ArgumentThe nineteenth century witnessed the advent of the modern zoo. Nearly everyone who came to watch the exotic animals was a “lay person” in the sense that virtually none had formal training in zoology. This paper provides a typology of these observers: the zoo directors, assistants, keepers, animal painters, and the “common” visitor. What did they observe and what were their motivations? Did they pursue a certain agenda? What kind of knowledge, if any, did they produce? Soon the issue of (...) the reliability of these observations emerged. Lay observers insisted on the veracity of their intimate and personal knowledge of animals while academics complained that their claims could not be generalized and were tainted by anthropomorphism. Hence the focus on the observations of these laymen will reveal contemporary assumptions on what may count as “scientific.” This is closely linked to the question of how far the zoo may qualify as a site of scientific investigation in the first place. The constraints on doing research on animals in a public space such as the zoo were numerous. Yet despite these obstacles the zoological garden contributed to the rise of ecological thinking as well as to the formation of ethology as a scientific discipline. (shrink)

Was the zoological garden a place for science in the 19th and 20th centuries? This question cannot be answered with a simple yes or no. Rather, this Special Issue suggests, we need to reconstruct how the concrete conditions of the zoo as an institution influenced, enabled, triggered, facilitated, obstructed, or impeded scientific research. The zoo was and is a multifunctional space serving different constituencies, such as scientists of different disciplines, artists, breeders, and the general public. This collection of articles argues (...) that despite or even because of its hybrid character, the zoo generated knowledge about exotic animals in often unexpected ways. This Special Issue conceives of “science at the zoo” as a an “impure,” yet very rich epistemic constellation with its very own dynamic, tensions, and contradictions. The first part of this introduction provides a historical overview of the topic. Synthesizing the existing secondary literature, it addresses the major themes of science at the zoo: the debate among scientists about the pros and cons of research conducted in and outside the cages; the gap between the promise of doing research at the zoo and the actual practices; and the emergence of new fields of knowledge such as zoo veterinary medicine, zoo biology, and conservation science. The introduction's second part draws out the common topics that connect the eight articles of this Special Issue: the multiplicity of spaces interacting with the zoo; the broad range of historical actors, including academics, animal traders, and zoo keepers; the changing roles of the zoo-going public; and the negotiation of authority and epistemic hierarchies in producing knowledge about zoo animals. The large numbers of zoos and the long temporal range these articles cover bring the constant evolution of “science at the zoo”-and hence its intrinsic historical dimension-to the fore. (shrink)

How does the newborn kangaroo get into the pouch after birth? This question was much discussed by naturalists around the globe between 1826, when Etienne Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire first addressed the issue, and 1926, when Ellis Troughton published a “definite” account of the debate. In its first part, this paper focuses on the investigations conducted at European zoos. The advent of kangaroos made it possible to investigate the riddle through observation. In the early 1830s, Richard Owen enlisted the aid of London (...) Zoo to devise a research programme. He claimed that the mother put the embryo into the pouch using her lips, and naturalists in other Europeans zoos were eager to confirm Owen's hypothesis. In its second part, this paper contrasts the zoo-based investigations with observations made in Australia. Hunters and animal traders claimed that the joey travelled into the pouch without any assistance from the mother. This case study allows us to address a number of overarching questions: Could the zoo live up to its promise to generate knowledge in natural history, challenging the classical method of anatomical dissection? What practical difficulties did naturalists and animal keepers face in their observations? How did the information on the reproduction of marsupials circulate (or not) between metropolitan centres and colonial outposts? The riddle of the kangaroo birth casts light on the potential and the limitations of the zoo as a site for research. (shrink)

ZusammenfassungIn dem Beitrag wird die These vertreten, dass die für Deutschland typische „biologische Perspektive“ (Lynn Nyhart) mit ihrem Interesse am lebenden Tier nicht nur die naturkundliche Praxis während der zweiten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts in vielfältiger Weise beeinflusste, sondern auch die Illustrationen der populären Zoologie, wie etwa in Brehms Thierleben, prägte: Die Zeichner bevorzugten als Modelle nun lebende Tiere, die sie in den zoologischen Gärten studierten; dabei stellten sie diese häufig in ihrer natürlichen Umgebung dar, die sie aus Mangel an (...) eigener Kenntnis aber imaginieren mussten. Ein weiteres beliebtes Genre in der populären Zoologie waren die Darstellungen von kämpfenden Tieren, die nicht zuletzt durch ihre Dramatik ins Auge fielen. Die ersten Tierfotografen orientierten sich an diesen Merkmalen der zoologischen Illustrationen und gaben ihren Aufnahmen mit Hilfe von Manipulationen, Inszenierungen und Retuschen den Eindruck von natürlicher Umgebung und Dramatik. Dennoch betonten sowohl Zeichner als auch Fotografen die Naturtreue und – darauf beruhend – den wissenschaftlichen Wert ihrer Abbildungen. Sie prägten damit eine „biologische“ Tierfotografie, die es nach der Jahrhundertwende engagierten Amateuren ermöglichte ein populäres Werk der heimischen Tierwelt zu schaffen, das breite Anerkennung fand. (shrink)