![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Akhvan_Fatigues](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Akhvan_Fatigues-2-scaled.jpg\")
Fatigues<\/em>, 2014.
Photos : Paul Litherland, courtesy of the artist<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
Animals had begun appearing in contemporary art exhibitions several decades ago\u200a\u2014\u200adead or alive, reduced to meat, or held captive. Of course, the animal is not a medium like any other. The power of attraction that it wields can, moreover, serve a wide range of purposes. Often embroiled in scandal, as evidenced by the cancellation of an exhibition by Hermann Nitsch at the Museo Jumex in Mexico City in February 2015,2<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 2 <\/a> - The controversy was sparked by an online petition decrying the work of Nitsch, an artist associated with Viennese Actionism who, since the 1960s, has orchestrated bloody performances featuring animal corpses. See Carlos Silva Ronz\u00f3n, \u201cNo se lleve acabo la exposici\u00f3n de la persona Hermann Nitsch por mutilar, degollar, asesinar y al final exhibir los cad\u00e1veres de animales sintientes,\u201d change.org<\/em> (February 6, 2015), accessed February 15, 2016, http:\/\/chn.ge\/1QOZxrJ.<\/span> the use of animals in art divides experts as much as the general public. Whereas some artists think nothing of putting sentient beings to death as part of their practice, others prefer to question our dominant relationship over non-human species by adopting what I propose to call an \u201canti-speciesist aesthetic.\u201d The resulting works may emphasize the importance of the encounter\u200a\u2014\u200aas in the case of Fatigues<\/em>\u200a\u2014\u200ato subvert the human gaze,3<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 3 <\/a> - This notion has its roots in the theory of the male gaze, elaborated by Laura Mulvey. See Randy Malamud, An Introduction to Animals and Visual Culture<\/em> (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), 74\u200a\u2014\u200a77.<\/span>or even be the fruit of a (respectful) collaboration with the animals, which themselves become creators, as demonstrated in the work\u200a\u2014\u200aconsisting of paintings and drawings created in the wilderness\u200a\u2014\u200aby artist-explorer duo Olly & Suzi.\u20094<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 4 <\/a> - These expeditions can be followed on their website (www.ollysuzi.com) as well as on their Instagram account (@ollysuzi).<\/span> Although the presence or representation of animals is not essential in this type of production, there is one fundamental constant: the artists who take this path distance themselves from the register of the metaphor\u200a\u2014\u200ain which human concerns are transposed to the animal, which hence becomes a mere accessory\u20095<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 5 <\/a> - Giovanni Aloi, \u201cThe Death of the Animal,\u201d Antennae: The Journal of Nature in Visual Culture<\/em>, no. 5 (Spring 2008): 46.<\/span>\u200a\u2014\u200ato invest in the domain of interspecific relations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paradoxically, taxidermy, which is currently experiencing an unprecedented resurgence among artists, can serve as a source for new reflections on the animal condition. Indeed, this practice falls within the province of objectification: in a sense, it constitutes the ultimate humiliation of a living being by reducing it to the status of trophy or specimen to satisfy human curiosity. Closely linked with hunting, the process of mounting and displaying animals has historically served as a vehicle for promoting white man\u2019s supremacy, as evinced by American theorist Donna Haraway.6<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 6 <\/a> - Donna Haraway proposes a feminist reading of the exhibitions in New York\u2019s Museum of Natural History by highlighting the sexist and colonialist aims underlying their production. Donna Haraway, \u201cTeddy Bear Patriarchy: Taxidermy and the Garden of Eden, New York City, 1908\u20131936,\u201d Social Text<\/em>, no. 11 (Winter 1984\u200a\u2013\u200a85): 20\u200a\u2013\u200a64.<\/span> And yet, isn\u2019t using the carnal<\/em> evidence of oppression not the best way to challenge this logic of domination? This, at least, is the belief of artists claiming to use so-called ethical taxidermy of animals that died of natural causes, or mounted specimens given to them by institutions or private individuals. By disregarding the imperative of realism inherent to classic taxidermy, the aim of which is to \u201creanimate\u201d the body of the animal by eliminating any trace of human intervention, such artists\u200a\u2014\u200amost of whom are women\u200a\u2014\u200aplay with the codes of this tradition in order to subvert them. This creative process has given rise to what has become known as rogue or \u201cbotched\u201d taxidermy\u2009,7<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 7 <\/a> - Steve Baker, The Postmodern Animal<\/em> (London: Reaktion, 2000), 55\u200a\u200a\u2013\u200a\u200a74.<\/span> in which animal corpses are preserved, entirely or in fragments, in deliberately imperfect or unexpected ways.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n The work of New Zealand-based artist Angela Singer exemplifies this practice. For the past twenty years, she has exclusively used taxidermied specimens offered to her by former hunters or procured through classified ads. She proceeds to \u201cde-taxidermy\u201d them to expose the circumstances surrounding their deaths. Based on eyewitness accounts gathered at the time of acquisition, she attempts to bring to light the detailed history of each specimen, in a sense retracing their biographies (this information is not included in the exhibitions, however, leaving the works fully open to interpretation). She thus exposes the wounds, bullet holes, and other scars that bear testimony to their violent deaths, as well as the traces left by the taxidermists not only on the corpses of deer and exotic birds but also on animals deemed less noble, such as rabbits or rats. The crystals, jewels, and ceramic flowers that the artist decorates them with\u200a\u2014\u200asometimes to excess\u200a\u2014\u200aevoke the artificial nature of taxidermy as well as the trivial motives underlying the ownership of a mounted specimen, whether it is a hunting trophy or a simple curio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In his influential essay \u201cWhy Look at Animals?,\u201d John Berger notes the impossibility of making direct eye contact with animals in zoos, since they are set up so that visitors can observe the animals, but not the inverse.8<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 8 <\/a> - John Berger, \u201cWhy Look at Animals?,\u201d in About Looking<\/em> (New York: Pantheon, 1980), 26.