronomy’s early years. In preparing for our interview, Dr. Gingerich ushered us up narrow winding steps into the historic campus dome. There, he gripped the majestically long telescope and swung it to and fro as if it were newly greased; Kris shoved the large rolling wooden bench, or “observing chair” into place, and Dr. Gingerich perched himself upon its plush burgundy cushions, where the likes of Hubble and Shapely sat, decades ago. After the interview, Kris followed Dr. Gingerich into his office and beheld several books dating back 400 years, written by the great Copernicus, with faded inky notes in the margins from readers of the 15th century! What an archive this man has, all protected and locked in a fire-proof safe. We considered ourselves quite fortunate to see these magnificent documents from a time before uniform book-binding was the norm. Apparently in those days, the pages were purchased from the printer and the buyer bound them up with whatever was handy.

After a lovely dinner that included fresh oysters with Owen and his dear, witty wife, Miriam, we all strolled back to Harvard Yard, so we could spy the comet Holmes with Owen’s binoculars. We invited a few strolling college students to get a peek, and if we had more time, probably would have spent another hour randomly calling folks over to enjoy this celestial delight.

Posted by 400 Years of the Telescope at 01:55 PM | Permalink