Have you ever noticed the subtle presence of dogs in the grandest of paintings? It's a delightful game to play, especially when you're feeling a bit weary amidst the grandeur of an art gallery. Take, for instance, Paolo Veronese's “The Wedding at Cana”, a masterpiece that adorns the refectory of the Venetian monastery San Giorgio Maggiore. Amidst the bustling scene, there they are – dogs, peering curiously, patiently waiting, or hungrily eyeing the feast. It's a delightful surprise, isn't it?
This hidden canine presence in art is the subject of Thomas Laqueur's book, “The Dog's Gaze: A Visual History”. Laqueur, an American cultural historian, became aware of this phenomenon after becoming a dog owner himself. He writes about the unique role dogs play in art, from classical antiquity to the present, and how their presence adds a layer of depth and narrative to the paintings.
The Canine Companions
Laqueur's choice to focus on dogs rather than cats is an interesting one. He argues that cats, being independent and elusive, are harder to capture in art. Dogs, on the other hand, are social creatures, their attentive gaze and close observation of human movements make them stand out in paintings. They serve as four-legged gallery guides, drawing our attention and creating a visual story.
Consider Vittore Carpaccio's “Young Knight in a Landscape”, where the dogs bordering the central figure appear like eager theatergoers, straining to see the action. Or, in Titian's “Diana and Actaeon”, the goddess's lapdog is the first to notice the intrusion, its yapping a warning sign. These dogs add a layer of drama and narrative to the paintings, enhancing the viewer's experience.
Humanizing the Human
In portraits, dogs often serve to humanize the human subject. Take Bronzino's “Lady in Red”, where the smart little spaniel by her side reflects her attentive and loyal nature. Similarly, Titian's portrait of Federico II Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, with a fluffy white Maltese, seems to suggest a more compassionate side to the Duke, who had a rather scandalous private life. Laqueur wittily remarks, “Anyone who is this nice to a small dog who loves him can't be the monster he might appear to be.”
A Touch of Humor
While “The Dog's Gaze” is an enjoyable read, it could have benefited from a bit more humor. Laqueur imagines a dog-authored version of the book titled “What the Dog Smells”, which is a fun idea. The double portrait of Bartolomeo Passerotti and his pooch on the cover is not just a schematic of interspecies tenderness, but also a humorous take on the master-pet relationship, with their noses almost touching and the dog's whiskers mimicking its master's mustache.
Artistic Affection for Dogs
Laqueur's book also highlights the affection several artists had for their four-legged friends. Constantin Brancusi's samoyed, Polaire, was a constant companion, joining him at work and in cafes. Lucian Freud's portraits often featured dogs, drawn to their lack of arrogance and eagerness. Pablo Picasso's dachshund, Lump, was described as “not a dog, he's a little man, he's somebody else.” Even Paul Gauguin identified himself as a “rough, shaggy” dog.
Veronese's Defiant Dogs
Veronese's inclusion of dogs in his paintings, particularly in “The Feast in the House of Levi” (formerly known as “The Last Supper”), is a fascinating story. When called before the Inquisition, Veronese was ordered to remove the hound from the painting, as it was deemed inappropriate for a religious scene. Veronese's creative defense was ignored, but he found a clever solution – he changed the name of the painting, transforming it from a religious feast to a more secular dinner, where even canines are welcome.
Conclusion
Laqueur's book is a delightful exploration of the role of dogs in art. It's a unique perspective, offering a fresh way to look at and appreciate the masterpieces of the past. As I reflect on these canine companions in art, I can't help but wonder about the stories they could tell, the secrets they might have witnessed, and the ways they've influenced the artists who painted them. It's a fascinating journey, and one that I highly recommend for any art lover or dog enthusiast.
