Pterrible Courier

Pterrible Courier. Sepia ink, sepia powder, white Conté and gouache on recycled paper, 112 x 178mm.

Pterosaurs make terrible couriers. Especially of food parcels.

This is the context in which this drawing originated. I'm hard-pressed to refrain from making another self-deprecatory remark about its silliness, but I had been persuaded to share this on the grounds that pterosaurs figure so rarely among my work (thereby passing the buck altogether). I also realised rather too late how much this resembles the arm-munching T. rex in action and posture. I hope you won't upbraid.


N.

The Thecodontosaurus that Didn't

This was originally conceived around this time last year as my entry for Bristol Dinosaur Project's Thecodontosaurus Illustration Competition. Sadly (though perhaps predictably), I failed to make the competition deadline.

Thecodontosaurus (with sphenodont). Sepia ink on Saunders Waterford hot pressed watercolour paper; 150 x 280mm. I've decided that her name is 'Thesis'. Yes.

Details. Unfortunately, this illustration suffers somewhat from reduction, though it seems to withstand considerable enlargement. Opening the images in a new tab is recommended for best viewing.

My many thanks to Jon Tennant of Green Tea and Velociraptors for very kindly supplying me with the Thecodontosaurus paper (Adam M. Yates (2003)) and Dr. Heinrich Mallison of Dinosaurpalaeo for his input during the progress. I still didn't get the tail quite right, and it is on the whole considerably leaner than I would restore it now. Though as I said at the time: 'I felt like quite the grown-up palaeo artist'.

In the event, Fabio Pastori won the first prize in the professional category with his piece. Though it looks curiously as though his was the only entry in the category, judging by the gallery of entrants and winners; but please do correct me if anybody knows otherwise. Still, I should not have minded coming second to him. Ahem.  

----------

In an attempt to present a little more of my 'serious' palaeoart -- I mean, palaeontography -- to LITC readers, this entry has been re-posted, slightly amended, from Himmapaanensis, with our great Solomon's sanction (if you miss this joke, why then, you haven't been paying attention, for shame). The mercenary part: prints of this illustration are available. Help a fading little Djinn continue producing its meagre magic. I shall be enormously grateful.

N

Conway, Kosemen, and Naish Discuss All Yesterdays

C.M. Kosemen has uploaded videos from the Friday, December 7 launch event for All Yesterdays: Unique and Speculative Views of Dinosaurs and Other Prehistoric Animals to his Youtube channel.

First, Darren Naish introduces the book and the thinking behind it.



John Conway discusses his artistic process and rationale for his speculations.



And Kosemen chimes in as well, talking about "lenses of distortion."



Great to see what Marc, Niroot, and the rest of the rabble got to enjoy at the launch event.

The Paleoartistic Kaleidoscope of All Yesterdays

John Conway's Allosaurus and Camptosaurus, from the new book All Yesterdays.

This has been a wonderful year for Mesozoic publishing ventures. Paleontology enthusiasts are being treated to Dinosaur Art, the new edition of The Complete Dinosaur, the recently-published Field Guide of Mesozoic Birds by Matt Martyniuk, and of course, the collaboration between Darren Naish, John Conway, and C.M. Kosemen, All Yesterdays, featuring a meaty introduction from Naish and vital support from skeletal diagram master Scott Hartman. The team, web veterans all, have done a fine job of spreading the word, and reviews have sprung up across the web. It is available in ebook and print editions.

We've begun covering the book here, thanks to Marc and Niroot's attendance of last week's book launch event, and there is so much meat on this bone that we're not limiting ourselves to a single review. I'll kick things off by putting the book in context based on my personal experience. I plan on also writing from my perspective as an illustrator, though one who does not present my subjects in anything resembling a technical light. That will be a post for another day.

Reviews that have hit the web so far have been overwhelmingly positive, with notable pieces by Mark Witton, Emily Willoughby, Andrea Cau, Mike Taylor, and Brian Switek.

