The Dead Media Notebook

by Bruce Sterling

  As Zuse recalled, the “construction of the Z3 was interrupted in 1939 when I was called up for military service. However, in my spare time, and with the help of friends, I was able to complete the machine.” Only one of Zuse’s computers survived the war: the Z4. This was started in 1942, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to find parts, and in 1943, the Berlin blitz began. The machine was moved around the city to avoid air raids, and then moved to Gottingen, before finally being shifted to Hinterstein, a small village in. Bavaria.

  After the end of the war, the Z4 was moved to Zurich in Switzerland, and in 1950, this Ziffernrechner, or number calculator, was installed at the Federal Polytechnical Institute. Zuse’s developments attracted the attention of IBM which seemed mainly interested in his patents - and Remington Rand, amongst others, but discussions came to nothing. In 1949, he founded his own computer company, Zuse KG, which developed a line of Z computers, and eventually employed about 1,000 people.

  However, short of capital, he gradually sold out to Siemens, the giant industrial conglomerate.and devoted himself to research. In later life, Zuse received many honours, and in 1984 a research institute, the Konrad Zuse Centre for Information Technology (ZIB) was named after him. A copy of his first programme-controlled electro-mechanical digital computer, the Z3, was made in 1960 and put on display at the Deutsches Museum in Munich. A copy of the Z1 was constructed in 1989, and can be found in the Museum for Transport and Technology in Berlin. Konrad Zuse, scientist and inventor, born June 2, 1910 died December 18, 1995.

  [J. A. N. Lee offers a second Zuse obituary.] The last of our great pioneers of the 1930’s died Monday, December 18. Konrad Zuse, developer of the Z-1 through Z-4 machines was clearly one of those who foresaw the development of the computer and did something about it well before those whom we will acknowledge next year in Philadelphia.

  Zuse’s image suffered from his location both in geography and time, since we now know that his work included in an elementary way many of the features of modern machines. I had the pleasure of meeting with Dr. Zuse on several occasions, the last at the IFIP World Computer Congress in Hamburg in August 1994 where he drew standing room only audiences in a conference that was not that well attended elsewhere.

  I have only seen one obituary so far, and I am disappointed that it did not also mention his artistic capabilities also. His paintings were magnificent, and his recent portraits of German computer pioneers (prepared for the IFIP Congress) showed yet another side of this multi-talented pioneer. I was hoping that we could attract him to attend the ENIAC celebrations in February next, but sadly that opportunity is gone.

  I for one will miss him. He was always the one with the joke and for greeting one with humor. I was in a meeting with him the day the Berlin Wall came down. I asked him what he felt about this, to which he replied “Now we can get on with our work!”

  [And a third]

  Konrad Zuse I learned this morning of the death of Konrad Zuse, at age 85. As many of you know, Zuse conceived of the notion of a general purpose digital computer, using binary arithmetic, while a student in Berlin in the 1930s. With the help of his parents and a few friends he set out to build one in his parents’ apartment.

  At the outbreak of the Second World War he was released from service in the German army to work at the Henschel Aircraft Company, where he was a stress analyst. He continued working on his computing ideas, and in December 1941 he completed a machine that computed in binary, using floating point, with a 64-word memory, and which was programmed by paper tape.

  This machine is regarded as the first general purpose, functional digital computer in the world. It was destroyed during the war. Later on Zuse gave it the name “Z3,” by which it is now known. In 1962 Zuse, now the head of a commercial computer company, built a reconstruction based on drawings that did survive.

  This computer, which I saw in operation at the Deutsches Museum a few years ago, is now itself one of the oldest operable computers in the world! Zuse actively promoted his role as a computer pioneer, and he always stressed the historical claims of the Z3.

  I think that he felt less proud of the fact that he also founded a company, since it did not survive (it was eventually absorbed by Siemens).

  My guess is that as time goes on he may be more remembered for being one of the first “start-ups” as for his Z3.

  Zuse was the last of the “first tier” of computer pioneers: Aiken, Stibitz, Eckert, Mauchly, Atanasoff, Turing.

  Incredible to think that so many of them were alive while all the madness of computering in the past couple of years has been going on. I knew him personally and will miss him very much.

