A small animal with great symbolic power: The hare is one of the most multifaceted motifs in European art history. From medieval church windows to Flemish masterpieces to contemporary installations, this animal has inspired generations of artists. It enters the collective consciousness especially around Easter—yet the depth of meaning in its iconography extends far beyond chocolate figures and spring decorations.

Anyone who looks up at an old church vault and comes across three interlocking long ears forming a triangle is encountering one of the strangest and most beautiful mysteries of European iconography. The so-called “three-rabbit window”—found, for example, in the parish church of St. Petri in Paderborn or in numerous medieval churches in southern Germany and England—depicts three animals that, despite sharing only three ears, each appear to be fully rendered. This depiction is not a playful ornament, but rather an expression of a deeply rooted symbolic system that linked the small rodent to concepts such as the Trinity, eternity, and the divine cycle.

Between Antiquity and Christianity: The Early Layers of Meaning

Long before Christianity shaped Europe, the animal was a symbol of fertility, speed, and transformation. In Greco-Roman mythology, it was associated with Eros, the god of love, or Amor, but also appeared as an attribute of Aphrodite/Venus. In late antiquity, the hare also served as a symbol of life after death.
In Christianity, the hare played an ambivalent role; originally, it was considered unclean in the Old Testament, and Leviticus, among other texts, states that it is forbidden to eat a hare. In Christian depictions, the hare can take on various roles: It can be seen as a symbol of vigilance and was therefore often used as a sign of the catechumens, but it could also symbolize weak Christians persecuted by the devil. At times, however, it can also be interpreted as a symbol of Christ; in particular, a white hare refers to the Resurrection of Christ—such a depiction can be found, for example, in Giovanni Bellini’s *The Resurrection of Jesus Christ *. A running hare, on the other hand, often carries negative connotations; symbolizing someone who pursues their desires—yet it can also be interpreted positively, as the hare is following Christ; here, it depends on the direction in which the hare is running: if it is running uphill, it is usually interpreted as a positive symbol.
Hares are also considered symbols of fertility and are therefore often associated with lust (Luxuria). For this reason, they are frequently found in depictions of the Fall of Man, such as in Albrecht Dürer’s copperplate engraving *Adam and Eve*. In depictions of the Virgin Mary , however, the hare is to be interpreted positively, as depicted, for example, by Hans Baldung Grien in *The Visitation*. A small white hare at the feet of Mary or a saint is also regarded as a symbol of victory over carnal desires.

Albrecht Dürer and Flemish Painting: The Animal as a Masterpiece

Probably the most famous individual depiction of a long-eared hare in Western art history comes from Albrecht Dürer: His watercolor work*Young Hare*from 1502, now in the Albertina in Vienna, is regarded as the epitome of both scientific precision and artistic mastery. Dürer depicts the animal not as a symbol, but as an individual—every hair, every reflection of light in the eye is rendered with remarkable care. At the same time, this hyperrealistic depiction resonates with the contemporary belief that the careful study of nature reveals God’s plan of creation.
In 17th-century Flemish still-life and hunting paintings, however, the hare appears as hunted game: hung up and presented in subdued light, it becomes the subject of elegiac vanitas reflections. Artists such as Frans Snyders and Jan Weenix incorporated it into lavish arrangements of dead game birds, fruits, and hunting gear. Here, the animal symbolizes the transience of life, humanity’s triumph over nature—and, at the same time, within the memento mori context of that era, the inevitability of death.

The Easter Bunny: Folklore, Symbolism, and Their Artistic Reception

The association of the animal with Easter is more recent than is commonly assumed and by no means based on the Bible, as many believe. The earliest written mention of the Easter Bunny dates from the 17th century, in Georg Franck von Franckenau’s 1682 treatise*De ovis paschalibus*. Folklorists and scholars of religious history continue to debate whether this represents a reinterpretation of pre-Christian spring rites or a relatively late cultural construct. What is indisputable is that the motif of the hare has been present in the Christian spring context in the visual arts since the late Middle Ages. The connection between resurrection, fertility, and spring’s promise of renewal made it the ideal companion to the most important Christian festival. On votive images, in sacred goldsmithing, and in illustrated books of hours, the animal appears time and again in the context of depictions of the Passion and Easter, usually as a discreet marginal detail, rarely as the main motif. Its popularization then took place in the 19th and early 20th centuries: The Easter bunny became a mass-culture icon through postcards, lithographs, and ultimately advertising design. Contemporary artists such as Jeff Koons have made this process of commercialization a subject of their own work —Koons’ polishedstainless-steel “Rabbit”from 1986, which sold at auction in 2019 for more than 91 million dollars, is at once a reflection on kitsch, the world of commodities, and the history of sculpture.
What makes this animal such a enduring motif in art history is its semantic flexibility: it can embody innocence and cunning, fertility and transience, divinity and banality—often simultaneously. From Dürer’s masterful watercolor to Gothic church windows to Koons’ gleaming surface, this same animal spans the centuries, consistently reflecting the values, fears, and longings of the era in which it was created. Anyone who catches sight of an image of a hare during these spring days is looking at one of Europe’s longest-standing visual traditions—and at a symbol whose meaning is far from exhausted.