Showing posts with label gouache. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gouache. Show all posts

Tuesday, 29 May 2018

Are We Shrink-Wrapping Ichthyosaur Tails?

(Don't start with a disclaimer... DON'T START WITH A DISCLAIMER!)

DisclaimerI'm not trained in palaeontology or fluid mechanics, but after recently illustrating a few ichthyosaurs for a project, I wondered if I was reconstructing their tails too conservatively. I had a poke around the internet and tried to translate it into some coherent thoughts. A water tunnel, tame engineer, and unlimited access to ichthyosaurs would have been useful, but in the absence of all of that, I just had fudge it. And fudge it I did.

The Current Popular Look For Ichthyosaur Tails


If you look at palaeoart depicting ichthyosaurs (including six of the seven I just did... pfft!), a good chunk of it shows animals with tails which are more-or-less cylindrical, following the form of the vertebral column under the surface, skimmed with some muscle and skin, and terminating in a thunniform ('tuna-esque') caudal fin, the lower lobe of which displays a prominent ridge where the vertebrae continue beneath the fin's surface. The top lobe is generally depicted as skinnier than the bottom. But is this the most likely look for ichthyosaurs, and is it worth taking a peak at modern aquatic vertebrates to see how they're doing it?

A horribly-shrink-wrapped Ophthalmosaurus, with a stupidly-long tail. By me. Illustration: copyright © 2003 OUMNH/Gareth Monger

Caudal Fins


The caudal fins of aquatic vertebrates vary greatly in form, reflecting the locomotive styles and ecological niches of their owners. Ocean-going predators, including cetaceans, sharks, and billfish (sailfish, marlins, etc.) have evolved caudal fin shapes which allow them to reach the speeds necessary to run down swift prey and there are broad similarities brought about by convergence. The differences in the orientation of the caudal fin of fishes and reptiles, and mammals, reflect the evolutionary origins of those fins. The ancestors of aquatic reptiles presumably walked with a sprawling gait, their vertebral columns flexing from side to side, resulting in the same undulating motion in water and, therefore, a vertically oriented caudal fin. Cetaceans' terrestrial ancestors walked with an erect gait and cetaceans swim with a vertical undulation and developed a horizontally oriented caudal fin.


Predatory marine vertebrates: A. Atlantic sailfish (Istiophorus albicans); B. tiger shark (Galeocerdo cuvier); C. harbour porpoise (Phocoena phocoena); D. the Jurassic ichthyosaur, Opthalmosaurus. Image: Gareth Monger.

Streamlining Peduncles


Some of these animals also bear modified structures which improve the efficiency of their stroke. The part of the body after the anal fin (broadly speaking, the tail) is called the caudal peduncle, and contains the muscles which drive the caudal fin. It also includes the bony or cartilaginous skeleton, depending on the group to which it belongs. (In cetaceans, the peduncle is also called the tail stock.) In order to generate forward thrust, the caudal fin beats laterally in fish and reptiles, and vertically in mammals. The peduncle must also displace water during the stroke, but pushing the peduncle through water can reduce the efficiency of the caudal fin. Drag created by the peduncle during the stroke is energy wasted which could be converted to forward thrust by the caudal fin. In addition to this, water made turbulent having passed over the animal's body and fins then flows to the caudal fin. The caudal fin is less efficient in this disturbed, turbulent water than in smooth, laminar water.

Many species improve upon these inefficiencies by having peduncles which are streamlined to cut down hydrodynamic drag during the swimming stroke. For example, many sharks' peduncles are dorsoventrally-flattened to ovals when viewed in cross-section, which might be expected anyway because the muscles are grouped either side of the vertebral column – though the overlying tissues produce more-angular apexes to the oval than is achieved by the muscle mass alone.  This produces a lower profile that cuts through the water more easily during lateral beating of the tail. If the stroke generates less turbulence, the animal can transfer more of its energy to the caudal fin to be turned into forward thrust. The cross-section of the cetacean peduncle is similar, except that its oval is oriented vertically.

The peduncle and caudal fin of the harbour porpoise. The cross-section through the peduncle shows the streamlined dorsal and ventral surfaces. Image: Gareth Monger.

Caudal Keels as Laminar Flow Generators


Caudal keel as a possible laminar flow generator.
Image: Gareth Monger.
An additional feature of some fish peduncles is a 'caudal keel' situated on the outermost margins. This is sometimes formed by harder structures such as scales in animals which possess scales – a bit like ridge tiles on a roof. The keels' locations towards the distal end of the peduncle may also partially stabilise the flow of turbulent water as it passes from the animal's body and over its caudal fin. It's less efficient for the caudal fin to push against turbulent water during its stroke, but a longer caudal keel, as seen in some sharks, might convert some of the turbulence to laminar flow. This presumes that a given ichthyosaur's integument didn't sufficiently produce laminar flow on its own.

