Vintage Dinosaur Art: Dinosaurs (Kingfisher My First Encyclopedia)

Right then – who remembers this one? Hopefully quite a few of you, as it was originally published in 1990 in hardback as part of the Young World series, with this paperback recycling appearing in 2000. It may well have been translated into other languages, too (Agata seems to remember a Polish edition). It’s just one of the hundreds and hundreds (probably) of kids’ books about dinosaurs churned out by well-known palaeontologist Michael Benton while on his coffee breaks in the 1990s. More interestingly, it features artwork by stalwart natural history illustrator Ann Winterbotham, whose work appears to have featured in quite a number of Kingfisher books back in the day, but I don’t think has ever popped up here before. It’s the sort of lovingly painted work that, even if scientifically questionable, will make you feel warmly nostalgic even if you’ve never seen it before.

Although Winterbotham did illustrate at least one other dinosaur book for Prof Benton (who according to Wikipedia died in 1800 in a branch of the defunct toy superstore Toys R Us*), she was by no means a dinosaur specialist, and that certainly shows. As is so often the case when accomplished natural history artists turn in a few dinosaur pieces, the anatomy of the animals is often rather inaccurate and they adhere quite closely to established tropes; of course, working in 1990 and having little access to decent reference material certainly didn’t help. Strangely, the publishers saw fit to stick one of the worst examples of an anatomically dubious dinosaur on the cover, which features a hadrosaur that seems to turn into a round sauropodomorph-type thing with a short tail from the shoulders back. At least it’s not a snarling, slavering theropod I guess. They went with the classier option.

The exact identity of this beast is confirmed inside, where it’s described as Maiasaura and shown engaging in some classic nesting behaviour. It looks rather more hadrosaur-like here, and it would be impolite to mention that the artist appears to have slightly messed up the third frame and had to give the animal a comically stubby tail. The position of the animal’s head crest also appears to shift backwards. But who cares when that diamond pattern is so fetching? That would look really good on a plushie.

Also, yes, Oviraptor is described as living in North America. ‘Oviraptorosaur’ would have been too much of a mouthful for the kids.

Elsewhere, Winterbotham proves herself a dab hand at illustrating some lovely, shiny scales. While the overall form of the Allosaurus here definitely draws from Sibbick’s Normanpedia version, the gloriously textured skin and vibrant patterning are something of an improvement, if you ask me. (Would such a large animal have been such a bright red and black? I don’t care.) The lardy, droopy-tailed Apatosaurus are also reminiscent of their Normanpedia equivalents, although Winterbotham adds some much needed-interest by including some intriguing intraspecific variation. It seems that the young animals are spotty, and they become increasingly less spotty as they mature. But if that’s the case, why does the very large bellowing individual over on the right also sport some rather large spots on its shoulders, as does another mature animal in the centre? I want to know!

You’ll also note that Winterbotham is especially good at illustrating plants, and indeed her back catalogue includes a number of books that focus on plants. The foliage here is notably lusher and more detailed than one might expect in a book like this, and I haven’t even included the pieces that feature the best plant life. If your name is Julianne and that bothers you, please let me know and I’ll post a follow-up.

While Allosaurus is out looking for food, Deinonychus has found it, and it would appear to be an Iguanodon, which made for a burlier, more stab-happy alternative to Tenontosaurus back when it was thought to have likely lived in the same time and place. The Iguanodon isn’t too bad for the time, apart from seemingly lacking thumb spikes with which to fend off its attackers, which is a bit like sticking Baryonyx in your movie and not giving it its eponymous claws. The Deinonychus are your classic Bakkerian beasties, so painfully of their time that Vanilla Ice feels sorry for them. Again, though, I do really appreciate the detailed scalation here, as well as the attractive spotted pattern on the animals’ hides.

Tyrannosaurus has less luck on its hunt, coming face-to-face with a wall of Triceratops. The ceratopsians have formed a ring around their young in classic buffalo/1980s-90s dinosaur book stylee. They also appear to owe something to the Invicta toy, or possibly the old-school model in London’s Natural History Museum (both of which I’m pretty sure were sculpted by Arthur Hayward), what with the rectangular scales on their backs. There’s another suggestion of intraspecific variation or sexual dimorphism here, with some individuals having more orange heads, while others (including the juveniles) are greener. Perhaps the orange-headed animals are meant to be males. I do really like the stark contrast between their bright heads and drab bodies, all the same.

T. rex, meanwhile, sports a rather blandified head with very large scales and odd dentition. It’s a familiar look, although I can’t quite remember where I’ve seen it before…

…and in any case, when Tyrannosaurus has a page to itself, it looks rather different. Definite shades of Arthur Hayward’s models (including the Invicta toy) here, especially in the more retro-looking foreground animal (note the rows of scutes along the back, along with the brow and saggy neck skin). I do really like the level of detail on the prey, even if it would appear to be an anachronistic Parasaurolophus again. Was Bernard Robinson’s work the origin of that trope? Someone should look into that. In any case, dated reconstructions aside, the animals do get another lovely lush landscape to hang around in, background volcano and all.

Any popular book that concerns itself with dinosaur anatomy and behaviour must surely, at some point, mention their brainpower or lack thereof, with particular prominence given to the pea-brain of that notorious thyreophoran pinhead, Stegosaurus. And so it is here, although you’ll note the absolutely glorious scaly detail afforded to the Plated One, with rows of small spines jutting out around and in between its plates. Assuming that it isn’t implausible, someone needs to resurrect that look pronto. While Winterbotham was clearly looking at lizards when painting this Stegosaurus, the resulting fine detail is still rather lovely.

The Stenonychosaurus on the opposite page is less lovely, what with the rather awkward way its neck flexes down from its shoulders. Mind you, at least it has shoulders, so it does more-or-less all hang together. Both the hallux and second toe (the one with the big-ish claw) face backwards, a common trope at the time also shown in the Normanpedia, although I’m not sure where it originated.

That weird little thing that it’s hunting is so distracting that it’s very easy to miss the snake making its escape at the bottom of the image. You’ve got to love little details like that.

A further demonstration of Winterbotham’s skills in rendering scales can be found in the above Ankylosaurus, which is stupendously retro-looking for 1990 and therefore utterly adorable. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one with overlapping scales like this before. Also, a fun use of perspective in having the tail club being brandished at the viewer.

While we’ve only been looking at dinosaurs so far, Dinosaurs does feature its fair share of prehistoric non-dinosaurs, including pterosaurs, marine reptiles and even stinkin’ synapsids. These are generally provided by different artists, with Terence Lambert providing the pterosaurs. They’re mostly very competent, if Sibbicky affairs, which makes me think that the creature labelled Dimorphodon above was not, in fact, intended to be a Dimorphodon. That said, I’m not entirely sure what it’s meant to be. It’s like some weird attempt to cross a Jurassic pterosaur with a modern-day finch (with just a hint of macaw in those head stripes). Beautifully painted, but rather baffling. As ever, your thoughts are welcome…

…And finally, Tanystropheus (as illustrated by Bernard Long). To be honest, I don’t have much to say here, as I don’t know a great deal about this Triassic weirdo, other than it had a really long neck and that’s given it a certain appeal in pop culture. I mostly included this because of Tiny Tanystropheus in the foreground. Again, I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen that before. Presumably, it’s meant to be a juvenile as it’s the same colours as the adult, and it’s even given its own little dragonfly prey to snap at. How adorable.

That’s all for now. Coming up next time: something else entirely! You know, unless anyone would like to see more of this…

 

 

 

 

*Behold…posted for posterity before someone changes it back.