<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" ><generator uri="https://jekyllrb.com/" version="4.4.1">Jekyll</generator><link href="https://collopy.net/feed/research/California.xml" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" /><link href="https://collopy.net/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" /><updated>2026-09-29T18:07:47-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/feed/research/California.xml</id><title type="html">Peter Sachs Collopy</title><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><entry><title type="html">Joseph Gordon-Levitt Explores Where Film &amp;amp; Science Collide in LA</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Joseph Gordon-Levitt Explores Where Film &amp;amp; Science Collide in LA" /><published>2026-02-24T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2026-02-24T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2026/gordon-levitt/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

To celebrate the city of Los Angeles in the wake of last year's devastating fires, <cite>Architectural Digest</cite> asked a group of iconic Angelenos to share their favorite local places. This is Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s love letter to LA. The actor joins <cite>Architectural Digest</cite> at Caltech to explore how science, technology, and Hollywood filmmaking intersect in one of the world’s leading research institutions. From founding the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which helped with the first moon landings, and NASA continues to manage today, to astrophysicist Kip Thorne’s collaboration with Christopher Nolan on <cite>Interstellar</cite>, discover why Joseph Gordon-Levitt believes the relationship between art and science makes Los Angeles one of the most important cities for science, and vital to its future.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[To celebrate the city of Los Angeles in the wake of last year’s devastating fires, Architectural Digest asked a group of iconic Angelenos to share their favorite local places. This is Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s love letter to LA. The actor joins Architectural Digest at Caltech to explore how science, technology, and Hollywood filmmaking intersect in one of the world’s leading research institutions. From founding the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which helped with the first moon landings, and NASA continues to manage today, to astrophysicist Kip Thorne’s collaboration with Christopher Nolan on Interstellar, discover why Joseph Gordon-Levitt believes the relationship between art and science makes Los Angeles one of the most important cities for science, and vital to its future.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Electrifying Los Angeles</title><link href="https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Electrifying Los Angeles" /><published>2026-01-08T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2026-01-08T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/teaching/2026/electrifying/"><![CDATA[<p>This term we will be exploring the meteoric rise of modern Los Angeles through two lenses: the history of its energy infrastructure and of our own institution, Caltech. These two histories intertwine in multiple ways, in the form of big personalities, grand ambitions, and feats of technical bravado. But innumerable smaller, less-visible parts of Caltech and Southern California history also play vital roles in the shaping of this region and our home institution. To trace these stories, large and small, we will be turning to the Caltech Archives and the digital collections of The Huntington Library. You will be learning how to research and communicate the history of archival objects, culminating in a final “group exhibition” of your curated pieces.</p>
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<h3>Schedule of Class Topics and Readings</h3>

<ul>
	<li>
		<h4>January 8: Caltech and Its Archives</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Mike Davis, <cite>City of Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles</cite> (Verso, 1990), 54–62.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 15: Thinking Critically About Infrastructure</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Langdon Winner, “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20024652">Do Artifacts Have Politics?</a>” <cite>Daedelus</cite> 190 (1980): 121–136.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 22: Electrifying America</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>David E. Nye, <cite>Electrifying America: Social Meanings of a New Technology, 1880–1940</cite> (MIT Press, 1992), ix–xi, 85–137.</li>
			<li>Explore the <a href="https://hdl.huntington.org/digital/collection/p16003coll2/search/order/date/ad/asc">Southern California Edison Photographs and Negatives</a> via the Huntington Digital Library.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>January 29: Big Creek and the High Voltage Research Laboratory</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Donald C. Jackson, <cite>Building the Ultimate Dam: John S. Eastman and the Control of Water in the West</cite> (University Press of Kansas, 1995), 59–83.</li>
			<li>Peter Sachs Collopy, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpmJstUFd2Y">Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives</a>,” Caltech Physics Colloquium, January 13, 2022.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 5: Gordon Kaufmann at Caltech</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, “<a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/3639569">Designing for the Genders: Curricula and Architecture at Scripps College and the California Institute of Technology</a>,” <cite>Pacific Historical Review</cite> 54 (1985): 439–461.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 12: Hoover Dam and the Technological Sublime</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>David E. Nye, <cite>American Technological Sublime</cite> (MIT Press, 1994), 133–142.</li>
			<li>Donald Worster, <cite>Under Western Skies: Nature and History in the American West</cite> (Oxford University Press, 1992), 64–78.</li>
			<li>Joan Didion, “At the Dam,” originally published as “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=qVAEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA20">A Piece of Work for Now and Doomsday</a>,” <cite>Life</cite>, March 13, 1970, 20B.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 19: Electric Los Angeles</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Daniel L. Wuebben, <cite>Power Lined: Electricity, Landscape, and the American Mind</cite> (University of Nebraska Press, 2019), 87–129.</li>
			<li>Visit from Prof. Brian Jacobson.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>February 26</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>No class: independent Archives visits</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>March 4: <cite>Chinatown</cite> screening</h4>
	</li>
	<li>
		<h4>March 5: River Futures</h4>
		<ul>
			<li>Vittoria di Palma and Alexander Robinson, “<a href="https://placesjournal.org/article/willful-waters-los-angeles-river/">Willful Waters</a>,” <cite>Places</cite>, May 2018.</li>
			<li>Visit from Dr. Nick Earhart.</li>
		</ul>
	</li>
</ul>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="teaching" /><category term="science" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="politics" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><category term="visual culture" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[This term we will be exploring the meteoric rise of modern Los Angeles through two lenses: the history of its energy infrastructure and of our own institution, Caltech. These two histories intertwine in multiple ways, in the form of big personalities, grand ambitions, and feats of technical bravado. But innumerable smaller, less-visible parts of Caltech and Southern California history also play vital roles in the shaping of this region and our home institution. To trace these stories, large and small, we will be turning to the Caltech Archives and the digital collections of The Huntington Library. You will be learning how to research and communicate the history of archival objects, culminating in a final “group exhibition” of your curated pieces.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Beckmans at Caltech, 1923–1939</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Beckmans at Caltech, 1923–1939" /><published>2025-06-10T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-10T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2025/beckmans/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

From 1923 to 1939, Arnold Beckman was first a graduate student and then a professor at Caltech. Peter Sachs Collopy, PhD discusses Arnold and Mabel Beckman’s relationships with Caltech and how Caltech changed during this period.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="electronics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[From 1923 to 1939, Arnold Beckman was first a graduate student and then a professor at Caltech. Peter Sachs Collopy, PhD discusses Arnold and Mabel Beckman’s relationships with Caltech and how Caltech changed during this period.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Art and Science at Caltech: Four Histories</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Art and Science at Caltech: Four Histories" /><published>2024-12-14T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2024-12-14T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2024/art-and-science/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

The *Crossing Over* exhibition, which unfolds across three independent spaces on the Caltech campus, draws on the research of 12 scholars in the visual culture of Caltech science. Their collective work is captured in the exhibit and a companion exhibition catalog that weave together the history of science with historical and contemporary art.

In a discussion, moderated by Caltech archivist Peter Sachs Collopy, four of the contributing scholars discuss the many forms of collaboration between art and science: from drawings of molecules to the architecture of the Caltech campus itself, and in the context of films, from a Frank Capra television special on subatomic particles to how outer space is illustrated by scientists and engineers at JPL and producers in Hollywood.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="art" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="media" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[The Crossing Over exhibition, which unfolds across three independent spaces on the Caltech campus, draws on the research of 12 scholars in the visual culture of Caltech science. Their collective work is captured in the exhibit and a companion exhibition catalog that weave together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. In a discussion, moderated by Caltech archivist Peter Sachs Collopy, four of the contributing scholars discuss the many forms of collaboration between art and science: from drawings of molecules to the architecture of the Caltech campus itself, and in the context of films, from a Frank Capra television special on subatomic particles to how outer space is illustrated by scientists and engineers at JPL and producers in Hollywood.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Passing in the Hallway: Art and Technology at Caltech, 1968–1972</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Passing in the Hallway: Art and Technology at Caltech, 1968–1972" /><published>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/passing-in-the-hallway/"><![CDATA[In 1969, Caltech converted seven rooms in its defunct Earhart Plant Research Laboratory into an art studio, hosting artists who worked in the media of plastics and computer animation. In the long 1960s, artists and scientists embraced each others’ professional practices, and universities created new centers for art and technology. Artists and scientists did not come to these new programs with the same motivations and expectations. Many artists were interested in synthesizing art with science and engineering, but most scientists and engineers who engaged in art were seeking a break from their technical work rather than a different mode of it, making genuine collaboration the exception rather than the rule.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="art" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="computing" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="media" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="California" /><category term="education" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1969, Caltech converted seven rooms in its defunct Earhart Plant Research Laboratory into an art studio, hosting artists who worked in the media of plastics and computer animation. In the long 1960s, artists and scientists embraced each others’ professional practices, and universities created new centers for art and technology. Artists and scientists did not come to these new programs with the same motivations and expectations. Many artists were interested in synthesizing art with science and engineering, but most scientists and engineers who engaged in art were seeking a break from their technical work rather than a different mode of it, making genuine collaboration the exception rather than the rule.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020" /><published>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-10-17T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2024/crossing-over/"><![CDATA[Science is as much a visual practice as a textual or quantitative one. For centuries, scientists have used microscopes, telescopes, painting, illustration, printing, and photography to perceive nature and communicate what they see in it, often in collaboration with artists. In the twentieth century, scientists also came to view creativity as an essential resource and looked to art to foster it.

