Palaeoart interview # 2: Matt Martyniuk / A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and other Winged Dinosaurs

Martyniuk, M.P. (2012). A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and Other Winged Dinosaurs. Vernon: PanAves.
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Welcome back to the Palaeoart Interview post series!
In the previous episodes, we have explored the general historic background of palaeoart (A “Palaeoartistic Enlightenment”: Dinosaurs as (Deconstructed) Scientific Iconography), and we have enjoyed what Steve White had to tell us about Dinosaur Art: The World's Greatest Paleoart.

Today, I am delighted to present the second installment in the palaeoart series: Matthew Martyniuk of DinoGoss fame will talk about his Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and other Winged Dinosaurs.

Many thanks to him for having accepted and happy reading!

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1. As Andrea Cau pointed out in his blog (Recensione di "A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and other Winged Dinosaurs" di M.P. Martyniuk), you «have fully captured the profound meaning of the “feathered Revolution”»: your book brilliantly illustrates avian dinosaurs as normal and real animals, very far from the “zombie–saurus” (a term coined by Marc Vincent), so typical of the innumerable clones of the original paulian design, or the poorly feathered monsters that are still en vogue. The animals you depicted are drawn in a way that nobody today – with your Field Guide at hand – could ever possibly detect the presence of a “dinosaur” (in the classic, Victorian sense) disguised under that fluffy integument (which is likely to be the case for the proverbial Neanderthal dressed up and waiting with us at the bus station). We visually need to go beyond old conventions, and your book is a very good achievement in that sense.

Your style seems also to have changed a lot during the years, as witnessed in a picture featured in Naish’s book Tetrapod Zoology (Naish, D. 2010. Tetrapod Zoology Book One. Bideford: CFZ Press. p. 77, fig. 38: Oviraptorine Heads Compared). In the Acknowledgements section of your Field Guide you cite John Conway, Scott Hartman, Jaime Headden and Ville Sinkkonen, whose works have inspired you the most.

Could you please tell us more about the process that guides your aesthetic and/or scientific approach during the reconstructions? What are your artistic roots and main influences?

Matt Martyniuk: I guess my artistic style has gradually gone from being heavily influenced by Gregory S. Paul to being heavily influenced by John Conway. My current art is mainly guided by a naturalistic philosophy. I grew up seeing dinosaurs and other prehistoric life depicted as these really fantastic looking, otherworldly creatures with no real analogue to the wildlife of today—that’s definitely a big part of the appeal of dinosaurs in general to many people, I think. But a few years ago I started to drift more into the influence of Conway and similar artists who have a more naturalistic take on restoring fossil animals, like Emily Willoughby and Dan Bensen, who once did a really great series of watercolour paintings depicting pterosaurs and prehistoric birds as if they were preserved museum specimens pulled out of some drawer by a researcher. I’ve steadily become more interested in showing prehistoric life as basically like modern life, things that could fit in among the kinds of animals we see today, rather than as an extinct class of dragons. In some ways this can be kind of subtle, like having dinosaur tails droop a little at the end, or using slow-walking rather than running poses. It’s not a return to the tail-dragging dinosaurs of the 1960s, but it’s also a rejection of the gravity-defying super-animals often depicted in various media. I guess the biggest shift came when I decided to start drawing a lot of prehistoric animals in a field-guide style—simple, neutral poses making identification and comparison of distinguishing features easier. Field guide style plates are, in a way, as “naturalistic” as you can get short of full-on wildlife art.

2. The taxonomic stance you adopted (i.e., the outdated nomenclature, not incorrect but quite obsolete) raised some eyebrows in the first reviews published on line (Cau and Mickey Mortimer, for instance). In the absence of the official PhyloCode, and the possible target audience for a popular book like yours notwithstanding, you have chosen to use such a taxonomy (e.g., Deinodontoidea for Tyrannosauroidea) and previously justified your decision in a post on DinoGoss, your blog.
Could you please summarize your reasons?

M.M.: I can tend to be a stickler for rules and priority, for better or worse, but the decision to use “old-school” taxon names is only partly out of a sense of fairness to the original authors who named them. It’s also something of an aesthetic choice. At its heart taxonomy has always been more an art than a science, and while I fully support the recent attempt to make naming conventions more rigorous through efforts like the PhyloCode, part of me misses the structure and predictability of old-style Linnaean classification. I use Caenagnathiformes instead of Oviraptorosauria, for example, in my book. Caenagnathiformes has never been phylogenetically defined, but it is an older name for approximately the same group, so in the absence of any rules to the contrary, why not use it? It may be unfamiliar to must people, but in context it is obvious what group of animals it is referring to. At the same time, names that have that air of early 20th century science matches my artistic style of re-imagining dinosaurs in a modern but somehow pre-dinosaur renaissance fashion.
In some cases, the names we use now are demonstrably wrong. Deinodontidae is a great example. This was the universally accepted name of the group containing Tyrannosaurus rex up until the 1970s. As Mickey Mortimer notes on his Web site, Dale Russell unilaterally declared Deinodontidae invalid in a 1970 paper because he considered the genus Deinodon a “nomen vanum”. None of this is supported by the rules of nomenclature set forth by the ICZN. Even if one considers Deinodon a nomen dubium since it’s based on fragmentary fossil material, there is no doubt that it is a close relative of T. rex, and therefore there was no reason not to keep the family name in place, especially when other names based on very fragmentary fossils are still in universal use today (Hadrosauridae, Ceratopsidae, Troodontidae, etc.). Despite all this, everyone else seems to have followed Russell’s recommendation without question. In a way I find it sad that Deinodontidae was abandoned for such an arbitrary reason, and attempting to bring it back is my way of trying to right a minor wrong perpetuated by the Dinosaur Renaissance era. Of course, I fully support the efforts to implement the PhyloCode, and hopefully it will go into effect soon. As much as I will miss the aesthetic value of the “old names”, I hope to be able to use official names in any future edition of the book, if official, PhyloCode sanctioned names exist by that time.

3. The first reviews being published (the already mentioned Cau’s and Mortimer’s critiques, as well as Alan H. Brush brief description), is there something that you think you might have add, expanded or explained in a rather different way? 

M.M.: Well, I think in hindsight it was a mistake not to include an index! My goal for the book was to make an art book with unusually detailed entries useful for comparing and contrasting Mesozoic birds, which are unfortunately often depicted rather generically. For that reason I organized the book by both family and gross similarity and basically thought navigation would be done by group rather than species. Of course as a major synthesis of data on these things, I realize it would be useful to be able to find one by name rather than flipping to its family and browsing, so this is something I will try to include in any potential second edition.

4. Is there hope for an expanded edition of your Field Guide, possibly covering different kinds of ornithodirans with feathery of fluffy integuments (if you are interested in such an endeavour, of course)?

M.M.: That is something that I would consider, but it would depend on the circumstances. Dr. Brush noted in his review that the inclusion of only dinosaurs with pennaceous feathers was completely arbitrary (i.e. why not include all feathered dinosaurs?), but it was a necessary line to draw in order to limit the scope of the project. Including all feathered dinosaurs would have at least doubled the number of original restorations, and probably added years to the book’s production time! If anything, I’d definitely consider doing additional field guides to non-aviremigian dinosaurs. Interestingly, even with my chosen scope, I may have to significantly expand the book in any future editions thanks to the discovery that even ornithomimids may have had pennaceous feathers.