Caudal Keels as Boundary Layer Fences


The keels might also function as 'boundary layer fences', which serve to reduce slippage of water passing across the caudal fin towards the lobes of the fins. In other words, if the water flows in any other direction not associated with the forward thrust, thrust is lost and the animal must work harder. Imagine balancing a tray on one hand. If the tray is loaded with marbles and it leans slightly, it's fairly easy for all of the marbles to roll together, and the tray will tip, spilling all of the marbles at one end. If there's a small ridge at the centre, it will help to prevent each half of the tray's marbles from slipping to the other side, and it will be easier to control the tray.

Locations of caudal keels for the Atlantic sailfish (Istiophorus albicans) and the porbeagle shark (Lamna nasus). NB: The cross-section for the sailfish is an extrapolated from available photos of live animals. Image: Gareth Monger.

It's entirely possible that ichthyosaurs employed a similar system, combining a dorsoventrally-compressed peduncle and some sort of keel, to improve stroke efficiency. After two weeks of looking over literature and images online, I stumbled over a paper by Theagarten Lingham-Soliar (2016), which I wish I had a fortnight ago. Lingham-Soliar looked at convergence in lamnid sharks and Jurassic ichthyosaurs, and interpreted the soft-tissue remains in a particular ichthyosaur fossil (funnily enough, the photo later on in this article) as the impression of the animal's twisted-over peduncle. It's sometimes hard to interpret these soft tissue remains, not least because some earlier examples may have been enhanced, but if the fossil remains are suggesting chunky peduncles, it would make sense for them to find their way into artistic reconstructions.

Speculative diagram showing sections through the tail of Ophthalmosaurus. Vertebral column is shown in white, against body outline. Positions for possible keel-like structure indicated by arrows and pink dashed line. Image: Gareth Monger

So if peduncles are in, what of the ridge in the lower lobe, as defined by the distal vertebrae within the caudal fin? I can only approximate since I don't have ready access to an ichthyosaur skeleton, and I haven't yet found a detailed diagram of ichthyosaur musculature. That ridge has always been a feature of my ichthyosaur reconstructions, but those vertebrae are relatively small – they're only half the diameter of the smaller vertebrae in the peduncle, just in front of the caudal fin, forming a fairly narrow column. The majority of the caudal fin comprises soft tissue, presumably including some muscle which would be necessary to perform the adjustments to the fin's form during the stroke, i.e., preventing too much flexing which might negate the improvements brought about by the keel (re: boundary layer fence). Cetaceans do this, and their caudal fins are not especially skinny structures. It's feasible that an ichthyosaur's caudal fin vertebrae would have been bound in enough connective fibres, muscle and other tissues that they might not have been discernible in a healthy individual, and the upper lobe might not look too different to the lower.


Two highlighted caudal vertebrae, one just inside, and one just outside, the caudal fin. Note the those in the fin are approximately half the diameter of some of their nearest neighbours in the peduncle. Photo: Daderot. CC0 1.0; Digital overlays: Gareth Monger

So, considering that ichthyosaurs' forms shows them to be powerful, efficient swimmers, it's not totally unreasonable to at least consider that they might have evolved the anatomy to allow them to live as active, effective predators. And whilst the wider, flattened peduncle is likely, it doesn't automatically follow that they would have had keels as sharply defined as those found in sharks and other fish. Without knowing much about the sorts of integuments that various ichthyosaurs possessed, we can't know if specialised integument was used in a similar manner to the scutes of sailfish and their kin. I'm inclined to think scuted/scaled keels are a bit of a stretch. But a bit of definition to the peduncle might be likely.

Different ichthyosaur species were subjected to different selective pressures and, as with extant aquatic vertebrates, we should expect some variation in the external appearances of the myriad ichthyosaur species.

Lateral view of the chunky Ophthalmosaurus (based on Sander 2000), and a dorsal view extrapolated (well, fudged) from an anterior skeletal (McGowan & Motani 2003), and various pics of the great mount at Peterborough Museum. This dorsal view shows off the wider peduncle, but this still might be a tad skinny. Gotta find a decent ichthyosaur muscle reconstruction! Image: Gareth Monger.

Generalised ichthyosaurs, shown from different angles and displaying their chunky peduncles. 'Pedunkies'? Illustration: Gareth Monger).

