Vintage Dinosaur Art: Predatory Dinosaurs of the World - Part 3

Who asked for one more round of Predatory Dinosaurs of the World? No? Well you're getting it anyway. If it's any consolation, you might not have expected to see Dimetrodon and Eryops showing up in a book with such a title, and yet here they are. Pesky Dimetrodon, always sticking its giant fin in where it isn't welcome.

Naturally, these Permian beasties appear in a section providing the background and overall evolutionary history of theropod dinosaurs, a chapter replete with wonderful illustrations like this one. It's intriguing to see Greg Paul take on animals other than the ones we're used to seeing, and the results are predictably very lean-looking, although it's lovely to see Dimetrodon being so energetic (and definitely not marking its territory, no matter what Thomas Diehl might think over on the Fezbooks). This is also a notably richly illustrated Permian scene, with an assortment of fauna swarming over an imposing forest - as opposed to a blasted sand dune with a few generic fronds scattered here and there.

Many readers will recognise the above piece from Paul's 2010 Field Guide to Dinosaurs (second edition coming soon!). Aside from the forelimbs, it's aged rather well - Paul's style probably suits Coelophysis more than any other dinosaur (after all, it's an animal that has literally been rendered as pair of rubber-coated pipe cleaners before). Note both the Bakkerian neck plumes and mixture of 'robust' and 'gracile' morphs. It remains an exciting and energetic piece, as a marauding gang of unnervingly gangly, long-necked theropods round a bend to confront the viewer.

On to the Jurassic, and a reclining Allosaurus (Mark Witton would approve) watches Camarasaurus, Diplodocus and Stegosaurus around a watering hole. This piece is all the more effective for presenting the scene from a human's eye view, as if Paul drew it from life (which Mark notes is a very effective palaeoart technique in Rec-a-Rep). It's nicely composed, with a good variety of animal life on show (there's more than just dinosaurs here), and the context is entirely naturalistic, recalling layabout lions eyeing giant African herbivores as they gather to drink. If there's one bothersome aspect of this, it was what Niroot pointed out to me - namely, that the way the Diplodocus' tails pivot up into the air is a little strange. They're on a slope, sure, but why does the tail stick  up to oppose the head and neck, like a see-saw? Wouldn't it just stick out behind, given that they have a solid quadrupedal base to stand on? Nitpicking, though - this is a fantastic piece, one of the best in the book.

As the Late Cretaceous draws in, so we are treated to rampaging tyrannosaurs making a nuisance of themselves. Again, we have a wonderful mix of herbivore behaviours. The less well-defended hadrosaurs Kritosaurus and Hypacrosaurus scatter to the left, dodging Edmontonia (just visible on the scan) which is notably less concerned. Meanwhile, the ceratopsians Chasmosaurus and Centrosaurus act like belligerent, overgrown bovids, confronting the threat and brandishing their horns. It'd be a foolish Daspletosaurus that took on such a foe. Such well considered, exciting pieces like this demonstrate why Greg Paul still deservers a place at palaeoart's top table.

Interestingly, the huge pterosaurs shown here are Quetzalcoatlus, and they're much closer to their 'modern' look than many other artists managed at the time (most of whom were, admittedly, busy copying Sibbick's nubbin-headed beast). They share the sky with modern-looking birds.

There's some other cool stuff which I haven't featured yet that doesn't appear in the aforementioned chapter (A History of Predatory Dinosaur Success and Failure, and of their Avian Descendants, should you have been wondering), so I'm going to tack it on artlessly here. Here, the frankly quite bonkers-looking Mamenchisaurus hochuanensis is confronted by Yangchuanosaurus shangyouensis, which Paul lumps into Metriacanthosaurus for some reason. One of the allosaurs has sliced some flesh from the sauropod's thigh. Intentionally or not, the two tiny pterosaurs flying past the sauropod's neck are reminiscent of old palaeoart pieces, where they were used for scale - in particular, Zallinger's The Age of Reptiles mural.

Having said that, Paul is very keen on busting old palaeoart tropes where appropriate. In Paul's own words,

"Far from trying to escape into water for safety, herbivorous dinosaurs were in dire danger if caught by packs of swimming theropods, as is the case with this Apatosaurus louisae, surrounded by Allosaurus atrox [probably just A. fragilis]."

