Will: Shar-Pei (I) 1985

Curator: Here we have Peter Hujar’s 1985 gelatin silver print, "Will: Shar-Pei (I)". It's a photograph of a Shar-Pei dog, captured with a striking, almost sculptural quality. Editor: Immediately, I’m struck by its melancholy. That deep, soulful gaze combined with all those folds of skin… it’s almost like a rumpled, lived-in portrait of human sorrow projected onto this beautiful animal. Curator: It’s interesting you say that, because Hujar often photographed his subjects—human and animal alike—in ways that revealed an incredible depth of character. The use of black and white emphasizes the textures, those endless wrinkles... making it very tactile. Editor: Absolutely, it transforms the dog into almost an abstract landscape of lines and shadows. You barely see eyes. It's less about canine identity, and more about presence. It's like it's staring off camera but has this strong grounded presence, and how fascinating it is to see the image displayed in gallery as art. Curator: Exactly. He avoids sentimentality. We have the simple backdrop too, making you question our tendency to sentimentalize animals, while at the same time provoking strong emotional response. Did you know that photography really started gaining traction with depicting dogs. Think of Eadweard Muybridge. Editor: I did not! It is not just the depiction of a pet; the high-contrast lighting seems to strip away the everyday familiarity of dog ownership and highlight a deeper, perhaps existential, connection we can feel towards our companions. I want to look at that photograph forever. It's wonderful to have something both intimate and profound to contemplate. Curator: Absolutely. Hujar makes us see both the individual animal, and this cultural moment of changing attitudes toward pet ownership. Food for thought on a lazy Sunday, wouldn't you agree?