One further indulgence in the world of ugly life-sized models before our illustration-reviewing service resumes (Asher's got a corker coming up by the look of it, and I'll probably be able to squeeze a VDA out in the near future, too). Earlier in the year, Niroot and I visited Blackgang Chine to gawp at their newly mobile dinosaur collection. While a few of the old stodgy static models do remain, we did wonder - what happened to the rest, not least that most memorable of mascots, The World's Derpiest T. rex?
Well, Arron Swaffar, aka The Nutters Productions, found out...
One would've thought that Blackgang wouldn't miss out on the opportunity to make a crafty few quid by auctioning off bits of their beloved old dinosaurs, but no - here they are, broken up and heaped on a cliff top out of sight of the public. The film doesn't need disconcerting music and echoing voice samples to shock - for any fan of Blackgang and/or ugly '70s dinosaur models, this is heartbreaking stuff.
By the way, there really is an abandoned house in an area owned by the park - long since left behind in the face of unstoppable coastal erosion. And now it's haunted by a caveman family. Brrr...
Showing posts with label ugly ugly dinosaurs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ugly ugly dinosaurs. Show all posts
Monday, June 23, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Crystal Palace, finally
Eventually, one simply has to make the pilgrimage. Frankly, I'm not sure how I managed to delay it for so long. For anyone with an interest in palaeontology - and especially for those with an interest in palaeoart - a visit to Crystal Palace Park is simply a must. More than that - it's unavoidable. You will end up here, one day, staring up at Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins' concrete monstrosities. Here is the Land Where Ugly Life-Sized Dinosaur Models Began. And it's quite wonderful.
Most readers will be familiar with the backstory (and David's done it before), so I'll try and be brief. Crystal Palace Park in London is named after the eponymous building, which was bought up and rebuilt here following The Great Exhibition in Hyde Park in 1851. A series of landscaped gardens were created around the Palace, with the Dinosaur Park being one of these. The models were created by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins and his team, with the scientific advice of the brilliant anatomist and evil bastard Richard Owen. Among the creatures created were the famous Iguanodon, Megalosaurus and Hylaeosaurus, but also a whole host of non-dinosaurs, including Palaeozoic amphibians and reptiles, Cenozoic mammals and, of course, marine reptiles.
The models have survived more-or-less intact into the present today, which is utterly remarkable given how exposed they all are. Replacement parts have been created here and there, but these are, for the most part, the same bizarre beasties that our Victorian forebears gazed upon. These days, the models have become icons of scientific progress - that is, of how far we've progressed since the 19th century. Of course, given how little the earliest palaeontologists had to go on, it's quite surprising that the sculpts make any sense at all. But they do make some sense.
For example, although aware of their reptilian character, Owen was clever enough to realise that the dinosaurs must have had upright limbs like modern mammals and birds. Today, the 'elephantine lizards' he helped shape look laughably inaccurate, their nose horns the best-known example of how a simple anatomical error can result in a problem so glaringly obvious when writ large. However, at the time - with no clue as to just how different from today's animals a large ornithopod was - these were pretty sensible and solid attempts. (Apparently, Owen also knew that the nose horn might be a mistake - but as any palaeoartist today will tell you, a little conjecture is completely necessary.)
All that said, we can only wonder what might have happened if Waterhouse Hawkins had Gideon Mantell as his consultant, as was originally intended. Supposedly, Mantell had already figured out that the dinosaurs didn't look quite as Owen envisaged, particularly when it came to their limbs and posture. Unfortunately, ill health meant that Mantell had to turn the job down.
Although the Iguanodon often get all the attention, the park's gigantic Megalosaurus is perhaps its most impressive model of all. Resembling a hulking croco-bear with enormously powerful and muscular limbs, it's a world away from the svelte biped we envisage nowadays. The shoulder hump is a particularly curious feature, and some have speculated that it might be the result of Owen being privy to material now referred to Becklespinax (the hump, in reality, being from vertebrae nearer the hips).
Seemingly as if to further accentuate this model's hopeless inaccuracy in the face of modern science, the Megalosaurus has now sprouted some foliage, which hangs limply down from its mouth. Or maybe Ken Ham broke in and wedged it in there.
The Hylaeosaurus, with its slightly sprawling posture, is closer to just looking like an oversized lizard than the other dinosaurs. It sports a replacement fibreglass head which, unfortunately, is rather difficult to photograph (hence the above 'rear end shot'). Given how ankylosaurs have suffered in palaeoart over the years, it's probably fair to say that this model isn't so different from depictions that appeared 100 years later.
