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Shuffleboard, Anyone? The Linnaean Society of New York and the Conservation Crisis of 1955

Presented by Andrew Rubenfeld at the at the regular meeting of the Linnaean Society of New York on January 13, 2015

Yellow-breasted chat just seen in Maintenance. American woodcock by Humming Tombstone. We know exactly where to go to get to these locations quickly. We take the Ramble’s geography for granted just as we take Central Park’s existence as a given. When Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux conceived the park in the 1850s, the 14-acre Ramble was designed to be a seemingly natural woodland on whose winding paths one could, well, ramble around big trees, abundant shrubs, tangled undergrowth, and a field here and there.

Don’t take anything for granted is the first axiom of environmentalism.

On May 30th, 1955, the New York Times ran the following item: “City’s Senior Citizens to Have a Recreational Center in Central Park.” According to New York City Parks Commissioner Robert Moses the Ramble was to be converted into a gated indoor and outdoor recreational center for “oldsters” aided by a $250,000 gift from the Lasker Foundation. The city agreed to spend an additional $200,000 to match the grant. 

Section of the 1955 Design Plan for the Ramble in Central Park

Look closely. Yellow-breasted chat in Maintenance? No, shuffleboard courts! American woodcock by Humming Tombstone? No, game tables! Plus croquet, horseshoes, a large state-of-the-architecture recreation building, and additional comfort stations. Moses said that Parks Department personnel with special understanding of the problems of the older generation would be assigned to the recreational facilities.

Within two weeks the Linnaean Society of New York was leading the opposition. Secretary Lois Hussey drafted a letter to Moses, noting that “the Ramble possesses considerable value as an ornithological study area unique in New York City and also as a wilderness area.” But in a memo to the Linnaean council she observed that “Moses doesn’t care a hoot about birders.” The Society’s conservation committee was opposed to any encroachment on the Ramble on an ornithological basis, but recognized that such opposition might make Moses, who was used to getting his way, “more determined than now to go ahead with the plan.” 

In the meantime coordinated letter and telephone efforts by Linnaean members contacted city officials from the mayor’s office to the city council—as well as the media. Linnaean president Irwin Alperin, who offered to meet with Moses, wrote to the New York Times on June 23rd. “Increasing population pressures and the vast expansion of suburban building make preservation of any natural park area within the city a vital necessity,” Alperin wrote. “The choice of site for this commendable project is unfortunate since the Ramble is a unique oasis for migrating birds unparalleled in this region. . . . The fencing . . . of the Ramble . . . will alter and restrict the activities of bird watchers to an alarming extent. It will be impossible to follow flying birds through this fence and certainly the necessity for running back and forth to the exit gates, as birds fly into and out of fenced areas, will make accurate observation a ludicrous performance.” The Times declined to print Alperin’s letter—but had no problem some months later with printing in the Sunday Magazine section a piece by Moses called “The Moses Recipe for Better Parks.” 

The battle for the Ramble continued through the summer and fall of 1955. The New Yorker and Cue magazines ran articles. Linnaean conservation chair Kathleen Skelton wrote to Alperin on September 14th: “I think the best thing to do is to keep the publicity going.” George Hallett, a member of the conservation committee, met with Mayor Wagner and Irwin Alperin wrote officially to the mayor on behalf of the Linnaean Society. “The Ramble is justly famous throughout America and in Europe too,” wrote President Alperin, “as a study area for ornithologists and for university and museum students. The continuity of decades of valuable records of observations is threatened by the proposed recreation center.”

By October opposition to the plan had gained momentum. In a New York Times article on October 2nd, entitled “Bird-Lovers Balk at Moses Project,” Richard E. Harrison (also a member of the Linnaean conservation committee) was described as “ridiculing” the idea of making the Ramble a haven for old people, pointing out that the area was one of the hilliest in the park. To get from the proposed new bus stop on the 79th Street transverse road to the proposed recreation building, Harrison observed, would be the equivalent of climbing seven flights of stairs. 

Two weeks later the New York Herald Tribune printed a point-by-point critique of the Moses plan by Harrison who emphasized that much of the Moses plan was at odds with the original Olmsted and Vaux vision of the park. Not only bird watchers, but landscape painters, dog walkers, bench sitters, and aimless strollers, he said, would be “bulldozed out of their heritage.” In late November Harrison took Manhattan borough president Hulan Jack on a tour of the Ramble, as reported in the Times.

The following day the Herald Tribune printed an op-ed piece entitled “Bird Watchers and Chess Players.” “One might imagine that the bird watchers and the chess players of this unsettled world have a good deal in common. Both pursue callings that are deliberate, delicate and, in a small way, dramatic. Most citizens hope that they can compose their differences amicably and with a minimum of hard feeling. For the bird watcher and the chess player alike can be a fearsome creature when aroused, and it would be a terrible thing to be caught in a struggle between them.”

