Showing posts with label eleanor kish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eleanor kish. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Vintage Dinosaur Art: Presenting Tyrannosaurus rex
While best known for her spectacular work with Dale Russell on An Odyssey in Time, the late, great Eleanor 'Ely' Kish remained active in palaeoart throughout the '80s and into the '90s, although many of the books she illustrated are now quite obscure. This would be one of those. In fact, this was one of those cases where I saw an intriguing-looking book appear on eBay for the first time, only to obtain it and realise that I had it as a kid. Given that, it unsurprisingly concerns everyone's favourite hungry hungry horror. May I present Presenting Tyrannosaurus rex.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Vintage Dinosaur Art: An Odyssey In Time: The Dinosaurs of North America - Part 2
It's high time for some more Eleanor Kish, as brought to you in partnership with palaeontologist and author Dale Russell. If you missed the first part, then what on Earth were you thinking? I mean, really, are we supposed to believe that you actually had something better to do? Anyway, go and check it out. On with the show.
As noted last time, scanner-related limitations mean that I am forced to present mere details from some (OK, almost all) of the pieces. As such, this Stygimoloch should be imagined as part of a far wider forest scene, presenting the animal as part of an enormous and complex ecosystem, as is par for the course with Kish (and a few other artists, notably Doug Henderson). Its wonderful colour scheme (chevron tail!) demonstrates a typically Kishian affinity and aptitude for cryptic camouflage. It may appear horrendously shrink-wrapped today, but it's possible to appreciate the careful painting of the animal's hide in the dappled light, and the beautifully naturalistic appearance of its poise. It's possible to imagine stumbling upon this creature as it skulked through the forest, with the animal giving the viewer a cautious glance before continuing on its way.
A similar impression can be gleaned from this painting of 'a fabrosaur' (modeled on Scutellosaurus). It is similarly peaceful, dominated by impressive foliage and depicting an animal pausing to drink from a stream. The eye is immediately drawn to the animal in the foreground, and it's easy to let the mind fill in the blanks as regards the forested background - however, closer inspection reveals a surprisingly alien flora, as it no doubt was back in the Early Jurassic. The water here is particularly impressive, I feel (then again, I'm easily impressed by a pretty reflection).
The 'soft tissue light' approach can often produce some startling results. The animal on the right, for example, looks so radically different from the chunkier renditions that we're used to that, unless you're familiar with the skeleton, it's hard to tell what it is (I may well have said something similar about Maiasaura last time). In fact, this rather sad-looking creature is an unusually cheek-and-Deinonychus-less Tenontosaurus. Again, it may look a little emaciated, but seeing this animal without an accompanying troupe of merrily jumping dromaeosaurs is rare even today, so much so that a fairly conventional-looking John Conway Tenontosaurus simply strolling about made it into All Yesterdays. Granted, there is a theropod here, but it's a rather unthreatening Microvenator (an oviraptorosaur). Contrary to many depictions of this animal in which the focus is on blood and guts and fangs and claws and blood and fighting and blood and death, here Tenontosaurus is virtually upstaged by the glorious forest behind it. The plants will take back palaeoart, in the end!
In a similar vein, here are some Hesperornis sitting in front of a fantastically beautiful pine forest. They don't appear to be anywhere near awed enough by their surroundings. I posted this photo on Facebook, and Matthew Inabinett noted that this environment was an unusual one for these particular animals to be shown in. Indeed it is - although they are not depicted in palaeoart too frequently, these loon-like swimming birds are typically shown chasing fish in a very definitely marine habitat. However, my exhaustive research that certainly didn't consist of a cursory glance at Wikipedia confirms that Hesperornis remains have been found in freshwater formations. Once again, Kish has taken a substantial break from palaeoart convention - and all those years ago.
Kish's Triceratops piece has graced the hallowed pages of LITC before, way back when David - aged just six at the time - was the solo author. It's an older work, dating from 1975, and the animals actually appear notably less shrink-wrapped than they might have done had they been painted in the '80s. Those sprawling forelimbs are a rather unfortunate anachronism, but it's a superbly painted piece that is still uncharacteristically anatomically rigorous for the time. If I wanted to sound especially plummy, I might even call it 'splendid'. But I won't be doing that.
