Instrumental changes in astronomy - collection of antique instruments to be cataloged by Adler Planetarium in 1993 - Cover Story

Science News, Dec 19, 1992 by Janet Raloff

Tucked away in the attic of a small, domed structure on Chicago's lakefront rests a little-known scientific trove, a glittering assortment of roughly 1,500 antique instruments and 1,700 rare books known simply as the Adler collection.

Begun as a gift to the people of Chicago from Max Adler, who also built the city's planetarium, the collection today holds 85 antique telescopes. Opulent examples from the 17th and 18th centuries include several covered in hand-tooled leather and at least one of brass appliqued with silver. In some, lenses are secured with holders of ivory or horn. But the most prized of these devices - a seven-foot reflecting telescope made by William Herschel- is borne in one of the simplest housings. This instrument matches precisely the description of the one through which Herschel discovered the planet Uranus in 1781.

The Adler collections 95 astrolabes instruments used to observe the positions of celestial bodies before the invention of the sextant - constitute the largest assemblage in North America and one of the three or four most comprehensive such groups in the world. Among the rarest of these is a Jewish astrolabe. Lettered in Hebrew, it's one of only three known to exist.

Within the collections library resides a first edition of Johann Kepler's Rudolphine Tables, named for Kepler's benefactor, Emperor Rudolph 11 of Prague. Published in 1627, these astronomical tables describe the positions of celestial bodies. In the Adler volume, Kepler has penned a Latin inscription to a friend. The library also contains a second edition of Sir Isaac Newton's Principia Mathematica, published in 1713.

Most of the 700,000 people who pass through the Adler Planetarium each year know nothing of the growing collection of astronomical history that sleeps upstairs. Over the past 30 years, however, historians have developed a deep respect for this tangible embodiment of early modern science.

They and others attracted to this marriage of art and science will get their first glimpse of the full breadth of the collection in the new year, when the Adler Planetarium will begin publishing a series of books cataloging --in text and photographs - each artifact. The books are the first in a series of projects to share the Adler collection more fully with the: public and the research community alike.

Max Adler was one of a number of wealthy Chicago merchants who wanted to bestow a cultural legacy on his hometown. About the time his brother-in-law was rounding Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry, Adler, a retired officer of Sears, Roebuck and Co., decided to bring Chicago the first planetarium in the western hemisphere. Made in Germany, the complex optical device -- then just the third full-size planetarium in the world projected a near-perfect reproduction of the night sky onto a domed ceiling.

Adler expected that the planetarium's entertaining sky shows would inspire in the public a sense of awe at humanity's insignificance in the context of the universe - a humility he hoped might discourage violence and foster a sense of global community. Adler's gift - the instrument and the rainbow-granite facility he built to house it - opened to the public in May 1930.

That same year, Adler purchased a European collection of roughly 500 antiques, most of which had been acquired around the turn of the century by Raoul Heilbronner, a German dealer living in Paris. Heilbronner "had a weakness for old scientific instruments, trading some and keeping most:' notes Roderick S. Webster, who together with his wife, Marjorie, served for 29 years as curators of this collection.

With the onset of World War I, Heilbronner returned to Germany- without his belongings. While the French government sold off most of Heilbronner's acquisitions piecemeal, Webster says the instruments, books, globes, and charts were sold together. A.W.M. Mensing, a connoisseur and close friend of Heilbronner's, bought the lot on behalf of the Muller auction house in Amsterdam.

Mensing added several pieces before commissioning a catalog of the artifacts for sale. One of these catalogs, published in 1924, found its way to Adler around 1929. Adler purchased the entire collection and turned it over to the new planetarium bearing his name.

Though some pieces were displayed immediately, the bulk of the collection went into storage in a combination of locked cases and open shelves in the planetarium's attic. While many experts knew of their whereabouts, garnering details on these instruments proved a challenge - until the Websters stumbled onto them.

It started with an antique pocket sundial Rod Webster picked up from a local dealer. Recalls Marjorie, "We weren't familiar with its maker -- Johann Martin of Augsburg - or era, so we took it to the British Museum [in London] and a curator showed us similar German ones." The curator spent a lot of time with the couple, who had traveled all the way from Winnetka, Ill., just north of Chicago.

As the Websters prepared to depart, the curator asked a favor in return. His museum had written the Adler Planetarium several times, requesting information about its collection - measurements of specific items, photos, perhaps details on how a maker signed his instruments -- but there'd never been a single reply. Could the Websters help?