New Jersey Astronomical Association

16 05 2011

If you’re anywhere near Voorhees State Park in Lebanon Township, New Jersey, make plans to visit the Paul H. Robinson Observatory at 8:30 p.m., May 28, to hear  Robert Zimmerman give a talk, “Unknown Stories From Space: Tales of Space Adventure Few Know About.” The observatory is located about an hour west of NYC, an hour east of Allentown, and an hour north of Trenton—accessible to more people than I can probably count. I’m not sure of Mr. Zimmerman’s exact topic (because the stories are unknown, of course), but if I had to guess, I’d say he was going to be talking a bit about the Hubble Telescope.

The Paul H. Robinson Observatory houses a 16-inch Cassegrain reflector, currently the largest telescope open to the public in New Jersey. I first noticed this instrument when I was doing local history research and discovered the massive mount and frame now in the Paul Robinson observatory was originally installed here in Bloomington at the Knightridge Observatory.  The NJAA website doesn’t mention it, but according to IU history sources, the frame never operated properly.  Even so, the founders of the NJAA paid $100 for the frame and mount (I think we can assume that it would cost considerably more for the system today). If the weather is clear, the telescope will be open to the public after Mr. Zimmerman’s talk. If you do happen to attend, please report back on the state of the frame and mount!





The Astrolabe

14 05 2011

Astrolabe

My doctoral research focused on instruments derived from Ptolemaic principles. However, one of the observatories on which I based my project was also associated with an astrolabe foundry during the first half of the 18th century. Technically, astrolabes aren’t Ptolemaic. The stereographic projection on which the astrolabe depends was first described by Hipparchus c. 150 BCE, some 250 years before Ptolemy described it in his Planisphaerium (2nd c. CE). All the same, I could see needing to explain functionality of the instrument to my dissertation committee, so I started keeping track of the better resources on the instrument in my research notes.

A few fragmented astrolabes exist at one of my research sites, mostly in the form of tympani missing the necessary moving parts (the rete, rule and alidade) to make them useful. Staring at the tympani didn’t do me much good and my reading made sense in theory, but lacked practical examples. I really didn’t want to find myself standing in front of my examination committee, stammering for an answer when they asked me to explain how to use an astrolabe to determine local solar time.

Enter Adler Planetarium, the sole purveyor of Roderick S. Webster’s Astrolabe Kit, the solution to my problem.* I’m a great believer in hands-on learning experiences.  If you want to know how something works, try building it for yourself.  Or try putting it back together after you’ve taken it apart. It works with construction methods used in residential design and, as it turns out, it also works with astrolabes.

Front of Astrolabe, showing tympanum, rete and rule

Webster’s kit is a little pricey (around $20) but I think I’ve gotten twenty bucks worth of entertainment and education out of it.  It took me about three days to build the thing because of its complicated glue demands. Without glue, it would’ve required 30 minutes, tops, including sanding the rough edges and assembly. Learning how to use the thing is been a different matter. I’ve spent (literally) hours sitting at my desk working through the various problems it’s supposed to help me solve. Local skies have been persistently overcast, so I’ve been using Stellarium to help me determine the altitudes of various stars (if the skies ever clear up, I’ll be able to sight them through the rule on the back of the astrolabe. IF THE SKIES EVER CLEAR UP.). I’m currently using the tympanum set up for a latitude of 42 degrees.  That gives me the skies about Barcelona (41 23 N), Marseilles (43 20 N), Rome (41 54 N), Sofia (42 40 N), and Vladivostok (43 10 N) with which to play this evening.

Back of Astrolabe, showing rule

And playing is what I’ve been doing. Sidereal time, solar time, time from the sun, sunrise and sunset, the positions of the moon and planets, rising and setting of a few major stars… Some calculations are working better than others, but I’m not quite sure why. Once I’ve determined the latitude of a star and set the rete, I never move it, no matter what problem I’m trying to solve. It’s a bit of a mystery as to why one answer is immediately obvious and the next isn’t, but it’s also a bit of fun.

