32 weeks of Art Dogs
Peter Hujar, and a thank you
The first edition of Art Dogs was published in spring of this year, in the middle of May.
It was about Henri Matisse’s doves. When he died, Matisse gifted his doves to Picasso. Those doves served as inspiration for Picasso’s international symbol of peace, which all of us now recognize.
Matisse's Doves
Matisse’s passion for birds reportedly began during the summer of 1936 in Paris. While walking along the banks of the Seine, he’d buy doves from the merchants selling caged birds, often bringing five or six home with him from these walks....
I wrote that first post on what felt like a whim, but in truth that’s probably not the case. I’ve long admired artists, and sought out inspiration from how they assemble their lives.
My hunch is that artists tend to be more “switched on” than the average Joe. An artist is rewarded for paying extra attention—both to what they see, hear, and take in and to what they put back out into the world. And the great artists have succeeded in cultivating meaningful philosophies of life that pervade their decisions, big and small.
As such, I suspected that what might feel like a mundane choice for corpo normies like me (for example, what to name your dog) can become an intentional, aesthetic act worthy of investigation in the hands of a true artist. And that’s turned out to be true. There’s something underneath the surface of Toni Morrison’s decision to call her cat Zora, or Tadao Ando naming his stray dog after Le Corbusier. The little things add up to the big things.
As the year comes to a close, I wanted to make sure to say thank you so much for subscribing and sharing. It’s a total delight to know that people are enjoying reading Art Dogs. I certainly enjoy the process of writing it, and aspire to continue doing so in 2024.
Happy holidays, and see you in the new year!
Bailey
PS: Art Dogs has been growing quite a bit over the last month because people have been sharing it with friends. (Thank you so much!) That means there are new folks turning in who won’t have received early editions. If that’s you, I figured I’d pause to share a handful of the year’s most meaningful posts before 2023 comes to a close. I hope you enjoy them.
“Music should bring relief. It should rehabilitate minds and souls.” — Sergei Rachmaninoff
“Love gives you a reason to live, but it also brings panic: the fear of losing that love.” — Félix González-Torres
"With Zora Neale Hurston a window is pried open. A breeze blows through, and by the time of Toni Morrison's Beloved, an opening has become a prospect, a landscape of vistas of possibility."
“I know what I love, still, now. That's a confidence. If you don't know what you love, you are lost." — Haruki Murakami
“She was just too sensitive to survive,” Lena Horne recalled of Billie Holiday. “The thing I remember talking to her about most were her dogs; her animals were really her only trusted friends.”
To explore the Art Dogs archive, go here.
Peter Hujar’s “Will”
Peter Hujar’s Will: Sharpei (I), 1985, is one of my favorite images of an animal that I’ve come across in six months of writing and researching.
Though Peter photographed many animals in his life, this portrait is special. Will was Peter’s own dog, not one he encountered in the streets or through friends. And Peter made this portrait of Will in the midst of his battle with AIDS, to which the dog served as his silent witness.
As it became clear that Peter wouldn’t survive much longer, the artist began to give copies of Will: Sharpei (I) as gifts to the doctors that treated him and the friends that cared for him during his illness.1 It was also one of the photographs in his last gallery show. After Peter’s death from AIDS-related pneumonia in November 1987, his lover and friend, David Wojnarowicz, gifted Will: Sharpei (I) to MoMA.
Before Peter Hujar became a respected photographer in the downtown circles of 1970s and ‘80s New York, he was a farm boy. Peter was born to an alcoholic mother in Trenton, New Jersey, and soon put in the care of his grandparents. They raised him until he was eleven on their farm. Animals were “among his first, and most enduring, photographic subjects.”
Nan Goldin said of Peter Hujar: “He’s the best photographer of animals I’ve ever met,” and claimed that he had the ability to capture “a particular dog, not just the species.”2
I thought I’d share a few more of Peter Hujar’s animal photos with you today as a short, holiday Art Dogs.
Art Dogs is a weekly dispatch introducing the pets—dogs, yes!, but also cats, lizards, marmosets, and more—that were kept by our favorite artists. Subscribe to receive these weekly posts to your email inbox.
https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/photo-booth/the-animals-who-captivated-a-legendary-downtown-photographer
You did amazing work here this year, Bailey.
What all this screams in my brain is "book!" in exactly the same way as the Unruly Figures book happened. I'm just saying, I'm leaving that here, and now I'm walking out the door whistling as if nothing just happened. BOOK.
Your newsletters are always a treat. I look forward to the new year!