wordless vintage wednesday

from the museum collection

sitting cat, 1918

• Gift of G.A. de Graag (PD)  http://hdl.handle.net/10934/RM0001.COLLECT.205698
• https://www.rijksmuseum.nl

Here is another wonderful Julie deGraag, for no reason other than I love it and want you to love it too.  Look at those shoulder stripes!

draw a hedgehog in french

By patricia m from france (les animaux 55) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

From a French book of drawing instructions titled "Les Animaux tels qu'ils sont" (Animals As They Are):  here is how you draw Le Herisson, The Hedgehog.  Bonus! Le Porc-Epic (porcupine!) at the bottom!
Would you like to see the whole book?  It has instructions for a very large variety of animals, and is lovely in its own right. Here you are.

two tender creatures

Smithsonian American Art Museum http://edan.si.edu/saam/id/object/1977.92

"Sit for me just a little," I imagine J. Alden Weir saying to his wife Anna sometime round 1890. "I want to paint you exactly as you are right now."  The result was this small impressionistic oil "Portrait of a Lady with a Dog (Anna Baker Weir),"  kept in the family till the 1970's.  (The dog's name was Gyp.)  Weir was a member of "The Ten," the breakaway group of American artists that challenged stylistic and exhibition norms of the time. An interesting and detailed account of Weir can be found on the NPS.gov site of his farm, here.

wordless vintage wednesday - new!

from the museum collection

"my ninth cat keeps calling you and hanging up"

thanks pixabay 

Something lighthearted today:  a random find at McSweeney's Internet Tendency.
"My sixteenth cat lies and lies.  My seventeenth cat keep anonymously commenting 'looks stupid' on YouTube videos of cute babies." 
It goes downhill from there.  "What My Pets Say About Me," by Jeff Alberts.

animated natural history: why dogs have floppy ears

thanks british library (PD)

Wolves: upright, pointy ears.  Most dogs: floppy ears.
Hares and wild rabbits: Ears up.  Many domesticated rabbits: Soft floppy ears. 
Boars/pigs? Check. Goats/goats? Check.  Cats/Cats? Um - that one doesn't work; they're all up and pointy, wild or no. (Cats: Throwing wrenches in the works since...ever.)
Still, the ear phenomenon is prevalent enough that it sparks curiosity.  And when I ran across this short, entertaining animation on the subject at NPR, I learned the latest research on why those ears (and those shorter muzzles and those spotted coats).  A publication by Charles Darwin is namechecked: "The variation of plants and animals under domestication."  Want to idly flip through some of that?  You can find an introduction and several editions here.

in which a pet goldfinch is lovingly remembered

Goldfinch, being wild birds, aren't pets for us today.  However, in a book of pet care dated 1862, I found this (unattributed) story of a beloved pet goldfinch's last years.

I myself until lately possessed a goldfinch which I would not have parted with for an entire aviary of the choicest songsters. He was thirteen years old when he came into my keeping, and his eyes were beginning to fail him. They grew weaker and weaker, till at last the glare of the sunlight was more than he could bear, and I made him curtains of green gauze for which he was very grateful, and never failed to reward me with a bit of extra good music when they were pulled round his cage on sultry afternoons. When he was seventeen years old he went quite blind, but that did not at all interfere with the friendship that existed between us. He knew my footstep as I entered the room, he knew my voice,—I do believe he knew my cough and sneeze from any one else's in the house. He was extremely fond of cabbage-seed, and the door of his cage having been previously opened, I had only to enter the room and call out “cabbage-seed, cabbage seed,” to make him fly out of his cage and come to me. Sometimes I would hide behind the window-curtains, or beneath a table, and it was curious to see him put his little blind head on one side for a moment, to listen in what direction my voice proceeded, and then to dart unerringly to my head or shoulder. What is most remarkable, my brother (whose voice is singularly like mine) has often tried to deceive the blind goldfinch by (im)personating me; but I do believe he might have called “cabbage-seed, cabbage-seed,” till it sprouted in his hand, and the blind finch would not stir an inch. One morning when the blind bird was upwards of eighteen years old, I entered the room; alas! he was deaf to the enticement of cabbage-seed—he was dead at the bottom of his cage.