Unknown to (or unnoticed by) many people, the models are actually grouped together according to the time period in which the animals lived. From one end of the lake to the other, they progress from the Permian, through the Mesozoic, and then on into the Cenozoic. This way, all the Jurassic marine reptiles are grouped together, but Mosasaurus is sequestered elsewhere. The plesiosaurs are recognisable, although their necks bend and twist in impossible ways, while the large ichthyosaurs lack dorsal fins and have newt-like tail tips. It's tempting to think that the exposed scleral rings are just another unfortunate inaccuracy, but they may have been an intentional anatomy lesson; such an interpretation is given more credence by the exposed 'pavement' of bones in the flippers (as above).
Just up from the plesiosaurs are a pair of marvellous, fearsome-looking Steneosaurus. The animal was a marine crocodyliform, and is known from some excellently preserved fossils. As such, Owen's interpretations aren't a million miles away from the modern view, although they owe a lot to the living gharial. The above photo also depicts what appears to be a coot (Fulica altra) nest under construction, carefully watched over by a grimacing, serpentine plesiosaur.
Back down in the Permian, the star attractions may be smaller, but they're no less strange for it. The mutant toads hanging around by the lake are in fact labyrinthodonts, which were imagined to be entirely tailless. Their appearance is fascinatingly bizarre, as if someone grafted the megalosaur's head on to a frog. Weirder still are a group of shelled dicynodonts, which Owen imagined to be turtle-like (unfortunately, I didn't manage to get a decent photo). From the Permian end of the lake, one has a marvellous 'time tunnel' view through to the dinosaurs at the far side, and the lush (if not entirely appropriate) greenery that's grown up around the models in recent years lends a suitably primordial feel. Er, if you ignore all the flowers.
Beyond the end of the tunnel, adjacent the boating lake, are positioned a handful of different Cenozoic mammals. (Many more were planned for the park originally, but funding ran out - a shame, as the proposed Glyptodon would no doubt have looked fantastic.) A Megaloceros family provides a visually striking focal point, and - because the path wraps around them - it's possible to view them from any number of different angles, and take in all of the wonderful details. In the below photo, a pair of American tourists (I'll get to them in a minute) are carefully examining the mighty Megaloceros male.
Around the corner we have Megatherium, another impressively large creation. The tree it's hugging, in classic Megatherium/hippy fashion, is in fact the original Victorian specimen (now rather dead). According to signage in the park, the tree once grew enough to knock the sloth's arm off, and it now bears a replacement limb. It's difficult to photograph the Megatherium's face, but it really is quite adorable, as I'm quire sure the real animal was. I mean, they're just great big mounds of cuddly fuzz, if you think about it...and ignore the bloody great claws.
Speaking of adorable mammals...I was lucky enough to share my visit with none other than Chris DiPiazza of Jersey Boys Hunt Dinosaurs fame, along with Niroot and our mutual friends Nancy and Huseyin. Much joyous geekery ensued, as I'm sure you can imagine, and I'd like to sincerely thank one and all for the day. Cheers!
And finally...various (generally excellent) signs around the park show 'contemporary' (i.e. modern) depictions of the prehistoric creatures. Most of these aren't too bad, but the 'modern' pterosaur is proper horrorshow. Check it out, unless you're a pterosaur expert, in which case I'd advise closing this page and backing away from your PC at once. 'Til next time!
Most readers will be familiar with the backstory (and David's done it before), so I'll try and be brief. Crystal Palace Park in London is named after the eponymous building, which was bought up and rebuilt here following The Great Exhibition in Hyde Park in 1851. A series of landscaped gardens were created around the Palace, with the Dinosaur Park being one of these. The models were created by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins and his team, with the scientific advice of the brilliant anatomist and evil bastard Richard Owen. Among the creatures created were the famous Iguanodon, Megalosaurus and Hylaeosaurus, but also a whole host of non-dinosaurs, including Palaeozoic amphibians and reptiles, Cenozoic mammals and, of course, marine reptiles.
The models have survived more-or-less intact into the present today, which is utterly remarkable given how exposed they all are. Replacement parts have been created here and there, but these are, for the most part, the same bizarre beasties that our Victorian forebears gazed upon. These days, the models have become icons of scientific progress - that is, of how far we've progressed since the 19th century. Of course, given how little the earliest palaeontologists had to go on, it's quite surprising that the sculpts make any sense at all. But they do make some sense.
