From Fossil To Flesh; Reconstructing Phascolotherium.

By Alexandra Rose Cherrett

I was sitting at my studio desk ready to start the day with some admin. I often receive emails enquiring about commissions ranging from peoples’ pets to wild animals that have been found by the public, asking for them to be preserved after death through taxidermy. At the top of my inbox was an email with an “unusual proposal” from the Museum of Natural History in Oxford.

As a taxidermist I have been lucky enough to work on a wide range of animals over my short career, from kingfishers to vultures, hedgehogs to lemurs and many more in-between. Safe to say I was not expecting the request to taxidermy an animal that hasn’t walked the earth for 165 million years.

I was then introduced to Phascolotherium; a small, furry mammal that lived in the Mid Jurassic alongside Megalosaurus, the first dinosaur ever named and discovered, right here in Oxford, UK. A proverbial stone’s throw from the Natural History Museum itself.

Now, I have always been rather obsessed with dinosaurs. My obsession and adoration for dinosaurs and wildlife has been evenly matched for as long as I can remember. Suddenly I found my Jurassic Park dreams were coming to life. An impossible task? I thought, “Life, uh…finds a way”.

The first challenge was that only the jawbone and teeth of Phascolotherium had ever been discovered. I was given a reference image by Paleo artist, Julius Csotonyi, from which I primarily  worked.

It was rodent-like in nature, with an elongated head, a lithe body and a long, plumed tail. My first thought was to use a squirrel as the base as the limb structure and body shape were so similar. I knew I had a pair of juvenile grey squirrels in my freezer that could be the perfect size, one was donated as a cat kill and the other perished at a wildlife rescue.

The most obvious visual changes were the colouration. The artworks showed a body of a dark reddish hue, with patches of white on the face, stomach and tip of the tail and stripes stemming down the spine. My next step of course, was Boots. A few boxes of Garnier hair dyes and peroxide bleach later and I had a completely different animal skin laid out on my desk.

My next process was to create the body form over which the skin would be fitted. For mammal taxidermy, I usually carve or cast a head out of balsa wood or PU foam and make a bind up copy of the body and limb shape from woodwool.

With the head essentially being a non-existent shape, I copied the paleo-art and carved a small balsa block to a similar shape as a large shrew. The body was very similar to the young squirrel already so that was a simple workaround.

With the nature of its surroundings and the looming Megalosaurus, I imagined this creature was indeed, always on the run. So, an action pose was created, mid run, which highlighted its slight build and balancing tail very nicely.

When dressing the skin, the biggest alteration was the eye and ear placement. The young squirrel had eyes around 8mm, whereas Phascolotherium measured in at 4mm. Not to mention they were set further back and lower, as were the ears at two thirds their original size and shape. I made an incision across the eyelid and manipulated the skin to fit its new size and position, copying the same methodology for the ears. Almost instantly, a face that hadn’t been seen for 165 million years was right there looking back at me.

Me with the completed Phascolotherium

I have been fortunate enough to work with the Oxford University Natural History Museum on a few projects now and it’s safe to say this project has been one of my biggest challenges and greatest pleasures to date.

www.alexandrarosetaxidermy.co.uk

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A Botanical Journey In Time

By Inese Veismane

I remember the exact moment I saw the message from the Museum of Natural History. I had just returned home from a trip, switched my phone back on after the flight, and there it was – waiting for me to jump into the unknown. It came at a time when my personal life was shifting in a difficult direction, and in an unexpected way, this project became something that held me steady.

My work usually lives in the botanical world – delicate flowers, soft forms and colours, artsy details ­– so stepping into a space shaped by scientific accuracy and unfamiliar subjects felt like entering a new landscape. This time, I was asked to create not only plants but organisms like worms, including the intricate and challenging Christmas tree worms.

The commission began in 2023, and from the very start, it was clear that this would be a different kind of creative process. Instead of observing a living plant or working from my own references, I was guided by scientific material provided by the museum. There was a responsibility to honour not just the visual beauty of each subject but also its structure, proportions, dimensions, and defining characteristics.