And finally...when I previously bloggerated about this book, I assured concerned commenter SciaticPain (lovely) that I'd comment on Russell's writing this time around. Unfortunately, I'm a filthy, lazy liar, and you should probably lock me in the stocks and pelt me with rotting fruit - for you see, I've hardly read any of the text at all. (To be fair to, er, me, these posts are mostly about the art - I'd require a whole other series for the text.) However, what I've looked at is, as SciaticPain (oh dear) rightly said, a very good read indeed. I was struck by its pertinence from the off, when Prof Dale touched upon an issue that has affected every dinosaur enthusiast, from the museum-clogging child to the wizened academic in his office filled with undergraduates' half-arsed essays:
Whatever you might think of Old Greeny Bug-Eyes, this is a remarkable book that deserves the utmost respect, both for Dale Russell's impassioned writing and Eleanor Kish's ground-breaking palaeoart. It's well worth searching for.
As noted last time, scanner-related limitations mean that I am forced to present mere details from some (OK, almost all) of the pieces. As such, this Stygimoloch should be imagined as part of a far wider forest scene, presenting the animal as part of an enormous and complex ecosystem, as is par for the course with Kish (and a few other artists, notably Doug Henderson). Its wonderful colour scheme (chevron tail!) demonstrates a typically Kishian affinity and aptitude for cryptic camouflage. It may appear horrendously shrink-wrapped today, but it's possible to appreciate the careful painting of the animal's hide in the dappled light, and the beautifully naturalistic appearance of its poise. It's possible to imagine stumbling upon this creature as it skulked through the forest, with the animal giving the viewer a cautious glance before continuing on its way.
A similar impression can be gleaned from this painting of 'a fabrosaur' (modeled on Scutellosaurus). It is similarly peaceful, dominated by impressive foliage and depicting an animal pausing to drink from a stream. The eye is immediately drawn to the animal in the foreground, and it's easy to let the mind fill in the blanks as regards the forested background - however, closer inspection reveals a surprisingly alien flora, as it no doubt was back in the Early Jurassic. The water here is particularly impressive, I feel (then again, I'm easily impressed by a pretty reflection).
The 'soft tissue light' approach can often produce some startling results. The animal on the right, for example, looks so radically different from the chunkier renditions that we're used to that, unless you're familiar with the skeleton, it's hard to tell what it is (I may well have said something similar about Maiasaura last time). In fact, this rather sad-looking creature is an unusually cheek-and-Deinonychus-less Tenontosaurus. Again, it may look a little emaciated, but seeing this animal without an accompanying troupe of merrily jumping dromaeosaurs is rare even today, so much so that a fairly conventional-looking John Conway Tenontosaurus simply strolling about made it into All Yesterdays. Granted, there is a theropod here, but it's a rather unthreatening Microvenator (an oviraptorosaur). Contrary to many depictions of this animal in which the focus is on blood and guts and fangs and claws and blood and fighting and blood and death, here Tenontosaurus is virtually upstaged by the glorious forest behind it. The plants will take back palaeoart, in the end!
In a similar vein, here are some Hesperornis sitting in front of a fantastically beautiful pine forest. They don't appear to be anywhere near awed enough by their surroundings. I posted this photo on Facebook, and Matthew Inabinett noted that this environment was an unusual one for these particular animals to be shown in. Indeed it is - although they are not depicted in palaeoart too frequently, these loon-like swimming birds are typically shown chasing fish in a very definitely marine habitat. However, my exhaustive research that certainly didn't consist of a cursory glance at Wikipedia confirms that Hesperornis remains have been found in freshwater formations. Once again, Kish has taken a substantial break from palaeoart convention - and all those years ago.
Kish's Triceratops piece has graced the hallowed pages of LITC before, way back when David - aged just six at the time - was the solo author. It's an older work, dating from 1975, and the animals actually appear notably less shrink-wrapped than they might have done had they been painted in the '80s. Those sprawling forelimbs are a rather unfortunate anachronism, but it's a superbly painted piece that is still uncharacteristically anatomically rigorous for the time. If I wanted to sound especially plummy, I might even call it 'splendid'. But I won't be doing that.
And finally...when I previously bloggerated about this book, I assured concerned commenter SciaticPain (lovely) that I'd comment on Russell's writing this time around. Unfortunately, I'm a filthy, lazy liar, and you should probably lock me in the stocks and pelt me with rotting fruit - for you see, I've hardly read any of the text at all. (To be fair to, er, me, these posts are mostly about the art - I'd require a whole other series for the text.) However, what I've looked at is, as SciaticPain (oh dear) rightly said, a very good read indeed. I was struck by its pertinence from the off, when Prof Dale touched upon an issue that has affected every dinosaur enthusiast, from the museum-clogging child to the wizened academic in his office filled with undergraduates' half-arsed essays:
"'Dinosaurs? They're extinct! You can't feed dinosaurs to hungry people, and there are more important things for youngsters to learn in order to prepare for life...'It is common for an interest in prehistoric life to be viewed as an irrelevant, childish frivolity. In An Odyssey In Time, Russell goes to highly impressive lengths to show that this is not so, and to tie such an interest in with a broader view of the history of life on Earth. In fact, in his closing chapters, he encompasses no less than the entire cosmos. In such a context, it seems plain mean to produce a photo of that 'Dinosauroid' thing, so of course I won't. I'm a kind and charming soul really.
