Lynn Wolfe finds his niche and loves every minute of it
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Lynn Wolfe of Villisca makes small adjustments to a deer head in his shop. Lynn began taxidermy as a teenager. |
As a youngster growing up in Villisca, Lynn Wolfe loved the outdoors. He’d take hunting and fishing over just about any activity. Today, he adores his rural Villisca home, the view through his dining room window, and his days spent preserving one aspect of that great outdoors that he loves so much. After a 31-year career with the Burlington Northern Santa Fe railroad, health forced Lynn to retire, giving him time to indulge his passion for taxidermy.
Lynn calls himself self-taught, beginning with a correspondence course he took as a teenager. That was long before do-it-yourself videos, DVDs, and Internet courses. Lynn read a book, looked at the pictures, and learned.
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This is one of many examples of Lynn's artistry. This one decorates the Wolfe home. |
“I took a correspondence course when I was about 15 or 16 and the rest I learned by my own trial and errors,” he explains. “I learn something new every year.”
The first animal Lynn mounted most likely was a pigeon and he continued learning by mounting animals from his own hunts, starting with small animals such as squirrels and working up to deer heads. Along the way he developed a great deal of respect for the art of taxidermy.
“It was much harder than I thought and you either love doing it or you just don’t,” he says. “There’s no in between.”
Lynn continued with taxidermy as a hobby as he and his wife, Vickie, raised their family. Every so often, friends would ask if he could mount a trophy from one of their hunts. As his time allowed, he did. In 2004, he was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and forced to retire. That left him with time on his hands. Time that he fills by indulging this passion.
“I keep busy,” he says calmly. “I love to do it. I look forward to every morning and going out to the shop and getting to work. I do and soon I look up at the clock and it’s 2 and I haven’t eaten dinner yet. I just love it.”
Lynn’s ability can best be described as a well-honed skill. His eye for detail and unflinching pride in his work as his artistry. Some artists work with paint on canvas. Lynn works with animal hide.
Taxidermy begins with what Lynn acknowledges is the “worst part” of the job – fleshing out or removing all the flesh and bones to preserve only the animal skin.
“You have to take it down to bare skin,” he explains. “No taxidermist likes that part.”
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A few years ago, Lynn began making lamps from animal antlers. This is one of his favorite creations. |
Then the artist’s eyes take over. Using careful measurements, Lynn calculates the size and features of the form he needs. Today’s taxidermist has numerous choices available, but each form is specific to that animal in size, shape, and pose. The companies which make taxidermy forms have contracted with wildlife artists to develop forms with the correct musculature and stance for specific animals. Lynn makes his calculations and orders the form he needs.
Once the form arrives, Lynn preps it by getting the eyes set correctly and sculpting around the eyes. Then he lays the animal skin over the form, pushing, primping, and adjusting to get that perfect touch.
“The trick is in getting the skin laid right, so all the details still show,” he explains.
The taxidermy process requires considerable drying time, during which Lynn makes minute adjustments.
“I primp and push and adjust for three or four days,” Lynn notes, adding that a minor adjustment around the eyes can make a huge difference in the final product.
From start to finish, mounting a deer head, for example, will require at least four weeks with at least two weeks spent in drying time. That assumes, of course, that Lynn has no other projects going at the time.
“I take a lot of pride in getting stuff back in a timely fashion, but you just can’t ram through them,” he says.
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This chandelier, made from elk antlers, features 17 lights and weighs more than 100 pounds. |
An extension of Lynn’s work is in the creation of lamps from animal antlers. He saw an antler lamp during a hunting trip out west and, as with the mounted animal heads, wondered if he could do the same.
“I wanted to have something that I made myself,” he begins. “So a couple years ago I decided to make a lamp out of two little horns and it just snowballed from there.”
That first table lamp blossomed into larger table lamps, floor lamps, and even chandeliers.
“Every time I made one, it got better and bigger,” Lynn explains. “Then I started donating some to the wildlife banquets because those guys are so good to me and I really believe in what they are doing.”
The raw material for antler lamps--animal antlers--is hard to come by and accounts for part of their expense. Lynn notes that while animal sheds used to be easier to find, their popularity and value makes finding them in the wild more difficult. But when he does, Lynn’s mind goes to work.
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Lynn shows the various points of contact within this floor lamp. |
“The hardest part is what I call set up, getting a look that is what I want. I’ll arrange horns this way and that, wire them together, step back and look at them, then change this or that, all trying to get the right look. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll know it when I see it.”
The “right look” combines balance, form, line, and shape. Lynn strives for at least three points of contact among the antlers and says he finds a pathway for the wiring last, drilling through the antlers as needed and plugging the holes later.
“The hard part is getting that first vision,” he smiles. “If I had my choice, this is what I would do all the time. Antler art. The deer heads, they get a certain sameness. But the antler art - every one is unique. No two are alike and you’ve created something.”
Lynn sells few, if any, antler lamps. Most end up decorating his home. Others become sought-after auction items for wildlife organizations. For example, Lynn is donating one to next month’s Page County Pheasants Forever banquet.
“It’s weird that I was 50-some years old before I found what I really like to do,” Lynn says. “I’ve found my niche. Whether I’m good at it is for other people to decide.”
Lynn and Vickie have four daughters: Aimee Mauderly lives in Grant; Emilee Soll lives in Fort Calhoun, NE; Erin Bowden lives in Villisca; and Kelly Kline is in Hawaii. The couple has nine grandchildren.