'It's not macabre, revolting, upsetting.' I'm a taxidermist and this is what you don't know.

Listen to this story being read by Isabella Ross, here.

Julia deVille has always been fascinated with death.

At the age of three she was asking those around her whether they would want to be buried or cremated.

By 12, she decided to become a vegetarian. But it was when she turned 16 that Julia came across her first taxidermy, after wandering into an antique stop.

"I saw a stag's head at an antique shop and that's what kind of started the curiosity. It was like $150 which was a lot of money for me at the time. But I saved up and bought it and had it on my bedroom wall as a kid," Julia tells Mamamia.

And for 20 years Julia was a taxidermist - skinning, stuffing, wiring and mounting hundreds and hundreds of deceased animals, creating art in the process.

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When Julia first decided she wanted to pursue taxidermy, not many people took her seriously. It wasn't until she moved to Melbourne from New Zealand, aged 18, that she found a retired taxidermist who offered to show her the craft.

Image: photography by James Geer.

"My first taxidermy was a starling. My housemate came home drunk after a night out and on the way she found a dead starling on the side of the road. So I went out there [and took the bird to my new taxidermist mentor]. He would do one half and I would do the other half. I mainly worked on birds and mice for a long time. I only worked on things that died of natural causes."

Julia isn't squeamish about working with dead animals. On the contrary, she finds it fascinating. And it's this curiosity that makes some of the people around her uncomfortable.

"Our society has such an unhealthy relationship with death - so many feel disturbed by it and anything remotely associated with it. It [taxidermy] wasn't fashionable back then, and I would tell people that I was interested in taxidermy and they would walk away. It was seen as creepy. It was often a conversation stopper, because they thought it was so strange," Julia says.

As for what actually goes into creating a taxidermy - it takes a strong eye to make something that is dead look almost 'lifelike'.

"The best taxidermists are the ones who can make something look alive when they're not. It's very easy to make something not look quite right... Preservation involves dousing the deceased animal in a jar of methylated spirits, or perhaps using mummification or freeze drying," Julia explains. "Taxidermy is a specific art form. It's arranging skin."

Take the example of a bird.

First you would skin the animal finely, which doesn't involve any blood or guts. Once it's peeled, it looks similar to that of a chicken you would find at your local butcher.

"After the skinning you cut the bones off that you peel back, and you cut the bones off at the shoulder and the hips  and remove all the flesh off that. Then you've just got the skin with these bones hanging out. You cut the skull off at the neck. You remove the eyes, you remove the brains and you pad it out with cotton wool where you've removed muscle."

Next is positioning - putting wires down through the wings and legs to anchor it, before pulling the old skin around this 'new body', and stitching it all up. And in Julia's case, she often uses gemstones for the eyes. 

Contrary to what some might imagine about taxidermy, it isn't particularly gory. There's little blood and guts to be seen. And in terms of the smell, Julia explains that it comes down to how recently dead the animal is or how it has been preserved. 

"You notice if it's fresh or not - the skin will start to rip, the eyes will be shrivelled, there may be maggots. But if the animal you have is fresh, there is no smell."

For Julia, she has always landed on the side of ethical taxidermy - not killing animals for the purpose of taxidermy, rather only sourcing animals that have already died from natural causes.

"People are quick to judge. I have received so much hate mail, attacks and death threats over the years for my work from strangers who assume I kill the animals. Now after 20 years of being a taxidermist, it's widely known that I only do ethical taxidermy. I often receive donations from people whose animals have died, or from zoos or museums."

In one case, Julia received a stillborn giraffe originally from Adelaide Zoo - which featured in her exhibition. And like with all her animals, Julia embellished the baby giraffe with an assortment of precious jewels - thousands of tiny pearls stuck on with gold posts, as well as rose-cut diamonds, uncut diamond granules and more. It's the precious gems and metals which make Julia's taxidermy works more expensive than a traditional taxidermy, which isn't a costly thing to produce, rather just "labour-intensive". 

"A lot of people say 'Oh I thought this would be grotesque but it's quite sensitive and beautiful'. When you add diamonds or pearls to a taxidermy pigeon or mouse, in society's eyes it makes it more precious. And that's an interesting thing to ponder - what makes something precious?"

Mother is My Monarch, 2018. Baby giraffe, 18ct gold, 18ct white gold, sterling silver, bronze, gold plate, black rhodium plate, Akoya pearls, freshwater pearls, rose-cut diamonds 6.05ct, rose cut black diamonds 0.67ct, uncut diamond granules 150ct. Case made by Kate Rohde. Photo by Andrew Curtis.

Another artwork that Julia looks back on fondly is a black and white stillborn calf that came out of a cow in a slaughterhouse. 

"It was very small and really beautiful. I placed it so that it looks curled up asleep and on a silver platter. It's then got diamonds and sapphires kind of dotted all over the black parts of his body, and his nose is covered in tiny uncut diamonds. I've kept quite a few of the remaining works."

As for the sorts of people who buy taxidermies from Julia, it comes down to those who have a keen interest in the field and some money to spare.

Occasionally, people have reached out to Julia asking to have their pets taxidermied. But it's something she herself, and most taxidermists, steer clear from.

"I've done one of my friend's cats before and a gosling. But I don't often do it - the animal will often never really look like they did in real life, and that can be confronting for a pet owner. They can be too sensitive," Julia tells Mamamia. "Plus, it is expensive as well. I don't know what a conventional taxidermist [would charge]. For me, when I did commissions (Julia has taken a recent break from taxidermy) a starting point would be around $10,000 depending on how they were decorated."

Ultimately, if there's one thing that Julia wants people to know about taxidermy, it's this - taxidermy can be ethical. And it can also celebrate the life of the animal.

"Taxidermy doesn't have to be macabre, revolting or upsetting. I think we need to be more accustomed to death. If you can accept mortality, it can help you to appreciate the significance of life. We can get so closed off from topics that are considered 'taboo' - a lot can be learned."

For more from Julia deVille, you can follow her on Instagram, or you can visit her website here. 

Feature Image: James Geer.

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