*Crossing Over* is an interdisciplinary publication that looks at one prominent university—the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) in Pasadena—as a site for scientific and artistic image production. Uncovering the rich pictorial record embedded in its Archives and Special Collections, a team of visual culture scholars examines Caltech through a series of tightly focused case studies. How, the authors ask, have science and engineering institutions like Caltech used scientific representation, art, and architecture to construct themselves and produce discovery and invention? This book reveals new facets of life and work at Caltech that will be illuminating even to those familiar with the school, showcasing views that informed—and were informed by—the vibrant visual culture of Southern California.

This volume was published to accompany [an exhibition](/exhibits/2024/crossing-over) on view at the California Institute of Technology from September 27 to December 15, 2024. It was a [finalist](https://www.collegeart.org/news/2025/11/13/announcing-the-2026-morey-book-award-and-barr-awards-shortlists/) for the College Art Association’s 2026 Alfred H. Barr Jr. Award for Smaller Museums, Libraries, Collections, and Exhibitions.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="art" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="biology" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="computing" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="geology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="media" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="war" /><category term="California" /><category term="education" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Science is as much a visual practice as a textual or quantitative one. For centuries, scientists have used microscopes, telescopes, painting, illustration, printing, and photography to perceive nature and communicate what they see in it, often in collaboration with artists. In the twentieth century, scientists also came to view creativity as an essential resource and looked to art to foster it. Crossing Over is an interdisciplinary publication that looks at one prominent university—the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) in Pasadena—as a site for scientific and artistic image production. Uncovering the rich pictorial record embedded in its Archives and Special Collections, a team of visual culture scholars examines Caltech through a series of tightly focused case studies. How, the authors ask, have science and engineering institutions like Caltech used scientific representation, art, and architecture to construct themselves and produce discovery and invention? This book reveals new facets of life and work at Caltech that will be illuminating even to those familiar with the school, showcasing views that informed—and were informed by—the vibrant visual culture of Southern California. This volume was published to accompany an exhibition on view at the California Institute of Technology from September 27 to December 15, 2024. It was a finalist for the College Art Association’s 2026 Alfred H. Barr Jr. Award for Smaller Museums, Libraries, Collections, and Exhibitions.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Crossing Over: Art and Science at Caltech, 1920–2020" /><published>2024-09-27T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-27T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2024/crossing-over/"><![CDATA[*Crossing Over* was an expansive public exhibition that wove together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. How, it asked, have scientists and engineers used images and collaborated with artists to discover, invent, and communicate? How have artists been inspired by Caltech science? Spread across six sites at Caltech, the exhibition featured displays of over 200 objects, most drawn from the Caltech Archives and Special Collections, including rare books, paintings, drawings, photographs, scientific instruments, molecular models, and video.

September 27 – December 15, 2024

<a href="https://www.archpaper.com/2025/12/honorable-mentions-2025-best-of-design-awards/">Honorable mention</a> for <cite>The Architect’s Newspaper</cite>’s 2025 Best of Design Award for Exhibition Design and <a href="https://winners.architizer.com/2026/Sustainability/built-3/sustainable-interior-project-3/">finalist</a> for the 2026 Architizer A+ Award for a Sustainable Interior Project, both for design by Tim Durfee Studio.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="art" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="astronomy" /><category term="biology" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="geology" /><category term="physics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="technology" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Crossing Over was an expansive public exhibition that wove together the history of science with historical and contemporary art. How, it asked, have scientists and engineers used images and collaborated with artists to discover, invent, and communicate? How have artists been inspired by Caltech science? Spread across six sites at Caltech, the exhibition featured displays of over 200 objects, most drawn from the Caltech Archives and Special Collections, including rare books, paintings, drawings, photographs, scientific instruments, molecular models, and video. September 27 – December 15, 2024 Honorable mention for The Architect’s Newspaper’s 2025 Best of Design Award for Exhibition Design and finalist for the 2026 Architizer A+ Award for a Sustainable Interior Project, both for design by Tim Durfee Studio.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">“Video Is as Powerful as LSD”: Electronics and Psychedelics as Technologies of Consciousness</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="“Video Is as Powerful as LSD”: Electronics and Psychedelics as Technologies of Consciousness" /><published>2023-11-21T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2023-11-21T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2023/video-is-as-powerful-as-lsd/"><![CDATA[<p>In the middle of the twentieth century, the invention and availability of new psychedelic drugs, and the growing cultural discourse around them, coincided with those of television, videotape, and computing. The technologies of psychedelics and electronics grew up together, and those using or thinking about one often implicated the other. When Sony and other Japanese manufacturers developed new portable videotape recorders in the late 1960s, for example, new communities of artists and tinkerers emerged around them, first in the US and Canada and then in Europe, Asia, North Africa, and Latin America. For the first time, declared these enthusiasts, many people could make their own television, breaking the broadcast oligopoly. In describing the psychological and sociological implications of this new technology, many compared it to psychedelic drugs.<p>