  Dead Media 1897: The Consumer Context

  From Stefan Jones

  I recently came into possession of a facimile edition of the 1897 Sears, Roebuck & Co. catalog of 1897 (Fred L. Israel, Editor; Chelsea House Publishers, New York, 1968). Unlike Johnson Smith’s tome, this impressive book is carefully indexed and has page numbers. This made it easy to find the media technologies (dead and otherwise) for sale in America one hundred years ago.

  While I intend to write two working notes on the things I found in Messrs. Sears’ and Roebuck’s catalog, I thought it might be valuable to list all of the various media and communication devices in the book. By comparing the number of items in each category, and the number of pages devoted to each, we can gauge, very roughly, the relative importance of the various media to the American public 100 years ago.

  BOOKS

  A wide variety, are offered in a 12 page section. Some have paragraph length descriptions; most are simply listed by title. Stationery: writing, and drafting supplies are offered in another 12 page section. Supplies for painters: including several cameras obscura, are described in a two page section.

  TELEGRAPHS

  Telegraphs are the lead item in the short (three page) section devoted to electrical devices. Several varieties of keys, relays and sounders are available, along with batteries and accessories. Telegraph related items take up about a page. They catered to both students (the cheapest set, with battery, is $3.00) and industrial users. Sears offered to estimate the cost for private telegraph lines.

  TELEPHONES

  This section occupied about one column (one third of a page) of the electrical section. Three models of telephone, plus separate transmitters and receivers, were available.

  CAMERAS

  About two dozen cameras, plus many accessories and developing supplies, were available. Sears also offered a catalog of “professional studio outfits.” Stereoscopes: Between surveyor’s supplies and thermometers are two columns (page 468 - 469) devoted to steroscopes and views. Sears offers 7 stereoscopes and hundreds of views. The latter are very loosely grouped into “subjects” (nature, humor, sites of Europe, Life of Christ, the World’s Fair), and cost between 5 - 10 cents each, or 40 cents to $1.00 per dozen.

  MAGIC LANTERNS

  Both juvenile (13 models) and professional (8 models) lanterns were available, along with several dozen named slide sets, a book, lime gas generator, and a operator’s lamp. The juvenile magic lanterns could be had for as little as $.75 (including slides!). The most expensive was $8.00. Some of the “professional” lanterns were monstrous beasts. The largest (“No. 61100, Our Special Stereopticon”) was illuminated by lime light (gas generator sold separately), cost $98, and looks like a twin barreled Victorian laser cannon. It was designed with “dissolving views” in mind. Sears also offered a separate Magic Lantern catalog, with even more lantern models and more slides.

  PHONOGRAPHS

  A single phonograph, actually, the nearly identical “graphophone” that competed with Edison’s device, is offered, along with accessories, and a few dozen cylinders. These take up a paltry half page.

  Source: The 1897 Sears Roebuck Catalogue (Chelsea House Publishers, New York, 1968)

  18TH CENTURY MULTIMEDIA: Loutherbourg’s Eidophusikon

  [The eighteenth-century Ei
dophusikon has been variously described as a mechanical theater, a miniature stage, a diorama, a panorama, or a physiorama. Featuring lighting, mechanical motion, sound effects, architectural simulation, dramatic special effects and something akin to a storyline, the Eidophusikon would probably be described today as “multimedia” or “virtuality.”]

  “Even more intriguing was the mechanical theatre of Philippe Jacques de Loutherbourg (1740-1812) which he called the Eidophusikon. Loutherbourg was born at Strasbourg, son of a miniature painter to the court of Darmstadt. Trained as a painter himself, success came quickly to him.

  The spirit of the age was one of inspired inventiveness and when he arrived in London in 1771 he was introduced to David Garrick the actor manager at Drury Lane who ‘loved all art and artists’ and designed scenery for him. He was one of the first to build actual miniature stage maquettes and in love with the world of theatre he set up the Eidophusikon in 1782 at his home for public performance.