*N.B. I spent an outrageous amount of time trying to find the kit in the newest version of Adler’s online store, yet still failed to locate it. You might have to call them if you really want one.





Wallpaper Wednesday

11 05 2011

Construction of Mark I Telescope. Photo credit: Jodrell Bank Centre for Astrophysics, University of Manchester.

Today’s wallpaper is a photo taken during the construction of the 76-meter Mark I (Lovell) Telescope at Jodrell Bank.  Designed by Bernard Lovell and completed in 1957, the Mark I was designed for mobility. Lovell had been using a transit telescope, a 66-meter stationary dish pointed at the overhead sky, in his search for cosmic rays.  While the transit instrument was a suitable beginning, Lovell realized fairly quickly that his work was limited by an inability to re-direct the telescope’s attention to other parts of the sky.

The early construction photos are pretty stunning—the photographer(s) did a good job of capturing the complexity of the steelwork needed to support the dish, not to mention the intricacy of the scaffolding used by the construction workers.  Several alterations have been made to the instrument since its completion:  the railroad tracks on which it rotates have been replaced; the support structure has been shored up numerous times; it was given a new reflector in 1970-71 that significantly increased its functionality.  The dish was resurfaced as recently as 2000-2003.

If you’re interested in viewing the Mark I(a)/Lovell telescope in person, check out the Jodrell Bank Discovery Centre online (there is no public access to the research labs at Jodrell Bank Observatory, but you can take a web tour). If you’re curious as to what the Lovell is observing right this moment, you can see a live update on the Jodrell Bank Telescope Status page.  You can even follow the telescope on twitter (@LovellTelescope).

One last note:  if you want to see a truly impressive grant application, read The Blue Book, Lovell’s research and funding proposal submitted to the Department of Scientific and Industrial Research in 1951. Would that everyone could write such a clear explanation of his or her work and its broader impact.





SKA Update

9 05 2011

Good news in the paper this morning:  India gets to join the SKA project, after all!





Gravity Probe B

9 05 2011

Last week, while my attention was elsewhere (no one can prove I was watching KLF videos on YouTube), NASA announced the results of an EPIC space-time experiment. The World of Warcraft language is all theirs, but I have to admit that EPIC is an appropriate descriptor in this case. According to analyses of data returned by Gravity Probe B (GP-B), Einstein was correct.  The earth exists within a 4-dimensional space-time fabric that behaves precisely as predicted:  the mass of the earth dimples space-time and the movement of the earth distorts the dimple, creating a vortex or swirl in space-time.

GP-B is a nifty little instrument. As the graphic below shows, the orbiting spacecraft encapsulates a 9′-tall, 650-gallon dewar flask (thermos)  filled with cooled liquid helium. Before launch, the cigar-shaped probe was inserted into the helium along the central axis of the flask.  The instrumental component of the probe is the Science Instrument Assembly (SIA), which is composed of a telescope and a quartz block housing four gyroscopes.

Gravity Probe B Payload Components. Image courtesy of NASA.

In 2004, the spacecraft, complete with SIA, was launched into a polar orbit 642 km (400 mi) above the Earth.  After the satellite reached orbit, the telescope and the spin axes of the four gyroscopes were aligned with a pre-designated star. The goal was to keep the telescope aligned with the star for a year without making similar axial corrections to the gyroscopes.  After a year, the (postulated) precession change of the spin axis alignment of the gyros would be measured in respect to the plane of orbit (the geodetic precession) and the plane of the Earth’s rotation (frame-dragging precession).

Scientists are interested in the geodetic effect because it is an effective measure of how far the Earth is warping its local space-time.  The axial drift is incredibly small (0.041 arcseconds over a year, with one arcsecond equalling 1/3600th of a degree), but the fact that it was measured at all indicates that the axis was tracing the curves introduced into the fabric of space-time by the mass of the earth.  Most simply, the measure of geodetic precession reflects the “dimple” in space-time.

