Robert Marbury’s glossy book Taxidermy Art is a feast for the eyes that will appeal to taxidermy aficionados and plucky newcomers alike. I picked it up at my local oddities shop, intrigued by the bright coral cover that clashed with the dark nature of the artwork inside. This superficial contrast illuminates what Taxidermy Art is about: fusing unlikely elements together to create whimsical, grotesque, or elegant works of art.
This is not your typical taxidermy book. Published at the end of last year, Taxidermy Art forgoes the stoic gloominess associated with traditional taxidermy, and instead profiles some of the most prominent modern artists who practice Rogue Taxidermy: “a genre of pop-surrealist art characterized by mixed-media sculptures containing traditional taxidermy materials used in an unconventional manner.”
Marbury is a founder, along with artists Sarina Brewer and Scott Bibus, of the Minnesota Association of Rogue Taxidermists (MART). It is this organization that first coined the term “Rogue Taxidermy.” And while it’s clear that this art genre inspires formidable uniqueness, Rogue taxidermists are united in their efforts to face mortality head-on, and in their devotion to animal ethics. Because as much as Taxidermy Art is about the uncanny ways that life intersects with death, it’s also about dispelling the misconceptions that plague modern taxidermy.
All of the artists featured in this book use ethically procured subjects. Marbury himself is a vegan taxidermist, meaning he works with stuffed animals (i.e. animals that are not real). Another misconception – the word “stuffed” is an archaic term when it comes to modern taxidermy; taxidermists don’t stuff. It results in lumpy, ill-formed creatures.
Unlike Marbury, many Rogue taxidermists work with subjects that once had life. Because of this, Marbury the Author becomes Marbury the Devoted Pallbearer, adopting a respectful – if not solemn – tone when discussing these deceased creatures. Many of them were previously road-kill. Some were nuisance animals that were legally terminated and acquired by the Rogue taxidermist. Others were discovered as butchered works of taxidermy (usually improperly mounted) that these artists have rescued and restored.
In addition to its meditation on ethics, Taxidermy Art provides a brief history of taxidermy enthusiasts throughout the ages, from Pliny the Elder to Alfred Hitchcock, before showcasing the modern artists and their work. It is interesting to note that out of the 23 Rogue taxidermists profiled, 13 are women. This is a modern phenomenon; in the historical taxidermy canon, female taxidermists are few, as taxidermy was primarily a man’s hobby. But today, many modern taxidermists are females, Rogue or not.
One of the most intriguing female artists featured in this book is Kate Clark, based in Brooklyn, N.Y. Her creations can be deeply unsettling, at first glance: Marbury reveals that it is not uncommon for people to arrive at Clark’s gallery only to leave upon seeing such alarming creatures. However, the brave ones usually return after their initial shock has worn away.
Other artists remain truer to the animal’s original form, such as Julia deVille. Unlike Kate Clark, it is not deVille’s manipulation of the animal’s hide or natural disposition that is so striking, but the way she frequently adorns her creatures with jewels or fine pieces of clothing, something that elevates them into regal, even religious, works of art. This elevation, says Marbury, serves to “celebrate the unexpected beauty in death.”
This is precisely what Rogue taxidermists do so well.