I work with air-dry clay, building each form slowly by hand. My process is intuitive but also very attentive – I spend time studying botanical forms and shapes and then transforming that into something tangible. With these models, I had to balance that intuitive, artistic approach with careful observation. It became a dialogue between art and science.

Working on the early plants became one of the most interesting parts of the project. Recreating species like Asteroxylon mackiei, Rhynia, and Cooksonia felt like reaching into a distant past. These are plants that no longer exist, known only through scientific study and careful reconstruction. There was something deeply humbling in shaping them by hand – giving form to something that once lived hundreds of millions of years ago. It felt like a journey back in time. I had to rely entirely on references and guidance while still allowing the forms to come alive through my own interpretation.

One of the most meaningful parts of this creative process has been witnessing the transformation of each piece – from a simple beginning to something that holds presence and detail. I also find importance in sharing these stages on my social media. It creates a sense of continuity – an archive of the work that can be returned to over time.

Looking back, this experience has expanded the way I see my work. It reminded me that even when we step outside of what feels familiar, the essence of creating remains the same: to pay attention, to be patient, and to trust that something will slowly take shape.

There is also something special in knowing that these handmade models will live within the Museum and become a part of a much larger story – held in a space where art and science meet.

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See more of Inese’s work at: www.instagram.com/cooleblumen/

Presenting ‘Life, As We Know It’ 

What a ride! It’s been about seven years in the making, but we have just put the finishing touches to our major redisplay project – Life, as we know it – which fully opened last week. If you haven’t been to the Museum in a while, now is a great time to come. 

I have been lucky enough to have worked on this project from the very beginning, but the achievement is that of many, many people across the Museum and beyond. Over the coming weeks we are going to share, on this blog, stories from some of the skilled people who made it happen: model-makers, artists, scientists, set-builders, designers, animators, conservators – the list goes on and on. 

The video above gives a taster of all this. For those of us involved, it is also a nice trip down memory lane. How did we find and pin hundreds of arthropods in rings of concentric size, all presided over by a gigantic Japanese Spider Crab? Whose idea was it to suspend an articulated dinosaur upside down, sinking to its final resting place? 

To be able to step back now and see all the new displays together is a real treat. Between them, the 48 new showcases, containing 24 new displays, show us specimen-led examples of how the natural world works, taking in big ideas in evolution, ecosystems, biodiversity, and the history of the planet. 

Thanks to everyone who has worked on what is the biggest single redisplay in the Museum’s 165-year history. We hope you enjoy it as much as we have! 

By Scott Billings, Life, As We Know It Redisplay Project Manager

‘Deadly Six’ deinstall

Bethany Milne from the Museum’s Visitor Experience team has spent some time working alongside the Exhibitions team to deinstall a temporary art exhibition. She has reflected on the day – what she enjoyed and what she learnt along the way.

The deinstall of the Museum’s Deadly Six art installation is my first introduction into the world of exhibitions and an exciting one to start with. I have seen the display since it was first installed in September 2024 and I began working at the museum, watching it on my patrols of the court to make sure it stays intact and safe from all the little hands that pass through our doors every day. I didn’t imagine what it would be like to touch them myself until I found out I had the opportunity to join the team in taking them down.

On September 8th I came into the museum at 8:30am to shadow the exhibitions team as a development day. Most of the staff and contractors were already there and so I started by talking to the Head of Exhibitions, Rachel, about what needed to be done. She showed me her schedule of the day, starting at 8am, going through to 5pm, in which we would derig all the sculptures and get them set up safely out of the public areas and into storage. After, I helped set up hoarding to keep the aisle where the work was being done secluded, as the museum would be open to the public as usual around us. This aspect was an interesting learning opportunity for me as I have no earlier experience with the manual labour aspect of the work, but I enjoyed being hands-on.