The ophthalmosaurid ichthyosaur, Nannopterygius, reconstructed with a keeled peduncle. Illustration: Gareth Monger.


References


Bernvi, D. 2016. Ontogenetic Influences on Endothermy in the Great White Shark (Carcharodon carcharias). 10.13140/RG.2.1.2888.5367

Fish, F. E. (<-- seriously?). Biomechanical Perspective on the Origin of Cetacean Flukes. research.net

Lingham-Solia, T. 1999. Rare Soft Tissue Preservation Showing Fibrous Structures in an Ichthyosaur From the Lower Lias (Jurassic) of England. The Royal Society, 266, 2367–2373.

Lingham-Solia, T. 2016. Convergence in Thunniform Anatomy in Lamnid Sharks and Jurassic Ichthyosaurs. Integrative and Comparative Biology, Volume 56, Issue 6, 1 December 2016, Pages 1323–1336, https://doi.org/10.1093/icb/icw125

Martill, D. N. 1995. An Ichthyosaur With Preserved Soft Tissue From the Sinemurian of Southern England. Palaeontology, Vol. 38, Part 4, 1995, pp. 897–903, 1 p1.

Motani, R. 2005. Evolution of Fish-Shaped Reptiles (Reptilia: Ichthyopterygia) in their Physical Environments and Constraints. arjournals.annualreviews.org

Naish, D. 2008. Ichthyosaur Skin Impressions. http://scienceblogs.com/tetrapodzoology/

Sagong, W., Jeon W-P., Choi H. 2013. Hydrodynamic Characteristics of the Sailfish (Istiophorus platypterus) and Swordfish (Xiphias gladius) in Gliding Postures at Their Cruise Speeds. PLoS ONE 8(12): e81223. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0081323

Veterian Key: Cetaceans. https://veteriankey.com/cetaceans/

Walters, V. 1962. Body Form and Swimming Performance in the Sogmbroid Fishes. Zoologist, 2:143-149.

Sunday, 20 March 2016

The Rocky Transition From Paint To Pixels

Orca flies the flag


Last March, noted zoologist and living-encyclopaedia-on-tetrapods-and-selected-fish, Darren Naish, sent me some outlines to colour for Tetrapod Zoology's April Fools article. Cetacean Heresies detailed the bright colouration of extant cetaceans, and how those colours go undetected by the pitifully inadequate human eye. That black-and-white orca in your ornamental pond? Fringewhiner's Chromatic Truthometer shows it for what it really is: a gay rights poster boy. It's rainbows all the way. Rainbows are good.

Peponocephala and killer whale pod. (By Darren Naish and Gareth Monger; CC-NC-SA 2.0)

Special offers on piss-taking


The article was good fun, and was a veritable 2-for-1 deal; it parodied both a well-known fringe science blog, and one of those inexplicably popular (and subsequently internationally famous) internet memes - a photo of a blue-and-black dress which appeared to some internet users as a white-and-gold dress. In one of those bizarre twists, the woman who originally photographed the dress then came into the printshop where I work to run off a few copies of the photo, and STILL wasn't sick of talking about it.

Skamps (I think that's what we called these at uni) of generalised mosasaurs in different poses and angles. Pencil on paper. (Copyright © 2016 Gareth Monger.)


So why am I milking whales, ten months on? In short, it was the first time I'd used a digital package to put together a full-colour illustration, albeit in a rather rushed manner. At the time, nearly all of my work was coloured by hand, using gouache. (If you're not sure what that is, read my article on gouache at ArtDiscount.) If you are an experienced gouache user, you'll know it's no slower a medium to paint with than anything else, the main limitation to speed being how much detail you want to put into your image. It's considerably quicker to work with than oils, it dries reasonably quickly, and can be forgiving. However, there's a basic set-up time associated with it, namely the time taken to stretch paper, which can, if you're lucky, be as short as a couple of hours. There's nothing better than seeing a perfectly stretched sheet of 140lb Arches watercolour paper, ready to receive its first pencil mark. Conversely, there's nothing worse than seeing that your adhesive tape has failed on one side of your paper, and you've got to redo the whole damn thing. (For hints on paper stretching, see my dA post, here.)


Preliminary sketch (top) of a pair of Platecarpus, with soft tissue outline based on Lindgren et at, 2010. Revised outline (bottom) tweaked to reflect social media comments by palaeontologist Nathan Van Vranken. Note the shorter intermediate caudals' section. Pencil on paper. (Copyright © 2016 Gareth Monger.)