Perhaps the names of those of us who could make the foregoing comment our own are legion. Why is it not the same with our children? ...They dream about dinosaurs, draw them...Dinosaurs are a touchstone that separates the mentality of children from that of adults."
Whatever you might think of Old Greeny Bug-Eyes, this is a remarkable book that deserves the utmost respect, both for Dale Russell's impassioned writing and Eleanor Kish's ground-breaking palaeoart. It's well worth searching for.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Vintage Dinosaur Art: An Odyssey In Time: The Dinosaurs of North America
Taking a break from De Oerwereld, we return this week to an artist who's probably been a little under-appreciated. Eleanor 'Ely' Kish produced her most important work in the 1970s and early 1980s, and a great deal of it is gathered together in Dale Russell's hefty An Odyssey In Time: The Dinosaurs of North America. It's a beautiful book, and one that is truly brought to life (as Russell acknowledges) by Kish's stunning paintings, even if time has not been kind to the way that many of the animals have been restored.
Now don't get me wrong - I wish to make it very clear that I consider Kish's work to be truly masterful. This particularly applies to the reconstructed palaeoenvironments that the animals inhabit; not only did Kish take the task of including the correct flora very seriously, the worlds depicted in her work are frequently breathtaking in scale and detail. In short, they are utterly believable. Kish also paid keen attention to composition and technique, such that - as with all the best palaeoartists - her work stands proudly as art for its own sake, even without considering the palaeontological element.
All of that said, show someone a '70s or early '80s Kish dinosaur these days and the first thing they'll say is "Holy crap, that's skinny!". Kish's restorations represent one of the most extreme faces of what's come to be known as 'shrink-wrapping' in palaeoart - that is, the animals are little more than skeletons with dust sheets thrown over them. Indeed, the above piece - depicting an Apatosaurus pair crossing a mud flat - was even used by Darren Naish in his All Yesterdays presentation to exemplify the 'shrink-wrapping' style. It's easy, here, to appreciate the beauty of the landscape, and the skillful creation of moonlit reflections in the shallow waters of this peaceful delta - but, to modern eyes, the emaciated sauropods are jarring and horrific. 'Zombie dinosaurs', indeed.
Of course, it's always important to remember the era in which works were produced. Such ultra-skinny dinosaurs may well have been an over-reaction to the lumpen, lardy 'evolutionary failures' that had dominated palaeoart for decades; in Kish's case, it might also have been down to the scientific advice she was being given at the time (although I've only heard that one on rumour!). Whatever the case, it's perhaps most important to note the rigorous approach to restoration that Kish employed - an approach that contrasted with even the best of the 'classic' palaeoartists (although Burian did try, using what limited resources he had available to him). The skins of her dinosaurs might adhere too closely to their skeletons, but at least the skeletons themselves adhere closely to their real counterparts.
Naturally, there are cases in which one can justifiably portray a skeletal dinosaur - and I'm not only saying that as a cheap joke with regard to the Diplodo-corpses above. Scroll up a little, and you will notice that Kish's Massospondylus are tragic, doomed wanderers in a vast desertscape that is utterly barren, save for the faintest glimmer of water in the distance. The scene invites us to imagine these two desperate, starving dinosaurs wandering for days over the dunes in search of a water source. They might even then be too skinny (they do need room for their internal organs), but at least their painfully thin appearance makes sense to a contemporary viewer. Those corpses aren't bad either...
On other occasions, Kish's work has aged better than it might have scientifically because the animals are not the focus. Show the above painting to someone who isn't palaeontologically inclined, and they'll probably only notice the astonishing realism and beauty of the shoreline at first, in spite of the sauropods ("Pleurocoelus") milling around casually in the background. Kish broke new ground in making dinosaurs a component of a wider environment and ecosystem in her art.
The history of hadrosaurs in palaeoart isn't explored all that often (now there's an idea...), but their depiction has gone from tubby tripods, to more slimline bipeds/quadrupeds, to more fleshy and bulky quadrupeds and occasionally outright porkers. As one might expect, Kish's Corythosaurus represent the second stage in that evolution; they are so thin as to be near-unrecognisable next to today's much more massive-looking restorations, but represent a leap forward from the embarrassing, web-handed 'duckbills' of the previous generation. Dale Russell's influence on this beautiful bayou can be felt with the Troodon stage left, which bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain well-known model. The sharp-eyed will also spot a fragment of long-dead tyrannosaur hanging out in the bottom left.
