John James Audubon loved birds. He loved to watch, study, and paint them for hours on the American frontier. But the way he got his feathery models to pose would make many animal lovers cringe. He hunted them, shot them, and—fanning out their magnificent tails and propping up their lifeless heads—pinned them in strikingly lifelike positions to a board, as subjects for some of the greatest paintings of birds in the world.

Perhaps environmentalists would rather not know that this man, whose name is now synonymous with American conservation, killed thousands of birds in order to complete his renowned catalogue of bird species. But Audubon was a fantastic shot as well as an artist. Thanks to his passion for hunting, as well as for wildlife and art, we have his epic book, The Birds of America, which contains 435 life-sized portraits of every bird known during the birth of America.

As both a tribute to the American master and a look at the deep roots of American conservation, director and producer Lawrence Hott created a documentary of Audubon’s life and work. John James Audubon: Drawn From Nature, will premiere tonight at 9pm (EST), as part of PBS’ American Masters series.

Born in Haiti in 1785, Audubon spent his childhood in France amid the slaughter and gore of the French revolution before making his way to America as a young man. Early on, his passion for all things ornithological led him to extreme behavior. He painstakingly made single-bristle paintbrushes that would give birds’ tails the lifelike detail he demanded. Later in life, his hobby became an obsession, causing him to neglect other responsibilities. When his once prosperous trade business failed he spent time in jail, declared bankruptcy, and watched his wife and two sons fall into destitution. “If I were jealous,” said his wife, “I would have a bitter time of it, for every bird is my rival.”

In 1833, Audubon went to great lengths to locate, purchase, and kill a golden eagle for use as a model. Unwilling to disturb its feathers, he tried to smoke it to death, covering its cage with a heavy blanket and lighting coals underneath. Hours later, he returned to the hard gaze of the eagle still alive and well. When adding sulfur to the smoke didn’t do the trick either, Audubon finally pierced the eagle’s heart with a long, metal pin.

Audubon himself was not blind to the irony that pervaded his work. He once referred to himself as a two-legged monster that went out with his riffle and killed the very creatures that inspired him most. Any day that he did not kill at least 100 birds was a day wasted, he said.

When no one in America would publish his paintings, Audubon hopped aboard a cotton ship to England. He was an immediate success across the pond, where, to the delight of the British upper class, he played the rugged American frontiersman with bear grease in his hair and paintings of the new world in a portfolio under his arm. He quickly found publishers, and to own your own copy of Birds of America was soon a luxury of the privileged. The kings of England and France subscribed to Audubon’s work, along with 200 of the wealthiest families in Europe and America.

Though he saw the beginnings of abuse of the American landscape and wildlife, and worried that the new world would wind up dirty and stripped of resources, Audubon did not practice conservation in any formal way. It wasn’t until decades after his death in 1851 that the Audubon Society formed, in reaction to a plumed hat trend in ladies’ fashion, which decimated entire populations of egrets and herons. Today, the Audubon Society maintains its focus on the birds its namesake loved so well, but has also expanded to become a national network of millions interested in various conservation projects.

Throughout the documentary, historians, museum curators, artists, authors, and close-ups of the paintings themselves bring Audubon to life within the context of a young, wild America. It may not be a blockbuster, but Drawn From Nature delivers lessons truly worth applying to your own life, like try stepping into nature and taking a good look; or, if at first you don’t succeed, sail to England and see if they’ll publish your book; or, take care to notice and record every intricate detail of the natural world around you, because it will look quite different in a century.

Posted on Jul 25, 2007 at 3:05 PM
Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)