For example, although aware of their reptilian character, Owen was clever enough to realise that the dinosaurs must have had upright limbs like modern mammals and birds. Today, the 'elephantine lizards' he helped shape look laughably inaccurate, their nose horns the best-known example of how a simple anatomical error can result in a problem so glaringly obvious when writ large. However, at the time - with no clue as to just how different from today's animals a large ornithopod was - these were pretty sensible and solid attempts. (Apparently, Owen also knew that the nose horn might be a mistake - but as any palaeoartist today will tell you, a little conjecture is completely necessary.)
All that said, we can only wonder what might have happened if Waterhouse Hawkins had Gideon Mantell as his consultant, as was originally intended. Supposedly, Mantell had already figured out that the dinosaurs didn't look quite as Owen envisaged, particularly when it came to their limbs and posture. Unfortunately, ill health meant that Mantell had to turn the job down.
Although the Iguanodon often get all the attention, the park's gigantic Megalosaurus is perhaps its most impressive model of all. Resembling a hulking croco-bear with enormously powerful and muscular limbs, it's a world away from the svelte biped we envisage nowadays. The shoulder hump is a particularly curious feature, and some have speculated that it might be the result of Owen being privy to material now referred to Becklespinax (the hump, in reality, being from vertebrae nearer the hips).
Seemingly as if to further accentuate this model's hopeless inaccuracy in the face of modern science, the Megalosaurus has now sprouted some foliage, which hangs limply down from its mouth. Or maybe Ken Ham broke in and wedged it in there.
The Hylaeosaurus, with its slightly sprawling posture, is closer to just looking like an oversized lizard than the other dinosaurs. It sports a replacement fibreglass head which, unfortunately, is rather difficult to photograph (hence the above 'rear end shot'). Given how ankylosaurs have suffered in palaeoart over the years, it's probably fair to say that this model isn't so different from depictions that appeared 100 years later.
Unknown to (or unnoticed by) many people, the models are actually grouped together according to the time period in which the animals lived. From one end of the lake to the other, they progress from the Permian, through the Mesozoic, and then on into the Cenozoic. This way, all the Jurassic marine reptiles are grouped together, but Mosasaurus is sequestered elsewhere. The plesiosaurs are recognisable, although their necks bend and twist in impossible ways, while the large ichthyosaurs lack dorsal fins and have newt-like tail tips. It's tempting to think that the exposed scleral rings are just another unfortunate inaccuracy, but they may have been an intentional anatomy lesson; such an interpretation is given more credence by the exposed 'pavement' of bones in the flippers (as above).
Just up from the plesiosaurs are a pair of marvellous, fearsome-looking Steneosaurus. The animal was a marine crocodyliform, and is known from some excellently preserved fossils. As such, Owen's interpretations aren't a million miles away from the modern view, although they owe a lot to the living gharial. The above photo also depicts what appears to be a coot (Fulica altra) nest under construction, carefully watched over by a grimacing, serpentine plesiosaur.
Back down in the Permian, the star attractions may be smaller, but they're no less strange for it. The mutant toads hanging around by the lake are in fact labyrinthodonts, which were imagined to be entirely tailless. Their appearance is fascinatingly bizarre, as if someone grafted the megalosaur's head on to a frog. Weirder still are a group of shelled dicynodonts, which Owen imagined to be turtle-like (unfortunately, I didn't manage to get a decent photo). From the Permian end of the lake, one has a marvellous 'time tunnel' view through to the dinosaurs at the far side, and the lush (if not entirely appropriate) greenery that's grown up around the models in recent years lends a suitably primordial feel. Er, if you ignore all the flowers.
Beyond the end of the tunnel, adjacent the boating lake, are positioned a handful of different Cenozoic mammals. (Many more were planned for the park originally, but funding ran out - a shame, as the proposed Glyptodon would no doubt have looked fantastic.) A Megaloceros family provides a visually striking focal point, and - because the path wraps around them - it's possible to view them from any number of different angles, and take in all of the wonderful details. In the below photo, a pair of American tourists (I'll get to them in a minute) are carefully examining the mighty Megaloceros male.
Around the corner we have Megatherium, another impressively large creation. The tree it's hugging, in classic Megatherium/hippy fashion, is in fact the original Victorian specimen (now rather dead). According to signage in the park, the tree once grew enough to knock the sloth's arm off, and it now bears a replacement limb. It's difficult to photograph the Megatherium's face, but it really is quite adorable, as I'm quire sure the real animal was. I mean, they're just great big mounds of cuddly fuzz, if you think about it...and ignore the bloody great claws.
