A tigerskin rug. A rhinoceros head. A gigantic moose. The lion from Night at the Museum. Ravishing Beasts, the newest exhibit at the recently revamped Museum of Vancouver (MOV), is not for the faint of heart. A sign warns attendees that some of the displays may be offensive or distasteful. For those unfamiliar with taxidermy (most of us), the exhibit will likely evoke strong emotional responses.
Ravishing Beasts is more than a taxidermy exhibit—it’s a look into the past. Before the electronic age, taxidermy was the best way to study nature up close. You couldn’t watch a documentary or research animals online; you had to go to a museum and look at animals that had been killed and preserved.
Some feel that the technology we possess today makes taxidermy archaic and obsolete—many museums are actually destroying their old taxidermy collections. Rachel Poliquin, the curator of Ravishing Beasts, begs to differ. She feels the exhibit is an opportunity to examine taxidermy’s past, present and future. The animals featured were donated by Vancouver residents between 1894 and 1950 and many of them have been in storage for decades. Poliquin feels that this is an injustice, and that by killing these animals, they become our responsibility, and simply locking them away is a waste.
Reflecting on the mistakes of the past is a recurring theme in the exhibit. In one corner of the exhibit, is a collection of animal heads—the hunting trophies that most people associate with taxidermy. They’re a silent testimony to past sins. When staring at the unwavering head of an antelope that was murdered for sport, it is easy to imagine bitterness and judgment in the beast’s gaze. There’s a passenger pigeon specimen in a glass cage. Once the most populous bird in North America, almost no living person today has seen a live specimen—decades of shooting competitions drove the species to extinction.
Taxidermy has never been only about vanity. Trophy hunting is just one of several genres of taxidermy. Taxidermy was responsible for many past advances in science. The Galápagos finches Darwin used for the theory of evolution were studied after preservation. Scientists would often receive specimens and study them, allowing for the classification of species. The general public could visit a museum and see, for example, a preserved moose. A picture of a moose in a book is one thing—a life-size exhibit of an actual moose filled with sawdust is quite another.
Not all animals used in the exhibit were killed by humans. Some died a natural death and were preserved afterwards. The “stuffed pet” genre of taxidermy falls into this category. While many would see this as strange and even morbid, some see it as a way of remembering their pets. Ravishing Beasts features a dog named “Lucky” that was originally preserved for this reason.
Contemporary taxidermy hasn’t changed a great deal. Hunting trophies and specimens for scientific study remain the most common reasons for it. There’s also a thriving niche market for preserved animals on eBay—a good moose head with large antlers can go for a few thousand. In contrast, “Rupert,” a red fox displayed in the exhibit, had only one bidder and sold for a paltry $15.
Poliquin acknowledges that taxidermy is something of a waning art, but believes that the practice still plays a valuable role and deserves to survive. The exhibit features a display of contemporary art involving taxidermy. Many would find such art disturbing, but proponents argue that is its strength: the animals displayed evoke an emotional reaction that would not occur if substitutes were used.
Ravishing Beasts is a thought-provoking exhibit that runs the gamut of the emotional spectrum. You might indeed find it ravishing. You might also find it awe-inspiring, offensive, tragic or amusing.
The Ravishing Beasts exhibit runs at the Museum of Vancouver from October 22 to February 28, 2010. Admission is $9 for students and $11 for general adults. For additional information about Rachel Poliquin and the exhibit, check out ravishingbeasts.com.


