Exhibition Reviews | Visual Arts

Capturing Spirit and Symbol: Modern Animal Portraiture in Photography and Paint

A detailed black-and-white image of an owl perched on a branch, with strikingly dark eyes and intricate feather patterns.

Nine François, “Owl”

As far as we know, animals were humanity’s first muses. From Paleolithic cave paintings to medieval manuscripts, they have served as symbols, metaphors and companions, shaping how we see the world and ourselves. Today, as our relationship with the natural world becomes increasingly fraught, artists like Nine François and Kenneth Peloke are returning to these ancient subjects with a modern lens, reimagining animal portraiture in ways that celebrate the tension between archetype and individuality. Their work, on display in Park City galleries, invites us to question not only how we view animals but also how art mediates these views.

Nine François’ Animalia series, represented by Julie Nester Gallery, transforms animals into striking visual icons while emphasizing their unique personalities. Her photographs depict creatures such as vultures, fawns and alligators against stark, minimalist backgrounds that isolate her subjects, highlighting their elegance and presence. Animals are often seen as symbols of strength, fragility, or mystery, but François’ focus on intimate details—like a donkey’s curious expression or the calm gaze of an owl—humanizes them, illuminating what John Berger called the “secrets of the animal’s likeness with … man.” As François explains, “the animal goes beyond being a removed, iconic presence and becomes a palpable unique spirit.”

François belongs to a lineage of contemporary photographers who use studio-like settings to highlight animals. Joel Sartore’s Photo Ark project, for instance, uses plain backdrops to emphasize the individuality of endangered species, urging viewers to consider conservation. Andrew Zuckerman’s Creature series isolates animals with high-contrast lighting to showcase their intricate details, while Brad Wilson focuses on the quiet dignity of wild animals in controlled environments. François distinguishes herself by balancing awe with intimacy—her subjects feel monumental yet approachable, iconic yet deeply personal.

Kenneth Peloke, whose exhibition This is the West opens this Friday at Gallery MAR, approaches animals from a different angle. His Western-themed paintings of horses and bison, set against stark white or black backgrounds, evoke not familiarity but distance. There’s an air of majesty more than anthropomorphized personality, what Berger, in the same sentence quoted above, from his 1980 essay “Why Look at Animals?”, called the unlikeness from man.

Peloke’s animals are also paintings, a fact not immediately apparent in reproductions, where their meticulous detail might be mistaken for photography. (Not so his abstracts works, also on display where he transforms the same subjects into bold geometric shapes and layered textures.) Peloke’s paintings begin in photographs, not always his own, but something happens in this transformation in paint.

A serene black-and-white profile of a white horse with its mane flowing in the wind, set against a muted background.

Kenneth Peloke, “Autumn Breeze,” oil, 48×60 in.

As Roland Barthes observed, photography has an inherent “that-has-been” quality—it captures a direct, indexical trace of reality. Painting, by contrast, is an interpretation, shaped by the artist’s hand and Peloke’s ability to render such detail, generally on a large scale, will appeal to those who are captivated by a certain idea of talent and the mastery of a medium (though we should not ignore the skill and precision required for François’ photography, which depends on split-second timing, close collaboration with experts, and an eye for detail). Wittingly or not, Peloke’s brushstrokes, textures, and layers encourage viewers to focus not only on the animals but also on the process of their creation. But does this focus on the artist’s hand risk eclipsing the subject itself? Do we lose the animal in favor of the art?

Peloke’s paintings may feel timeless and symbolic, but François’ photographs carry an immediacy and connection to the living, breathing animal. But François’ photographs present their own paradox. By isolating animals against neutral backgrounds, François asks us to see them as individuals with personalities and emotions, fostering empathy. She does so by selecting, one assumes, from hundreds of images, those few that will most appeal to our sense of the human. And the isolation of her white backgrounds removes the animals from their ecological and social contexts, reducing them to aesthetic objects. Her photographs remind us of the beauty and fragility of the natural world, but they also reflect the human tendency to control and curate our relationship with it.

As Berger observed in Why Look at Animals?: “Animals are always the observed … They are the objects of our ever-extending knowledge. What we know about them is an index of our power, and thus an index of what separates us from them. The more we know, the further away they are.”

Together, François and Peloke exemplify how animal portraiture can transcend representation, offering viewers new ways to engage with the natural world. Whether through François’ lens or Peloke’s brush, their works remind us of the power, mystery, and individuality of the creatures we share the planet with. But they also challenge us to confront the complexity of this relationship, asking whether our fascination draws us closer to these animals—or pushes them further away.

Kenneth Peloke: This is the West, Gallery MAR, Park City, through December. Artist reception, Friday, Dec. 6, 6-9 pm.

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