The monkey in art

Building design
Monkeys in art - representation of emotions and expressiveness in the work of Cornelius von Max. Photo: Public domain, via: Wikimedia Commons

Monkeys in art - depiction of emotions and expressiveness in the work of Cornelius von Max.
Photo: Public domain, via: Wikimedia Commons

The monkey has fascinated artists and viewers alike for centuries. They appear in paintings, sculptures, drawings and installations – sometimes playful, sometimes provocative, often with deep meaning. If you take a closer look, you will discover that the monkey is far more than just an animal motif – it is a symbol of humanity itself.

No other animal has had such a lasting influence on European art history in terms of irony, satire and reflection as the ape. Its proximity to humans, its intelligence and its ability to imitate gestures made it an early symbol of imitation (mimesis) and self-reflection. Depictions of monkeys caricaturing human actions can already be found in late medieval manuscripts and panel paintings – for example in the marginalia of English psalter manuscripts from the 13th-14th centuries. These motifs are an early form of visual satire and moral instruction.
In the 17th and 18th centuries, particularly in the Baroque and Rococo periods, this developed into the so-called singerie motif: finely dressed monkeys in aristocratic clothing carrying out human activities such as painting, playing music or playing cards. Significant examples can be found in the frescoes by Christophe Huet in the Salon des Singeries (Château de Chantilly, around 1735) or in paintings by Jean-Baptiste Oudry. These depictions were far more than decorative curiosities: they held up a mirror to the viewer and symbolized vanity, folly and the temptation of human hubris.

While the monkey was still the companion animal of Dionysus in ancient times and was considered sacred in the ancient Orient, it was perceived completely differently in the West. It usually stood for the animal instincts of man. In addition to “vanitas” (vanity), it could also symbolize “luxuria” (lust) but also “acedia” (sloth), “avaritia” (avarice) and “astus” (guile) as well as “fraus” (deceit). A bound monkey also stood for people trapped in their sins, as depicted by Albrecht Dürer in the “Madonna with the Sea Cat”, for example.
In European Rococo art, artists such as Oudry and Huet used the monkey as an ironic projection surface. Their courtly singings adorned palace walls and salons and simultaneously commented on the rituals depicted. Detailed costumes, naturalistic depictions of animals and exaggerated gestures combined to create subtle social criticism.
The monkey also acquired symbolic significance in sculpture, often as the embodiment of the imitator or foolish observer. With the 19th century and the popularization of Darwin’s theory of evolution, another aspect was reinforced: the ape as the supposed ancestor of man. Artists began to question the boundary between man and animal philosophically and anthropologically – for example in satirical illustrations by Honoré Daumier or in the zoologically precise studies by Emmanuel Frémiet. The German painter Gabriel von Max (1840-1915) was a specialist in the monkey motif. In works such as “Monkeys as Art Judges” or “Monkey in front of Skeleton”, he depicted monkeys as art critics, researchers or as symbols of existential questions. Von Max used his own monkeys as models and depicted them in great detail, often with surprisingly human features. His paintings combine humor, social criticism and scientific interest in a unique way

In modern art, the motif was interpreted more freely. Pablo Picasso used monkey figures in his drawings and ceramics as observers or caricatured self-portraits (for example “Femme et Singe”, 1951). Max Ernst took up the animal in a partly surreal way, while Francis Bacon incorporated similar primate forms into existential, deformed body studies. Pop art rediscovered the monkey in an ironic twist. Andy Warhol adapted photographic models of animals as consumer objects, and Keith Haring used animal-like figures as media-effective metaphors for social codes. In street art, the monkey became a symbol of climate activism, social resistance and anti-establishment attitudes – iconic in Banksy’s series “Laugh Now” (2002), for example.

Today, the monkey appears in painting, performance, multimedia installations and digital formats. French artist Sophie Calle, for example, showed trained monkeys in a staged museum visitor situation – an ironic play on the reception of art. Takashi Murakami developed hybrid, pop-culturally reshaped monkey figures that oscillate between cuteness and latent discomfort. The motif is omnipresent in online culture – especially through the NFT series Bored Ape Yacht Club (since 2021), which finally turned the monkey into a digital pop icon. Although the speculative art market and social media aesthetics dominate here, the satirical core remains: the human being as a self-imitating “digital ape”.

Whether as a mocker, mirror or admonisher – the monkey remains a changeable artistic motif. In current ecological and ethical art projects, it also symbolizes animal welfare, biodiversity and the fragile relationship between humans and nature. A line spans from the margins of medieval manuscripts to NFT marketplaces: The monkey forces us to look at ourselves – with mischief, with criticism and with wonder.

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Installation for the Blue Night

Building design

“Forest sculpture” was the title of a light and space installation by landscape architecture students from the Technical University of Munich. For the “Blue Night” in Nuremberg on May 3, 2014, they transformed market umbrellas with bags and LED light tubes into an illuminated forest.

