It’s been far too long since I last posted, long enough for the artist’s website to fall off the face of the internet. Alas, that time can never be recovered, even if the site’s content can and will be.
Jay Matternes is probably my first exposure to reconstructed hominins, having had a musty old copy of Early Man, a book I’d recommend even if only for his artwork, stored in my childhood home. This single reconstruction hardly does justice to his full portfolio, but all things in their own time.
There’s little more to say about H. idaltu that I haven’t said already. In a span of decades, only a handful of reconstructions have been performed, whether by professionals or amateurs.
I suppose, if there’s anything more to say, it’s to note that Herto Man, dated at 160kya, actually seems more morphologically archaic than the significantly older Omo 1, dated at 230kya, which surely says something about the ancient population structure and range of variation in Africa.
When we consider that H. rhodesiensis overlapped chronologically with H. sapiens, and factor in other seemingly intermediate specimens like the Florisbad skull, a picture emerges of a rather unevenly paced and messy transition to the modern form that differed between population groups and blurred the lines between species. A bit of within Africa multiregionalism, in short, which I might discuss further at another time.
Having shown off some of Cicero Moraes work the other day, albeit in canine form, I thought I’d make his work the first to be showcased in a series dedicated to Herto Man, the type specimen for the supposed subspecies Homo sapiens idaltu. “Supposed” here implying that the borders between species are often fuzzy or ill-defined, and subspecies is doubly so. Especially without knowing how populations were structured in their time.
Still, the individual in question, uncovered in Ehtiopia, was undoubtedly unusual by any modern standard. It’s an unfortunately all too common delusion that some modern population or another, such as Africans in general or Khoisan peoples in particular, are representative of the first men or the common ancestor of all mankind, as if there’s some place where evolution had long ago come to a halt. This is a genuinely ludicrous notion, no population has simply ceased to evolve, and everyone is more or less equally a descendant of the first men as everyone else.
With that in mind, we can see that this man doesn’t particularly resemble any modern African. The brow structure and size especially is rare to non-existent on the continent, and that’s making allowances for deformity. I could continue exploring various anatomical quirks if I cared to, but that is not the point of this entry.
In regard to the quality of the art itself, I think we finally hit upon the inherent flaws. With the Muge Dog, the lack of photorealism was easier to overlook. However, the average human eye is far more discerning when it comes to our own kind. For me, at least, the art fails to really bring the man to life, fails to really look like anyone who has ever lived. I can’t help but feel various details remain unnatural in form, even taking into account the general lack of photorealism.
Still, it’s one of the few reconstructions of Herto Man one can find anywhere, especially taking into account that it’s 3D, and it certainly gives a much better sense of the structure than a raw skull would. Until a more realistic reconstruction is performed, I can’t even be certain there’s all that much genuinely wrong here.
I’ll try to post more hyper-archaic early Africans in the future, if circumstance might permit.
Species: Homo sapiens & Canis lupus familiaris Specimens: Oberkassel 1, Oberkassel 2, Bonn-Oberkassel Dog Artists: Karol Schauer, Dario Koch, & Constanze Niess Source:Bodendenkmalpflege
I wasn’t exactly sure how best to credit this set of works, given the multitude of artists and the absence of clear credit to be found on one, but I thought I might as well get to work.
More properly known as the Bonn-Oberkassel Double Burial, dating 14,000 years old, I chose to make special reference to its third occupant, a puppy suffering from canine distemper. Perhaps the main reason I chose this as my next post. I’ve little interest in describing the details myself right now, so let’s talk art.
Karol Schauer’s painting of the three is probably my favorite of these, showing them all off in a good dynamic pose, giving a sense of how they might have seemed as living, breathing, human beings and their dog. The landscape painting, by Dario Koch, helps give a sense of their lifestyle and environment as well. They’re rather nice, I’d say.
So, onto the physical reconstructions of the two individuals by Constanze Niess, where my main interests lie, representing a closely related younger woman in her 20s and an older man in his mid 30s to 40s. The materials, unfortunately, are almost as far from lifelike as they get, rendering it more difficult to truly interpret these individuals as they would appear in life.
