We’re coming up on the ten-year anniversary for this project, which is still the most ambitious project we’ve ever done. In 2002, Susan and I worked on a 400-illustration identification key project for the American Museum of Natural History in New York. The Museum’s Milstein Hall of Ocean Life was undergoing extensive renovations, adding new habitat dioramas and models of species that were new to science. I remember visiting the Hall around this time, while it was in the middle of its renovations. I remember the Blue Whale was entirely wrapped in clear plastic, like it was sushi. I also recall the thrill of receiving a VHS tape from Woods Hole that had footage of entirely new species, filmed from the famous ALVIN submersible.
This was an incredibly daunting project for just two people. The 400 illustrations required seven months of round-the-clock work: no weekends or even holidays. We had individual folders for each species, all of which were kept organized in labeled and stacked plastic tubs. We lived on tuna sandwiches (ironically) because we had no time to make dinner. Keeping track of revisions and sketches in the midst of banging out at least five finished illustrations each day was, to say the least, a challenge. Four hours of sleep per day was the norm for weeks on end.
The informational challenge of course was to provide enough visual detail in the illustrations for ease of identification without going too far, which would obliterate the crucial details of each species. We quickly became quite good at hitting this sweet spot once we established that level of detail with the AMNH design department. The job itself was tough, but the folks at AMNH were a pleasure to work with.
We had to refuse work from our other clients during these months, and some never came back. But for lifelong amateur naturalists like us, serving an institution like AMNH in such a meaningful way was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Most work that designers and illustrators do is ephemeral: magazines, websites, brochures, etc. This project was very different: thousands of visitors will be using our keys for the next thirty years. It remains the most fulfilling project we’ve ever done.
On opening day, a little boy came up to one of our identification keys and learned how to say, “barracuda.” I’m not ashamed to say that it brought a tear to my eye.
Browse a sampling of the project on our Flickr site.