Read this Wildlife Art Journal article

Every year, hunters carry Duck Stamps in their camouflaged jackets. �They get huge circulation. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service pegs the number of hunters and anglers in America at somewhere around 50 million.

Elsewhere, families have cheap posters, limited edition prints, and giclees of grizzly bears, elk, fish and birds on the walls of their cabins in the woods and at their seaside cottages. Those images, too, are ubiquitous.

Meanwhile, sports teams have adopted certain species as their enduring mascots. And multi-national companies spend millions marketing animals as part of corporate branding and PR campaigns, promoting themselves as sound stewards of the Earth to win the hearts of consumers.



These are the superficial clich�s of what wildlife art is. The images are all around us, ubiquitously. And it is against this backdrop that artists engaged in the genre have fought a never-ending battle for self-respect.



These are the superficial clich�s of what wildlife art is. The images are all around us, and it is against this backdrop that artists engaged in the genre have fought a never-ending battle for self-respect.

Yet, by any objective measure, wildlife art � long treated with derision by some in the American and European fine art establishments � may finally be coming of age with critical recognition. Consider the U.S. West, Canada, and Alaska which, remarkably, still has thriving populations of major mammal species that walked the Earth during the Pleistocene, and many are...