  This soon had the whole London art world flocking to see it. There was a miniature stage which moved its scenery by means of pulleys and produced the illusion of changing sky effects, clouds, storms, sunrise by a moving backcloth of tinted linen lit from behind by lamps. Loutherbourg called it his ‘movable canvas’ and accompanied with telling sound effects as tiny mechanical actors appeared automatically and reenacted some such drama as Milton’s Satan arraying his troops on the Fiery Lake. His work had a lasting effect on the London stage and the art of mise en scene, for he emphasized the need of lighting and picturesque scenery.”

  PROSPECTUS OF AN EXHIBITION TO BE CALLED THE Eidophusikon.

  W. DALBERG, A German Artist, in reviving this Exhibition, (originally produced by the celebrated De Loutherbourg,) begs leave to present to the Nobility and Gentry, a description of his intended Exhibition.

  The Interior will be a Model of a beautiful Classic Theatre; the dimensions of the stage, 10 feet by 12; devoted entirely for Picturesque Scenery, Panoramas, Dioramas, and Physioramas.

  The following is a Programme of the Scenery:

  SCENE 1. A view from the summit of One Tree Hill, in Greenwich Park, looking up the Thames to the Metropolis; on one side, conspicuous upon its picturesque eminence, will stand Flamstead House; and below, on the right, that grand mass of building, GREENWICH HOSPITAL, with its imposing Cupola, cut out of pasteboard, and painted with architectural exactness. The large group of Trees forming another division, beyond which the towns of Greenwich and Deptford, with the shore on each side stretching to the Metropolis. In the distance will be seen the hills of Hampstead, Highgate, and Harrow; and the intermediate space will be occupied as the pool, or port of London, crowded with Shipping, each mass of which will be cut out of pasteboard, and receding in size by the perspective of their distance. On the rising of the Curtain, the scene will be enveloped in that mysterious light which is the precursor of daybreak; the mist will clear away, the picture brighten by degrees, until it assumes the appearance of a beauteous summer’s day, gilding the tops of the trees and the projections of the lofty buildings; the clouds will pass to a clear and beautiful moon-light night. To make the view as true to Nature as art will allow, the Shipping and Steam Boats will sail up and down the river.

  SCENE 2. Diorama of the “Ladyes Chapel,” Southwark, with the effects of Light and Shade.

  SCENE 3. The effect of a Storm at Sea, in which will be described all the characteristic horrors of wind, hail, thunder, lightning, and the roaring of the waves, with the loss of an East Indiaman.

  SCENE 4. A moving Panorama of English Scenery, from Windsor to Eton, the Exhibition of which was so universally admired at the Drury Lane Theatre.

  SCENE 5. A Calm, with an Italian Sea Port, in which will be represented the rising of the Moon, the Mountains, and the Water will be finally contrasted by a lofty Light House of picturesque

  Source: AUTOMATA AND MECHANICAL TOYS, an illustrated history by Mary Hillier. Bloomsbury Books, London 1976, 1988. ISBN 1 870630 27 0.

  Karakuri; the Japanese puppet theater of Chikamatsu

  “In the book Karakuri Zui published in 1797 (kindly translated for me by Suzume Matsudaira) an historical account is given of the founding of a famous mechanical theatre and the family who carried it on for over 100 years. Early in the 17th century, a man called Yasui Doton created a favorite pleasure spot in Osaka by joining two branches of the Yohori River with a canal. On 25th May 1662, a little theatre for the performance of karakuri was opened here by Takeda Omi. The performances may be judged to have been a clever combination of working devices, conjuring and showmanship. During the next 100 years there were at least five generations who adopted the name of Takeda Omi or Takeda Izumo.

  “The founder, Takeda Omi I, was born in Awa and seems originally to have made his name as a clockmaker. Originally he made ‘sand clocks’ [sand pouring from a hopper to drive a series of gears and wheels.] A famous clock he presented to the Emperor of Japan worked by lead weights suspended from a key-wound cylinder. This was his piece de resistance; he took eight years to construct it. The ‘Eternal Clock’ not only struck the time of day but showed the seasons, the months and the days. It brought Takeda great fame and more especially permission from the Emperor to open a theatre for the mechanical toys which. Takeda had exhibited publicly to earn a living.

