Scott-Rogers
Scott RogersRelease for Sleepwalkers (Peafowl, Golden Pheasant, Lady Amherst’s Pheasant, Crested Pigeon), 2022.
Photo: courtesy of the artist

Corvo, or the Corsican Nuthatch: A Tale of Two Twitches

Scott Rogers
As a birder and an artist, I find these dual obsessions inextricable, especially when travelling. Before going to install an exhibition, I will research nearby nature reserves — welcome escapes from gallery pressures. At Venice, documenta, and other international art events, I compile observations on my phone while walking between pavilions, my binoculars placed at the ready in a complimentary tote bag. More than vocations or pastimes, art and birds are my ways of navigating the world — encounters with my own relativism to other ecologies, economies, politics, people, and land. These forms of tourism bring me to places to experience art that is unavailable where I live and birds that are not found around my home.

In birding, the difference between a rarity and an everyday species is also relative. What is common in one location can be exceedingly unusual elsewhere. For the bird, this most likely means being lost — a wayward soul at the mercy of the wind or weather, exhausted and forced to choose a flightpath beyond its control. A Rose-breasted Grosbeak in Ontario is certainly a pleasure to behold, but displaced to Shetland it might draw in hundreds of camera-toting enthusiasts like the gravity of a superdense star. Alternatively, a rare species could also be an incomer in search of better places to live. The endemic birds of many islands started out this way, when a small population self-introduced and evolved to its locality. Such is the case of the Corsican Nuthatch, a bird found only in the high mountains of its namesake isle.

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This article also appears in the issue 111 - Tourism
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