5. What is your own definition of palaeoart – or what should palaeoart be?

M.M.: This is a tricky question, and lots of very strong opinions exist in the community—there was a whole series of posts on this published at a blog I (infrequently) contribute to, Art Evolved. I personally think a distinction should be drawn between pop art and scientific restoration. Many people are incredibly talented at making art involving dinosaurs that are not necessarily scientifically rigorous, but are stylized in some way, whether they reference historic depictions of scaly dinosaurs, or movie dinosaurs, or fantastical/alien looking dinosaurs. On the other hand, there are artists who insist that only rigorous, evidence-based restorations are acceptable… but then you have very “liberal” movements like the current ne being spawned by the publication of Conway et al.’s All Yesterdays, where the illustrations are consistent with the scientific evidence but contain a major dose of pure speculation.
The problem I see with paleoart is that we’re short on terms for sub-genres. If I look at a picture of a Jurassic Park style Dilophosaurus with a big expandable frill, my first reaction is that it’s not worthwhile as paleoart because I just spent two decades trying to convince amateur artists not to do that, that there’s no evidence Dilophosaurus really had a frill, etc. But then I read a blog post on Cau’s Theropoda blog talking about the avant-garde depiction of an Apatosaurus with big double dewlaps hanging off its neck and think, “Wow, isn’t that interesting, and not that implausible!”. I guess the real problem with the Dilophosaurus is that I’m reacting to the unoriginality of the myriad copies it spawned, not the implausibility of the depiction itself. I guess my central point in all this is that paleoart is a spectrum from pop art to scientific reconstruction to “paleo wildlife art.” I think much of my own art would fit into the latter—it’s very hard to depict a fossil species in a naturalistic way without obscuring scientific rigor with lots of plausible speculation. I think the paleoart community should make room for all those styles.

Per un “illuminismo paleoartistico”. I dinosauri e la decostruzione dell’iconografia scientifica

Plateosaurus con rivestimento tegumentario filamentoso e con tubercoli dermici. Una ricostruzione speculativa (ma non implausibile) fino a pochi anni fa impensabile, ad opera di Fabio Manucci.

«A coloro i quali vogliano insistere nel considerare l’iconografia come un accessorio marginale del testo, non posso che ricordare un fatto fondamentale della nostra storia evolutiva: i primati sono animali la cui cognizione si basa fondamentalmente sulla vista, ed è così da quando i frequentatori degli alberi dell’inizio del Terziario furono obbligati a muoversi con agilità tra i rami, pena la loro morte e il venir meno al minuzioso esame della selezione naturale. Gli esseri umani, depositari di tale eredità, apprendono tramite la visione e la rappresentazione» 

Stephen J. Gould [1] 

… And then there were three

Negli ultimi tempi sono stati pubblicati tre libri che rivestono una notevole importanza nell’ambito della paleoarte*.

Li elenchiamo di seguito:

• Conway, J., Kosemen, C.M. & Naish, D. (2012). All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals. With Skeletal Diagrams by Scott Hartman. http://irregularbooks.co/: Irregular Books.
• Martyniuk, M.P. (2012). A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and Other Winged Dinosaurs. Vernon: PanAves.
• White, S. (2012). Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. London: Titan Books.

Tali volumi rappresentano l’avanguardia di una riflessione critica riguardante l’approccio di base e i fondamenti della ricostruzione e dell’illustrazione preistorica. Benché ciascuno di essi presenti un punto di vista particolare sull’argomento, tutti condividono una caratteristica importante: si possono considerare come i primi risultati di un nuovo modo di concepire la paleoarte a livello internazionale. Con la parziale eccezione del libro curato da White, comprendente le interviste rilasciate da alcuni tra i migliori paleoartisti di oggi, corredate da un magnifico campione rappresentativo dei loro lavori (si va dalle immagini storiche che hanno fatto scuola alle nuove correnti che spaziano dall’iperrealismo all’impressionismo), la Field Guide di Martyniuk e l'opera collettiva intitolata All Yesterdays potrebbero persino essere interpretate come forme di una ragionata protesta indirizzata espressamente contro le vecchie convenzioni paleoartistiche.

Queste ultime sono state ben evidenziate – e stigmatizzate – da Stephen J. Gould nel modo seguente: «I costrutti sociali che intervengono nell’iconografia fossile vengono chiaramente alla luce nelle convenzioni adottate per realizzarla. Tali convenzioni creano in effetti un’enorme discrepanza tra le scene illustrate e qualsiasi possibile realtà naturale» [2]. Nel dibattito attuale, i dinosauri si possono annoverare tra i principali protagonisti della decostruzione di tali convenzioni artistiche.

La breve introduzione che segue può essere utile, senza alcuna pretesa di esaustività, per comprendere l’impatto e la risonanza che questi libri hanno avuto – e stanno avendo – nell’ambito disciplinare, al fine di collocarli all’interno di un più vasto background storiografico.

L’eretico Deinonychus 

Secondo i canoni della vetusta ortodossia iconografica ottocentesca, i dinosauri erano raffigurati come degli «stupidi colossi in grado di dominare sulla Terra solamente in virtù della loro mole, per essere poi soppiantati dai nuovi mammiferi a sangue caldo, più intelligenti e veloci» [3]. Durante l’epoca vittoriana, il termine “dinosauro”, coniato da poco e talvolta associato al dispregiativo “tiranno”, fu utilizzato (tra i casi possibili) «per collocare nel passato pre-umano (e pertanto convalidare) l’ottimismo vittoriano riguardante l’inevitabile scomparsa di forme di governo dispotiche, immorali e inefficienti. Tale ottimismo era volto a riaffermare la gerarchia morale che sorreggeva le esposizioni pubbliche come quella del Crystal Palace» [4]. Lo stesso nome dei “terribili rettili” divenne ben presto il paradigma per etichettare una dominazione condotta sotto le vesti di un’ingombrante inerzia bizantina, e «un linguaggio fatto di rimandi all’impero e al governo autocratico» venne spesso utilizzato per descrivere «le relazioni [della nuova classe di vertebrati] con il resto del mondo naturale» [5].

Ad eccezione di alcune lievi modifiche e con poche ma notevoli eccezioni (che non trattiamo in questo post), tale concezione durò grosso modo fino alla fine degli anni ’60 del secolo scorso, quando nuove scoperte e un atteggiamento eterodosso adottato in particolare da John Ostrom, professore a Yale, e reso celebre dal suo ex studente Robert T. Bakker (paleontologo nonché valido artista), erosero lentamente il consenso costruito attorno all’equazione “dinosauri = obsolescenza”. Bakker sfidò questa convenzione istituzionale lungo l’intero corso della sua carriera accademica, sfruttando le doti artistiche per veicolare le sue idee iconoclastiche. La sua emblematica ricostruzione di Deinonychus anthirropus (un nuovo teropode la cui descrizione, pubblicata nel 1969, fu determinante per cambiare la mentalità generale sull’ecologia e la fisiologia dei dinosauri) accese il dibattito e pose implicitamente un nuovo standard artistico: agili, slanciati ed eleganti dinosauri, a sangue caldo e sempre in movimento, vennero da subito opposti ai classici, e implacabilmente ottusi, giganti a sangue freddo, obbligati a vivere nelle paludi e destinati all’estinzione. Bakker divenne in breve tempo una fonte inesauribile di molteplici interpretazioni scientifiche e di innovative (e spesso provocatorie) ricostruzioni artistiche: a partire dal 1968 ceratopsidi al galoppo e atletici sauropodi divennero moneta corrente in quella che sarebbe diventata nota come la Dinosaur Renaissance (che prende il nome da un contributo di Bakker per «Scientific American», pubblicato nel 1975), ma nonostante tale variopinta concorrenza Deinonychus ha sempre mantenuto inalterati il suo prestigio di apripista iconografico e il suo status symbol rivoluzionario.