  “After establishing the little theatre by the waterside and running it for some twelve years, Takeda left the operation of it to his young brother Kiyotaka (Takeda Omi II). The repertoire. is pictured in a lively manner in a little three-volume book published in 1730, Karakuri Kimmo Kagamigusa (‘Instruction in Kamakuri’) with woodcut illustrations by the well-known Ukiyo-e artist Kawaeda Toyonobu. The show was obviously intended mainly for adults although a few children are also watching the curious mixture of wizardry, trickery and mechanical expertise.

  “Among 28 separate items pictured in Karakuri Kimmo Kagamigusa some seem to have been worked by actual clockwork (always with wooden cogs and gear wheels) others by purely physical power, driven by running sand or water movement or even on a system of levers and pulleys.

  “One of the acts is a fortune-telling doll pointing in turn to portraits of different gods. From the snatch of conversation it is clear that this also involved a sort of lottery. One of the cleverest inventions was a little tumbling man: ‘An acrobatic doll that turned head over heels down three steps.’ This. seems to have inspired later European toymakers who were producing a miniature version based on the same idea by the end of the eighteenth century.

  “The fame of the theatre and these makers of automata spread, and through the first half of the eighteenth century there is reference to them in various books. Kagami Choja Kagami 1714 described a very rich man’s house and how it contained an artificial tiger made by Takeda Omi I. It blew wind from its mouth into the guest room when the weather was hot like a sort of automatic fan.

  “The Karakuri performances enjoyed such a vogue that competitors also opened up other theatres. A young man called Yasagoro was spoken of as an unrivalled master of the art in 1705 and especially good at ‘Water Magic:’ the close proximity of the river meant that wheels and machinery could be worked by water power.

  “With the second generation of Takeda Omi the mechanical devices were put to a more serious purpose. The great Japanese playwright Chikamatsu, who devised dramas in the classical tradition of the Kabuki stage, was no more than a child of eight when the Takeda theatre opened in 1662. By 1705 when he was already famous, we find Chikamatsu settling down as the playwright of another prosperous Osaka theatre, Takemoto, run by yet another member of the Takeda family (Takeda Izumo, himself a playwright). Instructions which accompany some of his plays include such comments as ‘Grand karakuri in which Princess Jamateru changes into a mermaid,’ or ‘Princess Ikoma’s spirit runs after Izuta along the pine tree branch. Grand karakuri will be shown in this scene.’ [Takeda Omi III had his greatest triumph in Edo (now Tokyo) in 1741.]

  “This was the
greatest performance in his lifetime and created such a furore that the crowd rushed his theatre and the doors were closed at opening time for three consecutive days. Apart from their skill in performance, the dolls must have been most beautifully constructed and attractive in appearance since they appealed to so many contemporary artists. But perhaps the public taste became more sophisticated. It is possible also that the standard of performance had deteriorated. We are told that by 1758 the theatre performed 27 programmes a day, starting at 8 in the morning and ending at 4 in the afternoon. By 1772 the last of the theatres had closed down and a tradition which had flourished for over 100 years died.

  “In modern times enthusiasts have skillfully reconstructed some of the toys after Takeda’s originals, and using the same materials, Professor Tatsukawa built a model of the tea-serving doll which worked so successfully it was given a programme on television.”

  Source: AUTOMATA AND MECHANICAL TOYS, an illustrated history by Mary Hillier. Bloomsbury Books, London 1976, 1988. ISBN 1 870630 27 0.

  Dead memory systems

  From Bradley O’Neill

  1. THERMAL MEMORIES

  “The idea of thermal memory was tried by A.D. Booth, who, through the lack of other suitable material being available in Britain after the Second World War, was forced to experiment with almost every physical property of matter in order to construct a working memory. The device was never put into production because of the inherent unreliability of the system.

  “Booth’s thermal memory consisted of a small drum whose chalk surface was capable of being heated by a series of small wires. These wires would locally heat a small portion of the surface of the drum and, as the drum rotated, these heated spots would pass in front of a series of heat detectors. When a hot spot was detected, it was immediately recycled back to the writing mechanism which would copy it onto a clean (cool) part of the drum. The back of the drum was cooled (erased) by a small fan so that, by the time the drum had rotated to a bring the same area under the heating wires again, a fresh surface was available to receive the recycled information.”