Speaking of hadrosaurs, someone - like me - who grew up with the palaeoart of the 1990s would be hard-pressed to recognise these creatures as Maiasaura, such is the extent of the shrink-wrapping. One especially peculiar, but inevitable result of shrink-wrapping that Kish does not hide is that the pubic bones protrude to the extent that the animals could seemingly use them as crude stabbing weapons. Still, the painting makes wonderful use of light and shade, as does...
...Kish's depiction of two Dryptosaurus engaging in a mating ritual. These two might just be the nadir of the corpsetastic, Tim Burton, heroin chic approach to dinosaur restoration, but the scene behind them is a mind-kersploder. It's almost possible to feel the warmth of the setting sun, and to hear the cries of the flocking birds as they fly to their evening roost. The composition here, too, is uncommonly superb for a work of palaeoart. In spite of how unsettling I might find the wiry tyrannosauroids in the foreground (is anyone else reminded of the Jurassic Park Coelophysis toy?), this is one of my favourite pieces in the book, simply for its dazzling display of artistic skill.
Some dinosaurs, of course, are just too chunky to shrink-wrap, and Tyrannosaurus is surely one of them. Sure, you can choose to display every facet of its skull through the skin in ghoulish detail, but there's no getting away from its absurdly massive, beer keg chest and enormous hips and thighs. Here, again, we see Kish's skill in composition (and Niroot is quite envious of the well-executed palm tree). This is also one of the few Kish pieces to feature dinosaurs in 'action' poses - never mind the fact that T. rex is busy reducing Edmontosaurus to delicious, filleted meaty strips. They'd be finger lickin' good, if only it could lick its fingers.
The same principle can also be applied to ankylosaurs - the spiny walking coffee tables of the Mesozoic are simply too wide to be restored in a truly anorexic fashion. While the browsing Sauropelta are quite fetching in themselves, I again regret not being able to present the entire picture here, which is far more expansive and lovingly created than this detail suggests. I guess the only course of action is for you all to find a copy of the book...
Eleanor Kish, then. Come to ogle the super-skinny dinosaurs, but stay for the masterful artistry. We've covered Kish on three occasions before, and I may well return to An Odyssey In Time somewhere down the line - not only to feature more glorious Kish artwork, but because it also features that perennial favourite, the 'Dinosauroid' (nothing to do with Kish, I might add). As for next week...there'll be something completely different!
Now don't get me wrong - I wish to make it very clear that I consider Kish's work to be truly masterful. This particularly applies to the reconstructed palaeoenvironments that the animals inhabit; not only did Kish take the task of including the correct flora very seriously, the worlds depicted in her work are frequently breathtaking in scale and detail. In short, they are utterly believable. Kish also paid keen attention to composition and technique, such that - as with all the best palaeoartists - her work stands proudly as art for its own sake, even without considering the palaeontological element.
All of that said, show someone a '70s or early '80s Kish dinosaur these days and the first thing they'll say is "Holy crap, that's skinny!". Kish's restorations represent one of the most extreme faces of what's come to be known as 'shrink-wrapping' in palaeoart - that is, the animals are little more than skeletons with dust sheets thrown over them. Indeed, the above piece - depicting an Apatosaurus pair crossing a mud flat - was even used by Darren Naish in his All Yesterdays presentation to exemplify the 'shrink-wrapping' style. It's easy, here, to appreciate the beauty of the landscape, and the skillful creation of moonlit reflections in the shallow waters of this peaceful delta - but, to modern eyes, the emaciated sauropods are jarring and horrific. 'Zombie dinosaurs', indeed.
Of course, it's always important to remember the era in which works were produced. Such ultra-skinny dinosaurs may well have been an over-reaction to the lumpen, lardy 'evolutionary failures' that had dominated palaeoart for decades; in Kish's case, it might also have been down to the scientific advice she was being given at the time (although I've only heard that one on rumour!). Whatever the case, it's perhaps most important to note the rigorous approach to restoration that Kish employed - an approach that contrasted with even the best of the 'classic' palaeoartists (although Burian did try, using what limited resources he had available to him). The skins of her dinosaurs might adhere too closely to their skeletons, but at least the skeletons themselves adhere closely to their real counterparts.
Naturally, there are cases in which one can justifiably portray a skeletal dinosaur - and I'm not only saying that as a cheap joke with regard to the Diplodo-corpses above. Scroll up a little, and you will notice that Kish's Massospondylus are tragic, doomed wanderers in a vast desertscape that is utterly barren, save for the faintest glimmer of water in the distance. The scene invites us to imagine these two desperate, starving dinosaurs wandering for days over the dunes in search of a water source. They might even then be too skinny (they do need room for their internal organs), but at least their painfully thin appearance makes sense to a contemporary viewer. Those corpses aren't bad either...
