Audubon South Carolina

April 26, 2008
Walks begin at 5:30 p.m.
Join expert birdwatchers for an evening on the boardwalk and explore the wide variety of songbirds that travel to Beidler Forest each Spring. Enjoy hors d'oeuvres and wine tastings as you explore the ancient swamp forest. Proceeds benefit Audubon South Carolina.

$35.00 per person. Reservations and advance payment are required. Please make reservations for your time slot by calling (843) 462-2150.

For more information on this and other events: Click Here

BIRDS OF THE HUYCK PRESERVE JULY – AUGUST, 2007

FEATURING 34 HANDCOLORED AUDUBON PRINTS REPRODUCED ‘IN SITU’ -- SOME WITH AUDUBON’S COMPLETE TEXT –

FROM THE ELDRIDGE-AUDUBON 1856 OCTAVO EDITION, BIRDS OF AMERICA

This exhibit celebrates the television premiere of the PBS/American Masters film-- "John James Audubon:Drawn From Nature" scheduled to air nationally on PBS, Wednesday, July 25, 2007. The film had its world premiere here in Rensselaeville, NY, on October 21, 2006, at a conference on John James Audubon sponsored by the Edmund Niles Huyck Preserve and the Rensselaerville Institute. The producer/director of the film, Larry Hott, and his wife, Diane Gary, its editor, were in attendance. 
 
John James Audubon’s print of the Belted Kingfisher, reproduced from Volume IV, page 205, of the 1856 Eldridge-Audubon Octavos and returned to life-size, leads off. It is accompanied by discussion in Audubon’s own words explaining how this bird became the first portrayed as "Drawn from Nature" -- and exactly life-sized.  The new-found ability to capture birds in action proved highly popular and Audubon exploited this talent to varying degrees in a total of 500 ‘octavo-size’ studies, octavo because they are one eighth the size of his formidable double-elephant prints.

Thirty-four of these octavo-size prints, double matted and readily accessible to the viewer, trace the emotional spectrum of Audubon as artist and entrepreneur. Dramatic, imposing prints such as the familiar Bald Eagle and Fish Hawk/Osprey are followed by equally well known prints conveying high energy such as the Common Mockingbird, Yellow Chat and Robin (yes, the American Robin!).

The Peewee Flycatcher, or Phoebe, marks a turning point in the exhibition. The two prints on exhibit of this near-ubiquitous bird, rather mundane in appearance, are not themselves exceptional. They consist of a full 24 inch by 36 inch sheet with male and female Peewee portrayed life-size perched on a cotton plant as well as the 6 inch by 10 inch octavo print. But accompanying the prints is a remarkable essay in natural history – a twenty year old’s observations gained from a summer in 1804 or 1805 living much of the time in a cave home to a family of Peewees.

The literary quality of the essay reflects on Audubon the writer while the science – he alludes to several concepts in gene flow while introducing, and then testing, the practice of bird-banding -- is impressive. Elizabeth Derryberry, author of a recent study on the evolution of birdsong, with whom I shared his essay, writes “The text on the peewee was a delight to read! …This particular text was amazing as he touched on so many ideas including when females begin to incubate and why, the idea of territoriality and of habitat specification.” (Personal communication from the author, July 15, 2007, to view her original study in Evolution click here.)

It was just this intimate, engaging account of birds observed in North America that in 1827 helped gain Audubon membership in the Wernarian Society of Edinburgh -- the most prestigious natural history society of its day -- and later, invitation to join the Royal Society of London.  Only one other American received similar recognition from the FRS before the Civil War -- Benjamin Franklin.

The visitor, once he or she digests this message, enters a quieter space. Simple, beautiful prints such as American Goldfinch, Blackburnian Warbler, and the White-Crowned Sparrow beckon.

The last stop includes an exhibit case containing birds found on the Huyck Preserve by the mid-twentieth naturalist, Francis Harper. On the bottom shelf in the far right-hand corner of the case is Volume 1 of the Eldridge-Audubon Octavos, opened to page 146. It contains Audubon’s Plate 39, The Great Horned Owl, hand-colored. Looking down from a perch eight feet above the proceedings is a heavy, unpainted, life-size replica of the Great Horned Owl. Three other replicas, painted, are perched under the eves of The Rensselaerville Library. Sadly, the library was subject to a recent embezzlement so that staff salaries are in jeopardy.