<p class="translation">A mediados del siglo XX, la invención y disponibilidad de nuevas drogas psicodélicas, y el creciente discurso cultural en torno a ellas, coincidieron con los de la televisión, las cintas de vídeo y la informática. Las tecnologías psicodélicas y la electrónica crecieron juntas, y quienes usaban o pensaban en una a menudo implicaban a la otra. Cuando Sony y otros fabricantes japoneses desarrollaron nuevos magnetoscopios portátiles a finales de los años sesenta, por ejemplo, surgieron nuevas comunidades de artistas a su alrededor, primero en Estados Unidos y Canadá, y después en Europa, Asia, el norte de África y América Latina. Por primera vez, declararon estos entusiastas, mucha gente podía hacer su propia televisión, rompiendo el oligopolio de la radiodifusión. Al describir las implicaciones psicológicas y sociológicas de esta nueva tecnología, muchos la compararon con las drogas psicodélicas.</p>]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="video" /><category term="synthesizers" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="science" /><category term="biology" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="art" /><category term="psychiatry" /><category term="California" /><category term="New York" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the middle of the twentieth century, the invention and availability of new psychedelic drugs, and the growing cultural discourse around them, coincided with those of television, videotape, and computing. The technologies of psychedelics and electronics grew up together, and those using or thinking about one often implicated the other. When Sony and other Japanese manufacturers developed new portable videotape recorders in the late 1960s, for example, new communities of artists and tinkerers emerged around them, first in the US and Canada and then in Europe, Asia, North Africa, and Latin America. For the first time, declared these enthusiasts, many people could make their own television, breaking the broadcast oligopoly. In describing the psychological and sociological implications of this new technology, many compared it to psychedelic drugs. A mediados del siglo XX, la invención y disponibilidad de nuevas drogas psicodélicas, y el creciente discurso cultural en torno a ellas, coincidieron con los de la televisión, las cintas de vídeo y la informática. Las tecnologías psicodélicas y la electrónica crecieron juntas, y quienes usaban o pensaban en una a menudo implicaban a la otra. Cuando Sony y otros fabricantes japoneses desarrollaron nuevos magnetoscopios portátiles a finales de los años sesenta, por ejemplo, surgieron nuevas comunidades de artistas a su alrededor, primero en Estados Unidos y Canadá, y después en Europa, Asia, el norte de África y América Latina. Por primera vez, declararon estos entusiastas, mucha gente podía hacer su propia televisión, rompiendo el oligopolio de la radiodifusión. Al describir las implicaciones psicológicas y sociológicas de esta nueva tecnología, muchos la compararon con las drogas psicodélicas.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Behind the Book: Escape from Earth</title><link href="https://collopy.net/discussions/2022/escape-from-earth/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Behind the Book: Escape from Earth" /><published>2022-03-24T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2022-03-24T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/discussions/2022/escape-from-earth</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/discussions/2022/escape-from-earth/"><![CDATA[]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="discussions" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="politics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="communism" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Iterating Infrastructure from High Volts to X-Rays to Nuclear Physics: Early Caltech Science in the Archives" /><published>2022-01-13T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2022-01-13T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2022/iterating-infrastructure/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In the 1920s and 1930s, Caltech iteratively developed infrastructure for research on high-voltage electricity, x-rays, and nuclear physics. In 1923, the Institute built the High Voltage Research Laboratory, now the Ronald and Maxine Lind Hall of Mathematics and Physics, with funding from Southern California Edison, which used the unique million-volt high-bay research facility to test high-voltage transmission equipment. Among Caltech's faculty, electrical engineer Royal Sorensen invented the cascade transformer for the facility, and physicist Robert Millikan planned to use its power to dismantle the atom and achieve the alchemists' dream of transmutation of matter. Instead, though, Millikan's student Charles Lauritsen made High Volts a key site for high-voltage x-ray research, including on the uses of radiation therapy for cancer, bringing medical physics to Caltech in the early 1930s. Lauritsen and his students in turn modified their x-ray tubes to conduct research in nuclear physics, realizing Millikan's vision of deconstructing the atom. These three research programs built on each other, repurposing apparatus and thus ultimately the resources of the electricity industry to develop experimental physics in new directions. In this talk, I will use this early history of Caltech physics to think about both how research programs are shaped by the material resources of earlier projects and what we can learn from the collections of the Caltech Archives.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="physics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="technology" /><category term="science" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the 1920s and 1930s, Caltech iteratively developed infrastructure for research on high-voltage electricity, x-rays, and nuclear physics. In 1923, the Institute built the High Voltage Research Laboratory, now the Ronald and Maxine Lind Hall of Mathematics and Physics, with funding from Southern California Edison, which used the unique million-volt high-bay research facility to test high-voltage transmission equipment. Among Caltech’s faculty, electrical engineer Royal Sorensen invented the cascade transformer for the facility, and physicist Robert Millikan planned to use its power to dismantle the atom and achieve the alchemists’ dream of transmutation of matter. Instead, though, Millikan’s student Charles Lauritsen made High Volts a key site for high-voltage x-ray research, including on the uses of radiation therapy for cancer, bringing medical physics to Caltech in the early 1930s. Lauritsen and his students in turn modified their x-ray tubes to conduct research in nuclear physics, realizing Millikan’s vision of deconstructing the atom. These three research programs built on each other, repurposing apparatus and thus ultimately the resources of the electricity industry to develop experimental physics in new directions. In this talk, I will use this early history of Caltech physics to think about both how research programs are shaped by the material resources of earlier projects and what we can learn from the collections of the Caltech Archives.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Caltech’s House of Lightning</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Caltech’s House of Lightning" /><published>2020-10-08T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-10-08T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/house-of-lightning/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In 1923, Caltech and Southern California Edison Company built the High Voltage Research Laboratory to test high-voltage equipment and conduct research in physics and electrical engineering. Designed by architect Bertram Goodhue, with sculpture by Lee Lawrie, it became home to electrical demonstrations and research on x-rays and nuclear physics.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="physics" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In 1923, Caltech and Southern California Edison Company built the High Voltage Research Laboratory to test high-voltage equipment and conduct research in physics and electrical engineering. Designed by architect Bertram Goodhue, with sculpture by Lee Lawrie, it became home to electrical demonstrations and research on x-rays and nuclear physics.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Sitting Down with Uncomfortable Things in the Caltech Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Sitting Down with Uncomfortable Things in the Caltech Archives" /><published>2020-10-02T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-10-02T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/uncomfortable-things/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

In this event, members of the Caltech community presented their reflections on a collection of digitized materials curated from the Caltech Archives. The “uncomfortable things” selected for this discussion were artifacts of experiences of exclusion, inequality, discrimination, and bigotry in the history of Caltech. In this session, we acknowledged that the legacy of Caltech is intertwined with stories of injustice. By asking participants to personally reflect on that legacy, this event highlighted how there is no single solution or perspective sufficient to answer the multitude of questions and concerns that our community has about its history.

This event took place on October 2, 2020 as part of the series “Critical Intersections: Conversations on History, Race, and Science,” sponsored by the Caltech Division of the Humanities and Social Sciences.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="eugenics" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="politics" /><category term="science" /><category term="conservatism" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="education" /><category term="white supremacy" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In this event, members of the Caltech community presented their reflections on a collection of digitized materials curated from the Caltech Archives. The “uncomfortable things” selected for this discussion were artifacts of experiences of exclusion, inequality, discrimination, and bigotry in the history of Caltech. In this session, we acknowledged that the legacy of Caltech is intertwined with stories of injustice. By asking participants to personally reflect on that legacy, this event highlighted how there is no single solution or perspective sufficient to answer the multitude of questions and concerns that our community has about its history. This event took place on October 2, 2020 as part of the series “Critical Intersections: Conversations on History, Race, and Science,” sponsored by the Caltech Division of the Humanities and Social Sciences.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Ready, Set, Spark</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Ready, Set, Spark" /><published>2020-08-13T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-08-13T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2020/ready-set-spark/"><![CDATA[When Caltech's former Sloan Lab reopened in January 2019 as the Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics, staff, faculty, and students encountered a structure with a transformed interior that was originally built 97 years ago. Over the course of a century, it has witnessed many changes, evolving to suit the needs of the disciplines it has served: physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. In its earliest years, the building was known by several names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory and High Voltage Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It came into being out of a partnership between Caltech and the Southern California Edison (SCE) company, which contributed money to its construction in exchange for use of it for research. SCE had recently decided to change its transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. The lines and associated equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so SCE wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="physics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[When Caltech’s former Sloan Lab reopened in January 2019 as the Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics, staff, faculty, and students encountered a structure with a transformed interior that was originally built 97 years ago. Over the course of a century, it has witnessed many changes, evolving to suit the needs of the disciplines it has served: physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. In its earliest years, the building was known by several names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory and High Voltage Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It came into being out of a partnership between Caltech and the Southern California Edison (SCE) company, which contributed money to its construction in exchange for use of it for research. SCE had recently decided to change its transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. The lines and associated equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so SCE wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">From High Volts to High Energy Physics</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="From High Volts to High Energy Physics" /><published>2020-07-23T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-07-23T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/from-high-volts/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

Last year, Caltech rededicated a building on its campus following a major renovation. The Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory for Mathematics and Physics became the Ronald and Maxine Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics. Linde Hall occupies a structure which is now 97 years old and has evolved over that time with the disciplines of physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering.

The building, constructed in 1923, originally had a few names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory, High Voltage Research Laboratory, and High Potential Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It was the fifth permanent building constructed on Caltech’s campus, after Throop Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, Culbertson Auditorium, and the Norman Bridge Laboratory of Physics.

Astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, as a Caltech trustee, conceived of the laboratory as part of a strategy of persuading experimentalist Robert Millikan to come to Caltech. Millikan was tortured—his word, not mine—by his decision of whether to come to Caltech or stay at the University of Chicago. Hale’s fellow trustees Henry M. Robinson and Arthur Fleming—both of whom became namesakes of buildings on campus—were also on the board of directors of the local electric company, Southern California Edison.

Hale proposed to them that if the Edison Company bought Caltech a new laboratory, both parties would benefit: “I believe the Company would get its money back in the form of new information regarding insulation and other problems connected with high voltage lines, not to speak of the advertising value.” He was right: The company's interest came from a decision they made around 1920 to change their transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. Such lines and associated insulators, transformers, circuit breakers, and other equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so the Edison Company wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory. The lab cost $139,915, of which Edison paid $105,000.