In un resoconto divulgativo datato 1978 e pubblicato sul «National Geographic», Ostrom asserì che «l’agilità e la velocità non rappresentano le tipiche caratteristiche che siamo soliti associare ai rettili a sangue freddo. L’immagine di [D. anthirropus] è molto più simile a quella degli uccelli non volatori come lo struzzo, o a quella di agili predatori come il serpentario africano o il Geococcyx californianus del Nord America occidentale» [6]. In quello stesso testo, Ostrom affermò che la fisiologia deducibile dai resti fossili di Deinonychus, e sostenibile anche sulla base di altre prove concomitanti, suggeriva che «almeno alcuni dinosauri carnivori potevano essere a sangue caldo e possedere un metabolismo elevato» [7], allo stesso modo degli attuali mammiferi e uccelli (questi ultimi tra i discendenti diretti dei dinosauri teropodi). Come Adrian J. Desmond ha efficacemente sintetizzato, gli anni ’70 furono un periodo di vivaci riflessioni sulla fisiologia dei dinosauri le quali, in ultima istanza, condussero all’abbandono dell’immagine del rettile “a sangue freddo” come modello adeguato per spiegare la fisiologia dei dinosauri: «il cambiamento nei modelli di riferimento focalizzò l’attenzione su aspetti precedentemente inesplorati dei dinosauri, aspetti che mai si sarebbero potuti cogliere nel paradigma precedente» [8].

Quando la dinomania dominava il mondo

Il 1993 fu l’anno di Jurassic Park, il celebre film diretto da Steven Spielberg e basato sul best-seller omonimo scritto da Michael Crichton. Non appena il film fu distribuito nei cinema, S.J. Gould non tardò a paragonare idealmente le ricostruzioni paleoartistiche tipiche della sua infanzia con i nuovi modelli cinematografici e affermò che «i lenti, goffi, stupidi e robotici colossi, senza traccia di comportamento elaborati e tipici della mia infanzia sono stati sostituiti da creature agili, potenzialmente a sangue caldo, sufficientemente intelligenti e capaci di comportamenti complessi», [9] in grado di fornire cure parentali alla prole e di cooperare in branchi, estinti non a causa della loro nefanda stupidità, ma per effetto delle conseguenze nefaste seguite all’imprevedibile impatto di un asteroide. Della stupefacente varietà di dinosauri, solo la linea evolutiva degli uccelli riuscì a sopravvivere al cataclisma, come suggeriva idealmente la scena finale del film di Spielberg. Però, a causa delle esigenze di copione tipiche dei blockbuster di Hollywood (dove il mostro è il cattivo), Jurassic Park spianò anche la strada alla diffusione mediatica dei dinosauri teropodi come macchine assassine energiche, crudeli e persino malvagie. Mentre tale moda eterogenea prendeva piede nell’industria editoriale e nel commercio in generale, «le convenzioni [paleoartistiche] di un sovraffollamento innaturale e di una predazione onnipresente» [10], le medesime convenzioni che avevano già garantito un tempo il successo iconografico dei dinosauri vittoriani serrati in un sanguinoso ed eterno duello, venivano purtroppo riportate in vita.

Nondimeno, la “dinomania” che imperversava durante gli anni ’90 sotto il comune stendardo di Jurassic Park, fu anche il prodotto collaterale delle ricerche scientifiche condotte da molti illustri paleontologi. Particolarmente influenti, fra i tanti nomi possibili, furono Bakker e John Horner, citati anche nella sezione dei Ringraziamenti dell’opera di Crichton (Horner divenne successivamente il consulente scientifico del film di Spielberg, mentre l’esperto paleoartista Gregory S. Paul - sul quale avremo modo di tornare a breve - fornì gli studi artistici preliminari).

Più o meno indipendentemente dagli scopi che i padri fondatori della rinnovata paleoarte si erano prefissati, il prezzo da pagare per la diffusione dei nuovi canoni sottoposti alla «Natura, rossa di zanne e d’artigli» immortalata nei versi di Tennyson, fu sia il venir meno nelle raffigurazioni artistiche di tutti i comportamenti normali sia un ritardo nell’accettazione iconografica del tegumento filamentoso o piumato. La presenza di piume (ipotizzata già negli anni ’70 da Bakker e divulgata da questi e G.S. Paul), il gioco nei teropodi (immaginato sulla scorta del comportamento dei corvidi da Bakker, e realizzato visivamente da Luis Rey), stegosauri e prosauropodi immortalati durante i loro bisogni corporali, infestati da zecche o impegnati nella produzione di quelli che milioni di anni dopo sarebbero diventati noti come coproliti (illustrati da William Stout nei primi anni ’80), rappresentarono un rarissimo, ma nondimeno benvenuto, strappo alla regola. Purtroppo, tali idee restarono sentieri non battuti dalla maggior parte degli artisti.

Liaoning e una nuova moda da quattro soldi

Dopo un periodo di confusi e bizzarri ibridi artistici sostenuti dal mercato editoriale divulgativo (ad esempio, dinosauri teropodi più o meno agili ma quasi mai piumati, la cui morfologia continuava paradossalmente a ricordare i massicci colossi rettiliani tipici della paleoarte vittoriana), le nuove scoperte avvenute dopo la metà degli anni ’90 in Cina (presso Liaoning) condussero all’accettazione definitiva del nuovo modello: «i dinosauri iperattivi di Bob Bakker e Gregory S. Paul» [11] alla fine ebbero la meglio sui desueti concorrenti artistici.

All’alba del nuovo millennio, e più rapidamente che mai (grazie ad una nuova generazione di utenti ormai avvezzi alle possibilità offerte da Internet), la nuova koiné artistica si diffuse pressoché ovunque. La nuova corrente mutò presto in quella che Darren Naish ha recentemente etichettato come «l’epoca di Paul» [12], caratterizzata dall’adozione dell’originale «stile agile» di Gregory S. Paul (ovvero, un’interpretazione artistica dei dinosauri che privilegia un aspetto smilzo e muscoloso). Purtroppo, tale moda ha condotto al proliferare di una serie inesauribile di cloni che, accentuando i punti salienti (o i limiti) della voga artistica, non hanno fatto altro che ripetere pedissequamente illustrazioni di «dinosauri-zombie – animali scheletrici e macilenti le cui ossa sono visibili sotto un sottilissimo drappeggio di pelle. Nella paleoarte esiste inoltre un certo tradizionalismo, per cui gli animali raffigurati tendono a conservare in ogni illustrazione tipologie stereotipate di aspetto e comportamento» [13]. La Dinosaur Renaissance, promossa a fatica sin dalla fine degli anni ’60, si stava allora modificando in un altro cliché (che, in massima parte, tendeva a fraintendere l’intento originario); una nuova moda, semplificata e a poco prezzo perché ripetitiva, cominciava allora ad imporsi.