“Like a sea of clouds! Like an illusion! Simply beautiful! Wow!” The visitors to the “Blue Night” are visibly impressed. They gaze almost reverently into the shimmering blue-green treetops. There is hardly anyone who doesn’t pull out their cell phone camera to capture this unreal moment shortly after sunset.
The “forest sculpture” was one of the main attractions of the “Blue Night” on May 3. The theme of this year’s annual cultural event organized by the city of Nuremberg was longing. The basic idea behind the illuminated installation was to translate the everyday location of the main market into a symbolic place of longing.

Landscape architecture students from the Technical University of Munich took the fruit and vegetable market and its visitors on a walk through the woods: into a forest of artificial trees built from typical elements of the market. Market umbrellas became tree trunks, bags became foliage and fruit crates became seats.
For six months, 24 students worked together with the chair towards this moment. Up to 44 students worked on the main market during the six days of construction. The students had to inflate 20,000 plastic bags, assemble 240 wooden pallets, set up 80 market umbrellas and hang them with bags and LED light tubes.

In October 2013, the students entered the design phase through a constructive competition process. After several stages, the “forest sculpture” installation emerged from the 24 proposals, which all participants then worked on together until it was ready for implementation. Numerous questions had to be clarified during the development phase: What is the volume of 20,000 plastic bags and how long does it take to fill them with air? Which light source is suitable and how do I make 400 meters of cable invisible in the square? The students were confronted with hurdles such as fire protection and stability. Burning plastic bags dripping down on visitors, for example, or market umbrellas toppling over in a storm – the installation had to withstand all eventualities.

Understanding and solving the pitfalls of implementation and approval planning is one of the most important contents of “studio1zu1” – a teaching format and field of research of the Chair of Landscape Architecture and Public Space at the Technical University of Munich. Despite all the specifications, regulations and compromises, the installation was to be realized in line with its original intention – and of course within budget. The spontaneous applause after the lighting was switched on was a well-deserved reward for everyone involved.

Forest sculpture, Nuremberg main market, a light and space installation
Chair of Landscape Architecture and Public Space (Prof. Regine Keller), Technical University of Munich;
Project management: Felix Lüdicke; Supervision: Thomas Hauck, Felix Metzler;
Design: Julian Birkmaier, Rita Codea, Franziska Cußmann, Sabrina Daubmeier, Tobias Drexler, Elisabeth Egerter, Vanessa Frisch, Katharina Gebhart, Eva Grömling, Felix Gutmann, Franziska Hepp, Ines Hofmann, Melanie Hölzl, Kristjan Kohu, Yun Kyeong Hoh, Hannah Layer, Martina Lehmann, Theresia Loy, Pim Lucassen, Fabian Obert, Benjamin Schwab, Philipp Uerlings, Georg Wagner, Michael Wenzel

Location: Google Maps

Dream houseboat

Building design
Living dream houseboat buy book tip

Before the conversion: the old Bauhütten ship from GDR times

A family dares to fulfill a lifelong dream and converts a houseboat. You can read about the construction work and life on the boat in “Four rooms, kitchen, boat”.

“Isn’t it cold there?” is the most common question asked of houseboat residents. Concerned passers-by also ask whether the boat rocks and makes them feel sick or whether the plates fall out of the cupboard from time to time. The Eisenhardt family is happy to provide information, as they have fulfilled a dream that many people only dare to dream of: they have purchased an old GDR-era construction ship, converted it and made it their permanent home on the water. And to answer at least the first question: No, it’s not cold, because the crew, consisting of father, mother and two children, have insulated their ship “Helene” with 20 centimeters of rock wool. They are also self-sufficient in terms of energy and have already survived several winters in the crunching ice.

The woman on board, Berlin journalist Uta Eisenhardt, has now compiled her experiences in a small book entitled “Vier Zimmer, Küche, Boot – Eine Familie zieht aufs Wasser”. What is interesting for houseboat aspirants and leisure captains, for example, is that she describes the search for a berth on the Spree in Berlin as particularly grueling. The officials at the city planning office were anything but delighted: buying a houseboat and mooring it in Berlin’s inland waters? This was not permitted under building law, because “riverbanks are public spaces for recreation and nature conservation”. Only persistence will help, says Uta Eisenhardt. She also gives a few useful tips at the end: Costs, approval, living space, floor plan, mooring fee, condition, year of construction through to sleeping berths. As the reader learns in the course of reading the book, inexperienced boat owners have many misfortunes – after all, the home sweet home can not only burn down, but also sink.

“Four rooms, kitchen, boat”
Uta Eisenhardt
22.90 euros. Published by Delius Klasing, Bielefeld 2016

Anyone who wants to find out more about this exotic form of living also has the opportunity to do so at the first “Houseboat Conference”: Verlag Delius Klasing is organizing it on 20 October in Hamburg (at a price of 398 euros). Many questions can be clarified there, such as: What does it mean to live on the water, what options are there, what needs to be considered when building and constructing floating structures and what is the legal framework?

All photos: Eisenhardt