REVIEW
The Unfeathered Bird – Katrina Van Grouw
This book is not an anatomy of birds, states the first line
of the introduction to The Unfeathered Bird, by Katrina Van Grouw. What is it then? It is a beautifully
illustrated book dealing with ornithology or it is a gracefully annotated
picture book. In fact it’s both; a convergence of art and science – the science
is authoritative and expressive; complex structures, forms and functions are
revealed and explained by the author who is familiar and comfortable with the
technical detail of anatomy.
The way that birds move, and especially fly, takes a great
deal of explaining (and reciprocal understanding). In this book complicated mechanical processes
are described in eloquent prose, at every step supplemented by perfectly
rendered illustrations. The book is produced beautifully on superb quality
paper which is a joy to handle.
There is a distinct flavour to the artwork, classically
crafted and hauntingly reminiscent of Gothic images – there will be the
inevitable comparisons with these drawings and those of the great historical
masters, and deservedly so. But Van
Grouw looks to emulate no-one; she draws in her own way – exquisitely! For over two decades she has worked
predominantly in subdued and low-key hues, painting with charcoals and other
muted media, toiling away at her craft.
The works in this fascinating book are the culmination of this extensive
and highly successful career. Van
Grouw’s use of monochrome or, occasionally slightly tinted drawings with highlighted
areas, brings a sombre feel to the artwork – a respectful solemnity for the
extinguished lives of the birds being depicted. And she handles the media with
expert precision and dexterity.
The technical aspects of the book are softened and accessible. The book follows a systematic order and
threads of convergent evolution are woven seamlessly into the story of the
birds.
There’s a fascinating and curious paradox in the way the
birds are displayed on the page. There
is (of course) no doubt that these specimens have been stripped of all semblance
of life; many are presented as skeletons, some still have musculature in place
- yet it is the skill of the artist that the subjects are decidedly more
vibrant than many conventionally realist paintings of fully-feathered birds. The
artist’s decision to re-create lifelike poses for her subjects removes any
stuffiness in the compositions. One piece in particular (the Eurasian
sparrowhawk with its blue tit prey) illustrates this dichotomy; the attacker’s
posture brimming with latent activity whilst the dead skeletal blue tit could
not be more lifeless! The character of
birds is expressed deftly – a glance at the parrots leaves us in no doubt as to
their captivating personalities. The
underwater view of the red-throated diver is an exceptionally elegant piece of
work, incorporating the underside of floating lily-pads and a tiny fish
skimming along the (inferred) water surface.
The most striking and enjoyable aspect to The Unfeathered
Bird is the way the text works with the images.
Often visual artists – usually reliant on creating images as our primary
mode of communication, often fail to achieve a similar level of quality with
our written efforts. Not so in this case.
Rarely does a book combine written and visual content so
completely. Prose comes just as readily
to this author as the images do to her as the artist; and all combined in one
sumptuous offering. The passages are a
delight to read and would stand up well with even the most rudimentary of illumination;
when fortified by drawing of such sublime quality the result is astonishing.
The writing has moments of wit and pathos, whilst underpinning this is a
dialogue full of chatty authority. The
balance is perfect and I found myself flicking between images and prose
subconsciously; a wonderful interplay of balancing counterpoints.
The author reminds us of historical follies and
aberrations. The hunting and collecting trade
gets a mention and there is a moment of pure brutality; “. . . notice the violence
sustained at the back of the skull where the bird was bludgeoned to death.” There are no prizes for guessing the species
being described here, although sadly, it could be one of many.
A day watching fully-feathered birds in the field rarely
disappoints, nor fails to surprise; this book of unfeathered birds is no
different in this respect. For instance;
did you know that hornbills wear make-up? . . . or that toucans are likely to tire
and drown if they attempt to fly over watercourses just a teensy-bit too wide?
Crammed with information, regularly poetic and often
poignant, insightful, illuminative and educational; no doubt, yet it is the
drawings which make this publication the stand-out, stand-alone volume that it
is, and which will ultimately and absolutely make this book the seminal work it
seems destined to be. Ranging from
diagrammatic illustrations to richly-textured interpretative observations, each
is executed with clinical assuredness and delicate sensitivity. The enjoyment of this book is easy, but to
allow it to reveal the full depth of its rich textures, acute literary and
artistic meaning will give the owner many years of pure pleasure.
As Van Grouw defiantly states in her introduction; “This book
is not an anatomy of birds”. However,
yet incidentally, it is. But it is more
than that. It reveals aspects of
birdlife which would remain hidden to most of us; it weaves tales of
ornithological endeavours and vandalisms and, at its heart, connects art with
science and history. And in a manner
which tantalises and delights in a way only the great works of art can.
This is the quintessential labour of love; over 25 years in
the conception, drawing and writing. It
is a genuine life-work and will surely earn itself and its author a merited
place in the history of the Art of the Natural World.
Tim Wootton
The Unfeathered Bird is published by Princeton University
Press – ISBN978-0-691-15134-2
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