Weir, Harrison, 1824-1906, and Samuel Orchart Beeton. The Book of Home Pets: Showing How to Rear And Manage, In Sickness And In Health, Birds, Poultry, Pigeons, Rabbits, Guinea-pigs, Dogs, Cats, Squirrels, Fancy Mice, Tortoises, Bees, Silkworms, Ponies, Donkeys, Goat, Inhabitants of the Aquarium, Etc. Etc. : With a Chapter On Ferns. London: S.O. Beeton, 1862. 5.

happy new year of the dog!

Gift of Estate of Samuel Isham, 1914 www.metmuseum.org

2018 is the year of the Earth Dog.  Here's a dog year surimono calendar created in Japan in 1814, with a jolly furball wishing you the best (and also wishing you would play ball, by the look of it).  Were you born in a dog year?  You can check what element type your dog year is here. 

wordless vintage wednesday redux (with love from curator)

from the museum collection
smooch!

this is the cat of jack's diverting story

thanks hathi trust (PD)
http://bit.ly/2EoSjAp

Remember the house that Jack built and all the things that happened to him thereafter? (Spoiler: He got married and did really well for himself.)  Sometime in the years 1800-43, a prettily colored version was published by John Harris of London.  Titled "A History of the House That Jack Built: A Diverting Story," it includes this picture of the Cat doing in a strangely unconcerned Rat so that it won't eat up Jack's malt.  Jack must have been a brewer. Oh, I guess that explains why he did so well.  Want to see the whole book?  Look here.

a keeshond says, "i bide my time"

http://hdl.handle.net/10934/RM0001.COLLECT.503183  www.rijksmuseum.nl

At least I'm pretty sure that's what the slogan in this Dutch emblem says.  What would a Keeshond be plotting that his time needs biding?  As it happens, this emblem, dating from 1787, falls during a time in Dutch history when a political faction calling themselves the "Patriots" were actively opposing the rule of William V, Prince of Orange.  The Keeshond dog became the symbol of the Patriot party, while the Orange party was associated with pugs.  In 1787 the Prussians defeated the Patriot faction and many went into exile; this must be why "I bide my time."  Here's a bit more on that from the Rijksmuseum. 

the turtle akbar

• Gift of G.A. de Graag www.rijkmuseum.nl

Before I do anything else, let me offer you the link to this piece over at the Rijksmuseum, so you can really see and enjoy it.  This is a print (woodcut) by Dutch artist Julie de Graag (1877-1924), immortalizing turtle Akbar, dog Max, and cat...uh, Puss.  ("Poes" in Dutch.)  There is very little in English-language scholarship to date about de Graag, which is a pity, as her woodcuts of animals and nature are devastating in their skill and beauty.  Look:

• Gift of G.A. de Graag www.rijkmuseum.nl

Three Cats, 1916

• Gift of M. J.. de Graag www.rijkmuseum.nl

Ferns, 1920

I was able to find an entry on de Graag in the Dictionary of Women Artists (1997).  

another little spaniel, 1560s

Gift of Edith Neuman de Végvár, in honor of her husband, Charles Neuman de Végvár, 1963. www.metmuseum.org

This work by Northern Italian painter Bernardino Campi (1522-91) is known only as "Portrait of a Woman," and dates from the 1560's.  Here we find another example of a very small spaniel, this one portrayed in an oddly toylike way.  This may have something to do with Campi's Mannerist styling (seen in the lady's elongated figure and the extreme detail of her clothing).  If you're curious about Mannerism, which was a pretty curious movement in any case, here's an article at the Metropolitan.

a dog sees a broken heart, 1917

thanks british library (PD)

So here's what I found today: I don't know who Lucie Lacoste was, but somebody must have broken her heart like a pro, because in 1917 she published a slim volume of verse titled "Tears."
It reads pretty much like you'd expect.
However, there was one piece in there that did hit close to home, and it stars the beloved's dog.  I must share this with you.  Here you go:

UNDERSTANDING
We PARTED, and you left me only the sob that follows deep suffering.
I strive to smother my love in the wine and song of the gay "dansant."
I sit listening to the noisy orchestra, watching the agile movements of the bare legs and arms of the dancers, as they whirl recklessly on the lighted platform in the smoke-filled room.
I long for a breath of fresh air, and pass out to be alone with the night.
I stifle a sob that follows,—immense, innumerable, fathomless suffering.
I think of the day I encountered you. After your love had lived its climax, you met and passed
me by; but he—your dog, of the large golden eyes, as I buried my fingers in his soft, warm fur, striving to control the tears
that trembled on my lids—looked up at me, and raising his deep, subtle eyes to mine, understandingly, lovingly licked my face.
But you passed me by; and for the hours of love I gave you, left to me a sob, and the memory—
That he,
Your dog,
Lovingly, understandingly licked my face
As you smiled and passed me by.

