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Lights, Camera, Eureka!
Scientists use photography to solve unusual problems
by Michelle Sipics
in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts
David Hu might seem like a typical mathematics student. He
wears glasses and polo shirts, creates Web pages about his work, and
even has a spoof of the Google search engine, a page he calls Hoogle,
welcoming visitors to his Web site.
But on September 28th, the doctoral candidate successfully defended his thesis to a committee of professors at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology – a dissertation titled "The hydrodynamics of water-walking insects."
In other words, Hu has spent the last four years trying to figure out how bugs walk on water.
Insect locomotion may seem an unusual area of interest for a
mathematician, but Hu’s success is certainly not the first instance of
an individual from a seemingly unrelated field making significant
contributions to another area of research. In fact, Hu and his advisor,
associate professor John Bush, relied largely on technology pioneered
by another surprising contributor to the study of animal locomotion –
130 years earlier.
* * *
In 1872, Eadweard Muybridge was a successful photographer living
in San Francisco, California. Already famous for his photographs of
landscapes, he would become even more renowned over the course of the
next eight years as a trailblazer in the use of high-speed photography.
Popular legend has it that Muybridge’s first high-speed photographic
work was the result of a bet with businessman and former governor
Leland Stanford, but in fact Muybridge was not a betting man. Stanford
was (among other things) a racehorse owner, and commissioned Muybridge
to determine whether all four hooves of one of his best horses were
suspended in the air simultaneously as he trotted. (That the horse,
Occident, was galloping in the first photographs taken by Muybridge is
another incorrect element of the popular version of events.) Muybridge
took on Stanford’s request in the interest of advancing his skills as a
photographer, not for money, and certainly not for the advancement of
science. Little did he know that the latter was where his work would
arguably become most important.
Muybridge began photographing horses in motion
almost immediately after Stanford’s request, but six years went by
before he was able to produce a satisfactory series of images showing a
horse running at a full gallop. (It should be noted that his
photographic endeavors were interrupted in 1874, when he took enough
time off from the cameras to shoot and kill his wife’s lover, be
acquitted of the man’s murder, and leave the U.S. for a period of time
while things cooled down.)
Muybridge eventually returned to California and began using a line of
cameras to photograph a horse as it galloped past them, but his first
attempts were unsatisfactory. The photographic technology of the time
was not suited for capturing moving subjects, let alone accommodating
the use of multiple cameras requiring extremely precise timing to
produce the desired series of images. Muybridge, after many attempts to
mechanically open and close the shutters on his cameras faster than
they were designed to move, decided to use a new approach: electricity.
* * *
One hundred and thirty years into the future, David Hu had a different problem: Denny’s Paradox.
In 2001, Hu was working with an advisor, John Bush, who was an expert
in surface tension. Bush suggested that Hu examine the paradox raised
by biophysicist Mark Denny,
which stated that infant water striders should not be able to move. The
problem was based on the idea that water-walking insects move by
creating capillary waves (for all intents and purposes, ripples) on the
surface of the water. Denny demonstrated that such a method of motion
would require an infant water strider to move its legs much faster than
it is actually capable of doing. Based on that theory of water strider
motion, infant water striders should not be able to move – hence the
paradox. (Adult water striders can move their legs fast enough to
achieve forward motion using this method.)
"It was a problem readily examined with traditional techniques in fluid
mechanics," said Hu, such as the evaluation of motion using mathematics
and physics. But these techniques did not explain how infant water
striders defied the paradox by achieving motion.
Fortunately for the field of fluid dynamics, Hu wasn’t afraid to try
more difficult and untraditional methods; he even developed a robotic
water strider. But it would take quite some time before he found an
unconventional approach that yielded new insight into the infant
insects’ theoretically impossible motion.
* * *
Back in the 19th century, Muybridge was busy with his plans to use
electricity in triggering cameras. Before hitting upon this idea, he
had tried repeatedly to fire his cameras using traditional mechanical
methods – as a horse galloped past, it would trip wires strung across
the track and attached to the camera’s shutters. But this method caused
two problems: first, it triggered the shutters too slowly, so that the
horse had generally moved past the range of a camera by the time it
fired. And more problematic was the motion of the shutters themselves:
once opened, they closed too slowly, allowing too much light to enter
the camera and creating an image of a blur where a horse should have
appeared.
