All the mews that’s fit to print
Artists have used cats to teach lessons for thousands of years
Cats have purred and scratched their way through art for more than 30,000 years. A common theme has been the relationship between cats and humans, especially the closeness between feline and human females.
One of the earliest known sculptures is an ivory that is part feline, part human. The 30-centimetre-high statuette, which was found in Germany, is at least 30,000 years old. Probably a lioness, she is certainly a noteworthy precursor to all the cats that followed.
The Egyptian goddess, Bastet, was a perfect domestic role model for mothers, and the perfect babysitter for kittens and human children. In a limestone sculpture from about 2,000 years ago, she is shown with a cat’s head and a woman’s body. She holds a rattle in her raised right hand and a baby in the other. In other examples, Bastet holds what looks like a handbag — or shopping bag.
Flemish artist Clara Peeters, who was famous for her lifelike still-life compositions, painted “Cat with Carp and Ceramic Colander” in about 1620. It’s one of her oils featuring a striped tabby in a domestic setting — a pantry or kitchen.
A still life appealed to the senses. We are encouraged, for instance, to imagine scents and contrasting sensations such as the cat’s fur, the scales of the fish, the shells of the crayfish, and the beads of water on the table.
The cat, ears back, has her front paws placed firmly on a fish. Might we hear a purr, or maybe a growl — if she’s been caught red-pawed?
Peeters’ work has at least four lessons to offer. One, that patience and watchfulness pay off. Two, thieving gets results. The cat’s ears are back. Does she know she’s done something wrong?
Lessons three and four are embodied in sayings. “Material and animal desires prevent the soul from reaching spiritual fulfilment.” And “A cat does not like to get her paws wet.” This cat uses her smarts to let the humans get wet on her behalf.
Humans continued to learn from their cats.
Henriette Ronner-Knip, a Dutch artist, is known for her many cat paintings. In these, she sentimentalizes motherhood, domesticity and femininity — virtues loved by Victorians.
In “A Musical Interlude,” executed in 1897, she gives the felines human feelings and behaviours. This is not just a pretty picture. It incorporates beliefs about the male character versus the female and inculcates proper behaviour based on those beliefs.
A mother cat and five kittens have gathered in a luxurious domestic interior. The elegant mother cat, her fluffy tail alert and front paw raised for anticipated action, watches a kitten who has climbed to the top of a harp. Her gaze is attentive. But her mouth breaks into a tiny smile, as though she is proud of what the kitten has done.
The contemporary viewer was expected to identify this kitten as male because it is active and daring. A second kitten, meant to be another male, is attempting the same climb.
A ginger and white kitten sits on a pile of books, a nice touch and a traditional symbol of learning. Knowledge, symbolized by the books, is a male pursuit. But this kitten dozes.
The remaining two kittens are female. The black and white one grooms her claws, like a girl doing her nails. The white and striped one, who resembles her mother, is learning how to look seductively out at the viewer as bad girls do in Victorian paintings.
Regina Haggo, art historian, public speaker, curator, YouTube video maker and former professor at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand, teaches at the Dundas Valley School of Art. rahaggo@gmail.com