Friday, September 4, 2015

In Search of Eden – Chapter 8. The Memoir of a Zoo Career



 The Great Plains Zoo and Delbridge Museum of Natural History


When I arrived as the new executive director at the Great Plains Zoo in the spring of 1988, the first animal I encountered was the most impressive bull elephant I had ever seen. He had long curved tusks, his ears were fanned out in alarm, and his trunk reached out to smell whatever came his way. He was almost life-like -- almost. Unfortunately, this elephant was a mounted specimen in the zoo’s Delbridge Museum of Natural History, a facet of the zoo that I initially found distasteful. The museum had over a hundred animals that had been shot by a local big game hunter and placed in his hardware store in the 1960’s and 70’s. Upon the hunter's death, the collection was purchased by philanthropist, C. J. Delbridge and donated to the citizens of Sioux Falls on the condition that a museum be built to house them. The City decided to build the museum at the zoo. Fortunately, the specimens had been mounted by some of the best taxidermists in the nation, and were in lifelike poses of museum quality.
Delbridge Museum of Natural History

Managing the museum was the most memorable aspect of my time in Sioux Falls. When I arrive there, the specimens were randomly arranged as individual artifacts in a large, open indoor space. There was great potential to turn it into an educational facility if we could place them in naturalistic, diorama groupings. I enlisted the aid of a local exhibit specialist and, we traveled to Los Angeles in October of 1990 to consult with the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History. There we learned how to make molds out of silicon, latex, and plaster. We found out where to purchase artificial rocks and plants and we observed the latest advances in animatronic exhibits and robotics. The first exhibit we developed in our own museum was an African waterhole, complete with artificial water, simulated animal footprints, and, of course, our own mounted animals. In the process of developing dioramas, my research uncovered one of the most fascinating characters I have ever come across.

Carl Akeley
 
Carl Akeley had been part of a zoological collecting expedition to British Somaliland (Somalia) in 1896 for the Field Museum in Chicago. It was there that he became somewhat of a legend in Africa when he killed a leopard – with his bare hands! According to his account, he was walking through the bush when “I wheeled to face the leopard in midair. The rifle was knocked flying and in its place was eighty pounds of frantic cat. Her intention was to sink her teeth into my throat and, with this grip and with her forepaws, to hang on to me while with her hind claws she dug out my abdomen; for this pleasant practice is the way of leopards”.
Fortunately for Akeley, she missed his throat and struck him high in the chest, catching his upper arm in her mouth. He managed to grab her by the throat, stuff the other hand in her mouth, and fall on top of her. After an epic struggle, Akeley succeeded in strangling the leopard.
Akeley’s real claim to fame, however, was in the world of taxidermy. His museum dioramas (which can still be seen today) were astonishingly realistic. When he entered the profession and observed the techniques of the time, he saw a better way to mount animals than those commonly in use at the time. He was put off by the “upholsterer’s” method in which a skin was sewn up, like a pillow, and stuffed with straw or excelsior until it would hold no more, then “artistically” pulled in with thread here and there to create contour. 
His method was to take extensive measurements of the animal, often making plaster casts of the animal’s face and other parts of the body. Akeley then used modeling clay to sculpt the anatomically perfect, skinless body of the animal. The model was covered with plaster to make a two-sided, removable mold which was used as a cast for the paper mâche mannequin. Akeley would stretch the skin over the mannequin, working wrinkles and veins into the skin. When the process was completed, he would touch up the skin with paint and brush it. Akeley’s animal mounts were, and still are, uncannily lifelike. His method, with only slight variations (the use of fiberglass instead of paper mâche) is still in use today.
Akeley’s artistic eye also extended to the rest of the diorama. He photographed scenes in nature and gathered samples of bushes, plants, and other natural materials. He used these back in the studio, where he made plaster casts and reproduced some of the artifacts in wax.

Museums and Zoos
 
One of Akeley’s pioneering achievements is still a prominent exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History in the heart of New York City. At the center of the Akeley Hall of African Mammals is a freestanding group of eight elephants surrounded by twenty eight habitat dioramas. One of these dioramas depicts a family group of mountain gorillas in a scene that Akeley so meticulously created that a member of the museum’s exhibits department was able to find the location 90 years later, in 2011. Akeley had visited the Virunga Mountains of central Africa in 1921, collecting animals and plants while taking photographs and painting background studies. Though construction of the hall was completed in 1936, the dioramas would gradually open between the mid-1920s and early 1940s. Sixty years later in 1999 and thirty minutes up the highway, the Wildlife Conservation Society opened its own version of a “hall of African Mammals”. The Bronx Zoo’s six and a half acre Congo Gorilla Forest also seeks to transport visitors to the heart of Africa. The zoo uses live animals and takes visitors on a simulated Congo wildlife safari beneath a canopy of leaves, through sprays of mist, and up to treetop lookouts.
American Museum of Natural History
 The gorilla diorama at the museum is beautiful, and carefully crafted, like a piece of exquisite artwork, but it is static and never changes. The zoo gorilla exhibit is also carefully crafted but it is dynamic and constantly changing. The museum viewers stand in hushed reverence while zoogoers are raucous, like the jungle.  And like the two sides of the same coin, both museums and zoos have similar purposes – to communicate a message to a variety of audiences. The Bronx Zoo’s tagline is “connecting people to wild nature” while the American Museum of Natural History seeks to “discover, interpret, and disseminate … knowledge about … the natural world”. In short, they are both committed to education.
Bronx Zoo
It took some time, but eventually I came to appreciate the educational value of our museum in Sioux Falls. We had a number of rare animals that our local citizens would otherwise never have an opportunity to see. It is difficult to appreciate the height of a giraffe or the mass of an elephant until you are directly underneath one. The collection even had a Giant Panda. It was not part of the original “hunted” collection, but had been donated later. If we could link the zoo collection with the museum collection there was, I felt, an opportunity to provide a uniquely complete animal experience. This is one of the reasons that, when the Toledo Zoo came calling with a job opportunity, I had to take it. They also had a museum, although one with no mounted animals, and on August 8th, 1991 I departed Sioux Falls for the next chapter of my life in Toledo, Ohio.

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