Nel caso dei dinosauri e di altri animali estinti, «il substrato del fascino da essi esercitato è sempre stato presente, persino nei giorni bui e tristi degli ottusi e sgraziati dinosauri (che, comunque, erano pur sempre grandi, feroci ed estinti)» [14]. Ora, le industrie commerciali (che, in generale, non hanno un vivo interesse per l’accuratezza scientifica di ciò che producono), hanno sfruttato questo fascino alimentando senza sosta la persistenza di un’iconografia scientificamente imprecisa. Ad eccezione di poche e interessanti produzioni ad alto budget, scientificamente accurate e intellettualmente stimolanti, l’avvento e la disponibilità praticamente immediata di una computer grafica spesso approssimativa e caratterizzata da scarsa inventiva hanno segnato la diffusione di spettacoli televisivi e di libri divulgativi per l’infanzia e l'adolescenza “abbelliti” da dinosauri più o meno attivi ma sempre dall’aspetto rettiliano (e pertanto non piumati, poiché lenta è l’accettazione del dato di fatto per cui gli uccelli sono dinosauri… ), impegnati in sempiterni e feroci combattimenti o nell’emissione di primordiali ruggiti, e sempre presentati in pose perlopiù standardizzate [15].

… e adesso?

Questo resoconto, limitato ad alcuni episodi, è ovviamente impreciso e generico. Non è difficile, ad esempio, rintracciare alcuni significativi precursori che si sono impegnati per realizzare opere più realistiche, tenendo conto di una verosimile ecologia preistorica (due nomi su tutti: Bill Berry e Jay Matterness). Nel contempo, lavori giudicati oggi come scientificamente obsoleti mantengono intatta tutta la loro inarrivabile qualità artistica e conservano il loro assoluto valore storico (ad esempio, quelli risalenti alla prima metà del secolo appena trascorso e firmati da maestri quali Zdenek Burian e Charles Knight).

Le poche righe che abbiamo presentato si sono difatti limitate all'esplorazione superficiale di un immenso tema culturale. Il groviglio di arte e scienza nella storia della paleontologia costituisce difatti un affascinante e complicato tema di indagine. Come ha ricordato di recente Jane Davidson, «la scienza della paleontologia è sempre stata inestricabilmente legata all’arte» [16]. Persino nei giorni migliori della bakkeriana Dinosaur Renaissance venivano proposte e discusse con fervore teorie discordanti sulla fisiologia dei dinosauri (alcune delle quali si sono in seguito dimostrate errate), mentre illustrazioni contrastanti venivano commissionate e create per fornire un accattivante sostegno visivo a tali teorie.

Il punto che però ci preme portare all’attenzione è che oggi, all’interno delle comunità di studiosi e paleoartisti professionisti, sta facendo presa un sentimento di profonda insoddisfazione riguardo ai più diffusi cliché artistici. Al momento è sempre più sentita la necessità di un approccio artistico più sensibile e scientificamente preciso, imperniato sui risultati della più recente ricerca fisiologica, ecologica e paleontologica. Perorare questa causa non è uno sforzo inutile. Come ha notato S.J. Gould l’iconografia non è «un accessorio marginale del testo» [17] ma, data la nostra eredità evoluzionistica condivisa ed ereditata del clade dei primati a cui apparteniamo, l’iconografia (se è il risultato di immaginazione e di speculazione controllate) rappresenta la via maestra all’apprendimento, alla comunicazione e alla diffusione della ricerca scientifica.

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Per comprendere l’attuale “illuminismo paleoartistico” (una periodizzazione che deve tenere conto della precedente della rivoluzione bakkeriana e della Dinosaur Renaissance), è forse più utile e interessante osservare la ricreazione degli antichi paesaggi, incastonati nei tempi profondi del nostro pianeta Terra, dal punto di vista degli stessi autori impegnati in questo campo. White, Naish & Martyniuk hanno accettato con cortesia di rispondere a cinque domande ciascuno riguardanti il panorama paleoartistico. La prima intervista è già stata pubblicata; le altre seguiranno.

Restate sintonizzati!

*: Naish ha correttamente notato come alcuni studiosi giudichino che il termine “paleoarte” «si debba utilizzare per designare l’arte prodotta nei tempi preistorici» [18]. Ad ogni modo, tenendo anche conto del fatto che un nuovo termine da riservare all’attuale produzione artistica (come ad es. “paleontografia”) non si è ancora imposto nell’ambito, si è deciso di seguire l’indicazione di Naish e di utilizzare il diffuso “paleoarte”.

NOTA: la versione inglese di questo post è disponibile cliccando qui.

[1] Gould, S.J. (2001). Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, in id. (ed.), The Book of Life: An Illustrated History of the Evolution of Life on Earth, New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 6-21; 11 (1993 1a ed.).

[2] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.

[3] Parsons, K.M. (2001). Drawing Out Leviathan: Dinosaurs and the Science Wars, Bloomington-Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 22.

[4] O’Connor, R. (2012). Victorian Saurians: The Linguistic Prehistory of the Modern Dinosaur. «Journal of Victorian Culture», 17, 4: 492-504; 501.

[5] Semonin, P. (1997). Empire and Extinction: The Dinosaur as a Metaphor for Dominance in Prehistoric Nature. «Leonardo», 30, 3: 171-182; 181.

[6] Ostrom, J. (1978). Startling New Look at Dinosaurs. «National Geographic», 154, 2, August: 152-185; 161.

[7] Ostrom, Startling New Look, 164.

[8] Desmond, A.J. (1977). The Hot-Blooded Dinosaurs: A Revolution in Paleontology. Futura Publications: London; 71 (1975 1a ed.).

[9] Gould, S.J. (1993). Dinomania. Jurassic Park, directed by Steven Spielberg, screenplay by Michael Crichton, by David Koepp . Universal city studios; The Making of Jurassic Park by Don Shay, by Jody Duncan, Ballantine, 195 pp., $18.00 (paper); Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton, Ballantine, 399 pp., $6.99 (paper). «New York Review of Books», August 12, 1993: 

<http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/1993/aug/12/dinomania/?pagination=false>.

[10] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.

[11] Martyniuk, M.P. (2012). All Yesterdays: Paleoart Enters A New Era. «Dinogoss», December 10, 2012: <http://dinogoss.blogspot.it/2012/12/all-yesterdays-paleoart-enters-new-era.html>.

[12] Vincent, M. (2012). All Yesterdays: the live conference room spectacular. «Love in the Time of Chasmosaurs», December 8, 2012: <http://chasmosaurs.blogspot.it/2012/12/all-yesterdays-live-conference-room.html>.

[13] Vincent, All Yesterdays.

[14] Gould, Dinomania.

[15] Cf. White, S. (2012). Dinosaur Renaissance: A Brief Prehistory of Paleoart, in id. (ed.). Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. London: Titan Books, 8-11; 10.

[16] Davidson, J. (2008). A History of Paleontology Illustration. Bloomington-Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Quoted in Switek, B. (2009). Book Review: A History of Paleontology Illustration, in «Palaeontologia Electronica», 12 (1), pp. R3: <http://palaeo-electronica.org/2009_1/books/history.pdf>. Come nota Switek, «si attende ancora un'analisi approfondita dei cambiamenti che hanno avuto luogo nella paleoarte (e nella paleontologia in generale) durante la Dinosaur Renaissance».

[17] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.

[18] Naish, D. (2012). Introduction, in Conway, J., Kosemen, C.M. & Naish, D. (2012). All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals. With Skeletal Diagrams by Scott Hartman. http://irregularbooks.co/: Irregular Books 2012, 8-16; 14 (nota n. 1).