Comparisons were chosen with members of the modern population, but even then the resemblance is likely passing at best. If anything, it only highlights how far off the mark either reconstructions is from resembling an actually living person, rendering it difficult to distinguish what qualities derive from their likely anatomy and which from the materials utilized or the style and skill of the artist. Taking into account that these reconstructions are also likely quite outdated by now, I may make a few more posts on the Oberkassel remains in the future.
And now to the star of our post, the dog itself. Canines are very far from my area of expertise. The anecdote of its young age and illness, one it would likely never recover from, does say a certain something about the relation between us and our pets. The puppy wouldn’t have been useful, there wouldn’t be any practical purpose to caring for it, so it must have been truly loved and buried alongside its family after their own premature deaths.
None of that clearly shows in this reconstruction at all, so for the purpose of this post, it’s best not to dwell on it, as compelling as it might be.
I’m quite disappointed that I was entirely unable to track down the artist responsible, because it’s actually much higher quality than the human reconstructions in many ways. Though to my eyes it still strikes me as a bit off, it still gives something of a sense of an actual animal. I could easily imagine it in motion, alive and well even. And I think, through it, we can tie a closer line to our ancestors and their lives, their feelings and experiences, than we ever could without.
Strange to think this dog, taken terminally ill mere weeks into its life never to grow to maturity or live a full life, would linger on to be found and remembered millennia later. That it was cared for despite its condition, buried as a precious member of the family, and somehow still recalled to this day. It gives me a sense that perhaps no life is truly without meaning or value, and the impact we leave might be greater and more enduring than we might ever be able to imagine however feeble or useless one might think oneself.
Perhaps that’s a thought worth digesting properly.
Part of a set of eight reconstructions by the studio Wildlife Art, it actually took me a little while to track down precisely who created these, considering they reside in Germany’s museum of natural history. It can be a little difficult to gather information from foreign sources, though I do know a few interesting Chinese works I intend to post further down the line.
As for the work itself, I find the pigment choice quite curious, unusually dark for a Neanderthal reconstruction despite the relatively light eyes and hair, though I’ve seen this same mold with pale skin as well. Perhaps equally curious is the lack of facial hair, leaving the prominent jaws and mouth unobscured. The nose two is flatter than I’ve grown accustomed to. I feel it’s perhaps a little less lifelike than some of the others I’ve posted before, but perhaps not for any of the aforementioned reasons.
If I can find some good pictures of the rest of the set, I’ll try to get them to you all. Unfortunately, it’s unlikely I’ll find them all in one convenient location, so it may be awhile. Until then, expect whatever comes up as I dig through my unorganized backlog.
—The Curator
Species: Homo neanderthalensis Specimen: Unknown Artists: Wolfgang Schnaubelt & Nina Kieser Sources:N-TV, NYpost, Buzzfeed, Inverse
I posted a little of this fellow in an entries here, here, and here. Created for the BBC’s Prehistoric Autopsy, there were some who saw a resemblance to the famous actor Chuck Norris. Personally, I see the resemblance as slim at best, even taking into account caricature.
The pale ginger neanderthal is a matter I’ve criticized before for how weak the evidence really is compared to the sensationalized depictions, but sensationalizing is something of the norm in regard to the public consumption of science. The content of which says something about society and common trends people wish to push.
In popular science, it’s common to present red hair as a connection between modern Europeans and Neanderthals, but the truth is that no genetic variants that produce red hair in modern humans have ever been found in Neanderthals to this date. Add that up to the revelation about the Taiwanese aboriginals, and it becomes increasingly clear that this desire to present them as ancestors chiefly to European peoples is really just a matter of wishful thinking and geography, not grounded fact. They aren’t entirely without pigment reducing genes, of course, but those same genes are oft ignored in other reconstructions for different reasons I may go into in some later entry.
The reason for this is undoubtedly the redemption arc that’s been pushed for Neanderthals, to make them not so unlike “us”, as presented from a European perspective. I can’t rightly say that’s unexpected, nor does it really detract from the art. It’s just a point I like to reiterate and explain.
