It may be surprising to us now, but the taxidermists who filled the museums, zoos, and aquaria of the twentieth century were also among the first to become aware of the devastating effects of careless human interaction with the natural world.
Witnessing firsthand the decimation caused by hide hunters, commercial feather collectors, whalers, big game hunters, and poachers, these museum taxidermists recognized the existential threat to critically endangered species and the urgent need to protect them. The compelling exhibits they created—as well as the scientific field work, popular writing, and lobbying they undertook—established a vital leadership role in the early conservation movement for American museums that persists to this day.
Through their individual research expeditions and collective efforts to arouse demand for environmental protections, this remarkable cohort—including William T. Hornaday, Carl E. Akeley, and several lesser-known colleagues—created our popular understanding of the animal world and its fragile habitats. For generations of museum visitors, they turned the glass of an exhibition case into a window on nature—and a mirror in which to reflect on our responsibility for its conservation.
A rather dry account of the history of professional taxidermy, specifically as practiced at natural history museums in America. Interestingly but also unsurprisingly almost all the successful practitioners apprenticed at the same establishment by a man named Ward in the mid 1800s in New York. Among them was William Hornaday, a prominent figure worthy of a separate biographical treatment. The man's sheer devotion to the art of preserving and stuffing animals into naturalistic poses was impressive, often braving the harshest outdoor conditions to do so. The other persona of note was Carl Akeley, whom I've read about in another book. This was another Hemingway character who accompanied Roosevelt on his famous African safari.
While it was fascinating to read about such larger than life people, the majority of the book was merely bland historical account of how so and so got to this and that museum, the displays they put up in annual exhibitions held by the society of taxidermists, etc. There was some discussion of how some of them grew to advance the cause of wildlife conservation through their experience in collecting specimens (like Hornaday). I ended up skimming through huge sections, and would not recommend this book unless you happen to be into the practice of taxidermy, not even if you enjoy just looking at static displays of animals.
This book caught my eye at the library based on the title/subtitle because I find the dioramas at the museum of natural history to be so awesome and educational, frankly more so than zoos!
I’m not a history buff, so I found some of the details in this book to be a bit excessive. This book reads more like a phenomenal piece of academic work rather than popular science book.
While there are pictures, I wish there had been more since the book references so many taxidermy pieces and exhibits in particular. It would have also been cool to include pictures of the pieces that still exist in museums today.
I also wish there had been a glossary for some of the terms used. I found myself having to Google quite a bit since I’m not too familiar with zoology/biology.
Overall, I’m glad I read this book as it made me realize how important bringing things to “life” is for conservation awareness. I just wish it had been a bit more accessible.