Artt. indicizzati in Research Blogging:
O'Connor, R. (2012). Victorian Saurians: The Linguistic Prehistory of the Modern Dinosaur Journal of Victorian Culture, 17 (4), 492-504 DOI: 10.1080/13555502.2012.738896
Semonin, P. (1997). Empire and Extinction: The Dinosaur as a Metaphor for Dominance in Prehistoric Nature Leonardo, 30 (3) DOI: 10.2307/1576441

Palaeoart interview # 1: Steve White / Dinosaur Art: The World's Greatest Paleoart

White, S. (2012). (ed.). Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. London: Titan Books.
All copyrights are property of their respective owners. Disclaimer: Because the image is a book cover, a form of product packaging, the entire image is needed to identify the product, properly convey the meaning and branding intended, and avoid tarnishing or misrepresenting the image. As a book cover, the image is not replaceable by free content; any other image that shows the packaging of the book would also be copyrighted, and any version that is not true to the original would be inadequate for identification or commentary.

As previously mentioned in A “Palaeoartistic Enlightenment”: Dinosaurs as (Deconstructed) Scientific Iconography (you might want to have a look into the historiographic background before proceeding), palaeoart and dinosaur palaeontology are in the middle of a critical rethinking about dinosaur iconographic conventions.

On that occasion, I concluded that

« [it] is perhaps better to observe the recreation of ancient landscapes, frozen in the deep times of the Earth, from the point of view of the authors themselves».

Today I am delighted to present the first installment in a limited series of interviews concerning palaeoart, dinosaurs, and other assorted topics.

Let's start with Steve White (whom I thank for having accepted to be interviewed), and his Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. The book, edited by White, features the amazing artwork of (in alphabetic order) Mauricio Antón, John Conway, Julius Csotonyi, Douglas Henderson, Todd Marshall, Raúl Martín, Robert Nicholls, Gregory S. Paul, Luis Rey and John Sibbick (not to mention Darren Naish as the scientific consultant, the Foreword by Philip J. Currie and an Introduction by Scott D. Sampson).

Happy reading!

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1. Four years ago, Brian Switek pointed out that

«An in-depth analysis of how palaeo-art (and paleontology in general) changed in the wake of the “Dinosaur Renaissance” is left wanting».

Your book was welcomed in such a particular context and its organization acts quite like an instant visual encyclopaedia: it collects biographic stories, technical details and memories from some of the most renowned protagonists of the “Dinosaur Renaissance” and its most recent phases. So, in a sense, Dinosaur Art is the opening salvo (so to speak) of the debate concerning the much needed renewal in the understanding of palaeoart.
How do you judge the current debates, from the claim of Gregory S. Paul about “copyrighting” some skeletal or in vivo postures (cf. David Orr, The Great Debate in Paleoart; this decision caused many artists to stand back and/or change their portfolio, as Scott Hartman did), to the spreading of an iconoclastic and more scientific approach to the subjects depicted (cf. Matt Wedel, Pimp my 'pod 2: haids)?

Steve White: It's interesting where you draw the line between reference, homage, parody and plagiarism. I am on deviantART and recently someone posted a piece of artwork on there that was a complete and total steal of a piece by Julius Csotonyi – right down to the colour scheme. The artist was not a professional, just someone who seemed to like drawing dinosaurs for fun, but even so it set my teeth on edge that the artist concerned didn't even mention Julius and if I had been a more vindictive sort I could have posted something to that effect.

While this isn't exactly Greg Paul territory, it is a question of "where do you draw the line"? Could Claude Monet have said to Renoir or Pissarro, "You're stealing my look"? That's a gross over-simplification but Greg has cast a very long and very broad shadow over the field of paleoart. He was one of the first artists I went to when I was formulating the line-up for Dinosaur Art and to be honest I was very surprised when he agreed, but over the moon because he had had a very strong influence on my own development as an artist. I'd also have to say, of all the artists I have worked with, he would be the one that I would most like to do an Art of... book. Whether you like his style or not (and I know many people feel he led the 'shrink-wrap' movement) there is no denying his influence and I would love to look at this in depth. I was actually really surprised when in one review it was suggested I had been wrong in including him – to me, that was insane! That said, I'm with many of the people who thought he might have over-reacted a little. I agree the 'left foot-lifted' pose he came to encapsulate is very much his look, however I'm not sure I'd agree is copyrightable. It is a tough one in some respects. I can imagine it must be very hard to see your work so flagrantly lifted but then again, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I know he was coming at it from a much more business-orientated perspective and I can imagine his frustration at his other artists who are lifting your style then undercutting you (as he seems to have seen it anyway).
Even so, everyone starts out wearing their influences on their sleeves. I remember when the National Geographic dinosaur book illustrated by Raúl Martín came out; it was, I think, the first time I'd seen his work and I remember thinking, "This guy is good but he's just dropping Greg Paul dinosaurs in a Doug Henderson setting." I remember seeing similar comments on forums. But soon after he really came into his own and now he is perhaps the finest exponent of computer-generated paleoart around. His stuff is just amazing and again he's another I dearly love to do a solo book with. I also think he very much addresses the second part of your question. Paleoart shouldn't be like medical illustration, but I guess in some ways, the paleoartist is caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Someone illustrating dinosaurs (or any prehistoric animal or plant) usually has very little to go on. To be a true paleoartist, you have to be scientifically vigorous, but equally you have to be a natural history artist in the truest sense – the subject has to look like a living organism and that sense of animation can be lost if that vigour ends up taking all the life out of your illustration. That said, on a personal aside, I find a lot of natural history art to be look like nothing more than glamour shots in Vogue. Lots of static shots of tigers looking magnificent or elephants looking windswept at sunset on the Serengeti. I loved All Yesterdays; a genius idea (and a wonderful book for any readers who may have missed it) but they strongly enforce the point that animals spend a great deal of their time doing nothing – sleeping, resting, whatever. I just think it's ironic that with Paleoart is like you're almost over-compensating - you want the animals to look lively and dynamic to reaffirm that, yes, these were living creatures. 

I also think it's not paleoartists that need to be iconoclastic but those who hire them, bearing in mind that much of the work is commissioned. Another example that appears in All Yesterdays is that of Tenontosaurus and Deinonychus. It's a classic case of how a little knowledge can be a bad thing, especially amongst the paleontologically-illiterate, and then it becomes a self-perpetuating fallacy; that, based on very circumstantial evidence, Deinonychus packed-hunted Tenontosaurus. Editors of popular books seem to think this is some absolute truth and unless they are particularly interested in dinosaurs, most of these editors are going to take the path of least resistance. As such, that image is nothing a complete cliche; dinosaur books are still churning it out. I'm not what I regard as a true paleoartist but I have drawn that image three times for three different publications over the years. If you want another example of why it's the publishers and commissioning editors that are causing the problem, I was once illustrating Pentaceratops. A paper had just been released showing that it had a dip along the top edge of its frill with two downward-projecting epoccipitals. I drew it that way then was told to change it; the publication in question had previously published an illustration of Pentaceratops with the old-style frill and didn't want to handle would have no-doubt been a torrent of outraged letters from readers asking why the two looked different (being sarcastic...). So I changed it. I remember Luis Rey being annoyed with me for amending it, but as I saw it it was their money. But it just proves that in popular books any idiot can draw dinosaurs. There's no one there to say it's wrong and the readership are generally none the wiser. Outside of academia, it's a largely self-enforced discipline.