As for my personal thoughts, it’s not really my favorite work of his. Something to the face seems a bit off to me, and the glass eyes here are of lesser quality than his usual. I get the impression Deak may not have had the time to do his best work for Prehistoric Autopsy, as he certainly fixed himself up a superior model from the same mold at some later date. Still, it doesn’t seem to be the first or last time he’s re-used a mold.
That there is labeled accurately. A museum model based on Deak’s earlier La Ferrassie reconstruction, just as different from the other as ever. The materials also seem different from his usual, so some of the drop in quality could be related to what’s ideal for a museum model. I haven’t studied the materials myself, so don’t take that as an expert opinion.
I find it curious he retained that same scar on his forehead, despite the different paint style, hair texture, and so on. Perhaps it’s built into the mold itself, considering the lips are parted in just the same way. Still, it’s just another example of how just a few artistic choices can give off such a different impression. The fur coat’s a nice touch too, though I unfortunately don’t have any clear full body shots to show it off more clearly.
Still, the face has always been my main interest, so I’m quite happy to see that such good photos were taken of this one. It’s always frustrating to see a masterful reconstruction with only a few low resolution poor quality images from bad angles.
Well, I don’t really have much more to say here. In the meantime, you can enjoy my continuing work organizing the species gallery.
It’s been awhile, so I thought I’d update with a small collection I found of reconstructions made for the BBC’s Prehistoric Autopsy program, which I would quite recommend giving a watch should you find a means. They seem to be a little lower quality than some of his other models based on the same molds, as can be seen here, here, and here, but still quite good.
Unlike many reconstructions, these are full body models and so offer a more complete understanding of each specimen than the typical sculpture, though only Turkana Boy’s full sprinting form is clearly visible here.
With that said, it’s about time I got back to finishing up my species/specimen catalogue, so I’ll be working on that for now.
—The Curator
Artist: Viktor Deak Specimens: La Ferrassie 1, Lucy (A.L. 288-1), Turkana Boy (KNM-WT 15000) Source:Flickr
Close up shot of a bust of the Piltdown Man displaying an expression of curious disbelief.
I was planning to save some of this for April, but due to circumstance I felt now was the time to give you all a glimpse at the infamous Piltdown Man. Certainly the greatest and most well-known scandal in the history of paleoanthropology, and for good reason. As the combination of a Medieval skull cap and Orangutan jaw bone, the pieces couldn’t be more mismatched. What’s more, the scientists of that era certainly knew enough cranial anatomy to recognize that. I’ve caught glimpse of such critiques from that time, though I can’t currently locate them. Do note, I do not refer merely to the combination of ape and human characteristics, but rather that the growth of the jaw is not wholly separate from the rest of the skull.
In short, it was not some masterful hoax as some claim, and those scientists who were misled were misled because they wished to be. If there’s a lesson to be learned, it’s that even expert authorities upon a subject will often turn a blind eye to their better judgement and see only what they want to, and that may be even more the rule than exception in anthropology even if cases as egregious as Piltdown Man are rare.
There’s a common trend among many of the peoples of the world to seek to make their homeland the first, the origin of every great civilization or of humanity itself, and such is the petty truth of the matter here. The English wanted the first man and so failed to question it as they should. Such distortions continue to this day, not always in the same pattern but some still curiously similar. The “Archaic Homo” of China are one such example I intend to explore later.
As a sculptor, I must commend J.H. McGregor for doing a most excellent job here. It’s certainly a lifelike, if colorless, visage, but that’s almost the problem itself. When all the pieces are put together, the result is fairly mundane. In proportion and form, Piltdown Man approximates Homo sapiens. He looks very modern. Perhaps not English, but still very much a member of our species with maybe only a handful of truly unusual characteristics that can be seen, if even that. There are members of our species, not just among the fossilized, without an ape jaw swapped in that look more distinct than he.
What I mean to say is that Piltdown man is visually quite boring if the artist doesn’t actively seek to emphasize the few simian characteristics that stand out. All too easily, a reconstruction reveals the truth behind the fraud. Little else but a very modern looking human.