To combat these problems, Muybridge turned to electricity. He devised a
method wherein electrical current interacted with a magnet to trip
shutters’ catches, allowing the cameras to fire almost instantly after
a horse’s hooves touched the trip wires. The shutters also opened and
closed faster, creating images that depicted their subject much more
clearly than in Muybridge’s previous attempts. The now-famous 1878
series of images that became "The Horse In Motion" still showed nowhere
near the level of detail expected from today’s photographic equipment,
but they were clear enough to show the horse’s hooves in each image –
and in the most famous image of the series, to show all four of them
off the ground. Muybridge went on to photograph lions, elephants,
birds, and humans – from boxers to gymnasts performing somersaults to
himself, walking. Nearly any animal that moved captured his attention.
The creation of these sequences and the technique used to produce them
were a huge advance for photography, but also for science. The images
made it possible to break down motion that was generally too fast for
the human eye to dissect completely.
As one filmmaker says, the type of photography Muybridge used to
capture "The Horse In Motion" is essentially the opposite of what’s
done when making a movie. A movie produces the illusion of motion by
stringing together many static photographs and projecting them in
order, upwards of 20 per second. But reverse that process by slowing
the motion down and looking at each image, and you get Muybridge’s
work: frozen time in fraction-of-a-second increments. Ironically, in
the very next year, he would design a device to do just the opposite:
to take his own static images and put them back in motion.
Muybridge presented his "zoogyroscope," which eventually became known
as the zoˆpraxiscope, to Stanford in 1879. The device was what might be
called a precursor to the modern movie projector, taking a series of
images like the ones Muybridge was so talented at producing, and
rapidly projecting the sequence to create something that looked like
motion.
Together, Muybridge’s motion disassembly and reassembly techniques
would play an important role in David Hu’s study of water striders.
What would happen if a series of photographs actually consisted of
copies of essentially the same image? The zoˆpraxiscope would project a
static image. And as it turns out, a similar situation would solve Hu’s
problem.
* * *
As David Hu began to study insect locomotion and, specifically, Denny’s
Paradox, he used a combination of pure fluid dynamics logic and
high-speed photography to come to an unexpected conclusion.
Fluid dynamics equations seemed to support Denny’s Paradox; according
to calculations, infant water striders shouldn’t be able to move, at
least not by the method scientists assumed the insects were using.
Hu was familiar with both Muybridge’s work and the high-speed
photographic work of fluid dynamicists, including that of Ludwig
Prandtl, who authored a paper that included 12 photographs of water
flowing past spheres in 1904. With Muybridge’s original strobe
photography concepts and the fluid dynamics-specific work of Prandtl in
mind, Hu set out to photograph water striders in a similar fashion.
In order to accomplish this, he needed sophisticated high-speed
photography equipment. "The insects are exceedingly small, further
making them difficult to see," said Hu, "and they move too fast to be
seen with the naked eye." If it was difficult for Muybridge to break
down the motion of a horse, imagine the amplified difficulty of
deconstructing the motion of an insect smaller than a horse’s eye.
Fortunately, the technology behind Muybridge’s ideas has continued to
advance over the past century and a half, and high-speed photographic
equipment is sophisticated enough to do just what Hu wanted. And in a
stroke of good luck, the equipment he needed was available at MIT – at
a center named for the most famous heir to Muybridge’s photographic
throne.
* * *
Harold Eugene "Doc" Edgerton was born in 1903, one year before
Muybridge’s death. He studied electrical engineering at the University
of Nebraska before enrolling at MIT, where he eventually became a
professor.
Having been exposed to the art of photography as a young child,
Edgerton had a lifelong interest in the field, beginning his
photographic adventures by using strobe lights to study objects in
motion. In 1932, he began to use strobe photography to create
sequential-image series like the ones Muybridge had produced over 50
years earlier, albeit much faster, and at a much higher resolution.
Some of his more famous works include a sequence of photographs of a
splashing milkdrop and another of a bullet passing through an apple.
