
Paleoartistry: The Science of Re-Creating Beasts
January 16, 2025Written by: Matthew Buie
When we think of discovering dinosaurs, many of us imagine digging up fossils and the fun of wearing Panama hats. In reality, the process is far more intricate. While the technical aspects are essential for uncovering details about different prehistoric animals, there’s also a highly creative side to the work. Paleontologists collaborate with artists not only to reconstruct the skeletal framework but also to envision how these creatures might have appeared in life. In today’s blog, QMNH volunteer Matthew Buie delves into the fascinating world of paleoart and its significance in the scientific community!
Imagine it is 5,000 years ago, in what is now Mongolia. You are carver of jade. A representative of the Xiongnu – the nomadic emperor – has instructed you to carve an image of a monster whose skeleton was found in a powerful river. What is described to you is a creature with a slim but long, lizard-like skull with a smiling mouth lined with wolf-like teeth. Along the spine there are small limbs, each ending in three sharp claws. You start working on this river-beast. What would it look like? How would it act? Perhaps, being a river beast, it would be supple, like a fish or eel. How many limbs would it have? Most animals with limbs have four, and they’re usually the same length, so you give it four short legs, each with three claws. Oh, and a tail, because all river beasts have tails. You get to work, carving this creature, which you name after the river in which it was found.

Eighth Century Britain. You are a chronicler, an artist and sage. One of your Lord’s scribes gives you an account of a skeleton found by a serf, as reported to a knight. He says it is “in the shape of the pate of a great wyrm, ‘i length almost a full arm span, and with sharpened teeth of nearly the width of mine outspread fingers. Near to this pate is a length of bones that marshal’t to ribs and great legs.” You struggle to visualize this creature. Taking inspiration from the strongest and fiercest animal in the land – the bear – you assign your Lord’s creature four powerful limbs, and because it was described as a wyrm, you bestow it with scales. Of what colour? Possibly brown or green, perhaps red, after all, red dye is easy to make. Let’s add the knight, bravely fighting this dragon (which means “great serpent”).
These are two examples of the art known as Paleoartistry – artistry of the geologic past. Paleoartistry combines science and creativity to reconstruct and bring prehistoric life to vivid life based on fossil evidence. Have you ever coloured a picture of a dinosaur? Congratulations! You have dabbled in paleoartistry! Did you colour your dinosaur brightly or was it more camoflauged? Did it have stripes? What about its eyes? What colour did you choose? Did it have feathers, scales, or skin? The answers to these questions will depend on your age and your imagination.

The way we picture ancient creatures is informed by science, and popularized by media, often by Hollywood. The conditions of the fossils and indeed, which fossils were discovered, would have influenced the way these creatures looked, and therefore how they would have acted. Was your dragon discovered high up, near the source of the river upon whose flood plains your civilization lives and occasionally dies due to flooding? The dragon could easily be seen as having the powers and wisdom of a deity, controlling the waters of the river. Was it found in a peat bog during a pandemic? Clearly this dragon is a death-dealing monster, you may think in a more science-illiterate time.
Looking at the fossils of a long-extinct creature and discerning what it looked like is a daunting task. How many limbs did it have? Did it stand up, or on all fours. Which way do the knees go? Are these hands or fins? Did it have flippers, a nose, ears, or other features that would be unlikely to fossilize? Paleoartists must draw conclusions based on what they’ve seen in living creatures. These decisions aren’t always right and can be hilariously wrong. A stunning example of how wrong these types of assumptions can go is the Lion of Gripsholm Castle. In 1731, the Dey (ruling official) of Algiers, Baba Abdi, presented King Frederick I of Sweden with a lion. After the lion’s death, it was taxidermied. Based on the end result, there is speculation that the task was done by people who never saw the beast alive (see below).

As a challenge to you, we present photos of three animal skulls. These are real animal skulls, and all three are much larger than an adult human’s chest. The third one is several metres long. Can you guess what the animals looked like? We’ll post the answer next week in Part II of this article.