By December the plan was all but dead. The environmental opposition was focused and well coordinated. But in the end it came down to money. The New York City Board of Estimate refused to allocate funds. Who would pay for long-term staff? Continuing security and maintenance? Repair of shuffleboard sticks? Lost checkers? Cynicism aside, the city did authorize nearly a quarter of million dollars to restore and protect the Ramble.

In his New York Times Magazine article of January 8, 1956 (mentioned earlier), Robert Moses claimed the last word. Referring to bird-watchers as “nature fanatics,” he added: “Dodo birds with feathers and with pink whiskers have had a field day to the delight of astonished spectators. . . . It’s a dead issue so far as my park boys are concerned. We have other work to do.”

Wrong. Not a “dead issue.” The Ramble and Central Park itself—Jamaica Bay, Sterling Forest, and other areas in our region—will always need our vigilance and support.

E. R. P. Janvrin and the Linnaean Society of New York archive 1915–1972

Presented by Patrick Baglee at the regular meeting of the Linnaean Society of New York on January 13, 2015

When I was around 8 years of age, one of my Mom’s chief ambitions for me was that I became archivist of the Royal family’s collection at Windsor Castle. Or Balmoral. In fact to be an archivist anywhere with a Royal connection would have been fine. 

Much to her chagrin, I showed more of an affinity with my father’s profession. He was a compositor, and one of his books (‘Printing Design and Layout’, by Vincent Steer) held me in such rapt fascination that the idea of life as a curator paled.

And yet, the essence of an archivist’s life must have remained dormant because when I was invited by the Linnaean Society’s vice president Andrew Rubenfeld to visit the Society’s archive at the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH), I accepted without hesitation. 

In the early summer of 2014, Andrew, fellow Linnaeaen Society member Anders Peltomaa and I arrived at the archive at the Ornithology Department of the AMNH to be greeted by our host Paul Sweet, Collections Manager, Vertebrate Zoology, Ornithology. Once we had signed in he led us to a rather unprepossessing grey filing cabinet tucked away in the office directly opposite his own. 

With other collection cabinets looming over it there is just enough room for one person to stand before the archive and reach inside to take out material. A solid built wooden desk in the adjacent room makes for a convenient place to lay out papers. Taking my turn in the narrow gap in front of the cabinet, I carefully looked it over from top to bottom.

Hard-bound books, two boxes containing reel-to-reel tapes, loosely packed office files and an old Amazon.com box were the first things to catch my eye. A number of royal blue hard-bound copies of the Proceedings of the Society were at eye level. Alongside them were older, gilt-edged volumes that contained page after page of diligent copperplate hand recording the payment of Society dues. 

Most impressive were around a dozen grey archival boxes, each neatly annotated, covering a wealth of Society correspondence, minutes and ephemera (all thanks — as I would later discover — to the hard work of Gil Schrank). But then something else caught my eye in the shadows at the back of the cabinet.

Tucked behind several volumes of Society proceedings, all but hidden from view, was a single manilla envelope. Alongside it were stacked 10 or so hard-bound books of different types, leaning to the left. Beside them was a cardboard folder tied with a pink ribbon. I reached in and lifted out the manilla envelope.

Inside were 15 notebooks, of varying shapes and sizes. Some were plain black, some wire bound and at the back was an A6 ring bound notebook with loose-leaf pages. Lifting them out, the first book (which fit snugly in my palm) was labelled ‘Dr Edmund R P Janvrin’s field notes of birds New York and Vicinity 1915-1916’. These books appeared to contain notes from the field. The larger notebooks ran from 1920 to 1968 and contained more comprehensive field trip accounts. The separate cardboard folder had a concertina-type arrangement to store its contents and held loose sheets covering all of Dr Janvrin’s observations of water birds in North America.

I took a close look at the first of the field notebooks. It opens on May 6th 1915 with Dr Janvrin’s sightings of Common Tern and Piping Plover at Long Beach. Each species is numbered in order of observation; four days later the species count rises to 11. The notebooks — at first glance — were fascinating. But I realised there was one thing I did not have a good grasp of; as a relatively recent member of the Society, and without intimate knowledge of New York ornithological circles, I was unaware of Dr Janvrin’s role and impact on the ornithological history of the city and the State. 

Taking the dates of his notebooks as reference, I consulted an early volume of the Proceedings and discovered (much to my embarrassment) that Dr Janvrin — as well as being a highly respected and very busy man of medicine — had performed practically all the significant roles within the Society. He was elected a member in 1918, served as Secretary from 1920-22, as Vice president from 1924-26, as President from 1926-27 and as Treasurer from 1931-35. He was re-elected to serve a second term as Vice-President from 1939–41, and made a Fellow in 1956 on the recommendation of Eugene Eisenmann. 

