|Oscar, Darwin, and Wallace|
Several readers may recall Marc's having covered Blackgang Chine's The Triassic Club before. After our return this Easter to view the newly installed robosaurs of Restricted Area 5, I decided to finally complete this little project which I had actually begun a year ago, that of accurately illustrating the gentlemanly trio (which, for me, also meant accurate period garments, naturally). This was not only overdue but was especially necessary, since the inclement weather during the latter part of our Isle of Wight visit prevented me from drawing a dinosaur on Shanklin beach as I did last time.
All the drawings are art card size at 2.5 x 3.5 inches (so you're viewing them larger than actual size on screen). The lord and master of the trio, Darwin the Allosaurus was the first to have been drawn and completed last year. Louche, aristocratic and lasciviously suave to reflect his voice and speech. 'Come in. Oh, do come in...'
In completing the others this time round, I found myself unintentionally drawing them in greater detail and spending longer on each. Other than Darwin himself, we're never told which specific dinosaurs his companions are. Oscar the pianist is presumably an ornithomimosaur of some sort. He seems to have effectively become an extant ratite in this drawing, which is especially unavoidable when all one sees is his head and neck. I replaced the beer glass of the original model with a tankard. Whilst I've tried to keep the eyes of the others fairly avian in terms of their visible components, I deliberately drew Oscar's with a distinct iris and sclera to keep the wild-eyed, permanently alarmed expression of the original. It was too comical not to.
I initially wondered if I could turn Wallace the butler into an Ornitholestes, given that his generic theropod appearance seemed to afford free rein, but I was reminded by Marc of the sickle claws on his feet. A dromaeosaur, then. I think he became my favourite drawing of the three. Though the new(er) audio recording of his voice is that of a squeaky, fretful, hapless underling, Marc informs me that he originally possessed an altogether loftier tone. I tried to reflect that slightly supercilious yet put-upon expression. 'The Master is expecting you. He's always expecting something. And guess who has to get it for him? Me, that's who!'
As a bonus, I thought I may as well share this, too. You are already familiar with our saurian portraits, but here are our avian ones (because I can, and because confusing people seems to be my forté). Marc (the magpie) and I enduring that aforementioned inclement weather on Easter Sunday.