On other occasions, Kish's work has aged better than it might have scientifically because the animals are not the focus. Show the above painting to someone who isn't palaeontologically inclined, and they'll probably only notice the astonishing realism and beauty of the shoreline at first, in spite of the sauropods ("Pleurocoelus") milling around casually in the background. Kish broke new ground in making dinosaurs a component of a wider environment and ecosystem in her art.
The history of hadrosaurs in palaeoart isn't explored all that often (now there's an idea...), but their depiction has gone from tubby tripods, to more slimline bipeds/quadrupeds, to more fleshy and bulky quadrupeds and occasionally outright porkers. As one might expect, Kish's Corythosaurus represent the second stage in that evolution; they are so thin as to be near-unrecognisable next to today's much more massive-looking restorations, but represent a leap forward from the embarrassing, web-handed 'duckbills' of the previous generation. Dale Russell's influence on this beautiful bayou can be felt with the Troodon stage left, which bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain well-known model. The sharp-eyed will also spot a fragment of long-dead tyrannosaur hanging out in the bottom left.
Speaking of hadrosaurs, someone - like me - who grew up with the palaeoart of the 1990s would be hard-pressed to recognise these creatures as Maiasaura, such is the extent of the shrink-wrapping. One especially peculiar, but inevitable result of shrink-wrapping that Kish does not hide is that the pubic bones protrude to the extent that the animals could seemingly use them as crude stabbing weapons. Still, the painting makes wonderful use of light and shade, as does...
...Kish's depiction of two Dryptosaurus engaging in a mating ritual. These two might just be the nadir of the corpsetastic, Tim Burton, heroin chic approach to dinosaur restoration, but the scene behind them is a mind-kersploder. It's almost possible to feel the warmth of the setting sun, and to hear the cries of the flocking birds as they fly to their evening roost. The composition here, too, is uncommonly superb for a work of palaeoart. In spite of how unsettling I might find the wiry tyrannosauroids in the foreground (is anyone else reminded of the Jurassic Park Coelophysis toy?), this is one of my favourite pieces in the book, simply for its dazzling display of artistic skill.
Some dinosaurs, of course, are just too chunky to shrink-wrap, and Tyrannosaurus is surely one of them. Sure, you can choose to display every facet of its skull through the skin in ghoulish detail, but there's no getting away from its absurdly massive, beer keg chest and enormous hips and thighs. Here, again, we see Kish's skill in composition (and Niroot is quite envious of the well-executed palm tree). This is also one of the few Kish pieces to feature dinosaurs in 'action' poses - never mind the fact that T. rex is busy reducing Edmontosaurus to delicious, filleted meaty strips. They'd be finger lickin' good, if only it could lick its fingers.
The same principle can also be applied to ankylosaurs - the spiny walking coffee tables of the Mesozoic are simply too wide to be restored in a truly anorexic fashion. While the browsing Sauropelta are quite fetching in themselves, I again regret not being able to present the entire picture here, which is far more expansive and lovingly created than this detail suggests. I guess the only course of action is for you all to find a copy of the book...
Eleanor Kish, then. Come to ogle the super-skinny dinosaurs, but stay for the masterful artistry. We've covered Kish on three occasions before, and I may well return to An Odyssey In Time somewhere down the line - not only to feature more glorious Kish artwork, but because it also features that perennial favourite, the 'Dinosauroid' (nothing to do with Kish, I might add). As for next week...there'll be something completely different!
Monday, December 24, 2012
Vintage Dinosaur Art: Dinosaur Babies
If any of the great artists of the Dinosaur Renaissance era deserve a much greater online presence than they currently have, then it's Eleanor (aka Ely) Kish. We've only featured her work on two occasions before, and this is the first book to grace LITC that is entirely illustrated by her. Happily, it's also a pop-up book - from the same National Geographic series as the recently-featured Creatures of Long Ago: Dinosaurs. As the title suggests, it's an insurmountable onslaught of cute.
Dinosaur Babies is quite unusual for Kish in that, by necessity of the format, it places the animals up front and centre, rather than featuring them as components of a more broadly realised prehistoric landscape. That doesn't stop the backgrounds being beautiful, of course, as amply demonstrated by the gorgeous desert scene on the cover. Of course, the Pinacosaurus are lovely too - I'm particularly taken by the expression on the face of the individual on the right. It's not impressed...
