Forensics 101: 3D Facial Reconstruction

Last week, we looked at the remains of the sailors recovered from the wreck of the U.S.S. Monitor, including their facial reconstructions. As I haven’t covered this technique as part of the Forensics 101 series, I thought it would be a good time to review how forensic artists can build a three-dimensional (3D) version of the dead based only on skull structure. The following pictures are from Louisiana State University (LSU), and show the progression of the reconstruction of the face of the younger of the two men.

The skull is mounted on a stand through the foramen magnum—the hole at the base of the skull where the spinal cord enters the cranium—allowing the artist full access to all the external surfaces. Prosthetic eyes are added, usually brown as that is the dominant eye colour. Next, tissue depth markers (small cylindrical pieces of vinyl eraser strips) are glued to very specific landmarks on the skull. Taking race and gender markers into account, the artist uses charts of averaged population data for soft tissue thickness for each landmark location to determine the depth of each marker:

The skull is then fleshed out with clay to match those markers, following the 3D contours of the skull:

The nose is built based on the width of the nasal cavity and the lips are formed based on the measurement between the canine teeth. The height of the gum line determines the height of the lips. Once all the clay is added and smoothed, the finished product is a fully fleshed, completely individual face:

In the case of the U.S.S. Monitor sailors, LSU scientists went one step further and did a 3D digital analysis of the final clay reconstructions which allowed them to further experiment with different eye and hair colours or different facial hair styles. This is one image of what the younger of the two sailors might have looked like:

Facial reconstructions are often done by forensic artists as opposed to forensic anthropologists as it is truly an artistic endeavor. It never fails to amaze me how time, talent and skill bring forth a living face from naked bone.

Photo credit: Louisiana State University

Forensic Case Files: The Lost Sailors of the Civil War’s U.S.S. Monitor

The American Civil War was a time of transformation. Early 19th-century battle strategies were abandoned in favour of modern warfare, and one of the great naval changes was the move from wooden frigates to armour-plated ironclads.

For a brief time, the Confederate Navy’s ironclad Virginia was the scourge of the sea. To counter that threat, the Union Navy commissioned the Monitor, building it in a mere 101 days and launching it on January 30, 1862. It was a new ironclad design—a steamship built with such a low profile that the large majority of its bulk remained below the water line at all times, with only the gun turret, pilot house and several smokestacks above water. It also featured the very first 360o rotating gun turret.

On March 9, 1862, the day following a decisive Confederate victory during which the Virginia sank the Union frigates Cumberland and Congress, crippled the Minnesota, and killed 250 Union sailors, the Virginia met its match in the Monitor at the Battle of Hampton Roads. After four and a half hours of intense fighting with this unknown vessel, the Virginia fell back. She would never fight again.

Following the Battle of Hampton Roads, the Monitor joined in General George McClellan’s campaign on Richmond, Virginia.

The Monitor met its own end not on the battlefield, but in a storm. Because of its mostly-submerged design, it was easily swamped by rough seas and sank in 230 feet of water, 16 miles off Cape Hatteras, N.C. Of the 62-man crew, 16 men lost their lives that night—4 officers and 12 enlisted men.

The remains of the Monitor were located in 1973. The NOAA and the U.S. Navy determined that the rapidly disintegrating wreck couldn’t be raised, so an effort was made to recover as much of it as possible, including a steam engine, one of the massive Dalhgren guns, and the 150-ton gun turret. When the turret was raised, the nearly complete remains of two men were discovered inside.

The remains were sent to the Louisiana State University (LSU) for study. Usable DNA was recovered from the skeletons, but no match was made to any living relatives of the 16 lost men.

So what can forensic anthropologists determine from the skeletal remains of these two men?

One man was fairly young, presumably between 17 and 24 years of age, about 5’7”, white, with good teeth. His nose had been broken, and had healed and remodeled over the years. The second man was older, between 30 and 40 years of age, white, and stood about 5’6”. Damage to his teeth revealed that he was a pipe smoker, and wear on his bones indicated that heavy lifting was a constant part of his occupation. Artifacts recovered with the remains suggest that they were likely both enlisted men. Based on this information, in reviewing physical characteristics of the men on the casualty list, two possibilities are likely for the older man, four for the younger man.

To try to finally lay these lost soldiers to rest, LSU recently did facial reconstructions of the recovered skulls, using first three-dimensional clay techniques on skull replicas followed by digital enhancement. The final results are pictured below, with the older man on the left, the younger man on the right:

Scientists hope that family members of the lost sailors might recognize their relatives, even 150 years later. If the sailors cannot be identified, then they will be laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery with full military honours.

Photocredit: NOAA and Louisiana State University.

A Lesson from Joss Whedon – How to Write an Ensemble

Joss Whedon is a film maker and a show runner, but first and foremost he’s a writer. I’ve watched many of his projects—Angel, Firefly/Serenity and Dollhouse among them—and while he’s a brilliant actor’s director, it’s always his writing that really stands out for me. While recently watching The Avengers, it struck me how his exacting characterization, snappy dialogue and smart humour really shine in his screenplay, even though he had the difficult task for writing for an ensemble cast.

Writing for a large cast of characters is tricky, but it's something Whedon excels at. It’s challenging to keep everything balanced when you want the team as a whole to come out as the ‘hero’. Whether the media is a novel or a film or TV series screenplay, the storytelling techniques remain the same:

• Introduce the characters one at a time: Separate characters need to stand out individually, so introducing each character to the reader/viewer one at a time builds familiarity. This also allows for small pieces of relevant backstory to be woven into the story a bit at a time without a huge info dump.

