Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Muybridge and his Zoopraxiscope


The photographer, inventor, and showman Eadweard Muybridge is best known for his 1878 motion studies of horses, but his achievements in photography range far beyond that enduring experiment. He first came to prominence for his expansive vistas of the American West, especially the Yosemite Valley, as well as his richly detailed studies of clouds. In 1873, the US Army commissioned him to document the Modoc War then being waged against the Native American tribes in the craggy lava beds of southern Oregon and northern California. These images were widely reproduced in newspapers, representing an early example of photojournalism from the front. In 1877-1878, Muybridge produced his 360-degree panoramas of San Francisco in thirteen adjacent photographs (see here for a reproduction)—an astonishing technological feat that still plays dizzying tricks on the imagination.

The genesis of the motion studies famously came about when railroad magnate and horse breeder Leland Stanford deigned to settle whether all four of a trotting horse’s hooves are ever off the ground at the same moment. Muybridge’s ingenious solution was to set up a line of wet collodion cameras alongside Stanford's horse track. Each of these had a shutter ready to snap as soon as the horse tripped a thread, thereby producing the famous serial images of a horse’s stride.

(Courtesy Special Collections, Stanford University Libraries)


Once Muybridge successfully split apart the precise components of movement, contemporaries began to wonder whether it would be possible to reanimate the original motion. Enter the delightfully named zoopraxiscope (initially called the zoogyroscope). Muybridge did not seek a patent on his machine, likely owing to the fact that it was an amalgamation of existing technologies such as the magic lantern, phenakistoscope, and zoetrope. Muybridge was accustomed to showing his motion studies as slide lectures, and so he naturally wanted to marry the phenakistoscope's rudimentary persistence of vision to a more public model of projection. The animation technology may have already existed, but supplying it with photographs snapped in rapid succession produced something radically new.

(Copyright held by Kingston Museum and Heritage Service)

In short, the zoopraxiscope consisted of a projecting lantern; rotating glass discs with the motion studies’ silhouettes spinning along the perimeter; and a slotted disc set to rotate in the opposite direction to create the intermittence necessary for the persistence of vision. The original images were re-photographed in an elongated form so as to correct the projector's distortion. These prints were then traced onto the glass discs in silhouette so as to be more readily visible. This short video created in conjunction with a 2010 Muybridge exhibition at the Kingston Museum offers an excellent demonstration of the process.

After Muybridge first presented the zoopraxiscope for the San Francisco Art Association on May 4, 1880, a local reporter wrote that “Nothing was wanting but the clatter of hoofs upon the turf and an occasional breath of steam to make the spectator believe he had before him the flesh and blood steeds” (Haas, 120). It’s difficult for us to fathom this initial wonder at seeing photographs move. Muybridge’s zoopraxiscope is widely recognized as one of the key precursors to the film projector. To be sure, cinema as we know it couldn’t have come about without the innovation of flexible film stock. This advance made the rapid exposure and projection of serial images far less cumbersome than Muybridge’s methods. But it was the zoopraxiscope that first gave audience a taste for the thrill of moving photographs. Today, Muybridge seems an especially vivid embodiment of early photography’s split allegiance to scientific observation and popular entertainment.

For more on Muybridge and the zoopraxiscope see:

Haas, Robert Bartlett. Muybridge: Man in Motion. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976.
Solnit, Rebecca. River of Shadows: Eadweard Muybridge and the Technological Wild West. New York: Viking, 2003.
Stephen Herbert zoopraxiscope project:

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