I’m trying something different—posting same theme for a week; first up, animal portraits.
To start things off, homage to Peter Hujar, whom Nan Goldin called “the best photographer of animals I’ve ever met,” largely because he captures “a particular dog, not just the species.”
“[Hujar is best known for] his is deeply felt, often sexually charged portraits of bohemian East Village habitués—exuberant drag queens, brooding writers, rough-edged artists, pose-striking dancers, and anonymous hustlers. Indeed, it is a sense that Hujar understood the individuality of each of his subjects—animal as well as human—that separates him from his closest contemporaries, Diane Arbus and Robert Mapplethorpe, with whom he was compared during his lifetime (much to his irritation).” (See: New Yorker 2018)
And that really nails what differentiates a portrait, whether animal or human: It captures and communicates something essential about an individual.
I don’t know anything about Hujar’s scruffy dog, but I sense its isolation and sadness. But about my cat: She was nearing the end of a long, good life roaming the countryside and coming home to love and care. At 19 in this photo, she stayed inside mostly or found a spot of sun on a rug or the porch where it was safe, given her diminished eyesight and hearing, as well as a stiffened gait. And she neglected grooming so that like Hujar’s dog, she grew scruffy. For a while, she still craved food and lap. Soon after this photos, that too faded.
She is buried in my garden, where I planted a peony—a fluffy tribute—on her grave. It is blooming now.
Yes indeed. I read that too. Thanks for the exchange! 🙏
Very interesting conversation