The design of High Volts was also a collaboration. Millikan provided specifications, including a requirement that the building have ventilation to allow ozone to escape but also not let in light. The interior was dominated by a single large industrial space packed with high-voltage apparatus, including two key pieces of million-volt equipment. A million-volt surge generator produced rapid impulses of artificial lightning. In addition, Royal Sorensen, who founded electrical engineering at Caltech when he was hired in 1910, invented the cascade transformer in 1922 (an innovation which was simultaneously made by others in Germany) and designed a million-volt model, composed of four 250,000 volt transformers built by Westinghouse which each weighed 22 tons, for High Volts; it stepped an externally-supplied 15,000 volts up to a million volts of continuous current. Edison engineers designed a steel frame, the second constructed in Pasadena, and prominent architect Bertram Goodhue designed the exterior, which used a diamond pattern to provide texture in the absence of windows. The similarly prominent architectural sculptor Lee Lawrie produced a relief over the entry which conveyed the high voltage research performed within.

Sorensen regularly gave a public lecture and demonstration on high voltage electricity, with the latter portion taking place in High Volts. “It proved to have its usual strong draw this year when, on a rainy Friday evening, almost 1000 people stormed East Bridge,” reported *Engineering and Science*, Caltech’s research magazine, in 1949. “Prof. Sorensen obligingly gave his lecture twice, and the lab ran off three demonstrations, while a special police detail coped with the crush.”

In [his oral history](http://resolver.caltech.edu/CaltechOH:OH_Roberts_J), Caltech chemistry professor John Roberts recalls visiting Caltech as a teenager for these demonstrations:

>The High Voltage Lab was a fabulous attraction. What is now the Sloan building then had no windows in it. It was deep down inside—just a great big basement-like room with no upper floors. And they had these big girders up at the top. The floor of this room was filled with all kinds of electrical equipment—enormous transformers, and condensers, and so on, big swooping insulators. It looked like Frankenstein’s laboratory. Great transformers topped with big mushroom rings, you know, they used to shoot sparks off of.… They’d have a “horn gap,” where a pair of wires would be close together at the top of the transformer and far apart at the top of the room. They would start an arc at the bottom and it would grow in length and rise to the ceiling. That was really impressive to watch as the arcs got up to the ceiling, and then crack, and disappear. They’d make this crackling noise as they’d go up. And then they’d charge up the condensers and shoot off big sparks, and blow up some blocks of wood, and stuff like that.

According to the February 1949 issue of *Engineering and Science*, “these facilities have been used to aid Southern California Edison in the development of high voltage transmission lines, to furnish lightning protection of oil storage tanks for the oil industry, to test insulators for numerous utility companies.” The transmission lines tested at High Volts made it possible to transmit electricity to Southern California from the Hoover Dam in Nevada. Among the significant inventions of the lab was a vacuum switch designed by Sorensen and Millikan which was manufactured for aircraft and other industries.

Going back to 1921, though, as Hale saw it in his letter to his fellow trustees, though, High Volts would have an entirely different benefit for the physicist he was trying to recruit. “Millikan,” he wrote, “would also have the advantage of using enormous voltage to bust up some of his atoms. This possibility, which no other laboratory could match, is what excites him.… When a man gets on the trail of the philosopher's stone, even if he isn't after gold, you can accomplish a great deal by offering it to him!”

Millikan's interest did indeed come from his interest in taking apart atoms and discovering what they were made of. He was also seeking, as Hale's reference to the philosopher's stone suggests, to transmute matter from one element to another by reconstructing the nucleus. In 1904, Millikan had already written that “the dreams of the ancient alchemists are true, for the radioactive elements all appear to be slowly but spontaneously transmuting themselves into other elements.” In 1912, he believed he and his student George Winchester produced hydrogen ions from aluminum using high-voltage electricity. In 1919, Ernest Rutherford persuaded more physicists that he had caused nitrogen atoms to eject protons by bombarding them with alpha particles. Several scientists claimed they had turned various metals into gold in the 1920s using electricity—it was a renaissance of alchemy.

Although Millikan submitted a grant proposal for support for this research in 1921, and although he, Hale, and Caltech as an institution occasionally referred to the High Voltage Laboratory as intended for investigations inside the atom, Millikan never published the results of his efforts to transmute matter at Caltech, nor can evidence of it be found in his surviving laboratory notebooks. In his article on the subject, historian Robert Kargon, suggests that “these efforts may have in fact been made but were unsuccessful,” adding that Millikan “preferred to bury quietly unfruitful enterprises; he position as fundraiser for an exciting new research center made such unpublicized interment a practical necessity.” Ultimately, then, the new lab would find other uses.

Charles Lauritsen, who received his PhD from Caltech in 1929 and remained here for the rest of his career, made High Volts a key site for high-voltage X-ray research, building the first million-volt X-ray tube there in about 1930. Lauritsen soon became interested in the medical applications of this device, writing in his patent application that “radiations substantially the frequency of the gamma radiation from radium may be obtained from the tube” and that “such tubes can therefore be employed as the full equivalent of radium in the treatment of disease, or for therapeutic purposes.”

Although Caltech biologists steered clear of medical applications at this time, its physicists did not. Millikan enlisted local physician Seeley G. Mudd, whose mother was already donating a geology building to the Institute in memory of his father, mining tycoon Seeley W. Mudd. That building is now typically called North Mudd, as the younger Mudd later donated an associated building named after himself as well, South Mudd. I for one didn't realize until I was preparing this talk that the two buildings are named after two different men.

To return to our story, Millikan enlisted the younger Mudd in a partnership researching the therapeutic effects of Lauritsen's million-volt x-ray tube compared to lower voltage radiation already available in hospitals, and the Los Angeles County General Hospital began to bring cancer patients to High Volts for radiation therapy. Although he was independently wealthy and didn't receive a salary, and indeed donated money as well as his time to the project, Caltech appointed Mudd became Research Associate in Radiation, and later, in 1935, Professor of X-Ray Therapy. Physician Clyde Emery was made Assistant Professor of X-Ray Therapy at the same time. Caltech's medical physics research was so active that it became one of the main reasons for the Institute to construct a new building, Kellogg Radiation Laboratory, in 1932.

Meanwhile, Lauritsen’s students, funded by their work maintaining x-ray tubes for radiation therapy, began modifying High Volts equipment for nuclear physics, making Millikan's vision of deconstructing the atom there a reality; H. Richard Crane, for example, produced neutrons by ion beam for the first time in the early 1930s. “The transmutation of the elements, now an accomplished fact,” wrote Millikan to their funder, W. K. Kellogg, “plus artificial radioactivity, plus neutron beams—all three effects producible by Lauritsen tubes—plus the manifold uses of ultra-short wireless waves, therapeutic and otherwise, open up endless opportunities.”

As with many research programs, radiation therapy came to an end at Caltech when funders—not only Kellogg but also the National Academy of Sciences’ National Cancer Advisory Council and the Childs Foundation, decided to stop funding it. In the early 1940s, Kellogg was dramatically repurposed for research on rocketry as the US prepared to enter World War II.