As I was doing this, the team from Outback Rigging worked on carefully lowering the suspended works to the ground and to our surprise; the take down was ahead of schedule. Most of them were removed by the middle of the day and these ones were simple to move. This was interesting to me as they seem so delicate, being large structures made of woven willow, but they proved sturdier than I thought. However, some were more difficult to take down than others, including the COVID sculpture. This was the most difficult to get down to the storage space, due to its intricate structure and its large size. Too wide to take down the stairs we usually use, Rachel organized with the Pitt Rivers to take it through their door, along the road and back into the Museum of Natural History through another door! What made this procedure more complicated was the sculpture itself, as its round construction meant there were no handholds. Luckily, the artist Issy Wilkes created some by looping some zip ties through the metal frame and, learning from the setup of the exhibition, used foam sheets to wrap around these painful to hold ties, to make the journey even easier. I felt it was an extremely rewarding process when we were finally able to put it down, as it required a lot of teamwork and shimmying about corridors to make it – I was very relieved we were able to keep it in one piece.

As the day went on and the sculptures were down and put away safely, I began to do smaller, but equally important tasks. The works themselves weren’t the only part of the exhibition, so I aided in removing the signage that was in the aisle that explained the meaning of each part. We also moved these down to the storage room, out of the way of the surrounding visitors and I began the task of removing the labels from inside. Another small step was vacuuming the sculptures. Despite regular conservation cleaning, hanging up in the court for so long had meant they had accumulated a lot of dust, which had to be cleaned out before they moved to their next home. These tasks were ones I wouldn‘t have thought of before the experience, but I realise that the smaller aspects are just as important as the larger ones when it comes to taking care of the exhibitions. It is our job to not only display the works as best we can, honouring their artistic intent and presenting to the audience in a way they understand, but this experience showed me how important the after care is, ensuring that they are well maintained to carry on their purpose and that the museum is returned to its original state.

Dr Ross Anderson climbs a steep, green slope surrounded by pine trees and dramatic mountain scenery.

Oxford team’s fieldwork revealing how complex life first evolved on Earth 

By Ross Anderson

In Summer 2024, a team of palaeontologists and geologists from the University of Oxford, along with colleagues from Dartmouth College, the University of Washington, and Williams College in the USA, undertook an expedition to the Little Dal Group in the Mackenzie Mountains, Northwest Territories, Canada. Our purpose was to uncover some of the oldest fossil ecosystems that record complex life.

Complex life comprises all organisms whose DNA is enclosed in a cell nucleus. This includes animals and plants but excludes bacteria. Today, this complex life accounts for most of the Earth’s biomass, documented biodiversity, and oxygen production. Understanding when and how it first evolved remains one of the central unanswered questions in evolutionary biology.

As palaeontologists, we normally use fossils to reveal the history of life. Fossils tend to preserve larger animals with hard shells or skeletons—creatures such as trilobites, ammonites, dinosaurs, and mammoths. However, the first complex organisms were microscopic and lacked such hard parts. As a result, their soft and fragile cells rarely fossilised. Put simply, we have found it a major challenge to trace the origins of complex life with fossils.

I have argued that finding rocks made up of antibacterial clay minerals holds the key. These minerals can slow the decay of organic cells long enough for them to survive as fossils. The Little Dal Group contains ~900-million-year-old rocks that are rich in just such clays, making it a prime target for new fossils that might help us unravel the origins of biological complexity.

I was joined in Canada by my DPhil student, George Wedlake, from the Department of Earth Sciences. Together we spent two weeks collecting over 100 rock samples. The samples record an ancient tropical sea not unlike the Bahamas today, where early complex life likely flourished.

Back in Oxford, at the Museum of Natural History, George and I are now examining the samples; dissolving the rocks with hydrofluoric acid to extract and study the tiny fossils. We hope these new fossils will transform our understanding of how complex life first took hold on our planet.

Our fieldwork was funded by a Royal Society University Research Fellowship and by the Oxford NERC Environmental Science Doctoral Training Partnership. It was conducted under permit and with the support of the Sahtú Dene people.

A monochrome, three-dimensional rendering of a new, yet undescribed species of Achilidae (Hemiptera: Fulgoromorpha), preserved in Miocene Dominican amber (~15 million years old).