Maiasaura was another shoo-in for a book like this, for obvious reasons. In fact, a Maiasaura nesting site also appeared in Sibbick's pop-up effort, and there are a number of similarities - from the viewer taking on a nestling's perspective, to the adult chasing off a Troodon in the background. While the Sibbick scene, with its three-dimensional rendering of the mother's head, is the more striking overall, Kish's take is still delightful. The protruding arms are a nice touch.
My favourite scene in Dinosaur Babies is definitely this one, featuring cryptically camouflaged young Corythosaurus attempting to evade the eyes of prowling Albertosaurus. Cryptic camouflage remains a surprisingly underexplored theme in palaeoart (with recent notable examples popping up in All Yesterdays), and Kish has a particular talent for it. Of course, this is also an effective showcase for Kish's skill in creating highly detailed, believable and lush forested landscapes for her dinosaurs to dwell in. More than any other spread in the book, this one is bursting with tiny details and charming interactive features.
A 1980s book about fresh-from-the-egg saurians was inevitably going to feature Protoceratops - after all, it took a nest with it wherever it went (even the Carnegie toy had one). True to form, the opening spread features a hatchling peering right out of the page at you. There's wonderful attention to detail - note the egg teeth - and the inclusion of a lizard, if quite common in these scenes, helps add a little faunal variety. The adult animals display Kish's typical anatomical rigour, with a modern-style posture advanced from the sprawling, lizardy portrayal of the animal that was still quite prevalent at the time. Kish's creations were sometimes prone to 'zombie dinosaur' syndrome - deathly thin with a pelvis that could take your eye out - but fortunately there's scant evidence of that here.
Maiasaura was another shoo-in for a book like this, for obvious reasons. In fact, a Maiasaura nesting site also appeared in Sibbick's pop-up effort, and there are a number of similarities - from the viewer taking on a nestling's perspective, to the adult chasing off a Troodon in the background. While the Sibbick scene, with its three-dimensional rendering of the mother's head, is the more striking overall, Kish's take is still delightful. The protruding arms are a nice touch.
My favourite scene in Dinosaur Babies is definitely this one, featuring cryptically camouflaged young Corythosaurus attempting to evade the eyes of prowling Albertosaurus. Cryptic camouflage remains a surprisingly underexplored theme in palaeoart (with recent notable examples popping up in All Yesterdays), and Kish has a particular talent for it. Of course, this is also an effective showcase for Kish's skill in creating highly detailed, believable and lush forested landscapes for her dinosaurs to dwell in. More than any other spread in the book, this one is bursting with tiny details and charming interactive features.
Pulling this tab, for example, will conceal two young hadrosaurs in the foliage as they cower from their toothy aggressor.
The tyrannosaur's head, leering out over the top of the page, helps set the scene very effectively - the very motion of it popping up akin to what the hadrosaurlings would see as the predator scanned over the undergrowth. Lifting a flap to the right reveals a Corythosaurus staring up at the carnivore, looking utterly terrified to be suddenly exposed. Just brilliant stuff.
While the Corythosaurus scene remains superb, this baby Deinonychus tug-of-war hasn't aged so well - if it weren't for the feet, these creatures would be unrecognisable as dromaeosaurs (the purple colouring is also, in retrospect, rather unfortunate). They seem to have cheeks, not to mention what appears to be luscious lipstick. Oh dear. It's always good to see Deinonychus doing something other than reducing an implausibly large adversary to juicy meaty chunks - look, there's one scratching! - but this one is perhaps best skipped over. Except...
...this is a nifty feature - the terrified Gobiconodon are just getting an eyeful at first, but pulling a tab sends forth a probing claw. Again, Deinonychus predating animals smaller than itself is a pleasant change.
Ah, the good old paddlin' sauropod. The animal ("Pleurocoelus", one of those dodgy genera with complicated histories) appears to be an adult but, strangely, is described as a 'thousand pound baby' in the text. Never mind - the scene is rendered pleasantly enough and the sauropod is decent for the '80s (remember, some people were still illustrating toddling 'brontosaurs' at this time), while the pop-up element is put to good effect in creating the tangled plant life dragged along by the giant animal.
Pulling the tabs here results in one animal swimming across the lake, while another (in the cameo image) pops its head up to say hello. Unfortunately, its face rather resembles that of the highly phylotarded sauropods in the brilliant documentary Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend.
And finally, as previewed on Facebook, here it is - the adorable Styracosaurus tot, bounding out of the page toward the reader, with a mischievous glint in his eye! A beautiful illustration. This spread also sees an airing of the now-discarded 'ceratopsian wagon circle' meme (below), with a deft pull of the tab making the facing animals flick their heads into the air. Unfortunately, Daspletosaurus seems to have fallen foul of the Curse of the Dodgy Perspective, but seeing a herd of ceratopsians acting like frontiersmen is sweetly nostalgic in a way that only peculiarly prevalent stereotyped notions of dinosaur behaviour as depicted in art can be.