It's a classic cutaway that's been imitated many times since. Judging by the signature, it was originally drawn in 1980. One can easily imagine how revolutionary it must have seemed at that time.

When not bandying iffy taxonomy and confusing terminology about ('brontosaur' as an alternative term to 'sauropod', as opposed to referring to a particular type of sauropod? Huh?), Paul was often far ahead of everyone else in terms of the quality of his reconstructions. Anomalous vestigial finger aside, his Baryonyx (above) is much better than many others at the time, some of which sported piratical appendages on the end of their arms.

I'm sure I've said previously that I'm so very happy that ornithomimosaurs were found to have had a feathery covering. They just make so much more sense with one. Once the more jobbing dino illustrators catch on, and once tight-arse publishers stop reprinting crudely modified Sibbick illustrations from the Normanpedia (31 years young!), we'll finally be rid of the creeptastic, tiny-handed, stilt-legged, prune-skinned monstrosities of the '80s and '90s once and for all. Of course, Greg Paul got there first. GSP was right! Tell the children!

...Except, of course, he wasn't always. I'll leave you with this charming skeletal diagram, depicting a composite therizinosaur transformed into Plateosaurus-meets-Edward Scissorhands. Why would I finish a celebration of Paul's triumphs with this unfortunate guess-too-far? Because I am, in the end, a right bastard.

Next time: life-size fibreglass dinosaurs return to LITC, with guest star Dave Hone (for it is he)! Oh, yes.

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Predatory Dinosaurs of the World - Part 2

It's back - Greg Paul's 1988 magnum opus, Predatory Dinosaurs of the World. As we established in the first post, it's long deserved its prime position in the Palaeoart Hall of Fame, having been not only highly prescient but also hugely influential on almost everyone interested in reconstructing Mesozoic theropods. It was stuffed with the sort of truly fantastic and uniquely observed artwork you just didn't see anywhere else - theropods fighting ritualistically, having a nap, and gathering in family groups around a carcass.

Really, I've just included the above piece (featuring Allosaurus) because it's really, really cool. The animals (for all their dated, pronated forearms) remain incredibly convincing, the result of not only Paul's meticulous attention to anatomical detail, but his equally careful and intricate approach to scalation and skin texture. This is also a beautiful portrayal of everyday dinosaur life, placing the viewer right in the midst of this allosaur gathering, eye-to-eye with one of the beasts. It's hugely evocative and endlessly fascinating to look at.

Not that I don't appreciate a more typical hunting scene, of course. Here, Gorgosaurus confronts Styracosaurus (or should that be Albertosaurus and...hnngghh...Monoclonius). Based on the multiple dates, this would appear to be an earlier piece that has been reworked for the book - a commendably brave practice on Paul's part. No backup copies here...

There has been much discussion recently on the subject of theropod 'lips'. In the last couple of decades, it seems that most reconstructions of theropods (especially large ones) have depicted them with their upper teeth visible when the mouth is closed. However, most reconstructions prior to that gave the animals lizardy 'lips' that completely concealed the teeth, an idea that has recently become popular again. It's lead people to wonder - who popularised the 'overhanging teeth' look? The Jurassic Park T. rex can surely shoulder a lot of the blame, although it was the only creature to sport such a look in a film full of 'lippy' dinosaurs. PDW makes things clearer - Paul advocates 'lips', but his tyrannosaurs still have protruding teeth (as above). It seems likely that the JP Rexy was influenced by Paul in this respect, leading to the proliferation of goofy-toothed theropods in artwork. (Incidentally, Paul would appear to have since become an advocate of full 'lips' on tyrannosaurs, too.)

Given that so many Paulian palaeoart memes are now being rejected as outdated, it's amusing to consider that, where he was most ahead of his time, contemporary artists failed (or refused) to follow. As a kid, I saw plenty of images of a scaly Compsognathus chasing after Archaeopteryx, but never a fuzzy version. Of course, Compsognathus is far from the only small coelurosaur to receive this treatment...

...for here is Ornitholestes, resplendent in spotted black plumage. While John McLoughlin had drawn a fuzzy Ornitholestes nine years earlier, this illustration is still hugely prescient for 1988. Even in Walking With Dinosaurs (1999), Ornitholetes is depicted as a scaly creature with quills only on the back of its neck. Equally unusual in this illustration is the depiction of the animal climbing a tree, Paul's point being that a great many small theropods would probably have had no trouble clambering around in branches had the occasion called for it (pertinent in the context of the origins of avian flight). Even given the impossi-hands in the illustration, it's an intriguing thought, and the arboreality of various theropod lineages continues to be hotly contested in the literature and elsewhere.

