The Power of the Dog: Centuries of Canines in Art

Detail from "Dog at Rest,"1650, by Gerrit Dou. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. (Public Domain)

Tens of thousands of years ago, though the exact date is disputed, dogs were domesticated by humans. Likewise, the depiction of canines in art has a rich history that runs the gamut. Dogs have made their appearances in early cave and rock paintings, ancient Greek ceramics, Roman mosaics, medieval tapestries and statues, and Old Master portraits.

In art history, the dog has signified a range of qualities, including loyalty, protection, power, strength, and intelligence, as well as, on the other paw, companionship. A canine-centric analysis, spanning French, Flemish, Dutch, and English artworks across the centuries, gives one a sense of the powerful, multifaceted symbolism of the image of the dog.

‘Tomb Effigy of a Lady’

"Tomb Effigy of a Lady," mid-13th-century sculpture. Limestone, 87 inches by 35 1/4 inches. The Cloisters Collection, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City. (Public Domain)

At The Met Cloisters, there’s a gallery called “Gothic Chapel” that aesthetically takes the form of a 13th-century chapel. One of its featured medieval works is “Tomb Effigy of a Lady,” which likely represents the noblewoman Margaret of Gloucester, the wife of Robert II, baron of Neubourg.

In this effigy, Margaret, with her arms in a prayer position, is shown wearing the aristocratic clothes and accessories of her day. The wimple (female headdress) denotes her as having been a married woman. An aumônière, or purse, containing coins for the needy, a needle case, and an eating knife in its sheath are suspended from her belt. However, the most telling symbol of her virtuous domesticity lies at her feet in the form of a sculpted dog, albeit an unidentifiable breed. Medieval tombs often feature dogs, representing attributes such as fidelity and devotion, at the feet of an effigy.

“The Arnolfini Portrait,” 1434, by Jan van Eyck. Oil on oak panel of 3 vertical boards, 32.4 inches by 23.6 inches. National Gallery, London. (Public Domain)

During the Renaissance, marriage portraits continued the tradition of using dogs to reinforce a pictorial image of a woman’s fidelity. Examples include globally recognizable paintings such as Jan van Eyck’s “Arnolfini Portrait” and Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” (though there’s scholarly debate as to whether the latter work’s central figure is indeed a married lady). In subsequent centuries, whether the dog’s historic symbolism was applicable or not, female society portraits—from the aristocratic, such as Queen Charlotte, to the notorious, such as Lady Hamilton—often show a woman accompanied by the highly fashionable lap dog.

The Royals’ Mastiff

"The Five Eldest Children of Charles I," 1637, by Anthony van Dyck. Oil on canvas, 64.2 inches by 78.2 inches. Royal Collection, United Kingdom. (Public Domain)

Flemish-born Baroque painter Anthony van Dyck was the greatest student of Peter Paul Rubens. He spent the latter part of his career as a court portraitist to Charles I of England, creating authoritative and flattering paintings of the royal family with rich colors and bold brushstrokes. A commissioned work from this productive affiliation is “The Five Eldest Children of Charles I.”

Former Surveyor of The Queen’s Pictures Desmond Shawe-Taylor calls it “one of van Dyck’s greatest portraits.” The composition shows an informal but elegant grouping of royal children. Their manner is in marked contrast to the earlier portraiture tradition of showing royal children as miniature adults in stiff and formal arrangements.

At the center of the canvas is a boy and his dog. The boy is Charles I’s heir, Prince Charles, who later became King Charles II. The dog is a spectacularly rendered massive mastiff.

Mastiffs have a rich history as guard dogs, stretching back to Roman times. Thus, in addition to the dog symbolizing loyalty, this dog also represents power and protection. However, the positioning of the prince’s hand on the dog’s head suggests that it’s the prince who’s the master of this powerful creature, capable of one day ruling the country.

By the first quarter of the 17th century, mastiffs had become an almost endangered breed. As curator Robin Gibson explains in his book “Pets in Portraits,” its presence in the painting can also be interpreted as a status symbol. At the lower right-hand corner of the painting sits a charming, eagerly alert spaniel. Spaniels were popular with the Tudor and Stuart royal families, and they’re especially associated with King Charles II, who gave his name to two breeds of toy spaniels still popular today: the King Charles spaniel and the Cavalier King Charles spaniel.