For readers unfamiliar with All Yesterdays, here's the skinny: in the face of the woeful lack of material the fossil record preserves, the intriguing glimpses into integument we've gained since the '80s, and the incredible diversity of soft tissue adornments and behaviors among extant animals, many of our artistic reconstructions of prehistoric animals may be far too conservative. Half of the book is dedicated to Conway and Kosemen's evidence-based speculations of Mesozoic fauna, with a second half devoted to showing what reconstructions of extant animals might look like if some future paleoartist took a too-conservative, skeleton-only approach.

Instead of being presented as a bold declaration of war on the establishment, Conway, Kosemen, and Naish see the book as rising out of a movement in paleontological illustration which has been building for a while (a point also made by Andrea Cau in his post linked above). This "All Yesterdays movement" (which I'll abbreviate AYM here) may not be the sole creation of these authors, but I think it's fair to say they they are its most important voices, if only for having the nerve to put the ideas to print (and e-print). To fully understand AYM, All Yesterdays is essential reading.

When I took part in the ScienceOnline 2011 panel discussion on science-art, I used Brian Engh's Sauroposeidon as an example of what has become the AYM. Sharing a work-in-progress of an illustration of the sauropod bearing a speculative display sac on its neck, with SV-POW blogger and sauropod expert Dr. Matt Wedel, Engh received this advice:

I think it rocks. But not nearly enough. Look up some pictures of prairie chickens, hooded seals, singing frogs, and everything else with inflatable display sacs. They don’t look like they just swallowed a stick of Mentos–they look like freeze-frames from half a millisecond after the the detonation of that bomb they swallowed. Real display sacs are so big and so colorful that no other animal could possibly mistake them for anything else. Therefore if you want to draw speculative display sacs they must be so big and colorful that none of the people who see the piece could possibly mistake them for anything else.

For Engh, this was a green light; he writes of having had a nagging feeling before consulting with Dr. Wedel.

When I look at illustrations of dinosaurs, even very technically good ones, I’m often left with the uneasy feeling that it just doesn’t ‘feel’ like a real animal. Its as if only two simple layers have been added to the still-recognizable skeleton – while living vertebrates often look nothing like their skeletons...

It's no secret that I am a devout admirer of Conway's work, and am thrilled to now have it in two different volumes - in print with Dinosaur Art, and the Kindle version of All Yesterdays. I'm also happy to have Kosemen's work; the two artists compliment each other by being as daring stylistically as they are in their anatomy. If only as a way to have this art available as a conversation piece, it would warrant a recommendation. It's the richness of the explanatory text which couches the restorations which makes it essential, for here the speculation is put into context, and there will likely be new information to even knowledgable readers; I was pleasantly surprised to learn about the shoulder joints and humeri of abelisaurs such as Carnotaurus, which allowed for much more range of motion than was possible in most large theropods. Both Conway and Kosemen take advantage of this to depict Carnotaurus in unique display postures. In other places, they write about the bizarre behaviors witnessed in extant animals, and the possibilities they may open up in dinosaurs, perhaps most outrageously in a pair of Morrison herbivores.

C.M. Kosemen's randy Stegosaurus and rather alarmed Haplocanthosaurus.

A more speculative approach to paleoart is a precarious enterprise, and All Yesterdays makes clear that speculation should be grounded in what has been observed in the natural world. As Naish writes in his introduction, "Science and speculation are happy bedfellows, so long as we remain grounded in our speculations, and so long as we state the core evidence we have in the first place." I see no reason to fear such speculation. Granted, it has the ability to drive us up the wall; just see the reaction to any given televised documentary. But one of the promising possibilities AYM presents is what could happen if other media truly embrace the approach. Imagine a documentary which does not present paleontological theory in narratives, as in Walking With Dinosaurs or its spin-offs. Instead, it could present a whole set of hypotheses and reconstructions, flipping the traditional script of talking heads serving the needs of narrative. Instead, narrative and reconstructions would demonstrate the living process of paleontological science, multiple hypotheses presented with their strengths and weaknesses in kaleidoscopic variety. Viewers would see science being done instead of stories which grant certain hypotheses, some tenuously supported in the paleontological community, the weight of fact.

