Following the completion of our Life, As We Know It redisplay project earlier this year, we are taking a look at some of the exceptionally skilled people who helped to bring it all together. In this article, taxidermist Alexandra Rose Cherrett tells us about the ‘unusual proposal’ that she received one day…
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 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.
Initial paleo art reference by Julius CsotonyiTanned squirrel skin ready to colourWashed and dried after the first set of bleach and dye
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.
The wrapped body and carved head over which the skin will be fittedTest fit around the eyes and ears. A new face takes shape!
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 Museum of Natural History 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.
The finished piece of taxidermy.Phascolotherium in the wild!
Following the completion of our Life, As We Know It redisplay project earlier this year, we are taking a look at some of the exceptionally skilled people who helped to bring it all together. In this article, model maker Inese Veismane recalls some of the weird and wonderful extinct plants that we needed for our new displays…
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.
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.
Photo: Robert GillPhoto: Robert Gill
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.
Photo: Robert GillPhoto: Robert Gill
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.
Photo: Robert GillPhoto: Robert Gill
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.
Photo: Robert GillPhoto: Robert Gill
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.
CELEBRATING THE RECENT ACQUISITION OF AN IMPORTANT ARCHIVE
By Danielle Czerkaszyn, Librarian and Archivist and Grace Exley, AHRC Doctoral Student
200 years since the first scientific description of a dinosaur, the Museum has welcomed a significant archival collection relating to the man who introduced us to Megalosaurus, William Buckland (1784-1856). The archive contains over 1,000 items including letters, notebooks, family papers, prints, and artworks. It joins the Museum’s existing Buckland archive, as well as more than 4,000 geological specimens, and helps fill in the knowledge gaps surrounding the life and work of Oxford’s first Reader in Geology and Mineralogy. Not only is there the potential to learn more about Buckland’s early life as a student at Christ Church, there is also material relating to the wider Buckland family, including his son, the zoologist Francis Trevelyan Buckland, and wife, the naturalist Mary Buckland (née Morland, 1797-1857).
Among the 70 letters in the archive that are addressed to Mary, there is correspondence from chemist William Wollaston, Scottish polymath Mary Somerville, and a lively letter from John Ruskin, explaining to Mary his disgust at all things marine:
“I dont [sic] doubt that those double natured or no-natured salt water things are very pretty alive, but they disgust me by their perpetual gobbling and turning themselves inside out and on the whole I think for purple and rose colour & pretty shape, I may do well enough with convolvulus’s [sic] & such things which dont [sic] eat each other up, backwards & forwards all day long.”
Ruskin was clearly teasing his friend, as molluscs happened to be Mary’s specialist subject!
Mary Buckland’s notebook, recently acquired by OUMNH
The collection also contains two sketchbooks belonging to Mary, one of which dates from June 1817, seven years before her marriage to William and contains exquisite ink and watercolour illustrations of natural history specimens.
Illustration of Megalosaurus type fossil by Mary Morland, used in the original 1824 description of the species.Fulgurite, or, as Mary called it a ‘vitrified sand tube’. These form when lightning strikes the ground, particularly sandy surfaces. Similar examples are present in the remains of Mary’s mineral collection, held by OUMNH.
The sketchbook gives us a rare glimpse into how a nineteenth-century woman learned about natural history. The book contains copied passages from natural history texts, enabling us to trace what Mary was reading. Her interests spanned geology and mineralogy, and she also included pieces on zoological curiosities and even polar exploration. She read and copied extracts from a variety of sources, some of which – George Shaw’s Zoological Lectures, for example – were intended to suit a lay-audience (as Shaw put it, intended as a “familiar discourse with Lady-Auditors”). However, other elements of her reading were probably never intended for a woman like Mary — she also copied passages from the Transactions of the Geological Society even though women could not join as Fellows until 1919. As archival materials relating to women are often sparse, this is a truly rare and incredibly valuable insight into how Mary used her connections to access resources and the techniques she used to teach herself about natural history.
Perhaps the most striking feature of the notebook is its intricate, exquisite illustrations. These, done in watercolour, ink, and pencil, are reproductions of the figures from the works Mary copied out. A favourite in the sketchbook is the “Canadian Jumping Mouse”, a long-tailed rodent described in a piece in the Transactions of the Linnaean Society by Major General Thomas Davies in 1797. There are also many representations of molluscs (detailed enough to repulse Ruskin), mineral specimens, and occasional fold-out geological sections. As we flick through the book, we can see Mary experimenting with media and techniques — not only developing as an artist but also honing her skills as a scientific illustrator.
The skills and knowledge Mary developed in her natural history notebook were crucial to her later collaboration with William, as well as her own independent work as a draughtswoman before her marriage. In 1824, when Buckland presented the jaw of Megalosaurus to the Geological Society, it was “M. Morland” who provided the painstakingly detailed plates. Research has begun to uncover the extent of Mary’s work as a naturalist and illustrator, and now, with the help of the materials in the newly acquired archive, we can explore the origins of her skills. The archive is currently in the hands of a Paper Conservator, Anna Español Costa, to ensure the material is kept in the best condition for many years to come. Items from the archive will feature in the Breaking Ground exhibition, opening in October 2024.
