The Brooklyn Rail

Ah, yes, and I met Claude and François-Xavier Lalanne years ago, in Paris, and actually purchased way back then a small Lalanne rhinoceros to put by the fireplace of my oldest friend from Wilmington, NC, as a Christmas present.

So seeing a whole show in New York today was to revel in Lalannian delight all over again, as if I had known many of these wonderful pieces before! The stunningly new term “Zoophites” is defined as “an obsolete French term for invertebrate animals that resemble plants in their appearance or growth patterns.” Two things struck me today: that I had never known about Le Merle perché (2006/2008), or some of the other sculptures, like the Singe aux nénuphars (2008/2010) and, most especially, the totally unprosaic Chien prosaïque II (petit) (1987/2010) with his rear left leg raised.

That great Grand Chat polymorphe of 1998/2008 is definitely not smiling, being a bit too haughty to give way to such a facial disturbance. Then I read, in the gallery’s handout, what in fact I was seeing (and not comprehending): “combining a rotating cat’s head with a fish’s tail, a bird’s wings, and a female pig’s belly and hooves,” opening upon a functioning bar cart. It did not exactly arouse my thirst.

Ah, the ancient mythologies that nourish these creatures! François-Xavier studied such classical literature as Ovid’s Metamorphoses and was during the year 1949–1950 a guard in the Louvre’s Egyptian and Assyrian galleries.

Of great interest to this visitor was the shared studio of these two artists in the celebrated parisian Impasse Ronsin, with neighbors such as Brancusi, Ernst, Copley, Tinguely and Niki de Saint Phalle, all visible in various photographs of some Great Times.

But most remarkably and visually eventful for me was the wildly distinct ways of smiling or unsmiling adopted by these mostly adorable animals in their different sizes and attitudes. It so captivated me, the fashion in which many of the fabricated creatures were very distinctly smiling or not, so I expect I was hooked on that facial feature.

The Lapin isn’t gracing us with a smile as he looks away, phooey; we won’t even think of testing him in the fire. Nor is the Singe giving us even a polite version of one as he grasps those poles, whereas the great bronze Rhinocéros (1994/2000) with his black patina grants us a large grin, enough to cheer up a cloudy day in the city. Hey, that’s even a dimple!

All in all, it felt like a children’s fair on a day out, and it was a perfect spectacle.