I see AYM as an essentially modern phenomenon. Facilitating contact between illustrators, researchers, writers, and paleontologists around the world, the web has allowed a call-and-response culture in which one artist, blogger, or scientist can propose something and set off a chain of works and writings inspired by it; browsing work on the paleo-hotbed of deviantArt reveals a culture of constructive criticism and an iterative approach to reconstruction. An artist need not be isolated in his or her studio, referring only to literature and a limited number of advisors; conversations in cyberspace and the mutability of digital artistic processes allow for flexibility and fearlessness. All Yesterdays and the global constellation of artists who make up AYM have taken a bold step forward. It is a true paradigm shift. It will leave plenty of practitioners cold, as paradigm shifts must. But count me among those thrilled to live during this era of paleontological restoration, excited by the possibilities and eager for the conversation to continue.

Interview: Paul Heaston

Monolophosaurus by Paul Heaston

Another artist whose work delights me every time a new piece is posted, Paul Heaston recently garnered some notice for his Deinonychus sculpture, produced for his employer, Dinosaur-Quest in San Antonio, TX. He's now moved to Denver, but has not left dinosaurs behind. We can all be thankful for that; while Paul plays across media, employing, graphite, ink, oil paint, digital modeling, and sculpture, his style is unmistakably his own.

What is your background? When did you first get into serious reconstructions of ancient life?

My artistic background is in figurative painting and portraiture, which is how I got my MFA at Montana State University. When I left grad school I started doing architectural sketching and drawing. I used to love drawing dinosaurs as a kid, inspired first by Bakker and then by Greg Paul, with the other inescapable and ubiquitous '80s and '90s influences of Hallett, Henderson and Sibbick. My art was basically a bunch of terrible copies of Greg Paul-style work. Midway through high school though, my interest had kind of reached its apogee and competing interests took over. I don't think I can say paleontology was ever my biggest passion, and the same is true now, but I still love it.

I got back into dinosaurs when I got a job as a guide for Dinosaur-Quest, a small private dinosaur exhibit in a mall in San Antonio, Texas. At first I thought it would be a part time gig explaining the differences between meat-eaters and plant-eaters and explaining extinction theories and bird evolution to little kids. In no time though I had renewed my interest in dinosaurs, gotten caught up on new events, and became assistant manager, revising information at the exhibit and designing new displays. That's when I started doing paleo-art again. I would be the first to admit my reconstructions are far from rigorous. I prefer to work with skeletal drawings and measurements around if I can (and always do for any commercial projects), but some of my sketches are done for fun without any references handy at all. I know that's profane for some paleo-art enthusiasts, but sometimes I get an idea and I just have to draw. I feel like my experiences making other kinds of art over the years sometimes make it hard to notice the inaccuracies in my paleo-art, which is fine by me. A little confidence in execution can help you get away with a lot of otherwise glaring errors ;)

Do you think you'd like to tackle a big scientific illustration project?

Funny you should mention that. I may have the chance to tackle a legitimate scientific illustration project soon here in Denver, if I get it. I feel like I would love the challenge of something more rigorous and deliberate. I don't feel like I have really applied myself to a truly rigorous project. Even with the Deinonychus sculpture, I was wrestling with the technical challenges of a new medium and had to weigh practical decisions against my desire for accuracy. Of course, I also used my medium of choice for any paleo art yet, which is oil paint.


Tyrannosaurus by Paul Heaston


Dilophosaurus by Paul Heaston


Mamenchisaurus by Paul Heaston


Stegosaurus by Paul Heaston


Styracosaurus by Paul Heaston

Do you find that your experience with architectural drawing informs your dinosaurs at all? One thing I love about viewing mounts is looking at all of the nearly-invisible structure that holds it all together.

I hadn't thought of that before, but that's gotta be true. One thing I definitely consider now is the way the mass sits on the frame, and shifts in different positions. Something I probably never considered doing profile after profile back in my Greg Paul days. I think a better knowledge of perspective has helped in figuring out issues of foreshortening as well, though sometimes profiles are irresistible.


Close up of Deinonychus, sculpted by Paul Heaston


Paul poses with his completedDeinonychus

I'd like to hear more about your Deinonychus sculpture. How did the project come about?