Scientists are even more interested in  the frame-dragging effect, however.  The idea that massive celestial bodies drag their local space-time around with them as they rotate was proposed about ninety years ago, almost immediately after Einstein gave us his theory of general relativity. If it’s true that space-time is dragged a bit during rotation, we would expect to see evidence not of a perfect dimple, but more of a twist, like a small tornado.  It works on paper, anyway, but we’ve lacked the ability to measure the drag.

Until Gravity Probe B, that is.  This is actually the spectacular part:  the design team managed to encapsulate the probe in a drag-free satellite that protected the gyroscopes from disturbance as it moved through the planet’s outer atmosphere. Moreover, they designed a device that measured the spin of the gyroscope without actually touching the them (which would have disturbed their motion and made the results useless).  While the results might indeed be EPIC, I have to admire the design process even more. Sometimes it can be difficult to get three people in the same room working collaboratively. Gravity Probe B comes to you courtesy of teamwork between NASA, Lockheed Martin, Stanford University, and King Abdulaziz City for Science and Technology in Saudi Arabia. That is EPIC, indeed.

Read more on the Gravity Probe B technology here and here.  Check out the GP-B in a Nutshell posters for explanatory graphics





Cincinnati Observatory Center

7 05 2011

Cincinnati Observatory (Herget) Building. Photo courtesy of Cincinnati Observatory Center.

My partner and I stopped by the Cincinnati Observatory Center the last time we were in town, even though overcast skies meant conditions weren’t ideal for viewing. Sometimes observatories cancel their public programs on cloudy nights, but the Cincinnati group tries to find something interesting to substitute for a viewing session.  So, if you show up to find clouds, you won’t get to use the Merz und Mahler 11″ refractor, but you might hear a good presentation by one of the undergraduate students on her research, look at some of the new images from the observatory’s astrophotography program, or take a historical tour of the main building. The historical tour is also offered every other Sunday afternoon (or so). [Side note:  there’s a 16″ refractor, built by the same company that built the 40-inch refractor at Yerkes Observatory, Alvan Clark and Sons, but public education programs usually use the Merz und Mahler telescope.]

Going on that tour is a good idea since Cincinnati is the oldest professional observatory in the U.S. and houses the oldest telescope still in use nightly by the public.

That brings me to my real interest in the site–the Herget building. If you walk around the outside of the main building (the Herget building), you may notice this cornerstone:

Original Cornerstone of Cincinnati Observatory. Photo courtesy of Cincinnati Observatory Center.

Cool, huh? Laid by John Quincy Adams in May, 1843 CE. The only problem is, this is the stone from the original observatory building that was constructed on Mt. Ida (renamed Mt. Adams).  The observatory existed at that location until a few years after the end of the Civil War, when the University of Cincinnati took responsibility for the observatory and its existing instruments. Over a period of two years, beginning in 1871 CE, the observatory was moved to its present location on Mt. Lookout, where the old cornerstone was incorporated into a new structure.

Main (Herget) Building, Cincinnati Observatory. Photo courtesy of Cincinnati Observatory Center.

The new building was designed by Samuel Hannaford and Sons, a local but prominent architecture firm. If nothing else, the observatory’s Greek Revival design demonstrates the firm’s incredible versatility.  Around the same time, Hannaford designed the Renaissance Revival (aka Italianate) Cuvier Press Club Building (1862), his own late Victorian house (1863), the Neo-Romanesque St. George Parish Church (1872), the Neo-Gothic Music Hall (1878), the Neo-Romanesque Nast Trinity Church (1881), the Second Empire Palace Hotel (1882), the god-knows-what-but-looks-vaguely-Pugin-esque Elsinore Arch (1883), and the Queen Anne style Balch House (1896).  Sure some of his aesthetic adaptability came from his early training at the firm of Edwin Anderson and William Tinsley (compare Hannaford’s work with Anderson and Tinsley’s Romanesque Revival buildings) and some came from a temporary partnership with Edwin Proctor. Most of his creativity seems to stem from his work with his own sons, though.

Note the original solution for the rotating “dome.”  The flat-sided/flat-roofed cupola rotated on bearings fashioned from cannon balls left over after the Civil War.  The cupola was replaced with a dome in 1895 CE. Today it rotates electronically, although the viewing door is still operated by rope and pulley.