Never mind the nose horn.

In a comment on my previous post on PDW, Herman D asked if I could upload a scan of Paul's Deinonychus chick. Well, here it is, another beautifully fluffy little theropod. Taking a cue from modern animals, Paul's raptor babies sport spotty plumage quite different from that of the adults, the better to remain inconspicuous. Just lovely.

Much as Paul's decision to apply plumage to his non-avian coelurosaurs was admirably far-sighted, he did make some peculiar decisions when depicting birds (or, theropods popularly thought of as birds. Quiet at the back). Scantily-clad phorusrhacids aside, the accurately-attached feathers on the arms of his Archaeopteryx don't seem to quite match the minimal, figure-hugging plumage on the body. That triangular wedge of a pelvis is quite alarming.

Of course, one can't fault the consistency in Paul's style - after all, his dromaeosaurs look much like this, too. However, it does highlight that, even if Paul remains one of the most important paleoartists in the history of the genre, his much-copied approach is just that - his particular approach. That's the point made in All Yesterdays, but it bears repeating. Artists can learn a great deal from Paul's anatomical rigour, but shouldn't constrain themselves to aping his popular style, as so many have done over the last 20 years. I'm sure the man himself would agree.

Then again...those eyespots on the wings! The marvellous concept of these animals resolving their disputes through ritualistic display! Sometimes, one can't help but be a Paul fanboy.

And finally...many readers will be familiar with the copious taxonomic lumping in PDW (Velociraptor antirrhopus, anyone?), but I wonder how many of you remember that Paul even found room for dinosauromorphs like Lagosuchus (above) in the book - as the earliest dinosaurs ('paleodinosaurs'). It's an idea he's abandoned since, but it remains fascinatingly unorthodox. I bet he wound everyone up with that one.

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Predatory Dinosaurs of the World - Part 1

It is widely documented - not least by this blog - that a very few popular dinosaur books published over the last century stand out as real 'landmarks'. Books that are incalculably influential, for good or ill (and often a bit of both), giving rise to countless copycats and wannabes and spreading peculiar styles and memes far and wide in the world of palaeoart. Greg Paul's infamous Predatory Dinosaurs of the World is undoubtedly one such book, arguably doing more to spread the Paulian style than any other of his works. It's so well known that, for a long time, it seemed like a bit of a waste of time covering it; surely it's already been done to protofeathered death? I'm glad I changed my mind.

In recent years, artists have been keen to move on from Paul's style, which has come to be seen as just as dated, in its own way, as the Zallingerian behemoths were in the 1970s and 80s. This still seems a little incredible to me. PDW was published in 1988, when I was less than a year old. To me, growing up with often rather Sibbickian depictions of dinosaurs, Paul's reconstructions still look like The Future. It helps, of course, that Paul was one of the first palaeoartists to be truly anatomically rigorous, making his dinosaurs immensely more convincing than almost everything else around at the time. When I was a kid, they looked like they'd descended from another planet. A particularly awesome planet. Like Bakker before him, Paul's work is often filled with a dynamism and energy that few others had dared to explore up to that point.

Take this scene, for example. Here, a group of T. rex have managed to corner a Triceratops. One of the predators sinks its teeth into the animal's thigh - a potentially crippling blow. Both animals are illustrated with remarkable fidelity, with everything from the Triceratops' frill and epocippitals to the tyrannosaurs' horny bosses and birdlike stance brought to life with the utmost precision. For 1988, they're really not that shrinkwrapped, either - both Rexy and his quarry look beefy and muscular. Other than the tyrannosaur that appears to be (properly) running on the right of the scene (and where it's obviously dated, e.g. the arms), this remains very convincing.

Running tyrannosaurs were a Bakker favourite, and in PDW Paul reckons on Rexy being at least as fast as a racehorse, but the consensus today is that this is very unlikely, given the animals' sheer size. Still, they were definitely, as Paul says, much better equipped for speed than animals of similar size today...not to mention their potential prey.