Proceeds from the sale of limited edition prints, which have been reproduced in situ, of both the Great Horned Owl and the PeeWee Flycatcher will benefit the library. Proceeds from sale of the Belted Kingfisher and the Great Blue Heron prints will benefit the Huyck Preserve. Sale of prints of Audubon’s four nuthatches – a favorite grouping of mine – will benefit both organizations.

The exhibit will run through August, 2007.

Images of all 34 current bird prints with pricing along with information on 45 bird prints reproduced earlier, including all 14 of Audubon’s owls, appear on my website www.audubonoctavos.com under "Birds, Index, Price List".

Wednesday, July 25, 2007 at 9:00 PM.

The documentary American Masters John James Audubon: "Drawn from Nature" made its broadcast premier on national PBS.

Drawn from Nature:
Audubon’s Artistic and Written Legacy
By Laura Harbold
Humanities, Volume 28, Number 2, 2007
(March-April), pages 14-15.

“Audubon was unique among all the other immigrants and frontiersmen because he put his business interests aside and decided to live for his art,” says Larry Hott, director and coproducer of the American Masters/PBS documentary John James Audubon: Drawn from Nature. “Although that kind of philosophy appeared a lot in 1960s hippie culture, it wasn’t a big part of the American frontier experience.”

Drawn from Nature, a new NEH-funded documentary, is the story of a man full of such contradictions. Audubon was both a cunning entrepreneur and a rugged outdoorsman, as comfortable in the drawing rooms of Europe as the unmapped forests of America. Today, Audubon’s name is synonymous with American conservation, but he was an extravagant hunter. “Audubon didn’t think it was a good day unless he’d killed a hundred birds,” Hott says. “In his lifetime, he killed thousands. Yet Audubon began writing about loss of habitat earlier than anyone else in America. He was the first to sound the clarion call that there was a problem.”

Today, Audubon’s work itself is endangered. Octavo editions of Birds of America, a seven-volume set of 650 hand-colored prints published in 1840, are being torn apart so that prints can be sold individually. “I hope to convince people that these sets are more valuable intact than they are apart,” says Roswell Eldridge, who organized the Audubon conference at which Drawn from Nature premiered last fall. “Audubon produced the most extraordinary art book in the United States.”

It took Audubon more than a decade to complete his ornithological catalog, often at the expense of his family and finances. He spent hours observing birds in their natural habitats, then shot them, using scatter pellets to lessen the damage to their bodies. For Audubon, Eldridge says, “a bird was like a rose. You admired the color, you admired the fragrance, and you picked it without much emotional reaction.”

Audubon pinned his specimens to a wooden grid, arranging their wings, tails, and heads in life-like positions. Using a duplicate grid, he sketched the birds exactly to scale, reproducing each feather to the smallest detail.

It’s not only anatomical precision that makes Audubon’s paintings so captivating, Hott says. “His work is emotional. His birds are anthropomorphized; they have personalities. You begin to care about these birds. This is what separates Audubon from other ornithological artists.”

Birds of America is not only an arresting visual feat, but a literary triumph, Hott explains. Audubon, for whom English was a second language, describes the behaviors of each bird with remarkable wit and affection.
Audubon was born in Haiti on April 26, 1785, the son of a French ship’s captain and a local chambermaid. His mother died six months after his birth, and Audubon was reared by a group of Haitian women until a slave rebellion forced Captain Audubon to flee with his son to Nantes, France, in 1791. But the French Revolution and counterrevolutionary efforts allowed no respite from the violence in Haiti. Audubon witnessed the imprisonment and slaughter of hundreds of townspeople. So many prisoners were drowned in the nearby Loire River that it became unsafe to fish there for years.

The horrors Audubon experienced as a child shaped the course of his adult life, says Richard Rhodes, author of John James Audubon, a 2004 biography. During his adolescence, Audubon spent more and more time in the forest studying wildlife. He was particularly interested in bringing animals back to life, Rhodes says. “He couldn’t really reanimate them, but he discovered he could draw them. There’s a linkage between his almost-obsessive fascination with nature and the trauma of his childhood experience. It’s much easier to look at birds in their environment than to connect with people.”

In Audubon’s art, however, the natural world is not always peaceful. Many paintings show birds in pursuit of prey; Audubon depicts peregrine falcons engaged in a frenzied, bloody attack on a pair of ducks. “It’s an arresting image,” says Audubon scholar Bill Steiner. “Audubon knew that animals kill other animals for the pure joy of it. When these prints go up for auction, you can feel the room tense up.”