Cincinnati Observatory Mitchel Building. Photo courtesy of Cincinnati Observatory Center.

There’s a second building on the observatory campus, the O. M. Mitchel building. When the 16″ Clark telescope was installed in the main building, the 11″ Merz und Mahler was moved into the Mitchel building. The conical roof on the Mitchel building opened to allow for comet hunting. Nifty, especially in the snow.





Wallpaper Wednesday

4 05 2011

Kokino Megalithic Observatory

Now for something different. Older. Cooler. Rockier.

In 2001 CE, archaeologist Jovica Stankovski discovered a site that dated to the Bronze Age (roughly 1800-1600 BCE for Central Europe) near the village of Kokino in the Republic of Macedonia.*  Near the top of the site, terracotta objects dating to 1800 BCE were discovered in a naturally formed stone “room.”  Even more interesting that those remnants, however,was the disposition of the volcanic rock around the site. As you can see from the wallpaper linked above, the site occupies multiple levels on a hilltop and consists of both natural and human-made rock formations.  In 2002 CE, physicist Gjore Cenev began conducting an archaeo-astronomical analysis of the stones and turned up some interesting results.

In the right-center of the photo, you can see the roughly quadrilateral shapes of stone seats, or “thrones,” that have been crafted and positioned so that they face east.  Not readily visible in the image are the stone sets that Cenev argues were used to mark particular days in the solar and lunar calendars.  The survey team located three stone markers that indicated the location of the sunrise at the summer and winter solstice, as well as at the vernal and autumn equinoxes.  They also located four stone markers that indicated the position of the rising moon on when it was at maximum and minimum declination.  Two more stone markers were meant to measure the length of the lunar month in winter and summer.

Across several publications, Cenev has provided a great deal of information about his team’s approach to measurement and analysis (they basically extrapolated from Gerald Hawkins’ work at Stonehenge in the 1960s).  That anyone is capable of looking at a pile of stone put together 3800 years ago and figure out what’s going in terms of astronomical observation is amazing enough; that they were able to postulate certain societal behavior from their study is even more so.

For example, Cenev notes that the position of the lunar markers suggests that the Macedonians were aware of the metonic (19-year) cycle of the moon. [Briefly, it takes 19 years before a full moon to appear in exactly the same place again.]  However, to gather enough data to determine the metonic cycle conclusively, astronomers would have needed make lunar observations for some 38-57 years.  Given a life expectancy of forty years for ancient Macedonians, that means the society assigned enough importance to the calendar to conduct observations for at least two, and probably three, generations.

There’s more to be read in Cenev’s work:  a single stone seems to mark the location of the sunrise on a day not obviously associated with the calendar, giving rise to the speculation that the day was important for some ritual or another, probably associated with harvest.  The geology of the site is interesting, as the inhabitants took advantage of the local andezite’s tendency to fracture along straight lines, providing them with natural building blocks.  At least some of the observation points can be occupied only by a single person.  So, while it’s interesting to read about the calendrical calculations and how they compared to those made at Stonehenge, it’s even more intriguing to use the (admittedly fragmented) evidence to try and build a picture of the people who built the observatory at Kokino.

*I used three papers by Gjore Cenev for this post:

Cenev, Gjore. “Archaeo-astronomical characteristicsof the Kokino archaeological site.” Bulgarian Astronomical Journal 9 (2007): 133-1.147

________. “Kokino Calendar.” Publications of the Astronomical Observatory of Belgrade No. 85 (2008): 87 – 94

________. “Megalithic Observatory Kokino.” Publications of the Astronomical Observatory of Belgrade No. 80 (2006): 313-317.





Fermi Large Area Telescope

30 04 2011

 

 

I saved this tweet from Jodcaster Jennifer Gupta because it made me feel good. Sometimes it’s easy to understand WHAT and instrument and WHY it does it, but the HOW can be completely incomprehensible (more so to me than Ms. Gupta, I suspect).

