Unconventional Animals Lurking in the Getty Collection
Tigers, lions, and camels galore!

Mosaic of a Lion Attacking an Onager, AD 150–200, Roman. Stone and glass tesserae, 38 3/4 × 63 in. Getty Museum
Body Content
We share our planet with millions of species of animals, and many of them have galloped, slithered, and pounced their way into artists’ imaginations and become works of art.
But some animals are easier to find in art—especially dogs, cats, horses, and birds—thanks to their ubiquitous presence in human lives. If you dig a little deeper into art history, though, you’ll be rewarded with a whole menagerie’s worth of unique creatures. In fact, many artists were able to visit royal menageries to see a diverse range of animals (perhaps in tribute to that tradition, J. Paul Getty added facilities to house animals at the Ranch House before it became the Getty Villa Museum).
Finding these animals in art is important: they can reveal a lot about the cultures in which the artworks were made. European artists, for instance, sometimes took liberties with their portrayals of Asian or African animals, since the artists had never seen any before, and often infused them with a sense of exoticism that reflected the artists’ biases and prejudices toward other parts of the world. While we may not think of these animals as unconventional today, hundreds of years ago, many people would have been amazed by them.
Read on for a sampling of unconventional animals found in the Getty collection.
Tiger

A Tiger, about 1250–1260, English. Pen-and-ink drawings tinted with body color and translucent washes on parchment, 8 1/4 × 6 3/16 in. The J. Paul Getty Museum, Ms. 100 (2007.16), fol. 25
This tiger, drawn by an unknown artist, appears in a 13th-century English manuscript called the Northumberland Bestiary. A bestiary is a collection of descriptions and images of real and imaginary animals intended to provide readers with moral lessons. This volume includes over 100 examples.
Most people living in Europe during the medieval period would have never seen “exotic” animals in real life, so depictions in manuscripts often represented the artist’s own interpretation of the creatures. Why is this tiger blue? Perhaps the creator was trying to show off his or her inventiveness.
In the bestiary, the tiger is one of the few animals that doesn’t explicitly represent anything from the Bible or Christianity. The scene above depicts a mythic tale first recorded in 77 CE by Roman philosopher Pliny the Elder, about a hunter who attempts to steal a tiger cub. In the 13th century, Franciscan monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus added to the story: the hunter drops a mirror behind him to distract the mother tiger and trick her into thinking her own reflection is her cub.
Lion

A Lion Snarling, about 1625–33, Cornelis Saftleven. Black and red chalk and black and brown washes, 15 9/16 × 12 15/16 in. Getty Museum
My, what large teeth you have!
Cornelis Saftleven depicted this fearsome North African lion in chalk, possibly after viewing one in real life. In the 17th century, Dutch artists could visit a fair, menagerie, zoo, or traveling circus to see exotic animals up close. Or, Saftleven may have looked at taxidermied examples or drawings by other artists. He depicted many additional creatures in his work, including leopards, owls, and monkeys, though this lion is among his largest and most elaborate pieces.
In medieval bestiaries, the lion was known as the “king of beasts” and associated with Christ. Lions also symbolized strength and nobility and were often featured on coats of arms and included in royal menageries.
Camel

The Camel, 1690–1730, Beauvais Manufactory, after designs by Jean-Baptiste Monnoyer and Guy-Louis Vernansal. Wool and silk; modern linen and cotton lining, 125 1/2 × 167 in. Getty Museum
This fanciful scene features a number of entertaining acts, including a tightrope walker, musicians, a jester, and cherubs swinging from ropes. In addition to the camel at the far right of this tapestry, can you also spot a peacock and a lion? While camels were certainly exotic by European standards, by the 17th century, artists like Jean-Baptiste Monnoyer would have known what they looked like thanks to medieval bestiaries, royal menageries, and even classical writers like Aristotle. In the bestiary, camels could represent many qualities, including stamina and obedience for their ability to traverse the desert in caravans. They were also associated with John the Baptist, who is described in the Bible as wearing a garment of camel’s hair.
A Pair of Elephants

