Comment on this story What: Mark Catesby: The Colonial Audubon When: Thru May 16, with a lecture on collecting bird prints April 18, 2 p.m. by Kathryn Morgan of University of Virginia. Where: McClung Museum, 1327 Circle Park Drive, UT campus Cost: Free

Naturalist Mark Catesby set standards for illustration

by Heather Joyner Spica

Imagine the problems faced by naturalists in the early 1700s. First of all, there was, in that time period, no standard system for naming newly discovered species. Therefore, oodles of plants and animals were being called all sorts of things, creating much confusion, and ecosystems were vastly misunderstood. Migrating birds were thought to instead hibernate in caves or beneath ponds.

Given that colonial-era wildlife could not be photographed, specimens had to be dead to be scrutinized; when caught for use, creatures like birds were not easily preserved. Whereas a botanist could press and preserve an entire dried plant, ornithologists dealt with things rotting and smelly. In order to prevent deterioration, birds were baked, stuffed, and rolled in tobacco dust, for instance. Snakes and small animals were sometimes transported intact from the New World to Europe in jars filled with rum.

In calling British naturalist Mark Catesby “the colonial Audubon,” we recognize the tremendous influence and success enjoyed by John James Audubon more than a century after Catesby arrived in Virginia. But however less known or artistically flamboyant Catesby might have been, he was Audubon’s predecessor. “To acknowledge Catesby is to honor conservation, the environment, fine art, historical scholarship, and the spirit of a pioneer,” says American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals President Roger Caras. As such a pioneering force, and as someone who focused on the Southeast, he is especially deserving of the attention UT’s McClung Museum bestows upon him in an exhibit on view through mid-May.

Almost 300 years ago this month, Catesby arrived in Williamsburg, Va., as a guest of his sister. Beginning in 1712, Catesby took up where ornithologist John Lawson left off—soon after, Lawson was purportedly tortured to death by Indians in North Carolina. He devoted seven years to documenting birds, reptiles, fish, insects, quadrupeds and plants in southeastern regions before returning to England where he sought patronage prior to coming back for another three years. Although Europeans had been privy to previous accounts of creatures as “exotic” as rattlesnakes, hummingbirds and opossum, the reports of many observers were incompetent. Catesby changed all that. He also elaborated on Lawson’s findings about Native Americans. “He treated the Indians as humans, rather than wildlife, an attitude not too prevalent in that day and one that later would fall from style,” writes Wayne Hanley in his Natural History in America.

Unfortunately, Catesby’s aforementioned patrons were interested in specimens rather than illustrations, and he struggled throughout two decades thereafter to produce what became his two-volume masterpiece titled Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands. The extensive folio first appeared in parts in 1730, with each volume featuring 100 hand-colored plates. The folio is, according to Hanley, “among the most ambitious undertakings associated with American natural history.” Because Catesby’s sponsors were uninterested in his publishing efforts, he took etching lessons from Joseph Coupy and produced all but two plates on his own in order to save money. He also supervised hand-coloring for the first edition prints.

The McClung’s 50-plus exhibited prints include illustrations by earlier and later artists as well as selected Catesby engravings of flora and fauna occurring in Tennessee. The show thus allows us to place Catesby’s work within a context of similar efforts by Eleazar Albin, William Bartram, Audubon, John Gould and Henry Eeles Dresser. I must admit that when compared to images by Audubon and Gould in particular, Catesby’s prints seem a tad stiff and frontal. With a few exceptions, Catesby’s prints have a deer-in-the-headlights quality. In contrast, Audubon’s groupings of as many as five birds are lyrical, almost choreographed-looking, and Gould’s vibrant colors and exquisite sense of composition are most impressive.

But Catesby deserves recognition for being the first illustrator to place his birds and animals in natural habitats. He was also the first to substitute scientific terminology based on generic relationships for Native American names for his subjects. In fact, in 1787, Thomas Jefferson published a list of birds with the Linnaean, Catesby, and popular names divided into three columns. In American Ornithology Before Audubon, author Elsa G. Allen asserts that the quality of Catesby’s work is so superior to foregoing accounts that he ranks as “America’s first real naturalist.”

In my mind, what is perhaps most interesting about the McClung show is the energy and devotion Catesby represents. And the form his exuberance takes is both informative and charming.

April 8, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 15 © 2004 Metro Pulse