Literature
P. J. Broder, Bronzes of the American West, New York, 1974, pp. 247-249 (for a related example)
Victoria S. Schmitt, Four Centuries of Sporting Art, Mumford, New York, 1984, p.142, illustrated (for a related example)
Notes
Carl Akeley is remembered as a taxidermist, artist, biologist, conservationist, and nature photographer, noted for his extensive travels throughout Africa and contributions to American museums, particuarly New York's American Museum of Natural History. His steadfast commitment to the first-hand observation of wildlife in their native habitats lead teams of scientists and artists to Africa to study the already rapidly decreasing species of animal and plant life. In particular, Akeley was fascinated by elephants, and, over the course of numerous safaris, lived among the giant animals observing their unique behaviors and intricate relationships with one another. Such immediate observation was essential; Akeley explained, "no animal in captivity can give one more than a slight idea of his natural habits in his jungle home" (Carl E. Akeley, In Brightest Africa, Memorial Edition, New York, 1923, p. 21). After years of study Akeley concluded that, of all the animals, elephants were "the most fascinating, and that man, for all the thousands of years he has known of elephants, knows mighty little about him" (Akeley, p. 21). The Wounded Comrade reveals Akelely's profound understanding and relationship to the elephant. The sculpture's finely modeled surface, intricately detailing the elephant's thick, wrinkled hide, trunks roped with muscles and mighty tusks, is directly informed by Akeley's incredible experiences in Uganda, where he encountered herds of elephants in primeval dense forests and misty valleys. On one trek, Akeley and his team disturbed a herd of over seven hundred elephants, causing them to scatter in all directions, crashing through the thickly grown trees, finally forcing his companions to shoot to avoid being trampled. Then, as Akeley described, "I had made a hasty if not graceful retreat... where I could see the doings. The bull had gone about twenty-five yards and fallen. The other bulls made off at once. Half a dozen cows were around their fallen chief trying to lift him to his feet with their trunks. I had heard of this thing but had my doubts" (as quoted in Penelope Bodry-Sanders, Carl Akeley, Africa's Collector, Africa's Savior, New York, 1991, p. 139). Such experiences had a profound affect on Akeley, and inspired his designs for the American Museum of National History's African Hall. Akeley set forth an innovative plan for an open hall with a balcony and twenty-eight painted dioramas filled with representations of native flora and fauna and over forty animal groupings (Bodry-Sanders, p. 141). Such displays would allow visitors to walk among exotic animals and virtually experience their native habitat. In creating these realistic scenes, Akeley also redefined the practices of taxidermy. Rather than stuffing animal skins with straw or wood shavings, Akeley replicated the animals' shapes with armatures of wood, wire and sometimes pieces of the animal's bones. Clay was then applied to this exoskeleton to build layers of muscle, veins and tendons; next, a cast was formed, and the animal's original skin (the most perfect examples found on safari) was fit over it. Of all the taxidermy groupings, a herd of elephants was the intended central focus installed in a space Akeley believed "will be an everlasting monument to the Africa that was, the Africa that is now fast disappearing" (Akeley, p. 55). While museum trustees and supporters were thrilled with Akeley's plans for the African Hall, approving its designs in 1912, the great expense demanded long and difficult fundraising efforts. Indeed, while the proposed animal installations were clearly artful, they did not attract the same level of patronage that fine art exhibitions could--- as Akeley explained, "a taxidermist couldn't talk art." Therefore, through the creation of bronze sculptures like The Wounded Comrade, Akeley could prove himself as an artist and, perhaps, lend more credibility to his animal mounts for the Museum of National History (Bodry-Sanders, p. 161). Less didactic and perhaps more nuanced than his larger works, his first sculpture, The Wounded Comrade, reveals previously unobserved or recorded moments from the life of the animals. The sculpture does more than serve as visual evidence of Akeley's Ugandan experiences, but also suggests an emotional, tender connection as two elephants support their fallen friend, trunks wrapped around the slumped central figure. The work reveals Akeley's sensitive belief in the elephant's "sagacity, his versatility, and a certain comradeship.... I think, too, of the extraordinary fact that I have never heard or seen African elephants fighting each other. They have no enemy but man and are at peace amongst themselves" (Akeley, p. 54). The artistic experiment proved essential to the future success of both Akelely and his African Hall. Soon after The Wounded Comrade was first conceived, J.P. Morgan arrived at Akeley's studio to discuss the development of the African Hall at the Museum of Natural History. Seeing the magnificent work, Morgan immediately pledged his support to the Hall. The celebrated animal sculptor Alexander Phimister Proctor said he wished that he had created something as important as The Wounded Comrade, and encouraged museum trustee George Pratt to order a bronze cast sight unseen. The Wounded Comrade was exhibited at the Winter Exhibition of the National Academy of Design in 1913, and was so well received that Akelely was made a member of the national Sculpture Society. Akeley was heralded as a true artist, and his taxidermy seen as further evidence of his talent. Indeed he was made a member of the National Institute of Social Sciences in 1916 for "making taxidermy one of the arts" (Bodry Saunders, pp. 161-162). It was not until 1936, ten years after Akeley's death on an African expedition, that the African Hall's construction was completed under the direction of James L. Clark, then the Museum's Vice Director. Upon its opening the exhibition space was named The Akeley Hall of African Mammals as memorial to its founder's lasting vision.