There'll be more Vintage Dinosaur Art in the new year, when I embark on the futile task of attempting to scan pages from the gigantic De Oerwereld van de Dinosauriërs (Czerkas & Czerkas) using my pathetic all-in-one printer. Keep it Chasmosaurs!
Monday, January 2, 2012
Vintage Dinosaur Art: The Reign of the Dinosaurs
This New Horizons title from 1992 caught my eye on eBay - I will confess - because the cover illustration is very, very strange. That is one terrifying-looking tyrannosaur - bordering on surreal, actually. Expecting more weirdness inside, I snapped it up only to find that, in fact, it contains a great deal of stunning artwork. Why the publishers chose to stick such a bad piece on the cover (clearly by a jobbing illustrator - spot the Sibbick reference) given what's presented inside the book is anyone's guess.
Alongside some well-worn art from the likes of Burian, Zallinger and Parker (pretty much all of which has been featured here before), this book features stunning work from, in particular, Mark Hallett and Eleanor Kish. A couple of the pieces included - a cryptically-camouflaged Hypacrosaurus by Kish and a rather dead Triceratops being picked over by mammals from Hallett - have already been looked at by David. However, there's a lot here that's new to LITC.
There is one thing I need to get out of the way, however, before we begin with the good stuff.
Wah-waaaaaah. Oh, the 1980s (or, ahem, early '90s)...
Never mind, though - here comes an amazing artwork from Mark Hallett (with apologies for the big ol' page fold - this is a small book).
When I first stumbled upon this in this book I couldn't quite believe my eyes. This is from the 1980s!?! Holy crap! The only possible explanation for such excellence is that Hallett is in possession of a TARDIS. The theropod in the centre of this scene (Rapator - a possible allosauroid known from very fragmentary remains) has correctly-orientated forelimbs, the brachiosaurs have accurate hands and feet, and most astonishingly of all the little theropod in the foreground (Kakuru, again known from very fragmentary remains) appears to have a protofeather coat. Just stunning. I can't quite believe that this painting didn't feature in more dinosaur books in the early '90s.
More recognisable is this piece from 1986, entitled Crossing the Flat. It depicts everyone's favourite disproportionately long-necked sauropod Mamenchisaurus. Not a lot to say about this one - it's beautiful, though.
Eleanor Kish, for her part, also contributes a number of pieces that are very beautifully painted, even if they haven't aged as well as Hallett's.
Her reconstructions are excellent for the 1980s, and apparently she went as far as to create models of the animals' skeletons, reconstructing them in 3D before moving on to the painting at hand. Even if this Saurolophus looks a little dated now (and the swan-necked plesiosaur merrily paddling along in the background is particularly unfortunate), Kish is superb at believably placing her animals in environments in such a way that they look like part of the ecosystem, rather than obviously being the centre of attention. The book quotes Dale Russell as saying that Kish creates "images of landscapes [palaeontologists] can never see".
This Daspletosaurus (shown scaring off a champsosaur) does have a notably peculiar head - it's a bit of a shrink-wrapped skull with huge eyes. Still, I wouldn't mind having this painting on my wall - just drink in that lush scenery.
Finally, here's a particularly bleak scene from Kish entitled Chasmosaurus, with the titular ceratopsian's corpse being picked over by two small maniraptoran theropods (it's difficult to tell whether they are dromaeosaurs or troodonts, although they are probably the former). Apart from being naked (of course), the theropods do look very, very skinny, although one could argue that, given the context of the scene, perhaps they are starving. The weird, pointy protuberance of the pubic bones seems to be something common to Kish's dinosaurs. Still, this is a highly evocative and desolate scene. In the book it's included in the chapter on the K/Pg extinction event. Of course the painting could not be set at that time, but rather about ten million years before, given that Chasmosaurus is known from the Dinosaur Park Formation.
Alongside some well-worn art from the likes of Burian, Zallinger and Parker (pretty much all of which has been featured here before), this book features stunning work from, in particular, Mark Hallett and Eleanor Kish. A couple of the pieces included - a cryptically-camouflaged Hypacrosaurus by Kish and a rather dead Triceratops being picked over by mammals from Hallett - have already been looked at by David. However, there's a lot here that's new to LITC.
There is one thing I need to get out of the way, however, before we begin with the good stuff.
Wah-waaaaaah. Oh, the 1980s (or, ahem, early '90s)...