All told, he was a member of the organisation for 55 years. In his stint as President, he dealt with both Society and regional ornithological matters. In the winter of 1926 he wrote a letter, published in the New York Times, complaining about the wholesale slaughter of Snowy Owl during a major influx of the species on Long Island. 

His commitment as a field ornithologist also placed him in the pantheon of New York State birders. His observations were regularly cited in published works (Ludlow Griscom’s ‘Birds of the New York City Region’, published in 1923 being one example), and his familiarity with the birds and habitats of Long Beach made him an acknowledged expert on the area and its bird and wildlife (though his modest character would no doubt mean he would never outwardly claim the same). 

His tireless days in the field would lead him to make some exciting discoveries, most notably an Eared Grebe — at that time the first record of the species for the East Coast. A female King Eider was another prized sighting, though the supporting photograph of the bird serves only to indicate just how far photographic and optical equipment has come since the middle of the last century. 

Leafing through the larger more formal notebooks, I found other items of interest that Dr Janvrin had been keen to retain alongside his field notes. Press cuttings about specific events of ornithological interest — like the discovery of Harlequins at Point Lookout, a wreck of Dovekie in the city and the appearance of a Glossy Ibis in Van Cortlandt Park — are glued in at the appropriate date. His own photos of sites visited are also incorporated.

More personal still are dozens of pictures of himself and his family out birding in all seasons at Long Beach and elsewhere. There are Christmas cards from his daughters (including one of a very fetching Cedar Waxwing by Don Eckleberry). There’s even a picture of a new Ford from the 1940s. At the back of each of the larger notebooks is a cross referenced list of the places that Dr Janvrin had visited during that book’s period. 

The final notebook entry, dated August 23rd 1972, indicates that he was still an active field ornithologist well into his 80s and anecdotal remarks from other parts of the archive show he was still a regular attendee at Society meetings at the same time. When he passed away, at his summer home in Connecticut in 1973, an announcement was made to members of the Society during the September of that year. 

In preparing to give a short talk on the notebooks of Dr Janvrin to the Society in January 2015, I was fortunate enough — thanks to the help of Helen Hays — to make contact with Mary, Dr Janvrin’s surviving daughter. In a brief conversation, I was able to outline the topics I would cover in the talk, and she was both thrilled that her father’s devotion to natural history would be spoken about, and happy to support my efforts. She spoke warmly of the days the family would spend out in the field; of generous picnics, cold days on the coast and the shared love and respect for wildlife that she and her sister Natalie carried forward.

The opportunity to dip into the archive was a privilege. I was able to piece together a unique view of a significant figure in New York’s ornithological history, and I was able to better understand the social fabric of New York ornithology (and the importance of the Linnaean Society as one of its focalpoints). Most importantly, it gave me a glimpse of the potential riches that lie within the Society’s archive. I barely scratched the surface and yet even this cursory examination revealed a wealth of fascinating connections.

I can only begin to imagine what others might be inspired to unearth from within the archive’s modest environs.

Acknowledgements: with grateful thanks to Andrew Rubenfeld for the original invitation to visit the archive and for the opportunity to prepare a short lecture, delivered at the member’s meeting on January 13th and on which these notes are based; to Thomas Trombone, Lydia Geratano and Paul Sweet for their help in providing subsequent access to the archive, and to Helen Hays for her help and assistance. Finally, to Mary Janvrin, my sincere thanks for her support and encouragement.

Linnaean Homecoming, 2014

Linnaean Society of New York Homecoming Party on September 18, 2014, at the Cultural Center. A highlight of the evening was Richard ZainEldeen performing some of the original songs from the 1978 The Linnaean Society of New York annual dinner that marked the 100th anniversary of the society.

Parts of Viva Linnaeus presented by Richard ZainEldeen

Eurasian Collared-Dove by Patrick Baglee

Chelsea Waterside Park

To bird the Hudson at the end of 23rd Street you pass through Chelsea Waterside Park. Sandwiched between two busy roadways (11th Avenue and the West Side Highway) is a playing field, a basketball court, a small semicircular area with flowering plants, a picnic area and a recreational area for dogs and their owners.

On the morning of 3rd July at around 7.30 am, I noticed a pale dove making its way slowly across the southern edge of the playing field. The first thought that crossed my mind was that it might be a Eurasian Collared-Dove. I had just started filming the bird when a dog ran onto the field. The bird was spooked, and it took flight. 

Not aware of the status of Eurasian Collared-Dove in Manhattan, I emailed Andrew Rubenfeld, Eric Ozawa and Anders Peltomaa to let them know about the bird, and to discover whether this was a sighting of merit. It was quickly apparent that if it was a Eurasian Collared-Dove, the observation would be of wider interest. After posting the sighting on eBird, I submitted details of the sighting to the NYSARC.