Our fundraising campaign saw us receive generous support from the National Heritage Memorial Fund, Arts Council England/V&A Purchase Grant Fund, Friends of the National Libraries, Headley Trust, and other private donors. Additionally, in late 2022, we launched the Buckland Papers Appeal, asking members of the public to help us meet our target to purchase the archive. Thank you to all our funders and members of the public who responded to our call. We could not have raised the money so quickly without your support and we are now thrilled to share the archive with you all.
LEARNING ABOUT ANCIENT FASHION FROM NATURAL HISTORY COLLECTIONS
By Ella McKelvey, Web Content and Communications Officer
Tucked in a display case in the southwest corner of the Museum is a sculpture of an unidentified female figure, small enough to fit in your coat pocket. It is a replica of one of the most important examples of Palaeolithic artwork ever discovered; a 25,000-year-old carving known as the Venus of Willendorf. The Venus of Willendorf is one of several Palaeolithic statues found in Europe or Asia believed to depict female deities or fertility icons. Known collectively as the Venus Figurines, the carvings are similar in size and subject matter, but each has her own peculiarities. Many are naked, but some of the later examples are wearing distinctive garments, clothes we might describe today as ‘snoods’ or ‘bandeaux’. The Venus of Willendorf is easily distinguished by her statement headpiece; perhaps a spiralling hair-braid or ceremonial wig. But there is another, more exciting interpretation — this strange, thimble-like adornment might actually represent a woven fibre cap, making it the oldest ever depiction of human clothing.
The ‘Venus of Willendorf’ is known for the distinctive markings on her head. Are these the oldest representation of human clothing ever discovered?A cast of the ‘Venus of Willendorf’ is on display in the ‘Ancient Toolmakers’ case in OUMNH.
The Venus Figurines are incredibly important to the study of human fashion because they significantly predate any direct archaeological evidence of ancient clothing. The oldest surviving garment dates back an astonishing 5,000 years; an exceptionally-preserved linen shirt discovered in an Egyptian tomb. But our species, Homo sapiens, has a much longer history, perhaps up to a quarter of a million years. How much of this time have we spent wearing clothing? And why did we even begin to dress ourselves in the first place?
By comparing human genes to those of our furrier primate relatives, researchers have been able to estimate that modern humans lost their body hair around 240,000 years ago. A mutation in a gene called KRTHAP1 likely led to a decrease in our production of the protein keratin, the building block of hair. The exact reason why this mutation spread through the population is still up for speculation. One commonly held theoryis that, with less body hair, our ancestors could sweat and tolerate higher temperatures, allowing them to expand their habitats from sheltered forests into sun-drenched savannahs. But at some stage, our ancestors started covering their skin again — leaving us to wonder when nakedness became a nuisance.
An intriguing clue about the circumstances that led to the adoption of clothing has come from studying the DNA of our parasites — namely, clothing lice. In 2010, researchers used genetic sequencing to determine that clothing lice split from their ancestral group, head lice, between 170,000 and 83,000 years ago. When compared with genetic data from our own species, we can begin to weave a story about the origins of clothing that ties in with human migration. Gene sequencing has helped us work out that Homo sapiens originated in Africa but must have begun migrating towards Europe between 100,000 and 50,000 years ago, a window which overlaps neatly with the evolution of clothing lice. Is it possible that clothing lice are a consequence of the widespread adoption of clothing; a result of humans migrating into more northerly latitudes with cooler temperatures?
Sharp-eyed visitors can spot body lice on display on the First Floor of the Museum.Studying the divergence of clothing lice and body lice allows us to estimate that humans have been wearing clothes for 170,000 years.
Curiously, there are indications in the archaeological record that human clothing could date to an even earlier stage in our species’ history than the expansion of humans into Europe. In 2021, researchers uncovered 120,000-year-old bones from a cave in Morocco believed to be used to process animal hides. There is a strong possibility that humans would have used these tools to make wearable items out of hunted animals, including blankets, cloaks, or perhaps more structured garments.
It seems likely that the first clothes humans made from hides were loose-fitting capes or shawls, which may have been more important for protection or camouflage than keeping warm. There are numerous reasons why other animals cover themselves with foreign objects besides thermoregulation. ‘Decorating’ behaviours occur in animals as diverse as crabs, birds, and insects, allowing them to disguise themselves from predators, or protect themselves from UV radiation. While early humans might have only needed simple clothing items to aid with disguise, as the climate began cooling 110,000 years ago, cloaks probably wouldn’t have cut it; our species must have learned how to make multi-layered and closer-fitting garments to maintain high enough body temperatures. Archaeology provides a similar estimate for the adoption of constructed garments, based on the discovery of 75,000-year-old stone awls — tools used for puncturing holes in hides to prepare them to be sewn together.
Homo sapiens‘ ability to make complex clothing items may have helped give our ancestors a competitive edge over the Neanderthals in Europe. Researchers have studied sub-fossil material in museum collections to learn about the changing distributions of European mammals throughout human history, allowing them to deduce that Neanderthals only had access to large animals like bison to make cape-like clothing from. But, in addition to bison, Homo sapiens lived alongside other, fluffier animals like wolverines during the last Ice Age, which could have been hunted to make warm trims for our clothing. Studies like these are highly speculative, but with such a threadbare archaeological record, they contribute valuable insight into the landscapes of ancient Europe.
