BY KAREN SAMPLES
The Cincinnati Enquirer
FORT MITCHELL -- It's not enough anymore to get the eyeballs straight and the fur smooth.
Today's taxidermist has to think about nose gristle, third eyelids and those delicate wrinkles in the snout.
Not to mention habitat. You can't just stick a head on a wall anymore. That's so . . . well, steakhouselike. These corporate types, with their bright ideas for instant restaurant decor, have really dumbed down the profession.
Today, taxidermists are artfully balancing deer on pedestals, perhaps with a snow-covered tree branch nearby. They're showing them munching on leaves, shedding antlers or simply looking blissful, as if recalling those happy days when their heads and bodies were still together.
At Drawbridge Estates this week, I also saw coyotes cavorting in the snow, a wolf stepping over a log, crows ripping into cherry pie and a raccoon clutching a crawfish, whose appendages were realistically scattered on the fake ground.
Wow.
Forget about that old cliche -- the deer head as tacky testament to manhood. These animals were gorgeous, if unfortunate enough to be dead.
About 150 of them were at the Drawbridge this week for the annual convention of the International Guild of Taxidermy.
A bunch of people also attended.
When they weren't nervously combing the chin hairs of their contest entries, the taxidermists were learning new techniques from each other and attending seminars on fake-rock making and the like. Outside, someone had brought several live deer and fawns for people to observe, the better to recreate their behavior later. In the main room, rows of contest entries were followed by rows of animal parts. Suppliers hawked ear cartilages, fish musculature, antlers and eyeballs.
"Look!" a sign said. "New bird eyes."
One taxidermist put notes next to his contest entries, apparently referring to rainwater that had seeped into the back of the room during Thursday's storm.
"Fur damaged in flood," one note said. And another: "B___hole puckered in flood."
Goodness, I thought. That's blunt.
Seizing the chance to work weather into my story, I diligently copied down the notes.
Then somebody told me they were a joke.
Oh . . . right. Taxidermy humor.
The new president of the guild is Northern Kentucky's own David Noem, whose shop is in Union. He had four entries in the contest, including a cape buffalo and a boar-like creature called a peccary, which was so realistic that the corner of its eyes glistened with fake mucous.
Mr. Noem has been mounting animals -- they don't call it "stuffing" anymore -- since he was 8. The practice was more acceptable then, even though today's mounts are far more artistic.
"It was just like building a model car or a model airplane," Mr. Noem says of the good old days. "At that time, it was OK to go out and shoot something with your BB gun."
Not anymore. These days, Mr. Noem can't seem to go anywhere without encountering an indignant animal lover.
Take the Cincinnati boat show. Occasionally he'll bring along a baby elk he mounted after its mother accidentally stepped on it. "You just get hounded by ignorant people -- "Who killed this?' " Mr. Noem says.
Sometimes he notices these same people are carrying leather purses or wearing leather shoes, which were once, technically speaking, cows.
Usually he resists the urge to point this out.
Anyway, taxidermists do have their standards.
They don't allow gory fight scenes in shows, for instance, and people can't just blow away a canary in order to mount something small. The federal government prohibits the mounting of most birds - crows being an exception - that aren't hunted for sport.
Taxidermists also don't want to see Rover mounted for posterity. Mr. Noem gets plenty of requests to "stuff" French poodles and the like. But he figures a pet owner would never be completely happy with the result.
"You don't want to go there," he says, chuckling. "Pets are a no-no. We're not funeral directors."
They're more like painters, sculptors and animal behaviorists, with a little bit of floral designer thrown in.
That's another thing about today's taxidermy: twigs, leaves, rocks and other props are all part of the composition. It has to flow. Last year, one speaker even shared his secret for "color charts" to determine which shades go best with what animals.
"These can be part of your home decor," says Jan Van Housen, a Michigan taxidermist, gesturing toward the array of animals in the room.
Not like those steakhouse heads, which seem to haunt Mr. Noem. Talking about them, he almost sounds like one of the animal lovers. "A lot of deer heads mounted 20 years ago were hideous, and it's a shame they were killed," he says, only half-joking. "I have to agree with them there."
Karen Samples is The Enquirer's Kentucky columnist. Her column appears on Sundays and Thursdays in The Kentucky Enquirer. She can be reached at 578-5584 or email
her at ksamples@enquirer.com
SAMPLES ARCHIVE