Later that day Andrew Rubenfeld re-found the bird in the same area. Returning to the site, Andrew, Isaac Grant and I were able to take a good look at the bird and I got more footage of it preening in one of the trees over the planted area. Within the hour, the bird became less timid and showed very well on the paths.

In correspondence over the next few hours it was important to establish the bird was definitely an example of Eurasian Collared-Dove. In this respect, first impressions were important, and having had continuous experience of this species in the UK, assigning it to the Eurasian form was an instinctive reaction.

However, in the case of a bird out of range (and, arguably, a birder), or on occasions where other similar species may have to be considered, it was important to fall back on careful observation and other evidence.

There were potential confusion species that needed to be ruled out. The African Collared-Dove was the most likely alternative, but it lacks the richness of color and dark undertail of Eurasian. Compared to Mourning Dove, the general impression would be that Eurasian Collared-Dove is more upright and strong shouldered. Mourning Dove also tend to carry themselves more horizontally with nervier, less deliberate movements.

Other factors in favor of Eurasian Collared-Dove were the darker wings (especially in the brief flight views, where the darker primaries on the upper side of the wings were more obvious set against the paler inner wing, turning sandy brown towards the shoulder). Bare part coloration is not necessarily crucial in the identification, or in separation from other species when combined with other features, but the legs and feet could best be described as fleshy coral red, and the bill, black.  There was a very pale, white ring around the eye. Seen well, the iris is red. The bird gave no vocalizations on this occasion.

Angus Wilson saw the bird later on the 3rd in the “habitat area” which is on the west side of the West Side Highway, parallel with 26th–27th Streets and is part of the same Pier 63 Park, just north of Chelsea Piers. The bird was seen again on the morning of July 4th by Megan Gavin. 

At time of writing the bird continues, being seen by a steady flow of admirers, either on the western side of the West Side Highway, in and around the rock garden overlooking the Hudson, or in and around the grassy verges in the play areas between 11th Avenue and the West Side Highway at the end of 23rd Street.

In a subsequent visit, I filmed the bird vocalizing; a steady ‘hoo-hooo-hoo’ that is at the lower end of a flute’s register in quality and tone.

It is very likely that this is the same bird found and photographed on the 22nd June by David J. Ringer, to whom the original sighting and identification must be credited.

Angus Wilson offered some insights into both range and likely origins of the bird in his report of July 3rd to eBird, distributed on the 5th to subscribers.

Eurasian Collared-Dove, July 3, 2014 © Patrick Baglee

Least Terns by Megan Gavin

Oyster Bay, Long Island — 6/23/2014

10:35 am — A Northern Mockingbird repeatedly opened and closed its wings while foraging on the dune behind the Least Tern nest, a shallow scrape in the beach sand and pebble near Oyster Bay, Long Island. One of the terns had made several menacing in flight passes the day before when I walked too close to the nest.

Heat rising from the sand distorted the dune grass. The parent on the nest gaped and changed orientation roughly every five minutes. Voices of golfers from the abutting course carried on a weak breeze. Within a half hour, two separate groups of men in pastel-colored shorts had searched the dunes for errant golf balls within 15 feet of the nest. A local Audubon representative in an email had promised to notify the DEC, which would later erect a protective enclosure. For now, the two speckled eggs were nearly invisible in the small depression when the parent rose up to harry the golfers.

11:11 am — A shift change. One tern alighted on the sand and settled on the nest. The other, relieved from duty, flew to the east. I walked to the west, towards home.

Least Tern © Megan Gavin

The Unfeathered Bird, Review by Chuck McAlexander

The Unfeathered Bird
Katrina van Grouw
Princeton University Press, 2013

The first thing you notice about this book is the alert and watchful attitude of the male Indian Peafowl (or peacock) on the dust jacket. He is dark and jagged, dangerous looking and has a full set of ghostly display feathers that make his head come off the page in your direction. He is staring at you with no eyes. He is, after all, a skeleton and the threat he poses is more of a dare. He seems to ask, “Do you have the nerve to see what’s inside? It might change your appreciation of your beloved birds. And change is always risky.” 

The skill to create this masterful drawing along with the intelligence and nerve to use it in such an important place are indicative of the high level of work and unfettered creativity to be found inside. The drawings reveal detail and shape so well you feel you should be able to pick up the bones and rotate them for better understanding. Even more impressive is the way artist/author van Grouw manages to get a drawing of a skeleton to impart something of the behavior of the bird. Or maybe, by revealing such detail of form, she is demonstrating the way structure and behavior are linked, influencing each other in an eternal dance of changes. This might be one of the reasons the book exists at all. 