The Large Area Telescope (LAT) to which this tweet refers is the primary instrument on the Fermi Gamma Ray Space Telescope spacecraft.*  As the name of the satellite suggests, the Fermi instruments are directed toward detecting gamma radiation sources. Gamma radiation (aka gamma rays) is electromagnetic radiation with a high frequency/short wavelength.  In fact, gamma rays are the highest-energy forms of light in the electromagnetic spectrum.  The Fermi satellite follows decades of gamma ray detection and analysis through various means by NASA, but it is unique in that it’s the first instrument to survey the entire sky every day for gamma radiation.

The entire sky?  Yes, but in search of some more specific targets:  blazars, active galaxies, gamma-ray bursts, neutron stars, cosmic rays, supernova remnants, our own galaxy and solar system, and….wait for it….dark matter!

The LAT is used to detect gamma rays using a process called “pair production,” which is governed by Einstein’s statement of the equivalence of energy and matter (E=mc2).  Gamma rays are pure energy.  When gamma radiation hits the tungsten detector in the Large Area Telescope, it creates a pair of subatomic particles, one electron and one positron.  Silicon tracking detectors project the path of these particles backward to the source of the gamma ray.  A third detector, the calorimeter, measures the energy of the particles, which is dependent on the energy of the gamma ray.

The gamma rays detected and measured by the LAT come from a variety of objects—different kinds of active galactic nuclei, for example, like radio galaxies, Seyfert galaxies, quasars, and blazars.  But the science team behind the LAT expect blazars to be the greatest producers of detectable/measurable gamma rays.  Blazars (blazing quasi-stellar objects) are very compact quasars (quasi-stellar objects) with supermassive black holes at the center of elliptical galaxies.  Blazars are very high energy—maybe the highest energy objects in the universe—and their jets appear to be aimed toward earth.  Analysis of these jets with the Fermi instruments should tell us more about the origins and structure of the universe.  As GLAST Interdisciplinary Scientist Charles Dermer of the Naval Research Laboratory in Washington, D.C., once noted “When GLAST detects a blazar, it is monitoring violent activity from a black hole taking place in the distant past.  Understanding gamma rays from these sources is a form of black hole archeology that reveals the high-energy history of our Universe.”

The LAT is at least 30 times more sensitive than any other instrument sent into space for measuring gamma rays, so it’s no wonder that the results have been so phenomenal.  Although the write-ups of the results aren’t directed toward a popular audience (you can read some of the recent publications at arXiv.org), occasionally the science team finds something so unusual it makes the daily news report.  For instance, earlier this year, the LAT detected two gamma-ray flares in the Crab Nebula.  I loved the press release for that discovery, which noted the science team was “dumbfounded” by the high-energy flares.  Can’t you see a room full of post-docs in ratty t-shirts and jeans staring at their computer screens, saying, “WTF? I seriously need to get more sleep!”?

If you want to delve into the Fermi spacecraft in more detail without battling through a course in particle physics first, NASA has a fantastic guide on the subject for science writers.  It’s almost 50 pages long, but so interesting, I have to recommend it for reading at dinner table.

*The spacecraft was originally named the Gamma-Ray Large Area Space Telescope (GLAST), but was renamed for Enrico Fermi in August 2008.





Wallpaper Wednesday

27 04 2011

Superstructure of 305-meter Radio Telescope at Arecibo, Puerto Rico

An amazing view of the superstructure of the 305-meter radio telescope located near the town of Arecibo, Puerto Rico. This telescope caught my eye for a couple of reasons. First, well, just look at that engineering. Suspension cables, truss work, the lattice work on the Gregorian dome…the construction photos make for fantastic viewing

The image above shows five major components of the telescope’s superstructure:

1) We’re looking at the underside of a triangular “platform” that weighs some 900 tons. The platform is suspended on 18 steel cables. Six more cables connect the corners (two at each corner) to jacks used to adjust height of platform (millimeter by millimeter).

2) The circular structure on the underside of the triangular platform is the track on which the 328-foot azimuth arm rotates.

3) The azimuth arm (the bowed trusswork) is another track system. The carriage house travels on one end of the track, the Gregorian dome travels on the opposite end.