Edgerton’s work, like Muybridge’s in the 19th century, became widely
known and highly acclaimed. He continued to develop his talents and won
numerous awards, revolutionized sports photography, and was
commissioned by the U.S. Army for work in nighttime aerial
reconnaissance photography, for which he eventually received a medal
from the U.S. War Department. By 1940, it seemed that the 37-year-old
Edgerton had accomplished more than most people do in a full lifetime.
But he was far from finished.
Later that year, Edgerton took his talents to Hollywood, helping to
establish the role of high-speed photography in movie making. In the
mid 40s, his Army work was used just before the D-Day invasion. And in
the next three decades, Edgerton would work with Jacques Cousteau,
develop a technique used to capture images of human blood flow, locate
a warship that had been resting on the sea floor since the 1500s,
locate a U.S. battleship that had been missing since the 1800s, and
receive the U.S. National Medal of Science, among other honors.
Eventually, MIT would establish an educational center in his name: the
Edgerton Center, home to a number of programs for MIT undergraduates,
as well as a state-of-the-art high-speed imaging facility.
MIT students are encouraged to use the photographic and video equipment
available at the Edgerton Center in the course of their research, and
David Hu took advantage of it. Eventually he focused on a specific
aspect of insect motion: a water strider’s ability to ascend a
meniscus, the point at the "end" of a liquid surface where the liquid
meets a solid. You can see an example of this if you look through a
clear drinking glass with water inside – the water curves upward
slightly at the point where it meets the glass. This curvature is
barely perceptible to a human, but to a small insect, it’s a
considerable obstacle.
Some water striders can leap small distances, and can transition from
water to land using that ability. Others lack this talent, and so must
use another method when they want to move to dry land. Hu set out to
study this method, and used the Edgerton Center equipment to capture
the motion of a land-bound insect.
Water striders have six legs, and a natural assumption would be that in
order to climb a meniscus and leave the water, the insect would have to
move those legs. But high-speed photographs captured by Hu showed no
evidence of the insect’s legs moving. An observer could almost envision
Muybridge scratching his head while feeding a sequence of photos
supposedly documenting motion through his zoˆpraxiscope and getting an
apparently static projection as a result.
But as it turned out, this hypothetical zoˆpraxiscope wasn’t broken.
The legs of the water strider weren’t moving – at least not in a way
that human eyes could see. But by examining the images in a different
light, Hu made a remarkable discovery.
By photographing a water strider climbing a meniscus while light was
shined on the insect from above, Hu was able to distinguish small areas
of the water below the insect where the photograph was brighter or
darker than in the rest of the image. After studying the images
carefully, Hu realized that the bright areas were created by light
passing through raised sections of the water below the insects’ legs
and being focused into one spot. Similarly, the dark areas were created
by "indented" sections of the water, which diffused the light passing
through them.
Hu determined that a water-walker pulls at the surface with claws on
its front and back legs while simultaneously pushing on the surface
with its middle legs. The resulting deformation of the water’s surface
is what allows the water strider to climb an otherwise insurmountable
meniscus.
"The camera made visible the various postures assumed by the insects,"
said Hu, "and drew our attention to the unique wetting properties at
their leg tips."
The raised and indented sections of water in Hu’s images were in fact
menisci – but not the type the insects were trying to climb. Instead,
the water strider climbs a curved liquid surface by creating its own
meniscus – in fact, several of them – using the pulling and pushing
motions generated with its tarsi, the equivalent of a human’s ankle and
foot. And just like humans, water striders can move their versions of
ankles and feet without moving their legs. Goodbye, Denny’s Paradox.
Now a post-doc at New York University, Hu continues to study insect
locomotion. His name already appears in biophysics and fluid dynamics
literature as the mathematician who discovered the source of some water
striders’ ability to ascend a meniscus. But he has no plans to stop
there, citing the diversity and massive size of the insect population
as reason enough to keep studying it. He calls the use of high-speed
photography "crucial" to his research, and even cites a resemblance
between one of his more striking published photos and some of Prandtl’s
first work. From horses to milkdrops to water striders, the aesthetic
significance and scientific applications of photography continue to
coincide.
According to Hu, Thoreau said it best: "Nature invites us to lay our
eye level with the smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain."
Michelle Sipics is Dragonfire's Science and Medicine editor. C
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