Museum collections can teach us about the species that lived alongside humans in ancient Europe. Homo sapiens and Homo neanderthalis might have used the hides of species like bison to make clothes.On display in the Ancient Toolmakers case are bone needles from the Placard Cave, around 17,000 years old. But huans may have been sewing clothes for much longer, perhaps 75,000 years.
The Neanderthals might have been less well-dressed than our Homo sapiens ancestors, but we can’t be certain that humans of our own species were the only prehistoric fashionistas. The oldest sewing needle to have ever been discovered dates to 50,000 years before present and was actually found in a cave associated with Denisovans — a group of extinct hominins we know little about. The Denisovans may be an extinct subspecies of Homo sapiens, but they might also have formed an entirely separate species altogether, perhaps learning how to sew independently of modern humans.
Following the invention of sewing was another crucial innovation in the history of human clothing — the ability to make textiles. In 2009, a group of researchers discovered 36,000-year-old evidence of textile-based clothing in the form of microscopic flax plant fibres that had been dyed and twisted together. There are many potential uses of twisted fibres such as these, but scientists have been able to study the organisms associated with the fibres, finding the remains of skin beetles, moth larvae, and fungal spores that are all commonly associated with modern clothing. Humans do not simply fashion clothes, we also fashion microhabitats, capable of supporting organisms as diverse as insects, fungi, and bacteria.
The discovery that humans have been making textiles into clothing for 36,000 years lends credence to the theory that the Venus of Willendorf is wearing a woven cap — but we might never be able to draw any certain conclusions about such an ancient artefact. Until just ninety years ago, humans could only make textiles from biodegradable materials, meaning that we have very little evidence about the clothing that our ancient ancestors wore. Thankfully, however, the story of human fashion is closely interwoven with the natural histories of hundreds of other species, allowing us to stitch together a patchwork history, utilising evidence from all corners of the kingdom of life.
“In all works on Natural History, we constantly find details of the marvellous adaptation of animals to their food, their habits, and the localities in which they are found.”
– A.R. Wallace
2023 marks a number of important anniversaries in the UK: it has been 75 years since the founding of the NHS and the arrival of the Empire Windrush in London, and 100 years since the first outside broadcast by the British Broadcasting Company. Importantly for the Museum, it is also the 200th anniversary of the birth of Alfred Russel Wallace (1823-1913), the trailblazing biologist, geographer, explorer, and naturalist.
Wallace was one of the leading evolutionary thinkers of the nineteenth century and is most well-known for independently developing the theory of natural selection simultaneously with Charles Darwin. The publication of Wallace’s paper “On the Tendency of Varieties of Depart Indefinitely from the Original Type” in 1858 prompted Darwin to quickly publish On the Origin of Species the following year. He was a pioneer in the field of zoogeography and was considered the leading expert of his time on the geographical distribution of animal species. He was also one of the first scientists to write a serious exploration of the possibility of life on other planets.
Wallace undertook extensive fieldwork in the Amazon River basin and the Malay Archipelago. He spent four years in the Amazon from 1848-52 but unfortunately lost much of his collection when the ship he returned to Britain on caught fire.Afterwards, he spent eight years in the Malay Archipelago (1854-62), building up a collection of 125,660 specimens including 109,700 insects, many of which are currently housed at Oxford University Museum of Natural History. In fact, we now hold one of the largest collections of Wallace specimens in the country.
Papillio ulysses (Ulysses butterfly) collected by A.R. WallacePsychonotis caelius (small green banded blue butterfly) collected by A.R. Wallace
In addition to entomological specimens, OUMNH holds a large and varied archival collection relating to Wallace. The archive includes original insect illustrations sent to Wallace by contemporary entomologists, photographs, and even obituaries. By far the largest portion of the collection is 295 letters of correspondence, of which 285 were penned by Wallace himself. The bulk of Wallace’s letters were written to fellow scientists, includingthe chemist and naturalist Raphael Meldola and the evolutionary biologist Edward Bagnall Poulton.
Several of the letters in the collection can be connected to the Wallace entomological collections held at OUMNH, providing us with invaluable insights into the history of these specimens. For example, you can read this 1896 letter from Wallace to Poulton in which Wallace discusses the changing of hands of his entomological collections, from Samuel Stevens to Edmond Higgins following Stevens’ retirement in 1867. The Museum subsequently acquired some of Wallace’s entomological specimens through Edmond Higgins, including the two beautiful examples shown above.
Photographic portrait of A.R. Wallace from the OUMNH archiveEnvelope of a letter from A.R. Wallace addressed to Poulton, also available from the OUMNH archive
These letters are a potential treasure trove of information about Wallace and his collections, and we hope they will be of great interest to researchers in the field, as well as to the public. Interested? Learn more about Alfred Russel Wallace or explore his archive online.
Article by Matthew Barton, Digital Archivist at OUMNH