Now, that’s probably a wild title for you all. While I’m sure the resemblance to Vendramini’s Neanderthal is clear, one might find themselves asking what a “purple dawn of creation” even is. Well, that’s not exactly my field of interest, so I’d suggest checking out Mr. McLachlan’s website for answers there if you’re truly curious. Otherwise, all you need to know is that it’s a fairly niche theory of some forgotten age of the world, when Earth orbited Saturn and existed in a perpetual purple haze.
For whatever reason, quite unknown to myself, proponents of this theory are also fond of certain aspects of Danny Vendramini’s Super-Predator, and so it is just such a creature depicted here. A hairy, nocturnal, and utterly carnivorous Neanderthal with truly enormous eyes, all the better to see you with.
Not being any sort of reconstruction, so far as I am aware, it’s unlikely I would post these at any other time of the year. However, ’tis the season and I feel it’s more than appropriate, as a savage beast of nightmare stalking an eerie twilight dreamscape.
I can’t say I have no appreciation for the dynamic poses Troy has chosen here, every scene certainly paints a portrait of the monster. An ape loosely approximate to us in form, a creature with the intelligence to make sophisticated weaponry and put it to good use, one that embraces cooperative hunting, and yet is utterly unlike ourselves. Perhaps something more related to the notion of “convergent evolution” than true kin of ours, which we only mistake for a man out of wishful thinking and a lack of flesh.
As I’ve expressed before, it’s quite the entertaining notion even if you don’t buy a single word of it. There’s a clear fascination and pride in being human there, I think, and a question to how near a man an animal may be without being one. If advanced toolmaking isn’t it, than what is? Perhaps as a source of inspiration, you might ask yourself where you might draw the line.
Neanderthals with Auroch kill, Jill Holod July 2020
Now, Jill Holod’s take is somewhat different, presenting them less as savage ape-men and almost more as simple example of wildlife. These creatures do not snarl or roar, but merely watch with an uncanny stare and unreadable face. If anything, however, I find such an image all the more unnerving. Where Troy’s might be a monstrous mirror of man, Jill’s is a wholly alien and unrelatable existence.
I often compare paleo-reconstructions to a reflection of the artist, aspects of the familiar they seek in the past, but this is one polished surface that refuses to return even a hint of the recognizable. Where Holod draws the line between beast and man, she draws it sharp and clear.
Here, there is not even furrowed brow or snarl to which we might relate our own rage or aggression, but something strange and cold that turns us aside. Eyes that stare back without even a hint of familiarity, and certainly none of the cues we search for within those of our fellows. Even the mannerisms depicted seem wholly unlike the curiosity expected of one of us, but more akin to the alert posture of an animal. Strangely, I am put in mind of Meerkats.
Despite sharing a common root framework, the sheer difference just in interpretation is fascinating. Personally, I think I prefer Jill’s version as an expression of the truly inhuman. Something that avoids all of the marks of the classic killer ape, and yet seems far more at home dispassionately chewing on the still warm intestines of its yet living and anguishing prey as many predators are won’t to do.
Perhaps that’s something of an underexplored field of horror ready to be further defined, though it is not without its pioneers. A cold calculating competitor to ourselves, a rival for our niche perhaps more efficient and deadly by any obvious metric, and yet lacking in so many of the myriad aspects of human consciousness we so prize. A challenge, then, against which to prove the worth of the human soul.
At the very least, it’s not the worst idea to muck around with.
Having already shown off a little of O.D. Nilsson’s work, I thought I’d carry that momentum forward with a little something for you all. While not strictly a paleo-artist, or even primarily, he does some of the most lifelike reconstructions I’ve ever seen, and is an excellent resource for Upper Paleolithic and Mesolithic Homo sapiens. So take a look, if it’s no bother.