4) The carriage house serves as the terminus for various linear antennae tuned to a narrow band of frequencies. The antennae are directed downward, toward a massive reflector dish.

5) The Gregorian dome is a complicated beast but it essentially enables the spherical reflector of the telescope to behave as if it was a parabolic reflector (the most common shape used for radio telescopes). That odd hanging half-dome contains a multi-beam receiver that can look at seven reflected beams at simultaneously (as opposed to a single-signal linear antenna).

The second reason that observatory caught my eye is that it was designed to take advantage of the geological formations of the site. That huge dish is built on a natural karst (again, the construction photos tell a good story). It’s good to know karst land is good for something other than swallowing holes, collapsing mines, and breaking legs.

In recent years, the telescope has been scrambling for funding, but the NSF has decided to fund it through at least 2016. That gives me five years to figure out a way to go see this place in person.





Wallpaper Wednesday (Super-Kamiokande Neutrino Detector)

20 04 2011

Super-Kamiokande Neutrino Detector

We’ve been having a lot of discussions about neutrinos in our house lately, mostly because I’m forcing my partner to read F. E. Close’s Neutrino.

Neutrinos are elementary particles that are emitted with neutrons transform into protons during certain types of nuclear reactions or radioactive decay.  They are electrically neutral, meaning they have no electrical charge, negative or positive, and don’t react to electromagnetic forces.  They can travel through matter for great distances without being affected by the properties of that matter.  This means that once they have been produced/released as part of a cataclysmic event, neutrinos can travel the cosmos without being absorbed by matter or disturbed by electromagnetic forces.  In theory, this means that they travel across the entire cosmos to arrive at earth without having significantly changed since the moment of origin.

Some of the neutrinos at large in the universe are “man made,” in that they were produced at nuclear power stations, in particle accelerators, by nuclear bombs, and some were generated naturally, during the birth-to-death cycle of stars, for example.  Majority opinion in the astronomy world supports the claim that most neutrinos were created about 15 billion years ago, just after the birth of the universe.  The universe has been cooling and expanding for 15 billion years, yet the neutrinos are still hanging with us, unchanged, as cosmic background radiation.

Since neutrinos don’t change with time or distance, their current constitution should reflect their origin.  That is, extremely high-energy neutrinos should be connected to high-energy origins (supernovae, gamma ray bursts, black holes).  If we suddenly detect a huge number of neutrinos hitting our instruments, we can bet they were associated with a major event.  For example, the day before the core collapse supernova in the Large Magellanic Cloud was detected in 1987, astronomers noticed an usually high number of neutrinos hitting their detectors.  The neutrinos were emitted before the explosion, while the collapse was in process, so their arrival was actually a warning to astronomers, telling them a) that something big is happening; and b) what direction to look to find that big happening.  A great early warning system!

Trouble is, since neutrinos don’t really interact with anything, they’re hard to detect.  To observe them in sufficient number, you need an immense instrument.  For instance, the main collector of IceCube, the neutrino detector at the South Pole, consists of an array of 5,160 detectors frozen in one cubic kilometer of ice.

The image above is the Super-Kamiokande neutrino detector in Hida City, Gifu, Japan.  The Super-K detector, associated with the Kamioka Observatory, was constructed one kilometer underground in the Kamioka mine.  The detector consists of a stainless steel tank (bottom half of the image, with life raft!), 39 meters in diameter and 42 meters in height, filled with 50,000 tons of ultra pure water.  When the neutrino hits the water, its interaction with the electrons or nuclei of water can produce a charged particle. That charged particle (“Cherenkov light”) moves faster than the speed of light through the water.  It’s measured by some 11,000 photomultiplier tubes on the superstructure of the detector (top half of the image) as it moves, and is analyzed to determine the incoming direction and type of neutrino that hit the water.

Okay, technically, the linked images aren’t sized for wallpaper, but they are high-res, so quite adaptable.  The instrument was refurbished in 2005-2006 and those images are available for scrutiny as well.








Observatories and Instruments