2. In your concise but accurate Introduction you wrote:

«Just as music was changing in the mid- and late seventies, so was paleoart, and if Bob Bakker was Sex Pistols, Greg Paul was The Clash, one influencing the other to greatness» (Dinosaur Art, p. 9).

I liked that musical definition because it can be easily understood even by someone who is unaware of what the “Dinosaur Renaissance” meant for palaeontology in general, and it also puts in context the “Dinosaur Renaissance”, which was a part of a broader social and cultural renewal. At least, in just one of the interviewees of your book, the link between palaeoart and music is readily apparent (i.e., Todd Marshall), but what if you were to choose and apply a musical parallel to all the other palaeoartists presented in your book?

S.W.:  Hehehe. Good question... That seemed an alliteration that felt very natural. I guess the only other artist in the book who is a recognisable part of the Dinosaur Renaissance is Doug Henderson. I remember first seeing his art in Riddle of the Dinosaurs, one of the better (in my opinion) books to come out of that time. I remember being blown away by the sense of lighting. If I was using the music of the time as a yardstick, I'd have to say Doug was someone like The Stranglers - more cerebral than the average punk band, I thought, more artistic. Not sure if he'd appreciate the comparison but I loved The Stranglers so I hope he'd take it as a compliment. I guess I'd see John Sibbick as the Rolling Stones - hardy perennials still going strong and still doing things in the most traditional of styles. Julius would be someone like Radiohead to me, someone whose adapted to new technology and is still creatively state-of-the-art. I wouldn't see Luis musically really; to me he's the Salvador Dalí of paleoart – really pushing the edge of the envelope with the medium. You can't deny that his dinosaurs have a certain surrealism to them! The others... Well, that's tough. I don't want to shoehorn anyone into a particular band or style – I could end up really insulting somebody. I mean, a lot of people hate Coldplay yet there's a lot of people still buy their albums, but really, honestly, who wants to be Coldplay?

3. We know from your recent interview featured on Dave Hone’s Archosaur Musings (which contains a gorgeous selection of your palaeoartistic portfolio) that in 1991 you worked on a Marvel Comics series about dinosaurs and Luis Rey (whose works are admirably printed in your book) was appointed as a contributor. Did you have previous contacts with the other artists involved in the Dinosaur Art project?

Or, generally speaking, how your artistic and professional background helped you during the different editorial stages of your book?

S.W.: The only other member of the Dinosaur Art cadre I knew before starting the book was Darren Naish. I've known both him and Luis for around 20 years so I've seen Darren grow from bright-eyed dinophile into full-blown Doctor. Luis, meanwhile, remains one of Paleoart's great enigmas - very verbos, very vociferous in his views, but you need someone like that to rattle the pillars of paleo-heaven sometimes. Stir things up. I had met John Sibbick once or twice and knew Bob Nicholls via Facebook. Since working on the book, I'm now on pretty good terms with Bob, Mauricio Antón, John Conway and Julius Csotonyi, again mainly via the wonders of Facebook but it's been great to get to know guys whose work I have long admired. 

In terms of my own experience, I don't want to seem unduly modest but I wouldn't deem to qualify myself as a true paleoartist. I have been lucky to draw a lot of dinosaurs and other prehistoric life on a paying basis and I always think that helps when you're dealing with creators; that they know you know what you're talking about. Some people have even asked me why I didn't have more of my own art in there but to me that would have seemed a little self-serving. I know a reasonable amount about dinosaurs (and sharks) and I'm a decent artist, but the book wasn't about me. It just meant that my own background enabled me to draw up what I hoped were interesting questions for the artists to answer rather that "where do you get your inspiration from?" and "what your favourite dinosaur?" (although I think I skated quite close to the latter...). I wanted to ask about methodology and style, and could because I have a pretty good understanding of what it means to illustrate the subject matter being discussed. I guess I was essentially asking what I wanted to know. I also had a big say in the choice of artwork and, again, because I knew the artists by their work, it helped choose images that hadn't been seen dozens of times before – I wanted to give the dinophile readers something they may not have seen before. In some cases, such as Julius' murals, they'd never even seen print before so that was great, especially being able to use them in the fold outs.

4. In your Introduction you remarked your interest in Internet based palaeoart:

«New paleoartistic stars are already in the ascendant, technically savvy as well as being as enthusiastic about prehistoric animals as the artists in this book. Computers hold no fear for them; they are posting online, on DeviantArt or Facebook. It’s the start of a new golden age» (Dinosaur Art, p. 11).

It is indeed quite impressive the amount of astonishing works of good or even excellent scientific and artistic quality that are being produced and spread through the Internet, in the wake of the new palaeoartistic “Dinosaur Renaissance” (the palaeoartistic milieu in Italy, for instance, is in full bloom: e.g., Marco Auditore, Davide Bonadonna, Michele Dessì, Fabio Manucci, Lukas Panzarin, Fabio Pastori, Loana Riboli and Emiliano Troco are just a few names whose visibility has greatly took advantage from the digital showcase).
Dinosaur Art is a bridge between iconic pictures of the recent past and brilliant & provocative works from the present: do you intend to maintain the same pondered balance in your next book on the same topic (if any is planned), or would you prefer to showcase the most recent, Internet based palaeoart only? Which are the most interesting Internet palaeoartists you have seen so far? 

S.W.: Hehe. Well that would largely depend on what I'm allowed to do! I have a few things in the pipeline although, sadly, I don't think (at least for now) it will be Dinosaur Art 2. I suspect the next volumes will be more 'singular' in their approach. However, hypothetically, if I had a chance to do a second volume, I would still want to mix it up, with a line-up of classics and up-and-comers. The book has actually really thrown the door open for me in terms of the number and quality of creators I have now come across, and I think I'd be genuinely spoilt for choice. I also harbour the desire to do 'The DeviantART Book of Dinosaurs.' I joined DA a few months ago and have been agog at the quality of so many of the artists out there. Through the wonders of social networking, I now follow them on Facebook and even Twitter, and it's like a virus. Usually, when I 'watch' someone on DA, I first go check their 'favourites' and that can lead in so many interesting directions. The number of artists I would love to work with or include in a forthcoming volume is growing exponentially, but if I had to choose a line-up of paleoartists whose work currently impresses me greatly, I'd definitely want to include Andrey Atuchin, Julio Lacerda, Michele-the-Sea, Emily Willoughby, Melissa Frankford, Blair Simpson, and Ville Sinkkonen – and that's to name but a few. Pretty much of all of the names I've mentioned I first came across on DA or Facebook. And, of course, too many, using a computer is second nature. To them, using Photoshop is as natural as using a pencil. The funny thing about that is that, in my eyes at least, it makes their digital work look very natural. With some of the older generation of artists who transited to digital, I've actually felt that the computer-generated stuff isn't as effective as their previous work. I guess it's just what you get used and sometimes the change can be a bit jarring. 

5. What is your own definition of palaeoart – or what should palaeoart be?

S.W.: I guess, to me, the simplest definition of paleoart is illustrating anatomically-correct extinct organisms as living ones; if they are in an environmental setting, that ecosystem should be equally accurate.

A “Palaeoartistic Enlightenment ”: Dinosaurs as (Deconstructed) Scientific Iconography

A fluffy Dilophosaurus wetherilli, by Fabio Manucci (2011; revised in 2013).
More info available here.

