Zebra, from Quadrupeds series (N41) for Allen & Ginter Cigarettes 1890

Editor: So, this little card, "Zebra," comes from a series called "Quadrupeds" by Allen & Ginter, around 1890. It’s a colored-pencil drawing, meant for a cigarette pack, I believe. The zebra looks almost superimposed—the scene below with the crouching man feels totally separate. How do you interpret that visual separation? Curator: That division, it almost feels dreamlike, doesn’t it? As though the zebra is running through the man’s mind – a flash of wildness amidst a primal existence. Or maybe it’s the other way around: The man’s spear, a stark image of control and aggression, is overshadowed by the animal, whose beauty reminds us of life untamed. What strikes you most about the zebra itself? The colors? The pose? Editor: I think the way its depicted, almost floating, as opposed to really running on land! Curator: Absolutely, its weightlessness gives it an almost ethereal quality, a mythical beast defying gravity. The composition is fascinating because we are encouraged to reconcile the exotic and the domestic—the untamed beast alongside a distinctly commercial creation. It suggests adventure for a sedentary consumer; and isn't that something to think about? Editor: So it is like the zebra’s free, but still it exists on a tiny card someone bought? Curator: Exactly! Freedom contained. Beauty commodified. Melancholy tinged with aspiration, and just a hint of playful mockery. What have you learned here? Editor: That a zebra on a cigarette card can be a lot more complex than just a zebra on a card! Curator: Indeed! Sometimes the smallest objects contain the biggest ideas, and invite us to leap— like our Zebra! —into understanding what it truly is.