Speaking of adorable mammals...I was lucky enough to share my visit with none other than Chris DiPiazza of Jersey Boys Hunt Dinosaurs fame, along with Niroot and our mutual friends Nancy and Huseyin. Much joyous geekery ensued, as I'm sure you can imagine, and I'd like to sincerely thank one and all for the day. Cheers!
 |
| Mirror shades. Just typical. |
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| GAAAAAAHHHHH |
Monday, March 17, 2014
Down on the farm
What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare at huge, grotesque models of extinct animals? When people ask me why I am willing to wade through hordes of screaming rugrats in order to gaze upon such eyesores, I only have to point them to the famous poem that Wordsworth didn't write. And with that in mind, Niroot and I recently took a trip down to Godstone Farm in Surrey (that's in the south east of England, for all you forrins) to check out their newly-purchased menagerie of monstrosities.
(All photos by me, unless they're by Niroot, in which case they're marked 'NP'.)
According to an article in the local rag, the models were purchased second-hand from "a closed-down attraction in Berkshire". Happily, this means they are of a distinctly retro bent and feature a number of sculpts that we've seen before on LITC, along with a few welcome surprises. The above Pteranodon (or 'Pterosaurus', as the farm would have it) is a quite stunning example of fibreglass grotesquerie, even if Living Dinosaurs' model sadly means that it isn't the strangest pterosaur model I've ever seen. Still, its super stretch-o-neck and screaming gob are quite something to behold. I do like that houses are visible in this shot - it gives the whole thing a rather Rodan feel.
The Pteranoderp is new to me, but this rather unfortunate fellow seems to follow me wherever I go - it's a mid-century-style Scolosaurus, complete with stumpy, spike-tipped tail, squishy fatness and gormless expression. The psychedelic mushrooms in the above shot aren't ever explained, and would appear to be a remnant from a previous attraction - nevertheless, they add a fantastically surreal touch to proceedings, evoking yet more memories of Blackgang Chine.
Here we see Niroot posing as moodily as he can against a backdrop featuring alpacas, a pretty hideous dinosaur model, and a sign with a photograph of a toy on it. 'Pterosaurus' aside, most of the facts presented on the (plentiful) signs are factually correct, even if they crib illustrations from some odd places. The Triceratops is another model that's popped up hither and thither, although nowhere near as often as my old friend (and obvious head-swap)...
...the forehead-horned gigantor Styracosaurus-thing!
Really, it's quite astonishing how many of these are out there. This one's seen better days, although I understand it took a bit of a battering in the winter storms we had. Here's hoping they'll have the old timer looking as bad as new very soon.
The final second-hand model in the set is this boring old hairy heffalump. It's livened up by still more psychedelic mushrooms and a terrifying tusk deformity. (OK, so it's probably just a painting error. I can't help but imagine them painting one side incorrectly, thinking 'Oh shit!', and then painting the other side to match. 'Hey, nobody will notice...')
To pad out their collection, it seems that Godstone Farm purchased a set of smaller, newer models. The above Stegosaurus has had his feet buried in the mud by his grandchildren while he was asleep, and is now struggling to move - hence the furious expression.
Nearby sits a curious frog on a set of painted lilypads. What's it doing there? I have no idea, but again, the eccentricity tickles me. Although if it's eccentricity you're after...
...you can't top a JP-esque 'raptor' model with only two fingers, peering out from within an admittedly quite impressive bower. This peculiar creation is labelled 'Tyrannosaurus' (no doubt 'cos of the missing fingers), and is also to be found...
...nestling in a seriously oversized egg (and among some speakers). Got to love those demented, slit pupil eyes. Close by, the mounted head of an 'adult' provides an amusing photo opportunity (as modelled below). Why, with the tooth row extending all the way under the orbit, one might be inclined to think that this theropod is of a basal, Early Jurassic lineage, perhaps related to the Dilophosauridae in some way. Or it might just be pop-culture tosh. Whatever.
If one is to tire of the fibreglass lunacy, there are plenty of Real Dinosaurs to be had on the farm. My favourites are the rheas, even if they spend far too much time grazing, and nowhere near enough time showing off their crazy ratite flexi-necks. I love me some rhea neck.
There are a particularly large number of chickens (makes sense, I suppose), with a wide variety of breeds on show. The farm's fondness for kippen might explain the following sign:
Although on the other hand, they might have just been looking for an excuse to use that image. Good grief. This will lead to the destruction of a great many bureaus, I feel.
So, yes, the dinosaurs are goofy. But is the attraction overall any good? Of course it is - there's a reason that the car park fills to the brim every weekend. With a great many opportunities to get close to farm animals, this is a fantastic place to give children an education in both natural history and the origins of their Happy Meal. Even for adults, there's the chance to get acquainted with some more unusual domestic animal breeds, including some lovely ducks, geese, and - of course - BLOODY CHICKENS. Naturally, it does depend on whether you give two shakes of a cornified fleshy appendage about domesticated animals - but why wouldn't you? They're fascinating too.