«To those who persist in viewing iconography as peripheral or subsidiary to text,

I can only respond with a primal fact of  our evolutionary biology.

Primates are quintessentially visual animals, and have been so endowed since the first

tree-dwellers of earliest Tertiary reconstructions had to move nimbly among the branches,

or fall to their deaths away from further scrutiny by natural selection. 

Humans, as legatees of this heritage, learn by seeing and visualizing».

Stephen J. Gould [1]

… And then there were three

Recently, three major contributions to the field of palaeoart* have been nearly simultaneously published. Here they are (in alphabetic order):

• Conway, J., Kosemen, C.M. & Naish, D. (2012). All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals. With Skeletal Diagrams by Scott Hartman. http://irregularbooks.co/: Irregular Books.
• Martyniuk, M.P. (2012). A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and Other Winged Dinosaurs. Vernon: PanAves.
• White, S. (2012). Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. London: Titan Books.

These books represent the vanguard of a critical rethinking about the basic approach and the tenets of prehistoric reconstruction. Though each one presents a unique and particular view, they all share one important point: they can be considered as the first products of a new understanding of palaeoart. With the partial exception of White’s book (which is a bit more complicated, since it includes different amazing works and many interviews of some of the greatest palaeoartists of these days – from iconic, historical pictures to new, hyper-real or impressionist forms of depiction), Martyniuk’s Field Guide and the multi-authored All Yesterdays could also be interpreted as a reasoned protest against palaeoartistic conventions. The typical and stale method which threatens palaeoart was once stigmatized by renowned palaeontologist Stephen Jay Gould as follows: «The social construction of fossil iconography lies best exposed in the conventions that create such an enormous departure between scenes as sketched and any conceivable counterpart in nature» [2]. In the current debate, dinosaurs are the main subjects of the old conventions’ deconstruction.

Without claiming to be complete, the brief historical background that follows is provided to better understand the impact of these three interesting books.

The heresy of Deinonychus

According to the orthodoxy of old, dinosaurs were depicted as «dimwitted hulks that managed to dominate by size alone until they were superseded by new, smarter, faster, warm-blooded mammals» [3]. During the Victorian era, the freshly coined term “dinosaur”, associated with the derogatory “tyrant”, was employed (among other conventions) «to push into prehuman past (and thus validate) Victorian optimism regarding the inevitable demise of despotic, immoral and inefficient forms of government, reaffirming the moral hierarchy which underpinned exhibitions such as the Crystal Palace» [4]. Their very name slowly became the paradigm of dominance by byzantine inertia, and «a language of empire and autocratic rule» was often used «to describe its relationship to the rest of the natural world» [5].

With slight modifications of this paradigm and with a few, notable exceptions (to cut a long story short), this conception lasted until the late Sixties of the twentieth century, when new discoveries and a new unorthodox stance held principally by Yale professor John Ostrom (and made popular by his former student Robert T. Bakker, palaeontologist and artist), slowly eroded the consensus built around the equation “dinosaurs = obsolescence”. Bakker challenged this claim through his entire academic career and his brilliant and fresh art. His iconic Deinonychus anthirropus, Ostrom 1969 (a new theropod dinosaur whose description was instrumental in the change of mind about dinosaurs’ physiology and ecology) ignited the debate and implicitly set a new artistic standard: agile, lean, elegant, warm-blooded and ever running animals versus the cold-blooded, ferociously stupid, swamp-bound behemoths doomed to extinction. Bakker became a fountain of scientific ideas and innovative (even provocative) artistic designs: galloping ceratopsids and athletic sauropods in the wake of the “Dinosaur Renaissance” were already present since 1968 or followed shortly thereafter, but Deinonychus retained its original status symbol.

In a popular account dated 1978 and published in «National Geographic», Ostrom wrote that «agility and speed are not what we usually visualize in cold-blooded reptiles. The image [of D. anthirropus] is more that of the large flightless birds like the ostrich, or of predatory runners like the secretary birds of Africa or the roadrunner of the American West» [6]. Ostrom stated that the predatory approach shown by Deinonychus fossils and other pieces of evidence, suggested that «at least some of the predatory dinosaurs might have been warm-blooded and have had high metabolic rates» [7], like modern mammals or predatory birds (which are the among the direct descendants of theropod dinosaurs). As Adrian J. Desmond put it, it was a time of vibrant rethinking about dinosaur physiology, which ultimately led to the abandon of “cold-blooded” reptiles as a suitable pattern for dinosaur physiology: «switching models focused attention onto previously unexplored aspects of the dinosaur, aspects that would never have suggested themselves in the old order» [8].

When the Dinomania ruled the world

The year 1993 saw the release of the blockbuster science fiction film Jurassic Park, directed by Steven Spielberg and based on a best-selling novel written by Michael Crichton. After the film was released, Gould asserted that «the slow, lumbering, stupid, robotic, virtually behaviorless behemoths of my childhood have been replaced by lithe, agile, potentially warm-blooded, adequately smart, and behaviorally complex creatures» [9], capable of maternal care and cooperative herds, swept away by the consequences of the unpredictable impact of an asteroid. Of all the panoply of dinosaurs, only the lineages that led to modern birds survived, as the final scene of Spielberg’s film romantically suggested.

Quite paradoxically, Jurassic Park paved the way towards the media diffusion of highly energetic, vicious and even malicious killing machines. As this heterogeneous fashion spread into commercial and publishing affairs, the «conventions of unnatural crowding and pervasive predation» [10], which granted once the success of late-nineteenth century carnivorous dinosaurs locked in perennial combat, was thus resurrected.

Nevertheless, the dinomania that roamed the mid 90’s under the banner of Jurassic Park was also the byproduct of the scientific research led by many palaeontologists. Particularly influential among them were Bakker and John Horner, whose works were acknowledged in the final section of Crichton’s novel (Horner eventually became the scientific consultant for Spielberg’s film and skilled artist Gregory S. Paul provided the palaeoartistic preliminary studies).

More or less independently from the initial purpose of the artistic founding fathers, intimate, normal behaviour was somehow lost in favour of the revival of a tennysonian «nature red in tooth and claw». Feathery or fluffy integuments (suggested since the 70’s by Bakker and popularized by his and Paul’s drawings in the 80’s), theropods playing in the snow like modern crows (as speculated by Bakker and depicted by Luis Rey), stegosaurs and prosauropods immortalized in bodily needs, infested by ticks or producing what millions of years later would have been known as coprolites (illustrated by William Stout in the early 80’s) were an uncommon, quite solitary but welcomed exception. Sadly, these were all paths not trodden and ignored by the majority of artists.

Liaoning and a new, cheap conformity

After a period of bizarre artistic hybrids sponsored by the publishing market (e.g., non-feathered active dinosaurs who retained the old Victorian morphology of massively built reptilian leviathans), the mid 90’s discovery of feathered theropod dinosaurs in China (Liaoning) helped to establish a new model: the «hyperkinetic dinosaurs of Bob Bakker and Gregory S. Paul» [11] finally won the case.