Pair of Candelabra, elephant about 1741; flower about 1745–50, mount about 1750, elephants modeled by Peter Rienicke, Meissen Porcelain Manufactory, and Vincennes Porcelain Manufactory. Hard-paste porcelain elephant; soft-paste porcelain flowers; gilt bronze mounts. Getty Museum
Imagine decorating your mantel or bedroom with these delightful elephants!
Two porcelain manufactories contributed to this pair of candelabra. The Meissen Porcelain Manufactory, established near Dresden in 1710 as the Saxon royal porcelain factory, was the first manufacturer in Europe to duplicate the recipe for hard-paste porcelain already being produced in China and Japan. Meanwhile, the Vicennes Porcelain Manufactory, which opened in 1740 in France, was run by a former carpenter who had discovered the secret of producing brilliant white soft-paste porcelain. Artists at Vicennes specialized in sculpting flowers and often found inspiration in Meissen products as well.
Where might an artist in Europe have learned what an elephant looks like? Perhaps with help from an object like the following.
Figure of an Elephant

Figure of an Elephant, 1736–95, Chinese. Hard-paste porcelain, polychrome enameled decoration, gilding, 21 3/4 × 13 7/16 × 10 in. Getty Museum
This elephant, by an unknown Chinese artist, is perhaps more whimsical than an ordinary pachyderm, with its flowered ears and red collar, but likely appealed to Europeans who had never seen a real one. People were awed by elephants’ size and strength, and it was considered a privilege to see one in real life. Only individuals of great wealth and power could keep such an animal at their home or zoo.
Eagle

The Eagle Hunter, about 1812–20, Francisco de Goya. Brush and brown ink with brown wash, on laid paper, 7 7/8 × 5 1/2 in. Getty Museum
Francisco de Goya is typically remembered for his bold, haunting paintings inspired by the political upheavals of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, which makes this darkly comedic drawing all the more intriguing. In the work, a hunter sways from a rope affixed precariously to a cliff, reaching into an eagle’s nest to steal its young—oblivious to the mother eagle headed his way. The hunter himself is about to be hunted!
Goya drew this scene using common writing ink and inexpensive paper (the only materials available to him during the Napoleonic invasion of Spain). It was included in his Images of Spain album (Album F), compiled about 1812–20.
Snakes, Lizards, and Shellfish

Oval Basin with Snakes, Lizards, and Shellfish, about 1550, attributed to Bernard Palissy. Lead-glazed earthenware, 18 7/8 × 14 1/2 in. Getty Museum
Impressed with the realism found on this glazed ceramic basin? To create what he called “pastoral pottery,” artist Bernard Palissy made casts of dead shellfish, plants, and reptiles and attached them to his earthenware forms. Perhaps his most high-profile work was a grotto at the garden of the Tuileries palace for French queen Catherine de’ Medici. Palissy’s passion for nature-inspired ceramics was in line with contemporary trends: in the 16th century, interest in the natural world flourished. Palissy even gave public lectures on natural history.
A man of diverse interests, Palissy was also a glassblower, chemist, philosopher, geologist, and ardent Huguenot (French Protestant) who was imprisoned twice for his beliefs.
The Entry of the Animals into Noah’s Ark

The Entry of the Animals into Noah’s Ark, 1613, Jan Brueghel the Elder. Oil on panel, 21 1/2 × 33 in. Getty Museum
The biblical story of Noah and the ark gives artists an opportunity to portray a wide variety of animals, each engaged in their own unique behaviors. In this painting you can see the influence of the 16th-century exploration of the Americas: artist Jan Brueghel the Elder included turkeys (from North America) and guinea pigs (from South America). As a court painter to Archduke Albert and Infanta Isabella of the southern Netherlands (modern-day Belgium), Breughel was also able to study animals at the palace menagerie, including parrots like the ones perched in the tree at left.
Can’t get enough animals in art? Peruse Getty’s online collection and search for your favorite animals. Many more creatures great and small are lurking in our collection, waiting to be found.