And on that note, I'll leave you with this picture of Niroot that I couldn't squeeze in anywhere else. With apologies for the nuclear glare.
(All photos by me, unless they're by Niroot, in which case they're marked 'NP'.)
 |
| I've got a strong urge to fly...but I got nowhere to fly to |
According to an article in the local rag, the models were purchased second-hand from "a closed-down attraction in Berkshire". Happily, this means they are of a distinctly retro bent and feature a number of sculpts that we've seen before on LITC, along with a few welcome surprises. The above Pteranodon (or 'Pterosaurus', as the farm would have it) is a quite stunning example of fibreglass grotesquerie, even if Living Dinosaurs' model sadly means that it isn't the strangest pterosaur model I've ever seen. Still, its super stretch-o-neck and screaming gob are quite something to behold. I do like that houses are visible in this shot - it gives the whole thing a rather Rodan feel.
The Pteranoderp is new to me, but this rather unfortunate fellow seems to follow me wherever I go - it's a mid-century-style Scolosaurus, complete with stumpy, spike-tipped tail, squishy fatness and gormless expression. The psychedelic mushrooms in the above shot aren't ever explained, and would appear to be a remnant from a previous attraction - nevertheless, they add a fantastically surreal touch to proceedings, evoking yet more memories of Blackgang Chine.
Here we see Niroot posing as moodily as he can against a backdrop featuring alpacas, a pretty hideous dinosaur model, and a sign with a photograph of a toy on it. 'Pterosaurus' aside, most of the facts presented on the (plentiful) signs are factually correct, even if they crib illustrations from some odd places. The Triceratops is another model that's popped up hither and thither, although nowhere near as often as my old friend (and obvious head-swap)...
...the forehead-horned gigantor Styracosaurus-thing!
Really, it's quite astonishing how many of these are out there. This one's seen better days, although I understand it took a bit of a battering in the winter storms we had. Here's hoping they'll have the old timer looking as bad as new very soon.
The final second-hand model in the set is this boring old hairy heffalump. It's livened up by still more psychedelic mushrooms and a terrifying tusk deformity. (OK, so it's probably just a painting error. I can't help but imagine them painting one side incorrectly, thinking 'Oh shit!', and then painting the other side to match. 'Hey, nobody will notice...')
 |
| NP |
To pad out their collection, it seems that Godstone Farm purchased a set of smaller, newer models. The above Stegosaurus has had his feet buried in the mud by his grandchildren while he was asleep, and is now struggling to move - hence the furious expression.
 |
| NP |
Nearby sits a curious frog on a set of painted lilypads. What's it doing there? I have no idea, but again, the eccentricity tickles me. Although if it's eccentricity you're after...
...you can't top a JP-esque 'raptor' model with only two fingers, peering out from within an admittedly quite impressive bower. This peculiar creation is labelled 'Tyrannosaurus' (no doubt 'cos of the missing fingers), and is also to be found...
...nestling in a seriously oversized egg (and among some speakers). Got to love those demented, slit pupil eyes. Close by, the mounted head of an 'adult' provides an amusing photo opportunity (as modelled below). Why, with the tooth row extending all the way under the orbit, one might be inclined to think that this theropod is of a basal, Early Jurassic lineage, perhaps related to the Dilophosauridae in some way. Or it might just be pop-culture tosh. Whatever.
 |
| NP |
If one is to tire of the fibreglass lunacy, there are plenty of Real Dinosaurs to be had on the farm. My favourites are the rheas, even if they spend far too much time grazing, and nowhere near enough time showing off their crazy ratite flexi-necks. I love me some rhea neck.
 |
| Helmeted guinea fowl and crazy mop-headed chicken breeds, together at last! |
 |
| NP |
Although on the other hand, they might have just been looking for an excuse to use that image. Good grief. This will lead to the destruction of a great many bureaus, I feel.
So, yes, the dinosaurs are goofy. But is the attraction overall any good? Of course it is - there's a reason that the car park fills to the brim every weekend. With a great many opportunities to get close to farm animals, this is a fantastic place to give children an education in both natural history and the origins of their Happy Meal. Even for adults, there's the chance to get acquainted with some more unusual domestic animal breeds, including some lovely ducks, geese, and - of course - BLOODY CHICKENS. Naturally, it does depend on whether you give two shakes of a cornified fleshy appendage about domesticated animals - but why wouldn't you? They're fascinating too.
And on that note, I'll leave you with this picture of Niroot that I couldn't squeeze in anywhere else. With apologies for the nuclear glare.
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