Mice, dogs, bulls and ducks are among the subjects of the series of animal images that inhabit Cunningham’s production of drawings. Some images display familiar scenes, such as pigeons resting on rooftops or dogs playing. Others show knights engaging in combat on the back of majestic horses, or elephants intent in violent fights, injecting an imaginative, extravagant quality into this series.

The world of animals has inspired artists since the beginning of time. Their presence in visual representations constitutes a reflection on the realm of mythology and legends, but it is also telling of human ideas about our own identity and our relationship to the environment. Animals signify a source of nourishment, a talismanic or sacred presence, a symbol of life, divinity, renewal and regeneration. They can allude to the struggles between human civilisation and nature, but they can also constitute a celebration of the beauty, harmony and poetry that can be found in the world.

Such connotations appear to consistently emerge in Cunningham’s drawings of animals. His images of birds, for instance, seem to suggest both unrestrained freedom and peaceful contemplation. Like dark shadows, they perch on rooftops or hop on busy pavements, occasionally stopping to look at their reflections in puddles. Less quotidian images, such as those which portray fighting reptiles or animated, featherless ducks, possibly constitute imaginative inventions or studies for other drawings. Remarkable in this sense are those portraying snakes, which return in the images of nude dancers performing (or perhaps struggling) with them.

But perhaps Cunningham’s most captivating animal drawings are those representing dogs. He appears to have been particularly fond of this subject, since these subjects return not only in several drawings but also in some of his large paintings, in which their somber presence might remind viewers of Francis Bacon’s contemporary interpretation of the theme. In his paintings, dogs are transformed in uncanny conformations that challenge viewers with bulbous forms and a dark sense of implicit violence. In Cunningham’s drawings, however, dogs appear less threatening, simply presenting themselves to viewers or engaged in playful fights. Almost transformed into abstract forms, they forcefully run into each other, the power of their muscles flexing highlighted by the heavy, thick pencil strokes. Abandoning the sense of darkness and danger of his paintings, these drawings seem to be entirely about the possibility of movement in non-anthropomorphic bodies.

Other images of dogs appear to be more akin to the genre of studies. A parade of dachshunds performs over a series of drawings, their diminutive, smooth bodies investigated in countless possibilities of movements and positioning. Historically beloved for their playful shape and appreciated for their hunting skills, dachshunds have appeared on traditional paintings for centuries. Here, they are explored as vehicles of motion, sometimes even stripped of skin and flesh to reveal their bone structures. Overall, however, they exude a sense of playfulness and light-hearted energy that is not found in other drawings in Cunningham’s production.

What did animals mean for Cunningham? They constituted, possibly, a vehicle for him to express a wild vitality that he could probably not explore in other forms of artistic expression. They reflect human emotions and constitute a site of projection for our thoughts, but they also help us learn about ourselves, encapsulating the qualities of irrational force and impulsiveness that we seek to banish from the realm of humanity and civilisation. Intense emotion, placid reflection, a sense of liberty and spontaneity are all a crucial part of this lyrical series of drawings.