PDW is notable for Paul's illustrations of theropods engaging in all sorts of interesting behaviours, including lounging around as large predators are wont to do. In the above scene, two Daspletosaurus tussle in a mating bout, "kicking at each other like overgrown ostriches". Paul employs skilful use of perspective here, particularly around the animals' heads; although his art is often criticised as having a 'flat' look, Paul's attention to detail means that animals do not take on unsightly, undignified appearances when swivelled out of lateral view.

Now, it's at this point that I am obliged to mention Paul's ever-controversial taxonomic rejiggles, for the caption to the above piece includes the eyebrow-raising 'Tyrannosaurus torosus'. Some of Paul's lumps and splits, usually published in popular works, have been backed up later by other authors in the technical literature; Giraffatitan comes to mind. Unfortunately, given the nature of books like PDW, Paul seldom goes into a great amount of detail as to why he decides that animals should be shuffled in or out of certain genera. Early in PDW, Paul bemoans the state of dinosaur taxonomy, and therefore makes it clear that he is going to offer "a new reorganisation of predatory dinosaur taxonomy and systematics, even though the phylogenetic conclusions it is based on are not yet firm". Hence 'Tyrannosaurus torosus', 'Ornithomimus bullatus', and...that other one I'll get to in a moment. All offered quite unapologetically. You can see why some scientists might tear their hair out.

Unfortunately, this unusual taxonomy has often threatened to obscure just how much this book was ahead of its time. Not all of Paul's revisions in terms of nomenclature might have stood the test of time (and the man himself has abandoned many of them), but many of his ideas about theropod physiology and life appearance certainly have. The above Coelophysis rhodesiensis (another lump that's since gained acceptance - this is the beastie formerly known as 'Syntarsus') sports a crazy hairdo that's undoubtedly modelled on Bakker's version, but check out the other nice touches too. There are those neck wattles (which appear on a number of Paul's theropods), and even a slightly silly looking ruff around the base of the neck. It's probably unduly lean, but you've got to admire the willingness to treat theropods in this way. Why can't some of them have looked a bit ridiculous?

Paul even illustrates a melanistic theropod, inspired directly by black panthers, in a twist that is ironically reminiscent of the work artists have been producing in the light of All Yesterdays. Sinking its sickle claws into an alarmed Tenontosaurus, this is, of course, Deinonychus...or should that be Velociraptor antirrhopus. People ascribe the steroidal Velociraptor in JP to Paul's reclassification of Deninonychus in PDW, while forgetting that Paul illustrated the animal - along with all other dromaeosaurs - with a covering of feathers. Too conservative by modern standards, but strikingly progressive for the time. If only Stan Winston Studios had been allowed to model the JP raptors more closely on Paul's, we might not still be seeing godawful scaly monstrosities all over the place.

Actual Velociraptor also puts in an appearance, of course, here depicted confronting Saurornithoides (lumped by Paul into Troodon). Note the feathery coats. Paul expends many words on the close link between dromaeosaurs, troodonts and modern birds, the evidence for which is now so overwhelming that to deny it, you'd have to keep sticking your fingers in your ears and singing merry songs about collagen fibres and rauisuchids proving something or other.

Saurornithoides is also the subject of a rather scary, open-mouthed, front-on mugshot. Dromaeosaur and troodont heads do show up Paul's more shrinkwrappy tendencies. In PDW, these animals are depicted with tiny, blunt hornlets projecting out in front of their eyes. These 'hornlets' persisted in palaeoart throughout the '90s, often (ironically) reinforcing the reptilian character of other people's more scaly reconstructions. However, they likely supported a soft tissue 'ridge' adjoining the back of the orbit, as also seen in modern birds. Still, this is a very cool drawing - I can't wonder if inspired John Conway's Huaxiagnathus painting, consciously or otherwise.

Oviraptor also gets a headshot, and this one remains stunning and remarkably up-to-date, mostly thanks to those beautiful fluffy filaments. The patterning on the crest is gorgeous, and inspired countless imitators. Hard to believe that this was drawn in 1987.

And finally (for now)...Greg Paul does Cenozoic theropods! In this case, Phorusrhacos. Unfortunately, these really do look rather amusingly shrink-wrapped and under-feathered, like they were illustrated with the explicit purpose of undermining the Paulian approach to reconstruction. Still, a wonderful curio and a fitting addition to a book entitled Predatory Dinosaurs of the World, as Paul himself acknowledges.

Next time - more of this sort of thing! But first, T. rex Succeeding competition entrants! (Don't forget, you still have until Monday...)