-- Lacoste, Lucie. Tears: "The Love Letters of ------". New York: Avondale Press, 1917. 75-6.

vintage wordless wednesday redux

from the museum collection

wright of derby includes the dog

Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection (PD)

Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection (PD)

1786:  Joseph Wright of Derby takes up his brush to portray the Reverend Thomas Gisborne, his wife Mary, and their greyhound.  The Gisbornes (he's 28 here, she's 26, and they're two years into a marriage that results in eight children) are comfortable in their rural setting, though the elegance of their clothing makes it clear they're no hicks.  Mary gazes in her husband's general direction with a hand on his shoulder, but he looks out onto the world, with a hand lovingly cradling the dog's muzzle.  I wondered if there was any reflection of this in his work, and as it happens, Gisborne did publish two books on the duties of the sexes.You guessed it:  long story short, women are divinely appointed helpmeets.  (If you want to page through his An Enquiry Into the Duties of the Female Sex, here you go.)  He was also an abolitionist, and a poet.   I hoped to find something of his in which he spoke kindly of animal beings, based on the tender way he interacts with his dog.  When I did some digging, frankly what I liked best was his hymn about worms, "Turn, Turn Thy Hasty Foot Aside":

TURN, turn thy hasty foot aside, 

Nor crush that helpless worm! 

The frame thy scornful looks deride 

Requir’d a God to form.

The common Lord of all that move, 

From whom thy being flow’d, 

A portion of His boundless love 

On that poor worm bestow’d.

The sun, the moon, the stars He made 

To all His creatures free: 

And spreads o’er earth the grassy blade 

For worms as well as thee. 

Let them enjoy their little day, 

Their lowly bliss receive; 

O do not lightly take away 

The life thou canst not give!

a golden bird in your ear

www.metmuseum.org Rogers Fund, 1922

I have a fanciful thought that perhaps some lover in 11th - 12th century Iran gave these earrings to a beloved, the better to symbolize sweet words chirped in their ears.  Look at the intricacy of the golden scrollwork and granulation (where the little dots are applied).  All that, in a bird only 1.25 inch tall. 
Various birds were of importance in Iranian mythology.  Doves were symbols of love, and also religious messengers; peacocks were royal birds; falcons are a central image of Zoroastrian iconography.  According to this page, birds in general also evoked freedom.  What freedoms were part of wearing these earrings, I wonder?  Freedom to choose a lover?  Freedom of spirit?  Someone wore these once, and I can't help but wish I knew their particular story.

dogs in the purple

j mankin on pixabay CC:0

Purple:  we grow up in the West thinking of it as a royal color, though I don't think it shows up much in any court these days.  Even so, no one need explain what they mean when they refer to someone as "born in the purple" - it speaks of status and privilege.  So how funny is it that the mythology of this color includes a dog as the major player?  In Phoenician lore, the city of Tyre had a patron god called Melqart; Melqart had a mistress named Tyros, and Tyros had a dog.  One day Tyros and her dog strolled the beach, where molluscs were strewn.  The dog chewed up some of these fishy treats and ended up with a purple face.  It's this tale that's referred to in this letter of around 520 C.E., in which a palace official has to take a textile supplier to task. 

the tale of a dog's golden dish

thanks british library flickr (PD)

In this tale from the 1001 Nights a man, hungry and poor, wanders into a great house during its reception hour.  He ends up seated next to the household dogs as they dine on rich meats out of gold dishes.  Though he's starving, he won't steal from them.  Yet one of the dogs seems to understand his plight, and pushes toward him the priceless dish and its delicious contents.  What happens next? You'll have to read the rest here, from the Richard Burton translation, found at the marvelous sacred-texts.com.