DEAR AINSWORTH,

You don't know me. I am writing to you from 125 years in the future and I would like to thank you. I have long felt the need to thank someone. You might not even realize what you've done, and you certainly might not understand the magnitude of the consequences of what might have been a fleeting decision.

It's strange. Often you don't register the important moments in your life as they happen. Only when you look back do you see that they were important. How certain moments were clearly an ending, and how others were the beginning of something. The shadow line, Joseph Conrad called it, that line you know you've crossed only after you've crossed it and can look back over it. Like the invisible line between adolescence and adulthood. Like the equator. And in your case, like the invention of cinema. It's hard for us to imagine now, but it took a while to figure out what cinema was. Was the new invention an extension of an existing medium or was it something different? The 20-year period between 1893 and 1912 now marks that shadow line. In 1864, you were 49 years old when Abraham Lincoln appointed you the 6th Librarian of Congress. You also acted as the Register of Copyrights—not by title but in practice, as that job had not yet been made a formal position.

By advocating for the passage of the Copyright Law of 1870, you made it your quest to move all US Copyright activities that were once dispersed among the Smithsonian Institution and the Patent Office to the Library of Congress. The new law required all Copyright applicants to send the Library two copies of their work. You argued that if both copies were mailed directly to Washington fresh off the press, instead of having to go through their authors’ District Courts, the labor involved would be cut by half. You also argued that having copyright records readily available where their related publications are stored would simplify and facilitate reference to the utmost degree. The number, too, of copyright publications issued in the United States would now be known, and such a precise accounting would prevent copyrights from being invalidated.

INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY (OR “IP”) law is the set of laws that primarily encompasses copyright, patent, and trademark law. It also includes trade secrets and publicity rights. It is one of the most important structuring systems in modern society, as it underpins vast industries such as aerospace, architecture, pharmaceutics, media, and entertainment. It is the locus of concerns about counterfeiting and piracy, it grounds arguments about trade, export, and competition, and it is at the core of discussions over knowledge-based economies, and policies relating to creativity and innovation.

IP laws are all about us, but go mostly unrecognized. They are complicated and arcane, and few people understand why they should care about, for example, copyright law, the grant of a patent, or the registration of a trademark. The IP system didn't exist in its modern form until the 18th century, and as recently as 1945, it was only important to a tiny group of people—newspaper proprietors, film studios, engineering firms, and toothpaste companies. Nowadays, the IP System profoundly affects global trade, and enables trillions of dollars of commerce. These laws define the modern era; without them we wouldn't have famous brands like Coca-Cola or Sony, the internet would not exist, and we wouldn't have an iPhone in our pocket.

50 OBJECTS

In this book, we have brought together a group of contributors who have been drawn not only from law and history, but also from sociology, media studies, horticulture, science and technology studies, among others, while spanning a wide geographical range. In their chapters, they address the different IP regimes to tell a history of IP in 50 objects.

These objects demonstrate the importance of the IP System. They invite questions about various aspects of its multifaceted development. The objects show us how IP has developed and worked within human history, and show its influence on a ränge of historical events, developments, and movements. And perhaps most importantly, they are at the core of some great stories.

ABSTRACT

While the digitization of archival films has been practiced for more than a decade, there is still a lack of academic rigour in this field, both on a scientific as well as on an interdisciplinary level. Therefore, we are in need of a better understanding of basic principles, both technological and aesthetic, that guide the many decisions taken throughout the process. This paper presents three interconnected research projects that investigate these topics with a comprehensive approach. Based on thorough analyses of the technology, physics, and aesthetics of film colours, this material-based approach connects these diverse disciplines with the aim to translate the appearance of analogue film colours into the digital domain.

KEYWORDS

film, colours, aesthetics, technology, digital, restoration

While the digitization of archival films has been practiced for more than a decade, there is still a lack of academic rigour in this field, both on a scientific as well as on an interdisciplinary level. In the specific case of translating early colours into the digital domain, curators and service providers have found practical solutions to the many related obstacles and diverse requirements. However, we are in need of a better understanding of basic principles, both technological and aesthetic, that guide the many decisions to be taken along the process. This paper presents three interconnected research projects that investigate these topics.

In her recent text The Archival Life of Early Color Films, Giovanna Fossati writes with regard to the digitization of tinted material:

One of the main causes of this problem is the complexity of the task. Research in this field has to consider a wide array of disciplinary approaches, from chemistry, physics, and IT, to aesthetic and historical aspects, and not the least, psychophysical questions of colour perception and colour appearance.