Part One: A Visit to The Lepidoptera Collection
On my first visit to WA Museum’s Collections and Research Centre in Welshpool, I waited at reception to meet entomologist and head curator, Dr Nikolai Tatarnic. My bag was heavy with sketchbooks, art supplies, my camera and snacks. I didn’t know what to expect, what type of supplies I could use and where, so I wanted to be ready for all possibilities.
I found out from the receptionist that Dr Nik was in fact not in the building or even in the city, but on a flight back from the far north of WA, and would be in as soon as he landed. When Dr Nik arrived, he introduced himself and explained that he and his team had been camping in remote areas only accessible by helicopter, collecting specimens during the wet season.
“So would you like a tour?” he offered. “Yes!” I said, extremely excited to explore the building.
Giant freezer, minus forty
The first thing Dr Nik showed me was a very important room; a giant freezer! He explained that everything that comes into the collection has to spend two weeks quarantined in the freezer, to ensure contamination is not introduced into the collection.
Being Australian born and raised, I wanted to feel what minus forty degrees Celcius felt like. I took a peek inside, and with the door still open, I stepped past the threshold. Lots of shelving, a bench, and a few forms were wrapped in tarps on the ground. The air smelt cold, with a twang of death.
The ‘wet’ collection
We then ventured further into a massive, bizarre and glorious, brightly-lit Harry Potter-esque library! It contained shelf after shelf, filled to the ceiling with every type of organism floating in glass jars, meticulously labelled and surprisingly delightful. The shelves are on rollers so they can stack against each other to maximize space.
Dr Nik rolled out and led me down multiple shelves, pointing things out as we went. He explained how every single creature must be carefully barcoded and able to be referenced like a book in a library. Researchers quote the specific references in their scientific research papers so their work can be built upon, verified and referenced in the future.
The Entomology Lab
In the entomology lab, sunlight streamed in through the large windows that stretched along one wall. Long benches ran at right angles, and everything was white and crisp and clean. Some scientists and lab techs were talking quietly, getting on with their work. It felt peaceful. Lining every shelf and surface in sight were cases, boxes and jars of insects. I didn’t know where to look first! It was heavenly.
Dr Nik pointed out his bench in the lab, where he’d been working away on various projects. He picked up a small box to show me, and inside were row upon row of tiny insects positioned on slim pins; the specimens he had just collected from up north. It felt precious, like a box of tiny treasures.
Dr Nik’s specialty is ‘assassin bugs’. Their name is accurate; deadly little alien looking predators. Every single species has some sort of bizarre and complex hunting strategy. It’s an entire world I had no idea existed. He shared story after story of the tiny creatures in front of us, pointing them out as he went.
A brilliant story-teller, with an incredible breadth of knowledge and enthusiasm, his stories draw you into their tiny world, and you feel invested in their lives and survival. Experiencing this moment with Dr Nik in the lab, discovering the lives and intricacies of these specimens, really inspired me. I realized, if I can make others feel that sense of curiosity through my art, that would be a wonderful thing.
Dr Nik pulled out one of the pins which had a small piece of white card attached to it. On the tip of the card was a mere speck; a tiny, black bug. He placed it under the microscope and told me, “You have to see this”. He looked down the microscope, adjusting the focus and lights for me, then stepped back so I could take a look. I gasped when I saw it. I looked up at him with my mouth open in amazement. I looked down at the tiny speck with my naked eye and then back through the microscope, pouring over its details. Below the lens, curving up towards me in three dimensions, sat the most incredible sculptural creature, like black stone with intricately carved and perfectly spaced divots, shining in the light.
Nature makes the best art of all, I thought.
The bizarre walk
We then took a truly bizarre walk to the ‘dry collection’. This involved crossing from the modern building into the warehouses, where the unused items from the museum collection are stored away. We took turn after turn after turn, Nik’s swipe card beeping at various access points. We went down dimly lit corridors, past taxidermy animals, a massive termite mound that towered overhead, antique furniture, small boats, pieces of meteor and moon rock.
The ‘dry’ collection
We made it to the dry collection, where rows and rows of cabinets were filled with drawers of pinned insects. Dr Nik explained how the collection works and how to safely handle the drawers, and we remarked on the beautiful patterns or bizarre features. It was such a fun experience.
Strictly no water is allowed in the ‘dry collection’, so I was glad that I packed my pencils as well as my paints!
A cabinet of my dreams…
Nik led me over to a cabinet at the front to the room, “Would you believe,” he said “That only recently, fifty boxes of insects, mostly moths, have been donated by Mike Payne from Albany, for the collection. We have yet to sort and label them, but they are all here. You can take a look and see if there is anything you would like to look at”.
I was so happy, as my intention was always to study species relevant to my local area and community in the Great Southern, to bring back these insights and further explore with the community later. I carefully looked at box after box, and selected three to take to the upstairs lab to investigate the next day.
I could not have been happier or more grateful that Dr Nik had spent his day showing me around, sharing his knowledge and answering my millions of questions. I asked him to carry all the boxes upstairs for me, because I was so terrified of dropping them!
It was nearly closing time, so we had to be out. I was told I could come back as much as I wished, and given a desk with beautiful light to work at. I was offered a microscope to use and access to the entire lepidoptera (butterfly and moth) collection. The possibilities of what I might discover felt endless.
Stay tuned for part two, where Chelsea will share her discoveries looking deeply at the Lepidoptera Collection, in particular moths local to Kinjarling /Albany in Western Australia, where she calls home.
Learn more about our residency program
Chelsea’s residency is made possible through the Regional Exhibition Touring Boost with support from the WA Government and delivered by ART ON THE MOVE in partnership with Museum of Great Southern and North Metropolitan TAFE.