In fact, she says just that in the introduction, but not until after she rushes to reassure the squeamish that there are no “guts or gizzards” included in the book. While this is technically accurate, there is a gray area where you could accuse her of transgressing the spirit of the statement. The “ick” response is generally triggered by the presence of soft tissue, especially if it looks wet or slimy. You will find windpipes (tracheae), tongues, voice boxes (syrinxes or syringes) and muscles in some of the drawings. Probably the worst offender is the Trumpet Manucode (p. 278, a bird-of-paradise) with its “extraordinary coiled windpipe” which may well be taken for a pile of intestines were it not for the neatness of the coil. Thus, the extremely sensitive reader might be bothered by this breach. To her credit, however, van Grouw made these soft parts as dry as the bones, but still just as alive. Her treatment is well within the spirit of her promise. 

Her second disclaimer, that there is “no biochemistry and very little physiology” is completely accurate. I did, however, have to crack open my Webster’s 11th to be sure of that. It would indeed be difficult to cover much biochemistry or physiology without the organs, tissues and cells, a.k.a. “guts and gizzards” dispensed with in the first disclaimer. So, having fenced off these two big areas of anatomy from our fragile senses, what remains? Morphology – and the book has it in spades. 

The organization of the material in the book is as logical as it is delightfully unorthodox. Rather than covering the various aspects of avian structure in modern taxonomic order she reaches back to “the first truly scientific classification of the natural world – the Systema Naturae of Linnaeus”. What her book has in common with that one is a concern with outward appearances and the structures which form them. She invokes the concept of convergent evolution as an explanation of the underlying logic. It serves well. However, if you are disturbed by this heresy, try to remember this is ostensibly an art book. It just happens to have a more than generous helping of clear, understandable text to help you comprehend what is in the drawings. 

The book is divided into two uneven parts. The small first part uses more familiar species, to Europeans at least, to demonstrate and explain the basic structures common to all birds. Van Grouw is thorough but doesn’t belabor the point she is making. As an example, there are six drawings revealing the left leg and foot of a Mallard covering two adjacent pages (pp. 16-17). The text describes how the leg fits together and how it articulates, but it is all in plain English, with little reliance on technical nomenclature. She does call a “thigh bone” a femur, but a hip is still a hip and a knee is a knee. She wants you to understand the basic structure so when you look at the leg of another bird, a Southern Screamer for example, you see the same parts, but also the differences – that is, after all, the point of the book. She isn’t trying to bury you in information. To prove my point (and belabor it a bit), she describes the scaly, unfeathered part of a bird’s legs and feet, but did not once use the term podotheca. 

The second, and by far the larger part of the book, describes anatomical structures found in birds with shared behaviors or niches and therefore, similar adaptations. Obviously, there isn’t room for treatment of every species with a shared feature, so van Grouw describes the basic elements using a single species. Then she brings in descriptions of variations on that theme using both image and text. When you have finished reading the section and looking at the drawings you haven’t learned how to differentiate a Mallard from a scoter, but you know they are as different as they are similar. You can pick up an incredible cache of information if you want it, but that isn’t a requirement for enjoying the book.

Perhaps the one feature that distinguishes this collection of bird drawings from others is van Grouw’s ability to show how all these bones relate to each other in a live bird. Each skeleton exudes the nature – personality if you will allow it – of the species it is. You can feel the weight of a heavy bird like the Maribou Stork (p. 176); likewise the lack of it in the White-throated Hummingbird (p. 81). The Common Black-headed Gull (p. 151) has its bill open, its neck a little extended, and its wings a bit out and down. You can almost hear it complaining. The same is true for the Jackass Penguin (pp. 112-113) only its upside-down head is tucked under its belly as if it were braying at something low and behind it. These are very believable, active poses you are not going to find elsewhere. 

Van Grouw’s sense of humor adds to the mix, too. High on the list in this category is a skeleton Budgerigar (p. 57) perched on a dowel, not a branch, looking at itself in a mirror with an attached bell. I won’t try to explain it. It’s too deep and too funny all at the same time. There is also a Eurasian Sparrowhawk (p. 40), no feathers, with a Eurasian Collared Dove in its talons – caption: “Feathers removed and feathers being removed.” Priceless! 

Finally, the book ends with European Robin (p. 282) – dare I say “Cock Robin” – and he (it) is most assuredly dead. As dead, in fact, as all the others are alive. It’s as though van Grouw intended to accentuate the lack of life in this drawing just to point out how much of it there is on the preceding pages. The point was well made. All that remains is the index, but even there a Mallard is laughing at you to begin it and showing you its backside to end it. You get the feeling he’d stick out his tongue if he had one. It would be easy to dismiss this work as “just another coffee table book” if you didn’t look at anything but its size and shape. And certainly, it would serve well in that capacity, but there is much more to this volume than some pretty pictures and some words nobody will care to read. There is a synergy of element and effort in this work that produced a volume I will treasure for a long, long time. 