<\/span> A similar logic governs the vast majority of representations of animals throughout art history. Singer breaks with this anthropocentric viewpoint by choosing, in contrast, to question the dynamics of asymmetrical visibility associated with taxidermy and, more generally, the spectacularization of animals, thus disrupting the categories of human observer and observed animal. In her work, particular attention is given to the eyes, which taxidermists usually insert deep into the animal\u2019s skull so that the observer does not run the risk of feeling observed.9<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 9 <\/a> - See John C. Metcalf, Taxidermy: A Complete Manual<\/em> (London: Duckworth, 1981), 66, 94.<\/span> Sore I <\/em>(2002\u2013\u200a03) evokes a scene in which hunters and the deer that they have killed are soaked in blood as a result of the antlers being removed from the prey. From the original specimen, the artist has preserved only the glass eyes and the rigid structure, with the effect that the animal seems to be casting an accusatory gaze on those who contemplate it.10<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 10 <\/a> - For more details on this work, see Steve Baker, \u201c\u2018You Kill Things to Look at Them\u2019: Animal Death in Contemporary Art,\u201d cited in The Animal Studies Group, Killing Animals<\/em> (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2006), 84\u200a\u2013\u200a\u200a86.<\/span> The series Troubled-Over <\/em>(2007), on the other hand, gathers together birds concealed beneath an opaque membrane resembling humanskin, as though they were trying to escape the tyranny of the human gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Singer\u2019s works stir up a wide range of emotions as she favours visceral<\/em> contact with the bodies that she transforms into veritable memorials. In an approach that resembles a funerary rite normally reserved for humans or their animal companions, she restores something of the individuality to beings that would otherwise have remained anonymous. In the Anthropocene era, mourning animals, a historically feminized practice, ridiculed and relegated to the private sphere, can be considered a potentially transformative political act, as philosopher James Stanescu\u200911<\/sup><\/a><\/span> 11 <\/a> - James Stanescu, \u201cSpecies Trouble: Judith Butler, Mourning, and the Precarious Lives of Animals,\u201d Hypatia<\/em> 27, no. 3 (August 2012): 567\u200a\u2013\u200a82.<\/span> suggests. For grieving for exploited individuals, invisible beings\u200a\u2014\u200ahuman or not\u200a\u2014\u200aconstitutes a gesture pregnant with meaning: it undermines the hierarchy of species, even unto death. Works in the same vein as Akhavan\u2019s or Singer\u2019s might also be considered in the light of a militant strategy developed by anti-speciesist groups that consists of exhibiting animal corpses (collected from abattoirs and animal pounds) in public spaces. Placed in a similar state of hyper-visibility, the body of the animal is, in itself, evidence of the injustices committed by the human race.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The ambiguity inherent in the presentation of animal flesh in a creative context may, in contrast, stand in the way of the artists\u2019 intentions, however commendable they may be. In this respect, Singer, who was previously involved in anti-vivisection organizations, has been strongly criticized by some activists, who believe that her work revictimizes animals. It does, in fact, seem difficult to separate mediation from exploitation when it comes to exhibiting animal corpses, especially when works of this kind are regularly sensationalized by the media. If greater visibility of the issue of animal suffering in the visual arts is not perceived as a sign of compassion by spectators, the works that present animal remains within an anti-speciesist aesthetic may, at the very least, remind us\u200a\u2014\u200aif only for a few seconds in a crowded gallery\u200a\u2014\u200aof the existence of beings that we often prefer to ignore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Translated from the French by Louise Ashcroft<\/strong><\/p>\n![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_TopsyTurvy\"](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_TopsyTurvy-scaled.jpg\")
TopsyTurvy<\/em>, 2007.
Photo : Paul Litherland, courtesy of the artist<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_Sore](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_Sore-l-scaled.jpg\")
Sore l<\/em>, 2002\u20132003.
Photo : \u00a9 Angela Singer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Sainger_Hedge-Row\"](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Sainger_Hedge-Row-scaled.jpg\")
Hedge Row<\/em>, 2010.
Photo : \u00a9 Angela Singer
<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n![\"Singer_Spurts\"](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_Spurts-series-scaled.jpg\")
Spurts series<\/em>, 2015.
Photo : \u00a9 Angela Singer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_Catch-Caught\"](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_Singer_Catch-Caught-scaled.jpg\")
Catch Caught<\/em>, 2007.
Photo : Russell Kleyn, \u00a9 Angela Singer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n![\"87_DO04_Roberge_Olly+Suzi_Shark](\"https:\/\/esse.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/04\/87_DO04_Roberge_OllySuzi_Shark-Bite.jpg\")
Shark Bite<\/em>, 1997.
Photo : \u00a9 Olly & Suzi with Greg Williams<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n