The Deinonychus sculpture was my boss Xavier's idea. He sent me a link to a guy who had sculpted a JP-style T. rex head out of styrofoam, and since I'm a smartass I told him I could do that easily, even though I'd never really done an organic sculpture before. We had been thinking about upgrading the exhibit (which was all skeletons and skulls) with a model/diorama or even leasing a dreaded animatronic dino. My boss asked me to figure out how feasible it would be to actually build a full-scale dinosaur out of foam, so that's how it started. We though about T. rex, but the one thing our exhibit didn't really have was a "raptor," which all the kids and adults asked about all the time. I thought it would also be a good time to shock them a bit and show them something with feathers. The whole thing is made from blue insulation foam covered in plaster cloth, with polymer and epoxy clay used for teeth, claws and scales. I ordered rooster hackle from a farm in California (most commercial craft feather dealers had pretty lousy selections) and they were by far the most expensive single element that went into the sculpture. It's far from perfect, and I had to rush to the finish line when I found out we were moving to Denver, so there are some things I would change, but for my first sculpture, it could be worse.

Did the process of sculpting Deinonychus offer any new revelations about their anatomy to you?

You know, going by Ostrom's published measurements, I realized even Deinonychus, a fairly large dromaeosaur, is pretty small. Working in three dimensions presents you with problems you don't often encounter drawing or painting. You have to think about the shape of the inside of the mouth, how deep the nostrils go, etc. You're responsible for every scale and feather, whereas you only have to "suggest" them in a drawing. I would love to be able to build around a skeletal cast next time and see what happens.

At your gig with Dinosaur-Quest, did you ever find yourself getting burnt out on dinosaurs?

As a guide there I would find myself repeating basic information over and over, but it's always someone new getting a chance to hear about dinosaurs, so it never got too boring. And of course, the kids are always sharper than the adults and ask the best questions, so I'd have a bunch of things to look up at the end of the day. If I got burned out on anything, it was the obsession the everybody has with T. rex and "raptors". I love those dinosaurs as much as anyone, but you'd hope people were more curious about other dinosaurs, too. Kids and adults would often identify our mounts of Torvosaurus, Yangchuanosaurus and Saurophaganax as "T. rexes" and any small theropods (and even our Thescelosaurus) as "raptors" despite our labels, such is the dominance they have in the world of popular culture.


One of Paul's sketch pages, a Gomphotherium mount at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science


Another of Paul's sketch pages from the Denver Museum of Nature and Science

You share a lot of sketch pages, including some wonderful work from fossil mounts. How fast do you work? Is it easy for you to work in public?

Every artist has to have a hopeless compulsion, and my location sketching is mine. Since grad school, I've filled dozens of pocket-size Moleskine sketchbooks. My one rule is that I only draw from direct observation, not from photos or my imagination. I have other sketchbooks for that. I love sketching in public, and depending on the situation (or availability of a comfortable seat) I can sketch really quickly or much more deliberately. In recent years I've had to stop sketching at restaurants so I can pay attention to the people I'm with. In museums I generally sketch standing up, so quicker is better. 5-10 minutes is the average amount of time I spend on a small sketch of a fossil or exhibit. I'm not too shy about it (which probably comes from 2 seasons drawing caricatures at Six Flags a long, long time ago) and I love when kids ask me about it.

Besides the greats who influenced you when you were younger, whose work do you enjoy today?

There are so many good artists, It's hard to keep up! Of the people who claim to just "fiddle around" like I do, I think Niroot Puttapipat is up there with every "established" paleoartist, but your readers already knew that. I find that I prefer artists who make other art besides dinosaurs. Working in a vacuum is so debilitating, and having a more well-rounded background in drawing and painting (and sculpting) and understanding the elements and principles of design is crucial. I also love artists with different takes on things we think we know. I love John Conway's art. His point of view is just so fresh. Julio Lacerda and Andrey Atuchin (Karkajou1993 and Olorotitan respectively on DeviantArt) and Stephanie Abramowicz are fantastic digital artists. Frederik Spindler's stuff is cool and weird. Same with Alexey Monzhaley (Monopteryx on DeviantArt). A.J. Trahan and M.C. Barrett are people from the concept-art industry who do amazing feathered dinos. There's too many others I can't remember right now. I'd like to be where they all are at some point.

* * * *

Thanks to Paul for doing this interview and allowing me to share more of his work here. Keep up with him at his website, Flickr, and DeviantArt. All images shared with Paul's permission.