At the dawn of the new millennium, more rapidly than ever before (thanks to a new generation of Internet-confident users), the artistic koiné spread everywhere and turned into the acceptance of what Darren Naish labeled as the «Paul Era» [12], characterized by the adoption of original Gregory S. Paul’s «sleek style», i.e. a skinny, quite muscular rendition of the extinct dinosaurs. Sadly, this fashion led to the rapid increase of unoriginal clones who limited their works to the creation of «“zombie dinosaurs” – emaciated [dinosaurs] with virtually every bone on show through a paper-thin draping of skin. There is also a certain conformity, or conservatism, in palaeoart, with animals retaining certain looks and stereotyped behaviours in every work that they feature in» [13]. The “Dinosaur Renaissance” hardly promoted since the late Sixties was slowly turning into another kind of cliché (which, for the most part, misinterpreted the original intent), and a new, cheap conformity was born.

In the case of dinosaurs and other extinct animals, «the substrate for fascination has always been present, even in the bad old days of dumb and lumbering dinosaurs (who were still big, fierce, and extinct)» [14]; indeed, this fascination is perpetually nourished by commercial enterprises who, generally speaking, have not a keen interest in the scientific accuracy of what they produce (to say the least). With the exception of a few interesting, scientifically accurate and thought-provoking productions, the advent of CGI à bon marché marked the diffusion of TV shows and children books adorned with hyper-active, reptilian-looking, ever-battling, ever-roaring and poorly feathered dinosaurs (for slow is the acceptance of the “birds are dinosaurs” paradigm…), wrapped up in standardized renditions [15].

… And now what?

This short and introductory account is obviously imprecise and generalized. Artistic forerunners who pledged for the cause of a more realistic view of prehistoric ecology can easily be spotted even in the recent past (Bill Berry and Jay Matternes, for instance). At the same time, works judged scientifically outdated (e.g., those signed in the first half of the past century by masters like Zdenek Burian or Charles Knight) keep intact their unreachable artistic skill and value.

These few lines only explored the surface of an immense cultural theme. For instance, the entanglement of science and art in the history of palaeontology is another fascinating, and rather complicated, topic. As Jane Davidson recently wrote, «the science of paleontology has always been inextricably tied to art» [16]. Even in the better days of the bakkerian “Dinosaur Renaissance”, competing theories about dinosaur physiology (which some proved to be wrong a bit later) were fiercely proposed and harshly discussed – and competing artistic illustrations were designed in order to give these hypothesis a visual support.

The main point is that today, in the communities of both scholars and professional palaeoartists, a growing feeling of dissatisfaction about the contemporary palaeoartistic clichés is slowly gaining ground. At the present time, the need for a more accurate and sensitive artistic approach, in accordance to physiological, ecological and palaeontological research, is becoming widely spread. This is not a futile endeavour. As Gould pointed out, «iconography [is not] peripheral or subsidiary to text» [17] but, since our primate legacy, iconography (the result of controlled speculation and imagination) is the royal way to learning, communicate and convey scientific research.

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Groundbreaking palaeoart books published in 2012. From left to right: All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals; A Field Guide to Mesozoic Birds and Other Winged Dinosaurs; Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart.
All copyrights are the property of their respective owners. Disclaimer: Because the images are book covers, a form of product packaging, each entire image is needed to identify the product, properly convey the meaning and branding intended, and avoid tarnishing or misrepresenting the image. As book covers, the images are not replaceable by free content; any other image that shows the packaging of the book would also be copyrighted, and any version that is not true to the original would be inadequate for identification or commentary.

In order to understand the current flourishing “Palaeoartistic Enlightenment” (since “Dinosaur Renaissance” is preoccupied by the bakkerian revolution of the late Sixties), it is perhaps better to observe the recreation of ancient landscapes, frozen in the deep times of the Earth, from the point of view of the authors themselves. White, Naish & Matyniuk kindly accepted to respond to five questions each, concerning the contemporary palaeoartistic panorama and various other interesting topics. In the next posts you will find all the three interviews, so stay tuned!

* = Naish correctly notes that some scholars consider that the term “palaeoart” «should best be applied to art produced in prehistoric times» [18]. However, since the proposal for a new name referring to contemporary artwork (e.g., “palaeontography”) «has yet to catch on», I follow Naish’s classic choice of terminology.

Refs.

[1] Gould, S.J. (2001). Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, in id. (ed.), The Book of Life: An Illustrated History of the Evolution of Life on Earth, New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 6-21; 11 (1993 1st ed.).
[2] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.
[3] Parsons, K.M. (2001). Drawing Out Leviathan: Dinosaurs and the Science Wars, Bloomington-Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 22.
[4] O’Connor, R. (2012). Victorian Saurians: The Linguistic Prehistory of the Modern Dinosaur. «Journal of Victorian Culture», 17, 4: 492-504; 501.
[5] Semonin, P. (1997). Empire and Extinction: The Dinosaur as a Metaphor for Dominance in Prehistoric Nature. «Leonardo», 30, 3: 171-182; 181.
[6] Ostrom, J. (1978). Startling New Look at Dinosaurs. «National Geographic», 154, 2, August: 152-185; 161.
[7] Ostrom, Startling New Look, 164.
[8] Desmond, A.J. (1977). The Hot-Blooded Dinosaurs: A Revolution in Paleontology. Futura Publications: London; 71 (1975 1st ed.).
[9] Gould, S.J. (1993). Dinomania. Jurassic Park, directed by Steven Spielberg, screenplay by Michael Crichton, by David Koepp . Universal city studios; The Making of Jurassic Park by Don Shay, by Jody Duncan, Ballantine, 195 pp., $18.00 (paper); Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton, Ballantine, 399 pp., $6.99 (paper). «New York Review of Books», August 12, 1993:
<http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/1993/aug/12/dinomania/?pagination=false>.
[10] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.
[11] Martyniuk, M.P. (2012). All Yesterdays: Paleoart Enters A New Era. «Dinogoss», December 10, 2012: <http://dinogoss.blogspot.it/2012/12/all-yesterdays-paleoart-enters-new-era.html>.
[12] Vincent, M. (2012). All Yesterdays: the live conference room spectacular. «Love in the Time of Chasmosaurs», December 8, 2012: <http://chasmosaurs.blogspot.it/2012/12/all-yesterdays-live-conference-room.html>.
[13] Vincent, All Yesterdays.
[14] Gould, Dinomania.
[15] Cf. White, S. (2012). Dinosaur Renaissance: A Brief Prehistory of Paleoart, in id. (ed.). Dinosaur Art: The World’s Greatest Paleoart. London: Titan Books, 8-11; 10.
[16] Davidson, J. (2008). A History of Paleontology Illustration. Bloomington-Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. Quoted in Switek, B. (2009). Book Review: A History of Paleontology Illustration, in «Palaeontologia Electronica», 12 (1), pp. R3: <http://palaeo-electronica.org/2009_1/books/history.pdf>.
As Switek points out, «An in-depth analysis of how paleo-art (and paleontology in general) changed in the wake of the “Dinosaur Renaissance” is left wanting».
[17] Gould, Reconstructing (and Deconstructing) the Past, 7.
[18] Naish, D. (2012). Introduction, in Conway, J., Kosemen, C.M. & Naish, D., All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals. With Skeletal Diagrams by Scott Hartman. http://irregularbooks.co/: Irregular Books 2012, 8-16; 14 (note no 1). 

Refs. indicized by Research Blogging:
O'Connor, R. (2012). Victorian Saurians: The Linguistic Prehistory of the Modern Dinosaur Journal of Victorian Culture, 17 (4), 492-504 DOI: 10.1080/13555502.2012.738896
Semonin, P. (1997). Empire and Extinction: The Dinosaur as a Metaphor for Dominance in Prehistoric Nature Leonardo, 30 (3) DOI: 10.2307/1576441