What it is for an artist to be drawn at once to two disciplines-to painting and sculpture and to be equally talented in the two media. Can they be reconciled?

Martin Hayward-Harris may be blessed or otherwise in that he is comfortable in both media. They don't appear to conflict - his interest and obsession with nature and wildlife vitalize both sides of his art. So where do the dead dogs in Gorki Park come in, or for that matter life size ostriches for benny Hill and a dog with Rasta style ringlets for Lenny Henry?

These surreal items entered his life when his tutors at recommended him for vacation work at Shepperton Studios. Here he discovered a gift for modelmaking which was to provide him with his livelihood for many years.

Martin's special talent is the ability to transform unlikely materials into realistic objects - which brings us to the dead dogs of the title. These were models of Dobermans needed for the film Gorki Park. Since the had to be dead Martin sculpted them from soft material used for making teddy bears. He then added fur over the floppy bodies, modelled the ferocious jaws and the 'dead dogs' were thrown into the Russian snow!

His ingenuity was further revealed when he made a life size dog, that looked rather life-size dog, that looked rather like Dougal form 'Magic Roundabout'. This breed is completely covered with long 'ringlets' and Martins unravelled as many black jumpers as he could find and dressed his model of the dog in the resulting curly wool. This was used in one of Lenny henry's comedy sketches.

But where did it begin? Born in 1959, at eight years old he was already constructing birds and animals out of cornflakes boxes and offcuts of wood. At 13, in Germany, he was hacking a stallion out of sandstone and causing the master masons in the quarry to take notice - a horse in stone that proved excellent enough for British contingent to present it to their hosts on departure.

As he developed, he was drawings the countryside as well. He recorded its ruined out buildings, hedgerows, skyline tractors, cows and flocking of sheep.

His art teacher urged him to widen his drawing scope and encouraged him to exploit wood, metal, stone and ceramics. She guided him towards an Art Foundation course but he still made no decision - graphics, typography, book illustration all competed with each other.

He now considers it a blessing that he did not enroll on a Wildlife illustration Diploma course. He predelictions were not indulged but his scope was widened. He might clamber onto frozen lakes to capture the ice-light or seek out Grey Wagtails on the Kennet but his art school education was equipping him with a broadbased training.

Later he applied for a coveted post among model and diorama - makers at the Natural History Museum where he worked for five years before throwing it all up and travelling to Kenya.

But not before he had constructed (among many other things) a life size dolphin, a narwhal and a three meter blue whale and calf. This last model is so rhythmic and perfect is composition that I believe it constitutes 'art' - even 'fine art' at that. Judge for yourself - it is still on exhibition there.

The escape to Kenya meant five months living rough and some hair-raising adventures. But from his experiences a rich sketchbook resulted and an influential meeting with sculptor Rob Glenn.

Back in England and against much competition, he obtained a post at the Copenhagen Natural History Museum, again as a model-maker and taxidermist. This brought unrivalled opportunities to study skins; to seek out godwits and Goshawk in Zeeland; to draw and paint with colleagues Jon Fjeldsa and Elsa Bereng. They raised the obvious and uncomfortable question was he to be a fine artist or an institutionalised craftsman? He resigned to become a freelance artist at last. First however, he followed Robert Gillmor's advice and for some months studied the work of that giant among wildlife artists Bruno Liljefors in Stockholm museums. It was on this trip he first met Lars Jonsson and admired the, then new, plates for his Birds Of Europe.

Then came the inexorable return to Britain as a freelance and the dichtomy between his interest in painting and sculpture. Things went well - two shows were sell-outs. He exhibited at the British Trust for Omnithology conferences. He wove color, paint and observation closer together, as his masters had done. He was shaking off the tyranny of the museum approach and the strait-jacket of photographic realism.

He joined courses by Robert Gillmore at Martin Mere; by John Busby at the Firth of Forth and my own on Skokholm Island. He developed his eyes there for Razorbills, Puffins and Peregrines. Observation and incident were captured with increasing confidence.

Sculpture must be seen in the round to make its full impact. Martin's His approach to modelling is to simplify to realise the underlying forms which mean 'owl' to us and then to infuse them with character and life without fussing over them. Around the head - the effect is almost cubist in style, as Martin has examined the complex angles of the facial disc which gives searching expression. The bird is cast in bronze and its weight reflects this. (Edition of nine)