When Audubon was eighteen, he left France to avoid conscription in Napoleon’s army. He assumed control of an estate his father had purchased outside of Philadelphia. According to Rhodes, Audubon was a member of the first “truly American” generation. “Audubon couldn’t have been more French when he arrived,” Rhodes says. “But he moved west, he became an explorer, he founded businesses, he turned himself into a professional artist—what could be more American than having two or three careers?”

In Philadelphia, Audubon filled his library with natural artifacts—animal skulls, skins, and his own collection of drawings. Within a year he met Lucy Bakewell, the reserved, educated daughter of his neighbor. She became his wife, and one of the dominant influences in his life. “Lucy and Audubon were a curiously modern couple,” Rhodes says. “He gave her full credit for her intelligence, wisdom, and understanding. He displayed very little of the paternalism prevalent in nineteenth-century culture.”

The Audubons moved to Louisville, Kentucky, and established a general store. Their first son, Victor, was born in 1809, followed by John Woodhouse in 1812. Audubon opened a second store and quickly became one of the wealthiest men in the community. He built a steam mill, an enormous investment which proved difficult to manage. Soon, Audubon’s dedication to studying and drawing birds began to interfere with his business.

The Panic of 1819, a sudden economic depression which caused banks across the United States to call in their loans, cemented Audubon’s financial trouble. He was jailed and forced to declare bankruptcy. The Audubons’ house and possessions were put up for auction. Because no one wanted Audubon’s paintings of birds, they were returned to him.

The bankruptcy shattered Audubon emotionally. According to Rhodes, Lucy Audubon realized that her husband’s dream of creating an American ornithology was essential to rebuilding his self-confidence. “She knew the book would give him back feelings of worth as a human being, as a man,” Rhodes says.

In 1820, Audubon left Lucy and his children and set off down the Ohio River in search of specimens for what would become Birds of America. A year later, he arrived in New Orleans, where he earned a living by painting portraits. One day, a veiled woman approached him and asked him to draw her, in the nude. Audubon, though shocked and nervous, complied. Strangely, he recounted the colorful incident to Lucy in a detailed letter.
“We wondered whether we should include this scene in the film. Is it gratuitous?” Hott says. “In the end, I’m glad we decided to keep it. This is the kind of thing that drew us to Audubon. He was a real man with real passions and weaknesses. He suffered for his art, and his wife and family suffered too.”

Audubon took his portfolio to the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, hoping to find a publisher for Birds of America. Unfortunately, his arrogance and unkempt appearance alienated his potential investors. Convinced that his book would never be printed in the United States, he sailed to Liverpool. In England, Audubon’s rugged provinciality made him an overnight sensation, Rhodes says. James Fennimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans had been published six months before his arrival. The novel’s widespread popularity generated dozens of spin-off products, such as character dolls and painted dinner plates. Audubon’s outdoor dress, shoulder-length hair and bronzed skin seemed like a vision straight out of the novel, although “he was actually a fairly sophisticated urban man,” Rhodes explains. Audubon was immediately invited to dinner parties in all of the city’s finest homes.

“He was charming—he played the violin, he danced, he knew all the frontier lore. The English ladies would say, ‘Oh, Mr. Audubon, give us an owl call. Oh, Mr. Audubon, show us how the Indians dance,” Rhodes says. “He wearied quickly of being the cardboard frontiersman, but he knew these people were his potential subscribers.” Audubon toured Edinburgh, London, and Paris with his portfolio under one arm and single-handedly raised the money necessary to finance his project.

It was not simply Audubon’s exotic appearance that impressed Europe’s elite, but the originality of his art. “People were starved for images in those days,” Rhodes explains. “Audubon’s work is full of energy, life, love, violence, and color. To walk into a hall filled with his paintings would have been like seeing an IMAX movie today.”

Turning Audubon’s watercolors into prints was itself an elaborate process. Robert Havell, Sr., London’s preeminent engraver, took on the bulk of the project. Havell and his assistants traced every detail of Audubon’s original paintings and transferred the image to a copper plate. “It looks like the image has been printed on the copper—it’s so shallow, so fine,” says Steiner. Completed prints were circulated among fifty or sixty watercolorists, primarily young women, who were responsible for filling in a single color each. A master colorist made final changes, Steiner explains, and therefore “every print is different.”