To Katrina van Grouw, I say bravo. And thank you. Now, get to work on the one with guts and gizzards. I can hardly wait. 

The Warbler Guide, Review by Joseph DiCostanzo

The Warbler Guide
Tom Stephenson and Scott Whittle, Drawings by Catherine Hamilton
Princeton University Press, 2013

The Warbler Guide joins an ever-growing list of reference guides aimed at aiding in the identification of single groups of birds. Seabirds, hawks, shorebirds, hummingbirds, pigeons, woodpeckers, and sparrows, to name just a few, have all had guides covering them published in the last twenty to thirty years. Some groups have had multiple treatments. Indeed, this is not the first treatment for New World warblers. That distinction probably goes to Warblers of the Americas: An Identification Guide by Jon Curson, David Quinn, and David Beadle (1994, Houghton Mifflin Co.), closely followed in time by Warblers by Jon Dunn and Kimball Garrett (1997, Houghton Mifflin Co.). Though both books were from the same publisher, the former covered the entire family including Central and South American species, while the latter (part of the Peterson Field Guides series) covered only species north of the Mexican border, as does the new Stephenson and Whittle book. 

The two earlier warbler guides followed an older field guide tradition of being illustrated exclusively, or nearly so, by paintings while the new guide uses photographs. I must confess to a longstanding bias towards artwork over photographs in field guides. 

However, the tremendous increase in the capability of photography with the advent of digital technology and the huge increase in the availability of quality photographs is forcing me to reevaluate my old biases, at least for some uses. I still think good artwork works best for the traditional field guide, especially for new birders and country wide guides. But for specialty guides focusing on specific groups such as this guide, the ability to present over a thousand photographs as this guide does, showing birds from many different angles demonstrates that photography is adding new dimensions to the identification guide. Artwork, however, is not completely obsolete. There are two pages (pp. 114-115) of drawings illustrating undertails by Catherine Hamilton as well as two pages of silhouettes (pp. 544-545) and probably hundreds of drawn icons. 

In its use of photographs this guide seems to me to be like the recent Crossley Guides (The Crossley Guide: Eastern Birds by Richard Crossley (2011) and The Crossley Guide: Raptors by Richard Crossley, Jerry Liguori, and Brian Sullivan (2013), both Princeton University Press). These books are attempting to give the birder the kind of broad experience with seeing birds from many angles and situations that in the past was only possible with years of field experience. While they can certainly help immensely with that goal there is still no substitute for actual time spent in the field. 

The first thing that needs to be said about this guide is that it is not a field guide! This is in no way meant as a criticism. I don’t think the authors intended birders to be carrying this guide around in their back pockets – it is just too big and heavy for that! It will, however, become I believe, a constantly used resource for the vast amount of information contained in it about warbler ID. The book begins with 130 pages of introductory material on the organization of the book, what to look for in identifying warblers, ageing and sexing warblers and the single largest section, learning and identifying warbler songs, chip notes and flight calls. The information is generally clearly presented and often extensively and well-illustrated. I did note a small handful of things that I thought were slips or odd choices. There is a well done and fairly extensive four page (pp. 12-15) “Topographic Tour” labeling the various parts and feather groups and the terms for them that will be important in understanding identification points in the main species accounts. However, four pages later in a section on “Facial contrast” the captions of the illustrations of Townsend’s and Blackthroated Green warblers refer to “auriculars”, but that term is not defined until p. 27. In the topography section the auriculars are labeled “cheek patch”. A similar mixing of terms occurs on p. 27 where in a photo of the head of a male Blackburnian Warbler it is described as having a “Distinctive triangular cheek patch” while on p. 28 a female Blackburnian is described with “dark facial marks form a triangular pattern”. I also found a couple of the choices of species to illustrate points to be a little odd. On p. 26 a photograph merely labeled “Redstart” is used to illustrate the behavior of flashing tail and wing feathers while feeding. The “Redstart” pictured is a Painted Redstart from the southwest. Why not use a picture of an American Redstart, a far more common and widespread bird that many birders will encounter? Similarly, on p. 30 the bird chosen to illustrate “eyelines” is a Golden-cheeked Warbler which has a limited range in Texas. Why not a Blue-winged Warbler, widespread in the eastern United States? These are I admit minor points and I have had enough experience with publishing that I suspect a number of these choices may have been made by photo editors, rather than the authors. 

The heart of the introductory material is the large section on warbler vocalizations. In teaching warbler songs, rather than the transliterations (i.e. a Yellow Warbler’s sweet, sweet, oh so sweet) used in most guides, the authors use sonograms, an illustrative method pioneered in field guides by Chandler Robbins, Bertel Bruun and Herbert Zim in their classic Birds of North America field guide (1966, Golden Press). However, Stephenson’s and Whittle’s use of sonograms is far more extensive and elaborate than in that earlier guide. Serious warbler students will want to download the companion audio files available for $5.99 from the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology’s Macaulay Library website at: macaulaylibrary.org/guide/the-warbler-guide.

