Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, November 5, 1994 TAG: 9411070037
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: SARAH HUNTLEY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Time was, the animals in Mike Sampson's basement were alive.
Before they were pierced by the arrow or struck by the bullet that killed them, they roamed the forests and the mountainside. In Sampson's workshop, they wait to be brought to life again.
Deer. Bear. Bobcats. Squirrels. The taxidermist will pull the hides from their bodies and preserve them. He'll flesh the skins, and then he'll mount them. By the time he's done, some of the animals will seem serene, others will seem fierce and ready to pounce, but each will have the look - the look of life.
"The bobcats, they're my favorites," Sampson said. "You can put a lot of expression into a predator like that."
Never before has realism been so easy to come by for taxidermists. New products and technologies are changing the way these craftsmen work, and with the proliferation of professional organizations and trade publications, taxidermists are striving to get even better. What used to be a backwoods, in-the-cellar art has become a business, and with the start of the muzzleloading season Monday, it'll be booming in Western Virginia.
"Taxidermy is a big business. ... There's big money in those industries," said Ted Justice, who has worked as a taxidermist in Roanoke for 20 years and estimates that 90 percent of men in the area hunt or fish.
Last season, Christiansburg taxidermist Dewayne Linkous mounted 225 deer heads at prices that ranged from $160 to $185 each. Some of his clients come from as far away as Canada. He has also developed a foothold in work from Tennessee's Smoky Mountains and Cherokee Indian tribes.
Linkous has been a member of the Virginia Association of Taxidermists since it was founded 14 years ago. The association, which holds seminars and competitions, has more than 130 members.
"Since I started, membership has almost doubled," Linkous said. "A lot more people are getting into taxidermy. They are fascinated by the animals."
Taxidermy supply companies are capitalizing on this heightened popularity, working to develop products that will make crafters' results more authentic - and less time-consuming.
"I'm not using any of the things I used in the start," said Justice, who held up a yellow piece of foam shaped like a fish. "These things have revolutionized taxidermy. This is what a piece of meat looks like in a 6-pound striper."
Foam forms come in all different animal shapes and sizes. A pile of foam deer heads lies heaped under the stairs in Justice's basement workshop. Foam forms are better than the old paper forms because a taxidermist can rasp the foam down to make the hides better fit around it, Justice said.
Manufacturing the foam forms is an art in itself. Many of the forms boast well-defined muscles and facial details. "You can have a slender deer, a running deer. The muscles are so real-looking," Sampson said. "It used to be that type of detail was used by museums only, but now you can do museum-like work in your basement."
New types of tools also have helped, taxidermists said. Sampson uses an airbrush to give his fish vibrant color and a softer look, and Troutville taxidermist Dale Thacker said his fleshing machine has improved his work. Taxidermists run the hides across the fleshing machine's spinning, round blade to remove the meat from the skin.
"The machine allows you to get the hide almost paper-thin without the danger of ripping a hole in it," Thacker said. "It also saves time."
With the improved technology, taxidermists are realizing the importance of training and of sharing information. The openness reflects a major breakthrough for taxidermy. Until the formation of a national organization in the 1970s, techniques and trademarks were strictly secret.
"No one wanted to share information," said Melvin Mitchell, of Forest, who has practiced taxidermy since 1948. "But then everybody's mouths just sort of came unhinged. They couldn't talk enough."
Sampson chuckled as he thought of the old-style reticence to share ideas. "If somebody learned something that saved time before, there's no way he would have shared it," he said. "Now there's more give and take."
Most taxidermists agree that swapping ideas advances the craft. "It's good for taxidermists all over," Thacker said. "It improves the quality of our work." But the seminars and discussions spawn competition, and some worry there might not be enough demand.
"Pretty soon it'll be so that your neighbor will do your taxidermy," Justice said. "Everywhere you look, there's a taxidermist."
E.K. Carter Sr., a retired taxidermist in Vinton, learned the craft 54 years ago and made his living from full-time taxidermy work for 22 years. He supports increased education. In fact, he helped found the taxidermy program at Piedmont Community College in Roxboro, N.C., which draws hundreds of taxidermists-to-be to its sessions each year. But he, too, said times have changed.
"Back then, it cost $1 a month for 10 months [to take a correspondence course]. They'd send you booklets, and you'd answer questions and mail in photos of your work. If you played long enough, they'd send you a diploma," he said, laughing. "I had to learn by trial and error. Now you can buy a video and sit down and do taxidermy."
He paused. "I think the competition is good and bad," he said. "It'd be really hard to make a living off of taxidermy these days."
A few still try. Linkous and Justice are full-time taxidermists. Many, though, also have part-time jobs. Sampson works in automotive paint and supply. Thacker is a night-shift paramedic.
"As of right now, there's enough business to go around," Thacker said. "Each year, it's been growing and growing. I think we'll make it."
A taxidermist's workplace is rarely far from home, and more often than not, it's in the home. At Sampson's ranch-style house on Cordell Drive in Roanoke County, the shop shares the basement with a family den. Sampson's wife, Beth, does the bookkeeping. Their children, Shannon, 4, and 21-month-old Cole ran through the shop as he spoke.
"It's nice to work at home, because I can spend time with the kids," Sampson said, "but you can't leave work behind, either. I have people bringing things by at 10:30 at night and 6:30 in the morning."
Many workshops include a showroom. At Linkous' shop - a large three-room shed at the end of his steep, curvy driveway - awards from state, national and world competitions are prominently displayed. Red, white and blue ribbons hang in glass cases. A caribou, two boars and several fox squirrels decorate the wall. A bear head, just delivered, sits on the floor, and a faint smell of chemicals lingers in the room.
Linkous proudly showed off his latest work, a beautiful 18-point buck killed by bow in Floyd County.
"That there is next year's record state deer," he said, as he looked into its eyes.
The silent buck stared back.
by CNB