An assortment of faces, from left to right: Estrid Sigfastsdotter (11th century Sweden), the Granhammar man (bronze Age), Oscar Nilsson himself (modern day), Sir Winston Churchill (recent history), Avgi (Mesolithic Greece), Västerås man (16th century), Birger Jarl (13th century Sweden), the Patcham woman (210AD Britain), Huarmey Wari Queen (800AD Peru)
As a sample of his versatility, these really do show off his skill. Naturally, almost all of these are far more recent than actually suits my tastes, but don’t let that hold you back from appreciating them. I’ll be putting together a separate collection for the Mesolithic Greek girl Avgi later.
Reconstruction process of the face of a man from the Swiss town of Solothurn
Here, you can catch a glimpse of his process, and I do believe the results speak for themselves. Certainly, this is an excellent approximation of a living human with no notable flaws. Perhaps by specializing on Homo sapiens, he has managed to master the craft with a more well understood subject matter.
Estrid Sigfastsdotter (young girl), Stafford Road Man (500AD), Whitehawk Woman (Neolithic), Cro-Magnon 1 (40,000 years old), Ditchling Road Man (between 2,287BC and 2,215BC), Neanderthal woman (45,000 years ago)
Perhaps my favorite of these lot is his take on Cro-Magnon 1, a face I’d recognize anywhere, though the Ditchling Road Man has a certain charm. I would share a complaint in regard to the Whitehawk Woman, as Brighton Museums, the commissioner, claims her pigment should be close to someone from North Africa, the Southern Mediterranean, or the Near East, and those populations simply aren’t quite this dark as even a cursory google search would confirm. From their description, she should be at least a notable category paler than Cro-Magnon 1.
North African/Near Eastern sorts just don’t get the best treatment when it comes to reconstructions, it seems. I’ll almost certainly be sharing how pale Daynes made one of hers later, which manages to be quite a bit more egregious.
However, I digress. The chosen coloration for Cro-Magnon 1 is more than plausible, likely being a fairly accurate depiction of the man overall, give or take a few tumors. I do like how well-groomed his beard and hair are, as opposed to the wild manes we see in many depictions. His well-tailored furs help contribute to this overall dignified presentation as a respectable human being.
When it comes to the Neanderthal woman, however, I must note a certain apparent contradiction. She’s presented as being pale as the modern European, despite genetic studies revealing no such thing. Certainly, they do seem to have possessed a few pigment reduction alleles, but many of those were passed down to ancient modern Europeans as well. It seems odd to give such qualities special consideration in Neanderthals or even to exaggerate them, while ignoring them in ancient Homo sapiens or exaggerating things in the reverse.
Still, such is the state of the art, with all the current biases to be expected. It’s far from the worst place the field has ever been. Whatever my quibbles, there is no doubt Oscar Nilsson has done a wonderful job with what he’s been given.
I could write a lot about the oft-maligned Aquatic Ape theory, but I feel there are others far more qualified for that task. To sum it up simply, supporters claim many human adaptions can be explained by a semi-aquatic lifestyle, while detractors point to such as being wholly unnecessary given the existence of other factors that would spur on said developments.
Personally, I tend to think that the more things a trait is good for, the more positive selection it’ll be under. Even if a comfortable bipedal gait originally developed for long distance walking, if it helped with wading through water and made certain resources more accessible than that’s all the more it had going for it. We are better swimmers than Chimpanzees, and that has been a proven boon to our livelihoods in itself regardless of whatever other reasons may have contributed.
The piece itself isn’t quite a reconstruction. Though labeled as “Homo habilis”, this appears to primarily just be an imaginative depiction of a primitive hominin with semi-aquatic features. Primarily the hairless blue-grey rubbery skin with a distinct fatty layer, as well a more developed nose which might aid in keeping water out.
Overall, this is a very simple, almost sterile, image with little in the way of detail. Just an ape man standing in a pristine sea. Though interesting and alien in its own way, it almost more leaves me wondering why there are not more depictions of such “Aquatic Apes”.
I suppose, just as with hairy Neanderthals, there are surprisingly few artists in the field who would care to bother with the more farfetched conceptualizations. In that regard, this image is perhaps a precious treasure, an inspiration for all the mermaids and mermen that might ever swim about in your heads.
The Early Man Gallery 