The introductory material ends with an extensive set of usually double page “quick finder” charts to aid in rapidly narrowing down an identification of a warbler. There are spreads of photos of warbler faces, full profiles of side views, 45° angle views, underside views, and illustrations of spring and fall eastern warblers and one spread of western species. These are followed by the previously mentioned two pages of undertail drawings. Finally, in keeping with the authors stress on learning warbler vocalizations there are 22 pages of sonogram “finder charts” to help in narrowing down and identifying warbler songs, chip notes and flight calls. I cannot in this short review do justice to the authors’ extensive and truly impressive organization and presentation of this sonogram material. All of this is introductory to the extensive presentation of sonograms of warbler songs in each individual species account to be found in the main part of the book. The coverage of warbler vocalizations is truly the most ground-breaking part of this very impressive guide. 

The main part of the book is, of course the actual species accounts. Once again, the authors use an innovative approach in their arrangement of the species accounts. Rather than a traditional taxonomic sequence found in many guides or some arbitrary arrangement by color or habitat or some other chosen character, the species are arranged alphabetically by English name. When I saw this arrangement upon first opening the book I was prepared not to like it, being a traditionalist and usually favoring a taxonomic sequence, but the more I used the book the more I found the arrangement quite handy. There is a two-page (pp. 540-541) presentation of the current thinking on warbler taxonomy. 

The individual species accounts contain information on field marks, close-up photos of “Distinctive Views”, a section of “Additional Photos”, a section on “Comparison Species”, a section on ageing and sexing, range maps, and of course, an extensive presentation of sonograms of songs with comparisons to similar songs of other 

species. A problem I found with some of the range maps is that where a river forms the boundary between states, the river is shown, but not the heavier line of the state border. This can be confusing, especially along the Rio Grande on the Texas/Mexico border. 

At the back of the book are some pages on “Similar Non-warbler Species”, two pages on hybrid warblers (though Brewster’s and Lawrence’s, included here, already had a spread in the main species accounts), a quiz and review section, flight photos and discussion, charts of measurements and habitat and behavior information and a glossary. 

Two-page accounts for seven warbler species found only on the US/Mexico border (Crescent-chested, Fan-tailed, etc.) are included in the back of the book after the Yellow-throated Warbler account, though the Table of Contents in the front places them in alphabetical order with the rest. There is no mention that this is a section of border rarities. These seven accounts contain a glaring layout error: for each species the three “ Additional Photos” are unlabeled on the bottom of the first page of the write-up and the “Comparison Species” photos at the top of the second page are mislabeled as “Distinctive Views”. 

Overall, this is a very impressive guide and the few problems I have noted can be easily corrected in later printings or editions. 


More on the Warbler Guide

In my review of The Warbler Guide by Tom Stephenson and Scott Whittle (2013, Princeton University Press) in the October 2013 issue of the Linnaean News-Letter, I mentioned among the many features of the book a series of two page “quick finders” that compare various views of warblers. These “quick finders” are available online as free downloads from the website thewarblerguide.com. They are available in either PDF or JPG file formats. Also available for free download at the website is a PDF file of a four page guide to ageing and sexing of fall eastern warblers. In addition to thumbnail photographs illustrating various plumages and brief descriptions of the relevant marks to look for, the guide lists which species cannot be aged and/or sexed in the fall. 

After the October issue of the News-Letter came out, Linnaean member Rick Wright informed me of a major paper on warbler songs by Lynds Jones published in The Wilson Bulletin over a hundred years ago (Jones, L. 1900. Warbler Songs. Wilson Bulletin 12(1):156). As in the new Stephenson and Whittle guide, Jones attempted to simplify the learning of warbler songs by grouping the species by characteristics of the songs with no regard to the then accepted taxonomic arrangement of the warblers. Jones describes the songs of forty-six species, stating that “eleven species [have] yet to be studied.” The Jones paper can be downloaded at sora.unm.edu/node/3075. The paper is a fascinating look at the state of knowledge of warbler songs before the advent of modern aids such as recordings and sonograms. I thank Rick for bringing it to my attention. 

Birders: The Central Park Effect, Review by Helen Hays

Birders: The Central Park Effect
A Film by Jeffrey Kimball
Music Box Films, 2012

On occasion an individual has a vision coupled with the ability and drive to translate their vision into something we can all feel and understand. Jeffrey Kimball, Society member and former Council member, has done this in his excellent film Birders: The Central Park Effect. Jeff shot, wrote the narration, produced, and directed the film, scheduled to be shown at the Society’s meeting on January 8, 2013. Daniel Baer edited the film. Jeff’s wife, Pamela Hogan, and Tom Casciato are the executive producers. Since starting the film five years ago, Jeff has been totally committed to it. Working about half of each year on the film for the first four years, he took out a bank loan in the fifth year so he could work full time on the film and finish it.