The Exquisite Little Picture

"Dog at Rest,"1650, by Gerrit Dou. Oil on panel; 6.5 inches by 8.5 inches. Rose-Marie and Eijk van Otterloo Collection, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. (Public Domain)

One of the most accomplished and innovative painters of the Dutch Golden Age was Gerrit Dou, a student of Rembrandt. Dou’s artistic talents so impressed Charles II that he invited the artist to his English court, but Dou chose to remain in his homeland, where he was a member of the Leiden Fijnschilders artistic group. Their output is characterized by small-scale formats, which give a great sense of intimacy, along with carefully observed, meticulously precise, and highly realistic painted details.

Dou was a virtuoso in rendering surfaces and usually worked on oak panels. He’s especially known for painting genre scenes, vignettes of everyday life. One of his masterworks is the tiny 6.5-by-8.5-inch painting “Dog at Rest,” whose subject matter and format are unique within the artist’s work. In 1834, English art dealer John Smith, who specialized in 17th-century Dutch art, said that “it is impossible for painting to be carried to higher perfection than that displayed in this exquisite little picture.”

In “Dog at Rest,” which was inspired by a Rembrandt drawing and etching of dogs, Dou depicts a napping, wire-haired, spotted dog that’s sweetly curled up on a shelf or table. He’s in the state between waking and dreaming, with eyes just barely open. Nestled next to him is an arrangement of everyday household objects: a large earthenware jug, a straw basket, a bundle of branches, and a slipper.

Dou’s paintings frequently contain symbolic imagery of an instructive moral theme. “Dog at Rest” could be perceived as a vanitas still life. The viewer is reminded of the transitory nature of earthly achievements, pleasures, and worldly goods, and is asked to consider their own mortality. This was a prevalent topic in artworks created in Leiden in Dou’s time. However, the exact symbolic nature of “Dog at Rest” remains enigmatic and is part of the work’s enduring appeal.

‘Tristram and Fox’

"Tristram and Fox," circa 1775–1785, by Thomas Gainsborough. Oil on canvas, 24 inches by 20 inches. Tate, UK. (Public Domain)

The painting “Tristram and Fox,” by 18th-century English portraitist and landscape artist Thomas Gainsborough, is currently on view in the exhibition “Portraits of Dogs: From Gainsborough to Hockney” at The Wallace Collection (through Oct. 15, 2023). Curator Xavier Bray says, “The way that our relationship with dogs—that unexplainable, loving bond—transgresses into art history is fascinating, and a greater reflection of society.” The genre of dog portraiture thrived from the 17th century onward, especially in Britain. The exhibit showcases the special bond between people and their pet dogs, and “Tristram and Fox” is an especially winning example.

Gainsborough was a lover of dogs, and he commonly featured canines in his portraits and landscapes. In several of his artworks, dogs were the main subject. According to family lore, “Tristram and Fox” was a canine portrait of Gainsborough’s own pets, though the work wasn’t titled by the artist. The painting is known to have hung over the chimney piece of his London home. Gainsborough’s naming of his dogs reflects his engagement with the literature and politics of his time: Tristram, on the right, is named after the eponymous character in Laurence Sterne’s novel “The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman.” While Fox takes his name from the Whig politician Charles James Fox.

Gainsborough’s tender portrait of his pets, which weren’t working or hunting dogs, also embodies his era’s attitudes about canine companions. Alexander Collins, another curator of the exhibition, says there was a “philosophical dialogue in the 18th century about the nature of animals and whether they are receptive and emotionally intelligent. It’s part of the spirit of the age of respecting animals and understanding their intelligence and giving them identity.”

Gainsborough’s composition and brushstrokes encourage one to view the dogs as sentient beings. Fox’s eyes gleam and his mouth is partially opened. The dog’s smooth and shiny eyes, nose, and mouth are precisely executed and are contrasted by the feathery brushwork Gainsborough employs for the dog’s fur and frilly, white collar. Tristram’s fur has a rougher surface finish, and he has silky floppy ears.

An appraisal of art history shows that the connection between humans and dogs has a long and storied past. Indeed, images of dogs in artworks often make the viewing of such works more accessible, relatable, and enjoyable. That’s the power and draw of the dog.