One of Audubon’s most striking works is the golden eagle, a painting which includes a rare self-portrait. Beyond the eagle, which clutches a rabbit in its talons, a hunter shimmies across a log with a sling of birds on his back. Robert Peck, a fellow of Philadelphia’s Academy of Natural Sciences, suggests that Audubon’s self-portrait, although it never appeared in the final print, represents his understanding of the relationship between humans and nature. “Nature is up front and the human race is a diminutive footnote,” Peck says. “It’s the reverse of the usual representation.”

Many of the birds Audubon painted are now extinct, along with much of the American wilderness that was their home. The Carolina parakeet, the passenger pigeon, and the Eskimo curlew were gone within decades of Audubon’s death. “There was such an abundance of wildlife in his youth that he and everyone else thought the supply was infinite,” Peck explains. “But as he grew older, he was disappointed by the terrible destruction he saw.”

Today, Audubon’s legacy lives on through the National Audubon Society, an organization dedicated to preserving America’s natural heritage. “Most people know the name Audubon,” Hott says, “but they don’t know much about him.” Drawn from Nature is the tale of a man who destroyed the birds he loved, of a hunter who took a lifetime to become a conservationist. Audubon was a blend of American simplicity and European sophistication, of artist and entrepreneur. He was passionate, extravagant, and faultlessly loyal to the birds which made him famous. “It’s a love story,” Hott says. “That’s what’s so great about Audubon.”

Laura Harbold is a writer in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Lawrence R. Hott and Florentine Association for Media Artists received $400,000 in NEH funding to create JOHN JAMES AUDUBON: DRAWN FROM NATURE.

The Charleston, SC, premiere of the American Masters Film on John James Audubon took place in the evening with one of the producers, Larry Hott, present but a number of events had been planned for him that day.  Some of these are described below.

He was taken to Cole Island by a group that included Mary Miller, organizer of the Charleston film premiere and Reference Librarian, Charleston County Library.

Background:  R E  had the good luck to grow up with John James Audubon in the household. As a college student in Boston about 1920, RE’s father had bought-and preserved a beautiful ten volume set of the birds and quadrupeds of North America published by John James Audubon and family in 1856. In addition to 655 prints, the volumes included over 3000 pages of text by the frontiersman, woodsman, and self-taught naturalist which R E found as interesting and enjoyable as the individual prints.  Sadly, R E found that few were aware of this side of Audubon, even in Charleston, SC, which remains a center for Audubon study, and where R E’s wife has been involved in medical research in recent years.

A popular Audubon bird print in Charleston is that of 2 long billed curlews, the largest member of the sandpiper family and is pictured below. The circa 1830 skyline of Charleston appears in the background. In one of his picturesque accounts Audubon describes watching at sunset while several thousand of these large birds fly in a silent band toward an island he and his party had reached by rowing earlier that day. The island was Cole Island. Here are excerpts from that account:

355            LONG BILLED CURLEW

"The Long-billed Curlew spends the day in the sea-marshes, from which it returns at the approach of night, to the sandy beaches of the sea-shores, where it rests until dawn. As the sun sinks beneath the horizon, the Curlews rise from their feeding--rounds in small parties, seldom exceeding fifteen or twenty, and more usually  composed of only five or six individuals. The flocks enlarge, however, as they proceed, and in the course of an hour or so the number of birds that collect in the place selected for their nightly retreat sometimes amounts to several thousands. As it was my good fortune to witness their departures and arrivals in the company of my friend BACHMAN, I will here describe them.

Accompanied by several friends, I left Charleston one beautiful morning, the 10th of November, 1831, with a view to visit Cole Island, about twenty miles distant. Our crew was good, and although our pilot knew but little of the cuttings in and out of the numerous inlets and channels in our way, we reached the island about noon.

After shooting various birds, examining the island, and depositing stir provisions in a small summer habitation then untenanted, we separated; some of the servants went off to fish, others to gather oysters, and the gunners placed themselves in readiness for the  arrival of the Curlews. The sun at length sunk beneath the water-line that here formed the horizon; and we saw the birds making their first appearance. They were in small parties of two, three, or five, and by no means shy.

These seemed to be the birds which we had observed near the salt-marshes, as we were on our way. As the twilight became darker the number of Curlews increased, and the flocks approached in quicker succession, until they appeared to form a continuous procession, moving not in lines, one after another, but in an extended mass, and with considerable regularity, at a height of not more than thirty yards, the individuals being a few feet apart.

