Ars Gratia Artis: “Art for the Sake of Art”

Almost everyone is familiar with Leo the Lion®, the trademark of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Fewer of us have taken note of the Latin inscription above the roaring beast which states, “Ars Gratia Artis,” loosely translated as “Art for the Sake of Art.” We in the dog world are no strangers to some very fine art, and over the years there have been some exceptionally talented artists who have devoted their talents to the depiction of dogs. Few of them though, no matter how skilled, are able to make a full-time living painting our canine friends, and the few that do are blessed indeed.

While many dog portraits are created upon the inspiration of the artist, many more are created at the request of the dog’s owner. This is called commission work, and the ultimate payment seldom equals the time, materials, and effort that goes into the work itself. But why art? We’ve had photographs since the early 1800s and some truly skilled photographers who can capture not only the physical dog but not infrequently its character and temperament. Why would one spend a significant sum for a painting?

Arthur Wardle (1864-1949) was a British artist of extreme talent. He painted dogs, hounds, and exotic animals and was very much in demand for commission work. His most famous painting (although there are dozens of his hound and hunting works still in print) was a depiction of no less than eleven Smooth Fox Terriers from the kennels of Francis Redmond. The Totteridge XI was completed in 1897. Redmond was the President of the Kennel Club (now the Royal Kennel Club) from 1922-1925), so we can assume he was quite knowledgeable about his dogs. Years later, Wardle confessed that his daily work on the painting was made more difficult by Redmond’s constant “meddling” and demands for a straighter topline or a smaller, more deep-set eye. The final product then is a combination of Wardle’s artistic skills and his patron’s idea of perfection in the breed.

S. Edwin Megargee (1883-March 13, 1958) was a most talented illustrator and artist doing portraits of horse, dogs, and cattle. He was also an American Kennel Club approved judge. Many of his numerous paintings found their way into the collections of the rich and famous, and some hang today in the AKC offices and Museum of the Dog. In 1936, he married the daughter of the then Executive Vice President of AKC. Although he published several profusely illustrated books, his major source of income was from commission paintings of especially beloved or valuable dogs. Aside from his connections in the dog world, his work was very much in demand because the finished product was almost guaranteed to please the owner of the subject. In most cases, the final product was not only complementary but significantly improved the dog itself. Some call it artistic license, but Megargee’s work seemed to make everyone happy.

A case in point is the stunning depiction of the champion Harrier, Mr. Reynal’s Monarch. Monarch was Best in Show at Morris & Essex in 1936 and owned by Amory Haskell. Both a bronze by June Harrah and the very famous painting by Megargee are now the property of AKC. The painting shows the first Champion Harrier in the history of AKC standing apart from a pack depicted in the background. The rendering of the hound is wonderful and for years has represented the Harrier ideal, at least to some of us. No doubt Mr. Haskell was pleased. (Some years ago the painting was x-rayed and it was found that Megargee had in fact reused the canvas and that there was another hunt scene beneath the portrait. Waste not want not… even when you’re a pro.)

Fact of the matter is that Mr. Reynal’s Monarch was a good representative of the breed type among hounds of the day and didn’t really look exactly like Megargee’s portrait. This artistic license was no doubt supported by Megargee’s knowledge of how a Harrier ought to look, rather than how this particular hound actually did look. That doesn’t take away from the greatness of the work, it simply supports the raison d’etre for fine art through the ages.

It wasn’t long before the camera came into fashion and photographs began to erode (but far from eliminate) the market for commissioned paintings. Rudolph Tauskey (1888-1979) was a most successful dog show photographer. His photos are found today in many publications, and his photographic portraits are found in many collections of notable dog fanciers and in the AKC’s collection. This was long before the age of artificial intelligence or even Photoshop. Tauskey’s portraits were developed from the negative and retouched using air brush and other means to give them a singular artistic appeal. They weren’t generally used in ads and it wasn’t intended to be deceptive. They were used to retain the memory of great dogs in the owners’ hearts. It was that retouching and artistic license that makes a Tauskey portrait so identifiable today.

Stephen J. Hubbell (1933-2018) was a more recent, very successful dog painter. A former AKC licensed professional handler, breeder of Great Danes, and finally one of the very few all-breed judges in the US, Hubbell began his career as a commercial artist working for, among others, none other than Walt Disney. By this time, dog show photos were an institution, but Steve perceived a continuing demand for fine art. With that in mind, he gave it all up and moved to the tiny town of Weaverville, California, where he worked from a barn converted to his wood fire-heated studio. Hubbell knew dogs through and through. Every muscle, every feature. He had seen and felt them all. Maybe he knew too much. His paintings, usually in gouache, reflected exactly what he saw. The artistic creativity was introduced in the background he chose and the activity of the dog being painted. Sporting dogs were most always hunting in territory appropriate to the game. Hounds were often picking up the scent or returning home from appropriate coverts, over stone walls and paneled fences. For some commissions though, and there were many, the patron selected the background.

Most dog art is meant to inspire, not to deceive. Through hundreds, perhaps thousands, of dog photographs, it is the portraits of special dogs that hang on my walls that inspire every day. Wardle, Megargee, Tauskey, and Hubbell, all of them “dog people” first and artists second, have left a legacy that preserves, inspires, and protects the purebred dog. Whether hidden away in your home or boldly mounted on a museum wall, the images provide pleasant memories of a moment in time. They’re not photographs. They’re not illustrations. They’re painting and interpretation at its best.

Truly art for the sake of art!