High Volts retained its unusual, single-room architecture until 1960, when Caltech renovated it into the Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory of Mathematics and Physics, producing a more conventional internal structure, with windows and five floors of space, including new basements, rather than a single large room. By this point, it had had a storied career contributing to electrical engineering, nuclear physics, radiation therapy, spectacular public demonstrations, and even science we might call alchemy.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="physics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="science" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Last year, Caltech rededicated a building on its campus following a major renovation. The Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory for Mathematics and Physics became the Ronald and Maxine Linde Hall of Mathematics and Physics. Linde Hall occupies a structure which is now 97 years old and has evolved over that time with the disciplines of physics, mathematics, and electrical engineering. The building, constructed in 1923, originally had a few names, including Edison High Tension Laboratory, High Voltage Research Laboratory, and High Potential Research Laboratory, but was generally referred to as High Volts. It was the fifth permanent building constructed on Caltech’s campus, after Throop Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, Culbertson Auditorium, and the Norman Bridge Laboratory of Physics. Astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, as a Caltech trustee, conceived of the laboratory as part of a strategy of persuading experimentalist Robert Millikan to come to Caltech. Millikan was tortured—his word, not mine—by his decision of whether to come to Caltech or stay at the University of Chicago. Hale’s fellow trustees Henry M. Robinson and Arthur Fleming—both of whom became namesakes of buildings on campus—were also on the board of directors of the local electric company, Southern California Edison. Hale proposed to them that if the Edison Company bought Caltech a new laboratory, both parties would benefit: “I believe the Company would get its money back in the form of new information regarding insulation and other problems connected with high voltage lines, not to speak of the advertising value.” He was right: The company’s interest came from a decision they made around 1920 to change their transmission lines from 150,000 to 220,000 volts. Such lines and associated insulators, transformers, circuit breakers, and other equipment would need to be able to withstand a massive surge if they were struck by lightning, so the Edison Company wanted to conduct research at a million volts, a higher voltage than could be reliably produced by any existing American laboratory. The lab cost $139,915, of which Edison paid $105,000. The design of High Volts was also a collaboration. Millikan provided specifications, including a requirement that the building have ventilation to allow ozone to escape but also not let in light. The interior was dominated by a single large industrial space packed with high-voltage apparatus, including two key pieces of million-volt equipment. A million-volt surge generator produced rapid impulses of artificial lightning. In addition, Royal Sorensen, who founded electrical engineering at Caltech when he was hired in 1910, invented the cascade transformer in 1922 (an innovation which was simultaneously made by others in Germany) and designed a million-volt model, composed of four 250,000 volt transformers built by Westinghouse which each weighed 22 tons, for High Volts; it stepped an externally-supplied 15,000 volts up to a million volts of continuous current. Edison engineers designed a steel frame, the second constructed in Pasadena, and prominent architect Bertram Goodhue designed the exterior, which used a diamond pattern to provide texture in the absence of windows. The similarly prominent architectural sculptor Lee Lawrie produced a relief over the entry which conveyed the high voltage research performed within. Sorensen regularly gave a public lecture and demonstration on high voltage electricity, with the latter portion taking place in High Volts. “It proved to have its usual strong draw this year when, on a rainy Friday evening, almost 1000 people stormed East Bridge,” reported Engineering and Science, Caltech’s research magazine, in 1949. “Prof. Sorensen obligingly gave his lecture twice, and the lab ran off three demonstrations, while a special police detail coped with the crush.” In his oral history, Caltech chemistry professor John Roberts recalls visiting Caltech as a teenager for these demonstrations: The High Voltage Lab was a fabulous attraction. What is now the Sloan building then had no windows in it. It was deep down inside—just a great big basement-like room with no upper floors. And they had these big girders up at the top. The floor of this room was filled with all kinds of electrical equipment—enormous transformers, and condensers, and so on, big swooping insulators. It looked like Frankenstein’s laboratory. Great transformers topped with big mushroom rings, you know, they used to shoot sparks off of.… They’d have a “horn gap,” where a pair of wires would be close together at the top of the transformer and far apart at the top of the room. They would start an arc at the bottom and it would grow in length and rise to the ceiling. That was really impressive to watch as the arcs got up to the ceiling, and then crack, and disappear. They’d make this crackling noise as they’d go up. And then they’d charge up the condensers and shoot off big sparks, and blow up some blocks of wood, and stuff like that. According to the February 1949 issue of Engineering and Science, “these facilities have been used to aid Southern California Edison in the development of high voltage transmission lines, to furnish lightning protection of oil storage tanks for the oil industry, to test insulators for numerous utility companies.” The transmission lines tested at High Volts made it possible to transmit electricity to Southern California from the Hoover Dam in Nevada. Among the significant inventions of the lab was a vacuum switch designed by Sorensen and Millikan which was manufactured for aircraft and other industries. Going back to 1921, though, as Hale saw it in his letter to his fellow trustees, though, High Volts would have an entirely different benefit for the physicist he was trying to recruit. “Millikan,” he wrote, “would also have the advantage of using enormous voltage to bust up some of his atoms. This possibility, which no other laboratory could match, is what excites him.… When a man gets on the trail of the philosopher’s stone, even if he isn’t after gold, you can accomplish a great deal by offering it to him!” Millikan’s interest did indeed come from his interest in taking apart atoms and discovering what they were made of. He was also seeking, as Hale’s reference to the philosopher’s stone suggests, to transmute matter from one element to another by reconstructing the nucleus. In 1904, Millikan had already written that “the dreams of the ancient alchemists are true, for the radioactive elements all appear to be slowly but spontaneously transmuting themselves into other elements.” In 1912, he believed he and his student George Winchester produced hydrogen ions from aluminum using high-voltage electricity. In 1919, Ernest Rutherford persuaded more physicists that he had caused nitrogen atoms to eject protons by bombarding them with alpha particles. Several scientists claimed they had turned various metals into gold in the 1920s using electricity—it was a renaissance of alchemy. Although Millikan submitted a grant proposal for support for this research in 1921, and although he, Hale, and Caltech as an institution occasionally referred to the High Voltage Laboratory as intended for investigations inside the atom, Millikan never published the results of his efforts to transmute matter at Caltech, nor can evidence of it be found in his surviving laboratory notebooks. In his article on the subject, historian Robert Kargon, suggests that “these efforts may have in fact been made but were unsuccessful,” adding that Millikan “preferred to bury quietly unfruitful enterprises; he position as fundraiser for an exciting new research center made such unpublicized interment a practical necessity.” Ultimately, then, the new lab would find other uses. Charles Lauritsen, who received his PhD from Caltech in 1929 and remained here for the rest of his career, made High Volts a key site for high-voltage X-ray research, building the first million-volt X-ray tube there in about 1930. Lauritsen soon became interested in the medical applications of this device, writing in his patent application that “radiations substantially the frequency of the gamma radiation from radium may be obtained from the tube” and that “such tubes can therefore be employed as the full equivalent of radium in the treatment of disease, or for therapeutic purposes.” Although Caltech biologists steered clear of medical applications at this time, its physicists did not. Millikan enlisted local physician Seeley G. Mudd, whose mother was already donating a geology building to the Institute in memory of his father, mining tycoon Seeley W. Mudd. That building is now typically called North Mudd, as the younger Mudd later donated an associated building named after himself as well, South Mudd. I for one didn’t realize until I was preparing this talk that the two buildings are named after two different men. To return to our story, Millikan enlisted the younger Mudd in a partnership researching the therapeutic effects of Lauritsen’s million-volt x-ray tube compared to lower voltage radiation already available in hospitals, and the Los Angeles County General Hospital began to bring cancer patients to High Volts for radiation therapy. Although he was independently wealthy and didn’t receive a salary, and indeed donated money as well as his time to the project, Caltech appointed Mudd became Research Associate in Radiation, and later, in 1935, Professor of X-Ray Therapy. Physician Clyde Emery was made Assistant Professor of X-Ray Therapy at the same time. Caltech’s medical physics research was so active that it became one of the main reasons for the Institute to construct a new building, Kellogg Radiation Laboratory, in 1932. Meanwhile, Lauritsen’s students, funded by their work maintaining x-ray tubes for radiation therapy, began modifying High Volts equipment for nuclear physics, making Millikan’s vision of deconstructing the atom there a reality; H. Richard Crane, for example, produced neutrons by ion beam for the first time in the early 1930s. “The transmutation of the elements, now an accomplished fact,” wrote Millikan to their funder, W. K. Kellogg, “plus artificial radioactivity, plus neutron beams—all three effects producible by Lauritsen tubes—plus the manifold uses of ultra-short wireless waves, therapeutic and otherwise, open up endless opportunities.” As with many research programs, radiation therapy came to an end at Caltech when funders—not only Kellogg but also the National Academy of Sciences’ National Cancer Advisory Council and the Childs Foundation, decided to stop funding it. In the early 1940s, Kellogg was dramatically repurposed for research on rocketry as the US prepared to enter World War II. High Volts retained its unusual, single-room architecture until 1960, when Caltech renovated it into the Alfred P. Sloan Laboratory of Mathematics and Physics, producing a more conventional internal structure, with windows and five floors of space, including new basements, rather than a single large room. By this point, it had had a storied career contributing to electrical engineering, nuclear physics, radiation therapy, spectacular public demonstrations, and even science we might call alchemy.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Influenza Comes to Throop</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/influenza-comes-to-throop/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Influenza Comes to Throop" /><published>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/influenza-comes-to-throop</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/influenza-comes-to-throop/"><![CDATA[{% include youtube.html id=page.youtube %}

Like many institutions, Throop College of Technology confronted the 1918 flu in the context of mobilization for World War I. Indeed, throughout the United States and Europe, the context of war shaped people’s experience of the epidemic so deeply that after, many only described or wrote about the disease as an aspect of wartime.

