Sunday NewsLancaster
Jack Hubley
http://www.lancnews.com
06/27/99
(Copyright 1999 Lancaster Newspapers)

Sometimes it's the little things. Nearly 40 years ago Kjell Sandved was perched atop a ladder in the Smithsonian Institution examining the collection of butterflies and moths when he popped the lid on a cigar box and an F hit him smack between the eyes.

It was a tiny F, formed by the pattern of silvery scales on the wing of an orange sphinx moth. He photographed the letter and hung a print at his desk in the Smithsonian.

But it was a year and a half later when he started thinking about the other 25 letters. Could the lepidopterans (moths and butterflies) be sporting the entire alphabet on their wings? Kjell resolved to find out. It was bound to be a long journey, but the Norwegian already had one of those to his credit.

Born "on the most beautiful fjord in the world," in Norway, Kjell (pronounced shell) built a successful publishing business, with two encyclopedias to his credit. But when he decided to publish an encyclopedia of wildlife, he soon concluded that he'd have to travel to America to buy photos. He crossed the ocean in the spring of 1960, visiting museums in Chicago and Philadelphia, before arriving at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C.

But the curator told Kjell that the Smithsonian had no photos to sell and suggested that the Norwegian shoot his own. "I'd never taken a picture in my life," says Kjell. But, when a recommendation from the Norwegian foreign minister gets you access to a collection as extensive as the Smithsonian's, it's time to learn how to exploit the opportunity.

So the publisher taught himself how to take pictures, eventually joining the Smithsonian as a staff photographer and lecturer. On the job he spent much of his time documenting the research conducted by the Smithsonian's scientists. After hours he conducted his own research, scouring reference books and collections of the world'sbutterflies and moths for wings wearing the letters of the alphabet or the arabic numerals 0 through 9.

So, you're probably wondering, if the letters and numerals can be found on insects neatly cataloged in museum collections, why travel the world to take their pictures? From a distance, mounted specimens look OK, but a close-up view reveals problems.

"When you look close," says Kjell, "it looks like little bombs have exploded because they have been touched and the scales are all over the place."

So the photographer located likely candidates in books and museum cases, then he planned trips to locate wild specimens in the field. His strategy: look, photograph, but don't touch.

But wild butterflies aren't quite as tolerant of nature photographers as your average wildflower or mushroom is. Agile, suspicious of two-legged giants, and preoccupied with their short, hectic lives, they're not inclined to sit for portraits. "When you want to photograph butterflies, you have to be very careful with lateral movements," says Kjell, adding that a slow, steady approach is best since butterflies don't seem to be alarmed by an approaching human form that slowly increases in size. The stalker's clothing should be drab; white clothes and shiny jewelry are out.

Time of day is critical, too. "As early as possible," is the best time to capture butterflies on film, says Kjell. Take a break between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. "That's their time of social behavior, and they're flitting all around."

Moths are easier to photograph, if you know the tricks. Wait until the sun goes down, then bring the moths to you with lights. Photographing moths resting on an illuminated sheet is much easier than chasing butterflies, says Kjell.

So, armed with a 35mm camera, a pair of electronic flashes and a homemade bellows for close-up work, Kjell stalked butterflies and moths from here to Southeast Asia. His favorite location? That's easy! The upper Amazon...or maybe New Guinea...or possibly Malaysia.

But there's no need to venture to exotic lands to find many of the letters. Our own buckeye butterfly sports lots of O's, and the forewing of the common tiger swallowtail (a big yellow butterfly with black stripes) contains "a big beautiful P," says Kjell.

The easiest letter (or number, for that matter) to find was O. "The most common design element on earth is the circle," Kjell points out. His biggest challenge: G, a rare letter scribed beautifully on the wing of the catagramma butterfly. In general, asymmetrical letters - G and R are good examples - were the toughest to find.

After 24 years of meshing his personal quest with professional duties for the Smithsonian, Kjell finally had his "butterfly alphabet." In fact, he's even managed to turn up dozens of duplicates. But why, Kjell? Why spend nearly a quarter of a century chasing a winged alphabet?

"Who would take 24 years to reach a mountaintop?" he laughs. After some reflection, the photographer admits that the challenge of doing something that no one has done is an obvious attraction. But there's more.

Modern man, he says, has lost his ability to appreciate the small things in nature. In particular, he worries about the children. "They have so little access to real things because they're taken away from the land. In the cities, with only concrete and steel, it's worst."

So, if a child can learn the alphabet while learning to see and appreciate nature, then Kjell Sandved will have climbed his mountain. "Small things," he says, "aren't something to crush underfoot."

For information about posters and other materials containing the butterfly alphabet, write Kjell Sandved, P.O. Box 39138, Washington, D.C. 20016, or phone 1-800-ABC-WING.