Book Review

Ichthyo: The Architecture of Fish, X-Rays from the Smithsonian Institution
Introduction by Stephanie Comer and Deborah Klochko
Essays by Jean-Michel Cousteau, Dr. Daniel Pauly, and Dr. Lynne R. Parenti
X-Rays by Sandra Raredon
Chronicle Books, June 2008, 192 pages
140 duotone photographs
Hardcover, $35.00

A scientist looking at Ichthyo: The Architecture of Fish, X-Rays from the Smithsonian Institution will observe vertebrae and jaw structures. A photographer looking at this book will marvel at the clarity of fine detail and the subtle, gradations of gray. Everyone who looks at this book will hear an elegy for biodiversity. Stunning in their variety, the luminous whites of fish skeletons appear in stark contrast to the deep black backgrounds of these rich duotones. These shadows of specimens long dead foretell a future where climate change has altered ocean chemistry to a point where many species can no longer survive.

To create this strikingly beautiful book, Stephanie Comer and Deborah Klochko, two photography curators, selected 140 images of fish specimens from the more than 10,000 radiographs made by Sandra Raredon at the Smithsonian. Three short, speculative essays preface the volume, setting a philosophical tone for the exploration of the boundary between art and science. “Images of Science,” written by Comer and Klochko, cites historical precedent for the close relationship between art and science. The first specimens in the Smithsonian collection were found on the Wilkes expedition to the South Seas of the Pacific between 1838 and1842. This voyage included artists as well as scientists who worked together to observe and record the voyage’s discoveries. Jean-Michael Cousteau’s essay, titled “Ichthyo” which is ­­another word for fish, expresses hope that preservation efforts will be inspired by the visible complexity and range of forms in this book. In “Beauty for Fishes,” Dr. Daniel Pauly relates beauty to its function in evolution. Symmetries and patterns attract living things to mates or food sources and ensure survival. The plates follow. The only text accompanying the images are a number of quotes and proverbs laid out simply on full pages. The artful presentation is balanced by science with a directory at the back of the book that gives complete identification information for each species.

Following the plates is an essay by Dr. Lynne R. Parenti of the Smithsonian, which further anchors the images in scientific practice. The Smithsonian’s fish collection contains around four million individual specimens, including 70% of the twenty-eight thousand known species. Each one is preserved in 75% ethyl alcohol for long-term storage, which due to evaporation must be constantly replenished. The book’s structure reflects scientific convention: all the fish face left with only one species to a frame. The plates follow phylogenetic order starting with a primitive, jawless hagfish and progress quickly to greater complexity.

The ethereal white forms of fish punctuated by the fine detailed lines of bone offer tremendous variety both within and between species. The simple format invites comparison and speculation. Across one spread, eighteen Curimatids appear to form a school swimming through a dead sea. In some, the digestive tract appears in great detail; in others it is only a suggestive trace, which invites wonder: Were some well fed and others hungry when they were caught? Prominent teeth and strong jaws characterize each of four Piranhas, yet one has a prominent overbite while another has a severe under bite. In one arresting image of a Pangasid Catfish, three clamshells appear in its stomach. Opaque with calcium, they appear more substantial than the transparent fish. X-rays allow visual examination of the fish skeleton without dissection. They also render invisible the slime, the scales and the flesh. What is left is pure structure, shades of gray against solid black. Eels, that alive might be considered repulsive, are reduced to elegance. A skate is transformed into several large organic forms suggesting two urns one on top of the other with a fleur-de-lis at the top. A fine network of lines radiates outward. A Jack becomes a graphic designer’s dream as the thick bones of the jaws and spinal column contrast with the delicate waves of bones that reach out from the spine.

X-rays have their own history and associations that they bring to the (coffee) table. On the one hand, they create an image from what is underlying the skin, an image that is starkly different from what can be seen by the human eye. X-rays usher in the understanding that the surface of things is only a tiny portion of reality. X-rays also are dangerous. Invisible, their damage doesn’t become apparent until far in the future. Originally hailed as miraculous and used without precautions, many of the first scientists and doctors who experimented with radiographs suffered severe burns, amputations or worse. Clarence Dally, Thomas Edison’s assistant who worked extensively with X-rays, died a miserable death five or six years after ceasing all experiments. (1) X-rays have come to represent the hidden, lurking dangers of technology. The hazardous invisible technology that created these images can serve as a metaphor for industrial technologies’ unintended consequences that now threaten our world.

The urgency of climate change shifts the context within which we view Ichthyo. Created for scientific purposes, these images removed from their original context become ghosts rendered by dangerous hidden forces. Memorializing the dead, they mourn the imminent loss of biodiversity. The fragility of survival creates a beauty and pathos. The aesthetic pleasure of viewing these images is mixed with sorrow. This book does a tremendous service by acquainting the general public with this rich resource. However, this peek into the riches held by the Smithsonian Institution’s fish library is bittersweet. Let’s hope that in fifty years, Ichthyo will continue to be a gorgeous celebration of biodiversity and not a lamentation for all that has been lost.

1. BettyAnn Holtzmann Kevles. Naked to the Bone: Medical Imaging in the Twentieth Century, New York: Basic Books, 1998.

published in Exposure, the journal of the Society for Photographic Education, Fall 2008