I’ll begin, then, with the story of World War I at Throop. In 1908, Throop’s board of trustees, including astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, recruited James A. B. Scherer to be the college's third president. Scherer was a Lutheran minister and historian of Japan who had previously served as president of Newberry College in South Carolina, where he had developed an engineering curriculum, as Throop’s board hoped he would at their college.

World War I began in 1914, but under President Woodrow Wilson the United States maintained neutrality. Scherer’s personal experience of the war was deeply shaped by his identity as an “American of German descent” (he rejected the hyphenate “German-American”) and as a Lutheran minister. Scherer had grown up admiring Germany, but when he visited in 1907, he found the experience disillusioning. Rather than the spiritual culture “of Luther and Goethe and Beethoven,” wrote Scherer, he found “a marvelous but soulless machine,” a modern industrial society. The war, he later believed, was the result of the unchecked ambition of the German state. “Since the spring of 1916,” he wrote, “I have postponed my pacifism indefinitely, and devoted such strength as I have to the cause of civilisation against Germany.”[^1]

Scherer’s personal conviction matters for the history of Throop, and the college’s experience of the flu, because he brought the institution along with him. In summer 1916, Scherer attended a military training camp in Monterey, California.[^2] That September, Throop began offering military training in its curriculum. Scherer’s initial plan was for these courses to be optional, but 80% of the students—all men since Throop had stopped admitting women in 1910—petitioned the administration to make them compulsory. “The Throop College Battalion,” wrote one of the first historians of Caltech, Imra Buwalda, “became the first ROTC unit in southern California and the first for engineers in the country.”[^3]

In April 1917, the US entered the war. Scherer attempted to establish an intensive summer military training camp at Throop in 1917, but had to abort his efforts when, a week before training was to begin, the War Department denied requests for weapons and instructors.[^4]

On October 1, 1918, all Throop students became enlisted soldiers under the Students Army Training Corps. By this point, Throop was not unusual in its mobilization for the war effort; 524 other colleges became SATC camps the same day.[^5] Nonetheless, SATC requested Throop enroll more students than it had, leading to a near-doubling from 189 to 340 enrolled; to supplement the buildings already standing on campus—Pasadena Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, and a dormitory—the Army began building a mess hall and three barracks, and temporarily housed students in a large circus tent. Several Army officers were assigned to the campus to train them as infantrymen and military engineers.[^6]

We now have to context to understand what Throop was like during the flu epidemic of 1918, and in particular how the work of students and physical arrangement of the campus were different from any before or since.

A week into this new arrangement, the first cases of influenza were reported in Pasadena. According to Pasadena City Health Officer Stanley P. Black, the virus came to Pasadena not from Los Angeles—where cases had appeared a few weeks earlier—but with “a woman who arrived a few days ago from the East,” who then infected her family and physician.[^7]

The disease soon arrived at Throop as well. As students wrote in their yearbook,

> The first men to fall before the disease were sent to the Pasadena Hospital, but the facilities there were soon over-crowded, and the necessity of equipping our own hospital was apparent. It was at this time that the Red Cross came to our aid.… From October 11th to October 19th a steady stream of hospital supplies flowed from the Red Cross headquarters, in the old Throop Institute buildings, to our hastily improvised hospitals.[^8]

Around October 17, the college’s military commanders decided to send all students home, only to receive orders from Washington a few hours later prohibiting them from issuing passes or furloughs. “As a result,” reported the *Los Angeles Evening Herald*, “a large number of students who had already left the college were recalled, some of them from as far away as San Diego.… No quarantine will be placed on Throop College, and parents will be allowed to visit their sons. But none of the students will be issued passes or allowed off the grounds during the epidemic.”[^9]

“The influenza epidemic,” wrote students, “completely demoralized the routine of the post, as it was necessary to suspend all class work, and most of the formations, during the quarantine period. At one time, there were over eighty men in the dormitory, which had been turned into a hospital.” Twelve nurses, all women, staffed the hospital. In an effort to raise morale, the YMCA organized film screenings three nights a week in a tent; according to electrical engineering professor Royal Sorensen, a fellow engineering professor operated the projector and “passed the hat after each movie in order to rent another film.”[^10]

Meanwhile, outside of campus the city of Pasadena passed a number of ordinances to slow infection. “The Crown City,” commented the *L.A. Times*, permitted outdoor gatherings “provided those present are seated at least two feet apart.”[^11]

In 1978, Alice Stone of the Caltech Women’s Club interviewed several women who had been part of Throop in these early years. Among them was Elizabeth Swift, who had served as assistant to the secretary in 1918.

Three students, all freshmen, passed away within a period of a few weeks: chemistry major John B. Drive on October 26, general engineering major John Perham Webster on November 1, and chemistry major Russel David Forney on November 13.[^12]

Meanwhile, World War I’s armistice came on November 11. According to Sorenson, “most of Pasadena headed for Marengo and Colorado Streets to join the unorganized but orderly parade which continued for hours. Some had their masks as required by law, but they were off the face hanging by a loop over one ear.”[^13] As far as I can tell, Pasadena hadn’t actually legislated mask-wearing—that came a couple months later—but one of the challenges in history is that memory is fallible.

As the disease subsided, campus returned to action by November 21, when Throop held its first assembly of the term.[^14] With the war over, SATC dissolved and the college became a civilian institution again.

As in many places, though, the flu had a second wave at Throop. In the new year of 1919, the institution suspended classes from January 18 to February 3. Pasadena began requiring masks in public on January 18 as well. On January 20 a fourth student died: Warren C. Mansur, a sophomore mechanical engineering major.[^15]

In some ways, it was immediately after this traumatic period that the history of Caltech as we know it today began. In 1919, chemist Arthur Amos Noyes resigned his position at MIT and came to Throop full-time. In 1920, after spending much of a year on leave due to depression and nervous breakdowns, President Scherer oversaw the institution’s renaming as the California Institute of Technology, then resigned. He went on to work as a screenwriter, as president of the Southwest Museum in Los Angeles, and as a guide offering tours of Asia, while publishing books on the histories of both Japan and California. In 1921, physicist Robert A. Millikan also came to Caltech full-time, replacing the presidency with the role of Chairman of the Executive Council, which he would hold for 24 years.

[^1]: James A. B. Scherer, *The Nation at War* (New York: George H. Doran, 1918), 14–18.

[^2]: Scherer, *Nation at War*, 28.

[^3]: Imra W. Buwalda, “The Roots of the California Institute of Technology III,” *Engineering and Science*, December 1966, 19.

[^4]: Buwalda, “Roots,” 19.

[^5]: Buwalda, “Roots,” 22; Advisory Board, *Committee on Education and Special Training: A Review of Its Work During 1918* (Washington: War Department, 1919), 31.

[^6]: *The Throop Tech* (Pasadena: 1919), 40; James A. B. Scherer, “The President's Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” *Throop College Bulletin* 28, no. 83 (May 1919): 14–15.

[^7]: “Influenza Breaks Out in Pasadena,” *Los Angeles Times*, October 9, 1918; “[Los Angeles, California](https://www.influenzaarchive.org/cities/city-losangeles.html),” in *American Influenza Epidemic of 1918–1919: A Digital Encyclopedia*, ed. J. Alex Navarro and Howard Markel (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Center for the History of Medicine and Michigan Publishing, University of Michigan Library, 2016).

[^8]: *Throop Tech*, 48.

[^9]: “Furloughs Recalled and Cadets Return to Camp at Throop,” *Los Angeles Evening Herald*, October 17, 1918.

[^10]: *Throop Tech*, 40, 46, 48; Royal Sorensen, quoted in Buwalda, “Roots,” 22.

[^11]: “The Two-Foot Rule,” *Los Angeles Times*, November 7, 1918.

[^12]: Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15; Throop Tech, frontmatter.

[^13]: Sorensen, quoted in Buwalda, “Roots,” 22.

[^14]: James A. B. Scherer to Arthur Fleming, November 21, 1918, 1918 file, Outgoing Correspondence subseries, Correspondence series, James A. B. Scherer Papers, California Institute of Technology Archives and Special Collections; Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15.