Not a single note or cry was heard as they advanced. They moved for ten or more yards with regular flappings, and then sailed for a few seconds, as is invariably the mode of flight of this species, their long bills and legs stretched out to their full extent. They flew directly towards their place of rest, called the  "Bird Banks," and were seen to alight without performing any of the evolutions which they exhibit when at their feeding-places, for they had not been disturbed that season.

But when we followed them to the Bird Banks, which are sandy islands of small extent, the moment they saw us land, the congregated flocks, probably amounting to several thousand individuals all standing close together, rose at once, performed a few evolutions in perfect silence, and re-alighted as if with one accord on the extreme margins of the sand-bank close to tremendous breakers. It was now dark, and we left the place, although some flocks were still arriving. The next morning we returned a little before day; but again as we landed, they all rose a few yards in the air, separated into numerous parties, and dispersing in various directions, flew off towards their feeding-grounds, keeping low over the waters, until they reached the shores, when they ascended to the height of about a hundred yards,  and soon disappeared.

Now, reader, allow me to say a few words respecting our lodgings. Fish, fowl, and oysters had been procured in abundance; and besides these delicacies, we had taken with us from Charleston some steaks of beef, and a sufficiency of good beverage. But we had no cook, save your bumble servant. A blazing fire warmed and lighted our only apartment. The oysters and fish were thrown on the hot embers; the steaks we stuck on sticks in front of them; and ere long every one felt perfectly contented. It is true we had forgotten to bring salt with us; but I soon proved to my merry companions that hunters can find a good substitute in their powder-flasks. Our salt on this occasion was gunpowder, as it has been with me many a time; and to our keen appetites, the steaks thus salted were quite as savoury as any of us ever found the best cooked at home. Our fingers and mouths, no doubt, bore marks of the "villanous saltpetre," or rather of the charcoal  with which it was mixed, for plates or forks we had none; but this only increased our mirth. Supper over, we spread out our blankets on the log floor, extended ourselves on them with our feet towards the fire, and our arms under our heads for pillows. I need not tell you how soundly we slept."

Waiting on Cole Island to greet Larry Hott and party was one of the island’s present owners, George B.

Background:  The following outline is from notes taken by R E in the spring of 2005 during several conversations with George B. and friends.  George is an engaging retired serviceman and Charleston native who worked  part-time on the island as a youth – and rode-out at least one hurricaine there.

George B:  born Charleston, SC, 1936, identical twin (Mike)--raised in center Charleston near the “first orphanage” in the US—family owned or rented Cole Island—uncle, with help from twins ran commercial fishing operation about time of W W II -- George and several others bought Cole Island in the 1990’s.

Present view toward Cole Island which is to the right beyond the bend.	George B. is on the left, Larry Hott is in front on the right.  The sturdy cabin was probably built in the 1990s. Juanita Eldridge and her friend, Sue Rich, contributed the photographs.

George told numerous stories, mainly about his youth -“fighting all through the war”- boxing was popular then (Joe Lewis was heavyweight champ) he and his twin brother, at age 5 or 6, opened the Charleston golden gloves - wearing boxing gloves that reached above their elbows and boxing several rounds - through the war they would fight each weekend - different rings—for troops or wounded vets—after boxing they would be lifted over ropes and passed around by audience. He and twin, mike, working for his uncle on Cole Island as  teenagers in all season’s when school out—emptying 1000 foot long fish trap—some flounder so big they would extend over edge of large tug/bucket—when one large one flipped out and got into pluff mud mike was sent/pushed out by uncle to grab it—wrestling match ensued—finally mike, grabbing flounder by tail with both hands, flipped him back into cage while tumbling backward—much laughing. With uncle, and homing pigeons, riding out first half of  hurricane on Cole island as youth—in cabin, surging water on both side—when eye overhead they released homing pigeon for family/coast guard with message indicating they were going to make it—pigeon knocked by winds into water repeatedly while outward bound but reached destination—large gash under wing. -rescued injured ‘skimmer’ which then imprinted on George—would  follow him about on Cole Island - dolphins ‘herding’ small fish onto banks of Cole River when tide right—would then come onto bank after the fish, grab one, and slide/tumble back into water—noisy— scary if you did not know what was happening, especially at night.