Never mind, though - here comes an amazing artwork from Mark Hallett (with apologies for the big ol' page fold - this is a small book).
When I first stumbled upon this in this book I couldn't quite believe my eyes. This is from the 1980s!?! Holy crap! The only possible explanation for such excellence is that Hallett is in possession of a TARDIS. The theropod in the centre of this scene (Rapator - a possible allosauroid known from very fragmentary remains) has correctly-orientated forelimbs, the brachiosaurs have accurate hands and feet, and most astonishingly of all the little theropod in the foreground (Kakuru, again known from very fragmentary remains) appears to have a protofeather coat. Just stunning. I can't quite believe that this painting didn't feature in more dinosaur books in the early '90s.
More recognisable is this piece from 1986, entitled Crossing the Flat. It depicts everyone's favourite disproportionately long-necked sauropod Mamenchisaurus. Not a lot to say about this one - it's beautiful, though.
Eleanor Kish, for her part, also contributes a number of pieces that are very beautifully painted, even if they haven't aged as well as Hallett's.
Her reconstructions are excellent for the 1980s, and apparently she went as far as to create models of the animals' skeletons, reconstructing them in 3D before moving on to the painting at hand. Even if this Saurolophus looks a little dated now (and the swan-necked plesiosaur merrily paddling along in the background is particularly unfortunate), Kish is superb at believably placing her animals in environments in such a way that they look like part of the ecosystem, rather than obviously being the centre of attention. The book quotes Dale Russell as saying that Kish creates "images of landscapes [palaeontologists] can never see".
This Daspletosaurus (shown scaring off a champsosaur) does have a notably peculiar head - it's a bit of a shrink-wrapped skull with huge eyes. Still, I wouldn't mind having this painting on my wall - just drink in that lush scenery.
Finally, here's a particularly bleak scene from Kish entitled Chasmosaurus, with the titular ceratopsian's corpse being picked over by two small maniraptoran theropods (it's difficult to tell whether they are dromaeosaurs or troodonts, although they are probably the former). Apart from being naked (of course), the theropods do look very, very skinny, although one could argue that, given the context of the scene, perhaps they are starving. The weird, pointy protuberance of the pubic bones seems to be something common to Kish's dinosaurs. Still, this is a highly evocative and desolate scene. In the book it's included in the chapter on the K/Pg extinction event. Of course the painting could not be set at that time, but rather about ten million years before, given that Chasmosaurus is known from the Dinosaur Park Formation.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Vintage Dinosaur Art: Ranger Rick's Dinosaur Book
Ranger Rick Magazine has been around for over 40 years, delivering nature stories with great photography and art to the children - who are, Whitney Houston taught us, the future. Trish Arnold shared some scans from 1984's Ranger Rick's Dinosaur Book with the Vintage Dinosaur Art pool at Flickr.
Eleanor M. Kish contributed this Triceratops, which nicely illustrates the now-out of favor sprawling forelimb position.
She also did this nice Hypacrosaurus, a good illustration of cryptic coloring in a dinosaur, though it does suffer from "noodle neck" syndrome, a common occurance in old representations of hadrosaurs.
Kish has several dinosaur titles to her credit, but very little work online. Hopefully I'll come across one of them so I can give her an entry of her own.
Here's an Archaeopteryx by John Gurche, whose giant Sue painting at the Field Museum is one of my favorite Tyrannosaurus paintings. In the photo comments, Trish makes note of the fact that this dude looks exactly like a bird with a lizard head.
Mark Hallett, interviewed this week at Archosaur Musings, did this wonderful painting of a group of pesky mammals congregating at a ceratopsian skull as the Paleogene began.
Rodents, marsupials, carnivores. Wondering what the heck they're going to do with the place now that they have it to themselves.
Eleanor M. Kish contributed this Triceratops, which nicely illustrates the now-out of favor sprawling forelimb position.
She also did this nice Hypacrosaurus, a good illustration of cryptic coloring in a dinosaur, though it does suffer from "noodle neck" syndrome, a common occurance in old representations of hadrosaurs.
Kish has several dinosaur titles to her credit, but very little work online. Hopefully I'll come across one of them so I can give her an entry of her own.
Here's an Archaeopteryx by John Gurche, whose giant Sue painting at the Field Museum is one of my favorite Tyrannosaurus paintings. In the photo comments, Trish makes note of the fact that this dude looks exactly like a bird with a lizard head.
Mark Hallett, interviewed this week at Archosaur Musings, did this wonderful painting of a group of pesky mammals congregating at a ceratopsian skull as the Paleogene began.
Rodents, marsupials, carnivores. Wondering what the heck they're going to do with the place now that they have it to themselves.
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