In his film Jeff highlights the green habitat that is Central Park in the midst of Manhattan’s concrete pavements and buildings. It is an area for recreation for New Yorkers, as well as a valuable habitat for migrant and resident birds. Jeff concentrates on the birds and birders in Central Park. His camera work is excellent. His narration and dialogue lead the viewer though the park in different seasons of the year, underlining through remarks by the people birding in the park, what a wonderful habitat it is for birds and birders.

Jeffrey Kimball © 2012 Joe DiCostanzo

Jeff was born in San Francisco and grew up in the Bay area. In high school he played drums in a band, but said he didn’t have a sense of rhythm. He also tried acting, but felt self-conscious in front of a camera. He went to Stanford for his undergraduate work. The summer between high school and college was a turning point for him. He became aware that what he really wanted to do was go into film. That summer he discovered three films, among the many he watched, that he found fascinating: A Clockwork OrangeCasablanca, and Chinatown. He found a different thing interesting in each. In A Clockwork Orange he admired how the music and visuals were used to create a technical tour de force. Casablanca had a compelling story and in Chinatown the camera work and music were skillfully combined to create a mood. That fall he entered college and took a course in film aesthetics. Later his first film production course was in the making of documentaries.

At twenty-five Jeff came to New York to enter New York University for his Master of Fine Arts in film. He met his wife, Pamela Hogan, who makes documentaries, in the larger film community of New York City. While living and working in New York, Jeff still does a lot of work in California, returning to San Francisco several times a year. When he began working he worked in editing rooms for a variety of types of films before doing music for feature films. He organized the music for among others, Good Will HuntingA Bronx TaleFlirting with Disaster, and Swingers.

While in New York Jeff signed up for Joe DiCostanzo’s American Museum of Natural History bird walks in Central Park. He was delighted at the number of birds it was possible to see there every day. During the winter after he joined Joe’s walks, Chuck McAlexander called him and asked him if he wanted to go birding in the park in January. Jeff must have hesitated, because Chuck assured him you could see birds in Central Park in the winter. They saw twenty-six species that day. Again, Jeff was impressed and excited that here was a place in the middle of New York City where you could see birds any day of the year and both his wife and Tom Casciato told him he had reached a stage where he was in a position to make a movie on the birds of Central Park. And so it began…

Jeff knew he wanted to film many birds for his production, and thought he might have to film birds in other places, and then include them by noting that they were also found in Central Park. As he worked he found there was no need to film elsewhere and he took many beautiful shots of birds, all in Central Park. After two years he had enough footage of birds for the film and began filming people birding in Central Park. There were definitely talking points he hoped to bring out in interviewing birders in the park and wrote out questions before he met people to walk and talk in the park. Sometimes he was surprised by the answers he elicited. When I saw the film I was impressed by how articulate the people involved were, which, in part, is a tribute to Jeff’s skilled questioning in combination with excellent editing by Daniel Baer. Jeff said often the characters in the film came together in the editing room. All the people in the film sound natural and seem to be enjoying themselves.

In the first version of the film there was no narration. Those who attended a screening in 2011 thought narration would help to move visuals along, as for example, to make changes in seasons clear. Jeff world premiered his film at the South by Southwest Festival in Austin Texas in mid-March of 2012. HBO picked up the domestic TV rights to his film for a year. HBO will be premiering the film on July 16, 2012 at 9:00 pm. It will then be available on HBO On Demand. They have exclusive rights for six months and after that it can be shown on iTunes or available on DVD. A number of other groups have expressed an interest in Birder’s: The Central Park Effect, so stay tuned.

Jeff fits birding in when traveling with his family by birding early and returning in time to have breakfast with everyone. When his sixteen year old son, Ryder, saw Birder’s: The Central Park Effect, he said: “I get it, I get why you do it.” which pleased Jeff because he is concerned people understand the importance of parcels of land like Central Park and the value to humans and to wildlife in saving them. Jeff’s stepson, Aaron Profumo, will enter the Yale Drama School this fall, an exciting step for the whole family. Who knows, in the future Jeff and his stepson may meet on a set on opposite sides of the camera!

When Jeff finished Birders: The Central Park Effect he treated himself to a trip to Texas where he saw seventeen life birds.

As noted above, Geoffrey Nulle has scheduled a showing of Birders: The Central Park Effect for the Linnaean meeting on January 8, 2013. It is a documentary that has never been done before; a film you shouldn’t miss. Bring your friends. If they are not birders they will see an aspect of the park new to them. If they are birders they will appreciate Jeff’s focus on the park as a wonderful place for birds and birders, something to be valued and protected!