[^15]: Buwalda, “Roots,” 22; Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15; Throop Tech, frontmatter.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="war" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[Like many institutions, Throop College of Technology confronted the 1918 flu in the context of mobilization for World War I. Indeed, throughout the United States and Europe, the context of war shaped people’s experience of the epidemic so deeply that after, many only described or wrote about the disease as an aspect of wartime. I’ll begin, then, with the story of World War I at Throop. In 1908, Throop’s board of trustees, including astrophysicist George Ellery Hale, recruited James A. B. Scherer to be the college’s third president. Scherer was a Lutheran minister and historian of Japan who had previously served as president of Newberry College in South Carolina, where he had developed an engineering curriculum, as Throop’s board hoped he would at their college. World War I began in 1914, but under President Woodrow Wilson the United States maintained neutrality. Scherer’s personal experience of the war was deeply shaped by his identity as an “American of German descent” (he rejected the hyphenate “German-American”) and as a Lutheran minister. Scherer had grown up admiring Germany, but when he visited in 1907, he found the experience disillusioning. Rather than the spiritual culture “of Luther and Goethe and Beethoven,” wrote Scherer, he found “a marvelous but soulless machine,” a modern industrial society. The war, he later believed, was the result of the unchecked ambition of the German state. “Since the spring of 1916,” he wrote, “I have postponed my pacifism indefinitely, and devoted such strength as I have to the cause of civilisation against Germany.”1 Scherer’s personal conviction matters for the history of Throop, and the college’s experience of the flu, because he brought the institution along with him. In summer 1916, Scherer attended a military training camp in Monterey, California.2 That September, Throop began offering military training in its curriculum. Scherer’s initial plan was for these courses to be optional, but 80% of the students—all men since Throop had stopped admitting women in 1910—petitioned the administration to make them compulsory. “The Throop College Battalion,” wrote one of the first historians of Caltech, Imra Buwalda, “became the first ROTC unit in southern California and the first for engineers in the country.”3 In April 1917, the US entered the war. Scherer attempted to establish an intensive summer military training camp at Throop in 1917, but had to abort his efforts when, a week before training was to begin, the War Department denied requests for weapons and instructors.4 On October 1, 1918, all Throop students became enlisted soldiers under the Students Army Training Corps. By this point, Throop was not unusual in its mobilization for the war effort; 524 other colleges became SATC camps the same day.5 Nonetheless, SATC requested Throop enroll more students than it had, leading to a near-doubling from 189 to 340 enrolled; to supplement the buildings already standing on campus—Pasadena Hall, Gates Laboratory of Chemistry, and a dormitory—the Army began building a mess hall and three barracks, and temporarily housed students in a large circus tent. Several Army officers were assigned to the campus to train them as infantrymen and military engineers.6 We now have to context to understand what Throop was like during the flu epidemic of 1918, and in particular how the work of students and physical arrangement of the campus were different from any before or since. A week into this new arrangement, the first cases of influenza were reported in Pasadena. According to Pasadena City Health Officer Stanley P. Black, the virus came to Pasadena not from Los Angeles—where cases had appeared a few weeks earlier—but with “a woman who arrived a few days ago from the East,” who then infected her family and physician.7 The disease soon arrived at Throop as well. As students wrote in their yearbook, The first men to fall before the disease were sent to the Pasadena Hospital, but the facilities there were soon over-crowded, and the necessity of equipping our own hospital was apparent. It was at this time that the Red Cross came to our aid.… From October 11th to October 19th a steady stream of hospital supplies flowed from the Red Cross headquarters, in the old Throop Institute buildings, to our hastily improvised hospitals.8 Around October 17, the college’s military commanders decided to send all students home, only to receive orders from Washington a few hours later prohibiting them from issuing passes or furloughs. “As a result,” reported the Los Angeles Evening Herald, “a large number of students who had already left the college were recalled, some of them from as far away as San Diego.… No quarantine will be placed on Throop College, and parents will be allowed to visit their sons. But none of the students will be issued passes or allowed off the grounds during the epidemic.”9 “The influenza epidemic,” wrote students, “completely demoralized the routine of the post, as it was necessary to suspend all class work, and most of the formations, during the quarantine period. At one time, there were over eighty men in the dormitory, which had been turned into a hospital.” Twelve nurses, all women, staffed the hospital. In an effort to raise morale, the YMCA organized film screenings three nights a week in a tent; according to electrical engineering professor Royal Sorensen, a fellow engineering professor operated the projector and “passed the hat after each movie in order to rent another film.”10 Meanwhile, outside of campus the city of Pasadena passed a number of ordinances to slow infection. “The Crown City,” commented the L.A. Times, permitted outdoor gatherings “provided those present are seated at least two feet apart.”11 In 1978, Alice Stone of the Caltech Women’s Club interviewed several women who had been part of Throop in these early years. Among them was Elizabeth Swift, who had served as assistant to the secretary in 1918. Three students, all freshmen, passed away within a period of a few weeks: chemistry major John B. Drive on October 26, general engineering major John Perham Webster on November 1, and chemistry major Russel David Forney on November 13.12 Meanwhile, World War I’s armistice came on November 11. According to Sorenson, “most of Pasadena headed for Marengo and Colorado Streets to join the unorganized but orderly parade which continued for hours. Some had their masks as required by law, but they were off the face hanging by a loop over one ear.”13 As far as I can tell, Pasadena hadn’t actually legislated mask-wearing—that came a couple months later—but one of the challenges in history is that memory is fallible. As the disease subsided, campus returned to action by November 21, when Throop held its first assembly of the term.14 With the war over, SATC dissolved and the college became a civilian institution again. As in many places, though, the flu had a second wave at Throop. In the new year of 1919, the institution suspended classes from January 18 to February 3. Pasadena began requiring masks in public on January 18 as well. On January 20 a fourth student died: Warren C. Mansur, a sophomore mechanical engineering major.15 In some ways, it was immediately after this traumatic period that the history of Caltech as we know it today began. In 1919, chemist Arthur Amos Noyes resigned his position at MIT and came to Throop full-time. In 1920, after spending much of a year on leave due to depression and nervous breakdowns, President Scherer oversaw the institution’s renaming as the California Institute of Technology, then resigned. He went on to work as a screenwriter, as president of the Southwest Museum in Los Angeles, and as a guide offering tours of Asia, while publishing books on the histories of both Japan and California. In 1921, physicist Robert A. Millikan also came to Caltech full-time, replacing the presidency with the role of Chairman of the Executive Council, which he would hold for 24 years. James A. B. Scherer, The Nation at War (New York: George H. Doran, 1918), 14–18. &#8617; Scherer, Nation at War, 28. &#8617; Imra W. Buwalda, “The Roots of the California Institute of Technology III,” Engineering and Science, December 1966, 19. &#8617; Buwalda, “Roots,” 19. &#8617; Buwalda, “Roots,” 22; Advisory Board, Committee on Education and Special Training: A Review of Its Work During 1918 (Washington: War Department, 1919), 31. &#8617; The Throop Tech (Pasadena: 1919), 40; James A. B. Scherer, “The President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” Throop College Bulletin 28, no. 83 (May 1919): 14–15. &#8617; “Influenza Breaks Out in Pasadena,” Los Angeles Times, October 9, 1918; “Los Angeles, California,” in American Influenza Epidemic of 1918–1919: A Digital Encyclopedia, ed. J. Alex Navarro and Howard Markel (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Center for the History of Medicine and Michigan Publishing, University of Michigan Library, 2016). &#8617; Throop Tech, 48. &#8617; “Furloughs Recalled and Cadets Return to Camp at Throop,” Los Angeles Evening Herald, October 17, 1918. &#8617; Throop Tech, 40, 46, 48; Royal Sorensen, quoted in Buwalda, “Roots,” 22. &#8617; “The Two-Foot Rule,” Los Angeles Times, November 7, 1918. &#8617; Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15; Throop Tech, frontmatter. &#8617; Sorensen, quoted in Buwalda, “Roots,” 22. &#8617; James A. B. Scherer to Arthur Fleming, November 21, 1918, 1918 file, Outgoing Correspondence subseries, Correspondence series, James A. B. Scherer Papers, California Institute of Technology Archives and Special Collections; Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15. &#8617; Buwalda, “Roots,” 22; Scherer, “President’s Ninth-Tenth Annual Report,” 14–15; Throop Tech, frontmatter. &#8617;]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Becoming Caltech, 1910–1930: Presentations from the Archives</title><link href="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Becoming Caltech, 1910–1930: Presentations from the Archives" /><published>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-06-11T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/presentations/2020/becoming-caltech/"><![CDATA[A century ago, a small institution called Throop Polytechnic Institute dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. In 1920, it became the California Institute of Technology. In summer 2020, Caltech archivists gave a series of livestreamed presentations on the science, engineering, architecture, and community life of early Caltech.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="presentations" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="geology" /><category term="chemistry" /><category term="physics" /><category term="biology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="education" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="California" /><category term="archives" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[A century ago, a small institution called Throop Polytechnic Institute dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. In 1920, it became the California Institute of Technology. In summer 2020, Caltech archivists gave a series of livestreamed presentations on the science, engineering, architecture, and community life of early Caltech.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930</title><link href="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930" /><published>2020-02-10T00:00:00-08:00</published><updated>2020-02-10T00:00:00-08:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/exhibits/2020/becoming-caltech/"><![CDATA[In the 1910s and 1920s, Caltech dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. The school began building its current campus, recruited renowned faculty, constructed sophisticated laboratories, trained students to become leading researchers, and established new relationships with industry and government. On February 10, 1920, the Institute’s trustees acknowledged this transformation by changing the institution’s name from Throop College of Technology to California Institute of Technology.