Amber Time Capsules and the Synchrotron’s X-Ray Vision

Imagine a drop of ancient resin. Inside is an insect, trapped for 53 million years, so well preserved it looks like it might twitch back into life. These amber fossils offer us a breathtaking glimpse into long vanished ecosystems. But there’s a catch: the most revealing details, like delicate mouthparts or microscopic genitalia, are sealed away under the resin’s glossy surface. Cutting into them would destroy what makes them precious.

Enter the SOLEIL synchrotron.

At SOLEIL, near Paris, a group of researchers led by OUMNH’s own Dr Corentin Jouault are preparing to shine one of the world’s brightest X-ray beams through over 100 blocks of Oise amber, each containing a fossilised insect no larger than a fingernail. The goal is to see inside without cracking them open. Using a technique called in-line phase-contrast synchrotron microtomography (a bit of a mouthful, so let’s call it “supercharged 3D X-rays”), the team hopes to reveal anatomy invisible to conventional CT scanners. Think of it as upgrading from grainy black-and-white TV to ultra-high-definition.

The impressive imaging setup of the ANATOMIX beamline at SOLEIL Synchrotron. In the foreground, a rotating platform holds the amber sample in the path of the X-ray beam, turning it a full 360° so that hundreds of 2D X-ray images can be captured from every angle. In the background are the scintillators, which transform invisible X-rays into visible light, and above them, the high-resolution camera that records these images. All the data are then processed by powerful computers to reconstruct a detailed 3D model of the fossil trapped in amber.

Dr Corentin Jouault carefully positioning a piece of Eocene Oise amber (approximately 53 million years old, from France), containing an undescribed extinct ant species, mounted on a scanning electron microscope stub, in front of the X-ray beam for a high-resolution scan (pixel size ≈ 1.3 μm).

Why does this matter? Well, these insects lived during the Early Eocene, around 53 million years ago, when flowering plants had taken over the world in what scientists call the Angiosperm Terrestrial Revolution (ATR). This upheaval transformed landscapes and diets alike, and insects, already an evolutionary success story, had to adapt. Some lineages thrived by exploiting new blooms, while others dwindled. By studying the fine details of insect mouthparts, researchers can track how feeding strategies shifted in tandem with the rise of flowers.

The plan is ambitious. Each piece of amber will be scanned in full at a resolution fine enough to spot features a few micrometres across (a micrometre is one-thousandth of a millimetre — about one-hundredth the width of a human hair). 20 chosen specimens will then be magnified further still for an even sharper look, down to less than half a micrometre per pixel. In other words, one pixel will cover an area 140 times smaller than the thickness of a human hair.

Three-dimensional renderings of a new, yet undescribed species of Achilidae (Hemiptera: Fulgoromorpha), preserved in Miocene Dominican amber (~15 million years old). The specimen was scanned at the SOLEIL Synchrotron (ANATOMIX beamline) using Synchrotron X-ray microtomography (SR-μCT). A. Habitus, ventral view. B. Habitus, dorsal view. (© Ancheng Peng & Corentin Jouault)

The resulting datasets will therefore be enormous, so the team has lined up banks of high-powered computers and even machine-learning tools to speed up the laborious task of reconstructing the fossils in 3D.

What emerges won’t just be pretty pictures. These models could rewrite parts of insect evolutionary history. For example, they may uncover the earliest records of certain insect families, refine the timeline of insect diversification, and provide the raw data needed to estimate how extinction and speciation rates shifted during the ATR. In short, these pieces of amber become not just a window into the past, but a testbed for some of the biggest questions in evolutionary biology.

And there’s a democratic twist: all the scans, reconstructions, and 3D models will be made freely available in open repositories. That means anyone, from entomologists to curious hobbyists, could spin, zoom, and explore these ancient insects in digital space.

So, next time you spot an insect hovering around a flower, think of its ancestors locked in amber, their secrets now teased out by beams of light brighter than the sun. The synchrotron doesn’t just illuminate fossils, it illuminates how deep the ties between bugs and blooms really go.