The Saga of Lunar Landscape

For more than a decade it has been my privilege, among my other duties, to serve as curator of the National Air and Space Museum art collection. It comes as a surprise to many folks to realize that the Museum has an art collection. In fact, it includes over 4,700 works by artists with names like Daumier, Goya, Rauschenberg, Rockwell and Wyeth, and is perhaps the finest and best-rounded collection of aerospace-themed art held by any of the world’s museums. People who are aware that I manage the Museum’s art treasures occasionally ask if I have a favorite work in the collection, I do.

“Lunar Landscape” by Chesley Bonestell. Reproduced courtesy of Private Collection

Chesley Bonestell’s mural, Lunar Landscape, was unveiled at the Boston Science Museum’s Hayden Planetarium on March 28, 1957. “No spaceship reservations are needed for a startlingly realistic visit to the Moon” announced a museum press release.  Measuring forty feet long by ten feet tall, the dramatic panorama of the lunar surface was the masterwork of an artist who had done more than his fair share to set the stage for the coming of the Space Age.

Born in 1888, Chesley Bonestell grew up on San Francisco’s Nob Hill, and survived the 1906 earthquake to emerge as a leading American architectural designer. Having left his artistic fingerprints on some of the best known structures of the era, including the façade of the Chrysler Building, the U.S. Supreme Court, and the Golden Gate Bridge, he moved on to Hollywood, where his matte paintings provided the stunning backgrounds for such films as, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939), Only Angels Have Wings (1939), Citizen Kane (1941), and The Magnificent Ambersons. (1942).

Chesley Bonestell. Portrait by Ansel Adams, Gift of Pip and Frederick C. Durant, III

Always fascinated by astronomy, Bonestell began combining the best available science with his own artistry to produce paintings of the surface of other worlds. Life magazine published a spread of the artist’s extraterrestrial scenes in its issue of May 29, 1944. The editors of Mechanix Illustrated introduced their readers to Bonestell’s notion of a “Moon Rocket” in September 1945. In 1949, he collaborated with writer Willy Ley to produce the beautifully illustrated book, Conquest of Space. The next year, Bonestell teamed with producer George Pal and science fiction writer Robert Heinlein to create a classic space flight film, Destination Moon (1950). The artist contributed illustrations to a series of eight Colliers magazine articles on space flight that began to appear in the spring of 1952, and to the books describing flights to the Moon and Mars that spun out of the magazine series. A generation of youngsters, myself among them, nursed dreams of interplanetary travel inspired by Chesley Bonestell’s dramatic visions of other worlds.

Bonestell was at the peak of his powers in 1956, when the Boston Museum of Science commissioned Lunar Landscape, a work on canvas that would take up an entire wall near the planetarium. As in the case of all of his paintings, the artist planned the mural in meticulous detail. He positioned the viewer on a spot 1300 feet up the south wall of an imaginary lunar crater (“similar to Albateguius, but smaller”), located seven degrees from the Moon’s North Pole and five degrees to the left of the center of the lunar disc. He went so far as to specify that it was 3 o’clock, Boston time, on a late June afternoon, and calculated the position of the planets and stars accordingly (Jupiter over the central peaks, Antares below and to the right of the Earth).

Continue reading

Lighthouses

I was perusing that perennial bestseller, the FAA’s “Aeronautical Information Manual,” the other night, and ran across an intriguing reference to code beacons and course lights. Code beacons, in general, flash identifying information in Morse code; coded course lights are used with rotating beacons of the Federal Airway System, are highly directional, and are paired back-to-back pointed along the airway. What interested me was the appended note:

Airway beacons are remnants of the “lighted” airways which antedated the present electronically equipped federal airways system. Only a few of these beacons exist today to mark airway segments in remote mountain areas. Flashes in Morse code identify the beacon site.
(Aeronautical Information Manual, 2-2-2 Code Beacons and Course Lights)

Really? Some are still in service? I decided to investigate further.

As the Air Mail Service became better established in the 1920s and 30s, the Post Office and later the Aeronautics Branch of the U. S. Department of Commerce installed hundreds of lighted airway beacons across the country to facilitate night flying. They were spaced roughly ten miles apart; every third one had at least an emergency landing strip adjacent. Each tower carried a white rotating beacon with a 1,000W lamp and 24-inch diameter mirror, visible from all directions, plus the two course lights mentioned above. Airway beacons with a landing strip had green course markers, a detail reflected even today in the fact that the beacons for lighted land airports are green and white (seaplane airports are marked with yellow and white). Red course lights warned pilots that no safe haven would be found there. The beacons were numbered, and the last digit was coded by one of ten Morse code letters: W U V H R K D B G M, where W stood for “one”, U for “two”, and so on. Pilots memorized the phrase “When Undertaking Very Hard Routes, Keep Direction By Good Methods” to remember the order. By day, the locations could be identified by the number painted on the roof of the adjacent generator shed; a large concrete arrow set into the ground showed the direction to the next location. Remnants of these arrows are still found here and there, arousing curiosity among hikers and geocache hunters.

The first lighted airway beacon was installed in 1923; only five years later the earliest radio navigation aids began to spell the beacons’ obsolescence. Never hasty to abandon a proven system, the FAA did not decommission the last one until July 20, 1972, at Whitewater, California (near Palm Springs). The state of Montana, however, polled its pilot population and found that these aeronautical lighthouses were still valued as guides through the western mountains. Today, the Aeronautics Division of the Montana Department of Transportation maintains 16 beacons transferred from the Federal government – the only state to do so. The lights lead from Helena south to Monida Pass, north towards Great Falls, and west past Missoula to the Idaho state line. They bear romantic names like Mount Sentinel and Lookout Pass and are still shown on the Great Falls sectional chart.

Air Route Beacon in America by Air exhibition at the National Mall Building. Photo by Eric Long, Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum

The National Air and Space Museum received the last Federal airway beacon from the FAA in 1973, a year after it was taken out of service.  It stands in the America By Air gallery, rotating beacon flashing six times a minute, course lights patiently blinking long-long-short (“G”, meaning “nine”), as they have for over 70 years (see live web cam). The course lights are red, since there is no landing strip nearby, but the national aircraft collection has found a safe haven beside their beams nonetheless.

Anne McCombs is a restoration specialist in the Collections Division of the National Air and Space Museum.