• Give each character a distinct skill/personality quirk: Each character in an ensemble needs a reason to be there. While the characters in The Avengers were established before Whedon even began writing the screenplay, he’s always excelled at creating original casts of characters—interesting individuals who each brought something unique to the table, so the group as a whole was always bigger than the sum of its parts.

• Allow each character time to shine individually while still being a part of the team: Whedon took great care to give each character a crucial role in the story and then let the story unfold organically. There’s a great scene during The Avengers climactic battle that panned down the length of a midtown Manhattan street and shifted from character to character as each fulfilled their role. It was not only visually eye-popping, but it was a testimony to the strength of each character within the framework of the team. Each of them was crucial to the success of the whole.

• Even in a team, conflict still drives the story: External conflict might drive the story as a whole, but internal conflict between the team member helps develop individual character arcs and push the external conflict forward. In the case of The Avengers, it was the conflict between Tony Stark/Ironman and Steve Rogers/Captain America that drove a lot of the teamwork as a whole. Theirs was a disagreement that essentially came down to the basics of war and leadership, but when the chips were down that internal conflict was rapidly resolved, allowing the final climactic scene to play out as it did.

The Avengers was not only good summer-popcorn-movie fun, it was also a solid story that stayed nicely inside the restrictions of an existing fictional universe while still highlighting an ensemble cast of characters.

From the more experienced writers among us, do you have any other tips for writers wanting to take on writing a large ensemble cast of characters in either novels or screenplays?

Photo credit: Marvel

Knowing When It’s Time To Let Go

Yesterday, I returned my revision of Dead, Without a Stone to Tell It to my editor. I was able to complete the revision in about a week, but took a little extra time afterward to review the manuscript. Then Ann went over it as well.

But I realized I have a problem whenever I read my own work—it doesn’t seem to be possible for me to not re-edit as I go. Not major shifts of direction, the time for that is long over, but sentence level tweaks. Changing a phrase here, or swapping out a word there. I admit, I didn’t think that would happen. I expected to do two read-throughs—one following the hands-on revision where I would have to make some changes, and a second where I would just make sure that the formatting was perfect and that no words were missing/incorrect.

But I just couldn’t do it. And neither could Ann.

I remember when my brother Mychael was writing the music for Atom Egoyan’s film Exotica. He made the comment months later that if Atom hadn’t set a deadline, he’d still be working on it. It made me realize that it’s not just me. I think this is a pitfall of creatives—never being fully satisfied with your art and always wanting to make it better.

But there comes a moment when it’s time to consider the work complete and to move on. If we can’t do this, we’ll never produce a finished product. Some beginning writers fall into this trap—they’ll spend so much time trying to perfect the beginning of their story that they never manage to actually complete the novel. But professionals need to recognize that at some point the work is finished. And when they have a deadline, they really need to complete it on time.

I’m sure I’m not the only one out there who has this continuing goal of perfection. Do you guys ever have this problem, either with your writing or another choice of art?

Photo credit: Anja Bührer/latoday

Working With An Editor

This past week, I had my first experience working with an editor on Dead, Without a Stone to Tell It. I’d heard some words of wisdom before about editorial letters (much of it being ‘have a drink and a box of Kleenex handy’), but it still was an enlightening experience. You think you’re prepared for something, but, low and behold, it can still surprise you in unexpected ways.

So what did I learn from my first editorial experience?

• Your editor is there to help you: Your editor is an asset, not a liability. It’s in the best interest of the publishing house to release a book that is as strong as possible, and your editor is an important part of this process. Remember that he or she is not your enemy.

• Read their comments, then walk away for a while: No one likes to hear criticism about their baby. But the straight truth is that fresh eyes will see things in your manuscript that you don’t, or they won’t understand aspects of your writing simply because they don’t have all the background information you do. I’d heard the advice to walk away long before recieving my first notes, but I have to say that I agree 100%—read your editor’s notes, then give them space until the next day. You may be initially angry or upset about the suggested changes, but if you give yourself a little time and perspective, you’ll likely find that your editor has some absolutely valid points.

• They’re not here to rewrite our books, but to help make them better: Editors make suggestions and point out areas that don’t work, but it’s up to the writer to make the changes. They’re not here to write the book for us; in fact, in the few small sections where my editor made more detailed suggestions in the text, I found I needed to rework them simply because the voice wasn’t right. But the intent was correct and that aspect was retained through my edits.

• You only have so many Diva Points. Use them wisely: No one likes a high maintenance diva but there are times when something is so important that you feel the need to fight for it. That’s fine, but save this for issues that are really crucial. If you do this on a regular basis, your editor is going to be much less likely to consider your suggestions, so make your requests really count for something.

• Editorial letters/notes are fine, but nothing replaces a real time conversation: We’ve all seen it in emails time and again—misunderstandings because of lack of tone or brevity. When I received my notes, there were several things that I had questions about. Gordon was totally open to discussing them so we arranged for a short phone call. More than an hour and a half later (!), we were totally on the same page. There were some things that I’d thought were issues that weren’t, and there were sections where he took the time to explain his thoughts in detail so I totally understood his point of view. With that knowledge, I was able to complete his requested edits with relative ease. Also, there’s something to be said for making a connection with another person, and a real conversation can make an immense difference in your working relationship.

So, all in all, the editorial process turned out to be not so bad after all. More experienced authors, did I miss out on any tips that you’d be kind enough to share in the comments?

Photo credit: Nic’s Events