Material costs


This time, however, I heeded advice regarding digital illustration, and figured that these kinds of non-commercial, tight-deadline jobs would benefit from employing a more-speedy process. Material costs are also a consideration, and when a single sheet of paper costs upwards of five pounds, digital art offers a cost-effective alternative. That's not to say I've fallen out of love with toxic pigments and plant-based substrates, it's just that digital painting is very, very convenient. Also, I may go a couple of months without breaking out my paints and, inevitably, they dry out. Yes, they're water-based, but they're also awkward to rehydrate whilst in the tubes. The easiest way to get any use out of dried gouache is to slit open the metal tube and use it in the same way you would a watercolour pan. Of course, you're not really using it as gouache, but it eases the pain of seeing expensive paint dry out.

Pencil outline after some clean-up, and an initial pass through Photoshop to add some body-forming shading. Pencil on paper/digital. (Copyright © 2016 Gareth Monger.)


Going Digital, Sorta...


And so, with last year's April 1st in mind, and probably also inspired by seeing Amin something-or-other's passive-aggressive, and generally unwarranted, comments about Nic Grabow's (I think) deviatART mosasaur, I decided to knock out a quick full-colour render of a mosasaur, complete with background. Google's luck-of-the-draw-type results would determine the genus, which ended up being Platecarpus. Back in 2010, Johan Lindgren, Michael W. Caldwell, Takuya Konishi and Luis M. Chiappe published in PLOS ONE a paper on convergent evolution in aquatic tetrapods, focussing on a specimen of Platecarpus which displayed some excellent soft tissue preservation, and which suggested that a crescent-shaped caudal fin was present in life.

 Lindgren, et al (2010). CC-BY-2.5




A reconstruction in Lindgren et al (2010) (left) suggested a possible soft tissue outline for Platecarpus, based on the specimen discussed in the paper. The dorsal portion of the fluke is only tentatively restored, as implied by the fuzzy margins, but it's enough to offer a hint on how to progress with an illustration for a palaeoartist. Scott Hartman also writes about this at Skeletal Drawing, in the article 'Mosasaur Tails - Teaching the Controversy', and offers a handful of likely shapes which a palaeoartist may wish to adopt. Whatever the case, the traditional view of mosasaurs as having essentially lizard-like tails, albeit laterally compressed and ribbon-like, is out of vogue, especially for later genera, and shows that a more (superficially) traditionally-fish-like fluke was adopted by secondarily aquatic reptiles in several disparate groups. Oh, and dorsal frills are out too, having been mercilessly copied from Charles Knight's Tylosaurus for decades. Hey, I did it (over a decade ago, mind).


A pair of Platecarpus, lured into posing for this image by the promise of a David Attenborough voice-over. Digital. (Copyright © 2016 Gareth Monger.)

So here's my full-colour illustration of two Platecarpus, swimming around calmly like obedient Seaworld killer whales. The original layout was an evening's work; the colour work took a second evening. On the whole, I'm pretty pleased, and yes, of course, there are things I would change/add. Integumentary structures, for example, aren't evident, but then they might not be at this distance. The foreshortening on the caudal fin caused some confusion, with some commenting that the fluke angles were incorrect. They weren't, or, at least, they were based on the aforementioned reference, and it was the foreshortening causing them to appear unfamiliar. But that's to be expected when most pictorial reference is in diagrammatic, lateral view. One noted mosasaur expert didn't like the blubbery look; another palaeontologist figured it simply denoted healthy individuals. There was a speculative angle to this, which was to show a more fluid outline in an animal which spends its entire life in fluid.

But on the whole, not so bad for a couple of evenings' work.

References:

Hartman, S (2016) Mosasaur Tails - "Teaching the Controversy" www.skeletaldrawing.com/home/mosasaurs-teaching-the-controversy

Lindgren J, Caldwell MW, Konishi T, Chiappe LM (2010) Convergent Evolution in Aquatic Tetrapods: Insights from an Exceptional Fossil Mosasaur. PLoS ONE 5(8): e11998. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0011998

Naish, D (2015) Cetacean Heresies: How The Chromatic Truthometer Busts The Monochromatic Paradigm. http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/tetrapod-zoology/cetacean-heresies-how-the-chromatic-truthometer-busts-the-monochromatic-paradigm/


Want to support me?


If you like what you're reading and you want to help me keep this going, maybe take a look at my Redbubble page? Here's a mostly-relevant mosasaur (Globidens, not Platecarpus, but who cares?):


Globidens, Haida-style, available on t-shirts, mugs, and a butt-load of other stuff, via Redbubble.