A century later, the Caltech Archives presents the exhibition “Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930.” It tells the story of Caltech's early growth through historical documents, objects, photographs, and film, organized into three sections. “Becoming” traces Caltech's evolution through the reformation instigated by George Ellery Hale and catalyzed by World War I. “Building Research” chronicles both the history of science, engineering, and the humanities at Caltech—ranging from the core activities of the 1910s (electrical engineering, chemistry, and physics) to the new fields of the 1920s (genetics, seismology, and aeronautics)—and the architecture and construction of the buildings which housed this research. “Community” explores the lives and culture of the students, faculty, and staff who made up the Institute, including athletics, clubs, the Athenaeum, and the big T that students carved out of the forest on the side of Mt. Wilson.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="exhibits" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="science" /><category term="technology" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="laboratories" /><category term="architecture" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="education" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the 1910s and 1920s, Caltech dramatically reinvented itself, transforming from a manual arts academy to an engineering school, then expanding into a research institute. The school began building its current campus, recruited renowned faculty, constructed sophisticated laboratories, trained students to become leading researchers, and established new relationships with industry and government. On February 10, 1920, the Institute’s trustees acknowledged this transformation by changing the institution’s name from Throop College of Technology to California Institute of Technology. A century later, the Caltech Archives presents the exhibition “Becoming Caltech: Building a Research Community, 1910–1930.” It tells the story of Caltech’s early growth through historical documents, objects, photographs, and film, organized into three sections. “Becoming” traces Caltech’s evolution through the reformation instigated by George Ellery Hale and catalyzed by World War I. “Building Research” chronicles both the history of science, engineering, and the humanities at Caltech—ranging from the core activities of the 1910s (electrical engineering, chemistry, and physics) to the new fields of the 1920s (genetics, seismology, and aeronautics)—and the architecture and construction of the buildings which housed this research. “Community” explores the lives and culture of the students, faculty, and staff who made up the Institute, including athletics, clubs, the Athenaeum, and the big T that students carved out of the forest on the side of Mt. Wilson.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">When Caltech Was Throop University</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2017/throop-university/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="When Caltech Was Throop University" /><published>2017-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2017-11-01T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2017/throop-university</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2017/throop-university/"><![CDATA[On November 2, 1891, classes began at Throop University—the school that would become Caltech—in a rented building in downtown Pasadena. Founder Amos Throop was a Universalist preacher and abolitionist politician who made his fortune in lumber and real estate in Chicago before moving to Los Angeles, where he bought orchards and farms, in 1880. His school offered courses in literature, music, art, elocution, stenography, typewriting, and law—with only six faculty. Throop University had trouble recruiting students, so its trustees renamed it Throop Polytechnic Institute in 1893 and reorganized it to train Pasadena’s youth, from elementary school through college, for factory work in an industrial society. Although namesake Amos Throop passed away in 1894, over the decades that followed Throop Polytechnic Institute formed alliances with influential scientists—astronomer George Hale, physicist Robert Millikan, and chemist Arthur Noyes—and reinvented itself again as a pioneering science and engineering university, renamed the California Institute of Technology in 1920.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="Caltech" /><category term="education" /><category term="California" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[On November 2, 1891, classes began at Throop University—the school that would become Caltech—in a rented building in downtown Pasadena. Founder Amos Throop was a Universalist preacher and abolitionist politician who made his fortune in lumber and real estate in Chicago before moving to Los Angeles, where he bought orchards and farms, in 1880. His school offered courses in literature, music, art, elocution, stenography, typewriting, and law—with only six faculty. Throop University had trouble recruiting students, so its trustees renamed it Throop Polytechnic Institute in 1893 and reorganized it to train Pasadena’s youth, from elementary school through college, for factory work in an industrial society. Although namesake Amos Throop passed away in 1894, over the decades that followed Throop Polytechnic Institute formed alliances with influential scientists—astronomer George Hale, physicist Robert Millikan, and chemist Arthur Noyes—and reinvented itself again as a pioneering science and engineering university, renamed the California Institute of Technology in 1920.]]></summary></entry><entry><title type="html">The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Making a Technology of Consciousness in the Long 1960s</title><link href="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Revolution Will Be Videotaped: Making a Technology of Consciousness in the Long 1960s" /><published>2015-07-13T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2015-07-13T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://collopy.net/writing/2015/revolution-will-be-videotaped/"><![CDATA[In the late 1960s, video recorders became portable, leaving the television studio for the art gallery, the psychiatric hospital, and the streets. The technology of recording moving images on magnetic tape, previously of use only to broadcasters, became a tool for artistic expression, psychological experimentation, and political revolution. Video became portable not only materially but also culturally; it could be carried by an individual, but it could also be carried into institutions from the RAND Corporation to the Black Panther Party, from psychiatrists’ offices to art galleries, and from prisons to state-funded media access centers. Between 1967 and 1973, American videographers across many of these institutional contexts participated in a common discourse, sharing not only practical knowledge about the uses and maintenance of video equipment, but visions of its social significance, psychological effects, and utopian future. For many, video was a technology which would bring about a new kind of awareness, the communal consciousness that—influenced by the evolutionary philosophy of Henri Bergson—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin referred to as the noosphere and Marshall McLuhan as the global village. Experimental videographers across several fields were also influenced by the psychedelic research of the 1950s and early 1960s, by the development of cybernetics as a science of both social systems and interactions between humans and machines, by anthropology and humanistic psychology, and by revolutionary political movements in the United States and around the world.]]></content><author><name>Peter Sachs Collopy</name></author><category term="writing" /><category term="politics" /><category term="technology" /><category term="media" /><category term="consciousness" /><category term="cybernetics" /><category term="video" /><category term="art" /><category term="visual culture" /><category term="analog/digital" /><category term="synthesizers" /><category term="evolution" /><category term="war" /><category term="technopolitics" /><category term="science" /><category term="human sciences" /><category term="medicine" /><category term="engineering" /><category term="drugs" /><category term="anthropology" /><category term="religion" /><category term="Christianity" /><category term="utopianism" /><category term="communism" /><category term="psychiatry" /><category term="fascism" /><category term="New York" /><category term="California" /><category term="biology" /><category term="philosophy" /><summary type="html"><![CDATA[In the late 1960s, video recorders became portable, leaving the television studio for the art gallery, the psychiatric hospital, and the streets. The technology of recording moving images on magnetic tape, previously of use only to broadcasters, became a tool for artistic expression, psychological experimentation, and political revolution. Video became portable not only materially but also culturally; it could be carried by an individual, but it could also be carried into institutions from the RAND Corporation to the Black Panther Party, from psychiatrists’ offices to art galleries, and from prisons to state-funded media access centers. Between 1967 and 1973, American videographers across many of these institutional contexts participated in a common discourse, sharing not only practical knowledge about the uses and maintenance of video equipment, but visions of its social significance, psychological effects, and utopian future. For many, video was a technology which would bring about a new kind of awareness, the communal consciousness that—influenced by the evolutionary philosophy of Henri Bergson—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin referred to as the noosphere and Marshall McLuhan as the global village. Experimental videographers across several fields were also influenced by the psychedelic research of the 1950s and early 1960s, by the development of cybernetics as a science of both social systems and interactions between humans and machines, by anthropology and humanistic psychology, and by revolutionary political movements in the United States and around the world.]]></summary></entry></feed>