Observations on the long billed curlew.  George thinks he saw them on Cole Island as youth—in the cabin there is a group photo—all male—George about 12 yrs old holding shore bird but not l b c--he does not remember seeing bird with that characteristic bill since.
  
Conclusion.  Both George and his sister Jackie are interested in seeing Cole Island preserved—foot path for observers/visitors maintained—birds, including the long billed curlew returned.

Later in the morning, Larry Hott visited Sherry Browne's Studio Open, Folly Beach.
	Sherry is shown beside "JJ", one of her Audubon take-offs done with 'paper cuts'

7 pm Charleston, SC, premiere of American Masters John James Audubon: Drawn from Nature. The film was shown in the early evening at the Charleston County Library to a packed audience.  I am told at  least one question for Larry concerned Audubon’s great friend and fellow naturalist, James Bachman.....

Later in the evening, at a party given by Mary Miller, Larry Hott picked one name from over 222 entries submitted during the ‘virtual party’ on April 26, 2007.   John James Audubon was born in 1785, exactly 222 years before, on the island of Santa Domingo.

Thursday, April 26th, 2007

In Celebration of the 222nd Anniversary of Audubon's Birth

Where:    Palmer House Cafe and Gallery, Rensselaerville, NY
When:      Thursday, April 26, 2007
Why:        To mark 222nd birthday of john james audubon
Why:        Debut of my website ' www.audubonoctavos.com ' preserving an endangered species, the audubon octavo volumes 
Why:        Announcing fundraising agreement to support whooping crane recovery with www.operationmigration.org
Who:       Larry Hott and Diane Garey, producers of the documentary,  American Masters John James Audubon: Drawn From Nature are invited guests. 

One visitor to this site during the twenty-four hour period beginning at 12:01 AM (EST) on Thursday, April 26th, 2007 - provided there are 222 or more visitors - will be selected to receive a print.  I will cover the cost of mailing to the individual anywhere in North America a print, framed if desired, of either the Whooping Crane or Sandhill Crane.  The individual will have a choice of: print format -- page with script, or crane image only, print size -- octavo size (8 1/2" x 11") or life size (24" x 36") and paper type -- Archival Photo or heavy weight cotton rag Giclee 

Just visit the site at some point during the day and take note of the number visitor you are based on the "hit counter" at the bottom of this page, e-mail Roswell with this number and cross your fingers... Roswell  Eldridge MD

The Eldridge-Audubon Octavos Initiative and Operation Migration Collaborative:

Roswell Eldridge is one of Operation Migration’s newest supporters and is himself involved in a rescue effort.  Rare volumes of John James Audubon's Birds of America, octavo edition, are being destroyed as individual prints are removed and sold, Audubon's  text discarded.  But Roswell has demonstrated that fine, collectable prints can be produced from intact volumes and that  accompanying booklets containing Audubon's complete, personal descriptions are themselves of value. Roswell is offering for sale through OM only, limited edition prints, with booklets, of the Adult Whooping Crane and 'Young' Whooping Crane from his intact 150 year old volumes.  (Audubon mistook the Sandhill Crane for a young Whooper).  He is contributing all proceeds to OM.

Sunday, March 25, 2007 at 1:30 p.m. - Washington, DC.

American Masters John James Audubon: "Drawn from Nature" was shown in Washington, DC, at the National Portrait Gallery as part of the Environmental Film Festival in the nation's capital.

Sunday, February 4th, 2007

Framed prints from the show below are still available!

CONSIDER A FINE PRINT PRODUCED IN SITU FROM THE INTACT LEWIS A. ELDRIDGE JR., 1856 OCTAVO SET OF JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, BIRDS OF AMERICA. BUY AN ELDRIDGE PRINT - PRESERVE AN AUDUBON OCTAVO! 

Saturday, October 21, 2006 @ Rensselaerville Institute and Conference Center
John James Audubon and his America
Revisited in Film and Conversation, hosted by the Edmund Niles Huyck Preserve

A conference featuring the World Premier of the PBS Film: American Masters John James Audubon: "Drawn from Nature" – The film is a co-production of Florentine Films/Hott Productions and American Masters, Thirteen/WNET, N.Y. Funding is provided by the National Endowment for the Humanities, the National Endowment for the Arts, the W.P. Carey Foundation and Roswell Eldridge, M.D. To learn more about the film, please visit: www.florentinefilms.org