Lysimachos Polychronidis
Abstract
When one looks at taxidermy, not simply just as a technical process of conserving animal form but more as a conceptual tool to view and connect to the natural/animal world, one can get easily confused. The deeper one delves into the study of this craft’s origins and characteristics, as well as to the motivations, objectives and purposes hidden behind it, the more one comes to realize that taxidermy is definitely a more complicated subject than previously thought. As a practice it exists within a very specific worldview and is strongly interlinked with a vast array of concepts. One cannot seriously talk about taxidermy without making reference to a long list of subjects that include -but are not limited to-life, death, limits, surface, preservation, water, time, hunting, collections, decomposition, Christianity, trophies, colonialism, vision, museums etc. One could go as far as to convincingly argue that taxidermy -in its traditional manifestation- is in essence nothing more than a vessel for vanity and superficiality.
The matter of surface is of paramount importance when examining taxidermy as a concept. Vision is the main sensory system in humans: more than 40% of the sensory connections in the cortex of the brain belong to this system, a fact that proves that we assess the elements of our environment mainly through visual stimuli. The visual stimulus relies in nothing more than the reflection of light on a surface and as such it cannot penetrate and see behind it. This is something that can easily fool or lead to false conclusions about the content of what is being seen. A taxidermy specimen, especially one that is so well-made as to look alive (and thus real), is a good example of this potential confusion.
Walking into a natural history museum – the principal place to come in contact with taxidermy animals- we will sooner or later stand in front of one of them. A label will inform us that what we see -most probably through a separating glass- is a wolf, or a bear, or a flamingo. This couldn’t be further away from the truth. In reality what exists behind the glass is neither a wolf, nor a bear, nor a flamingo. It is a representation of either one of them. This is a critical distinction to be made, albeit one that is poorly addressed, if at all. Ideally it shouldn’t be that hard for the viewer to not only realize that a real wolf, a real bear, or a real flamingo could never fit inside a narrow vitrine and stand motionless for his viewing pleasure, but also why. Animals are not just their surface. They are their unique smells, the sounds they emit, their complex relationships with other beings, the ways they inhabit their environments, the dangers that they face. Their oversimplified taxidermy mounted representations contain nothing of the sort. And although natural history museums pertain to an educational value, it seems that -to quote Lewis Carroll- they are places “where things are not as they should be”.