Dog "Art" Isn’t

This is a fun story about a school that trains dogs to assist people with disabilities that came up with a novel way of raising funds for their important work: Dog “art.” Here’s the story:

The owner of a fledgling dog-training academy in Salisbury has come up with a bizarre money-raising scheme. Mary Stadelbacher figured that if she could teach dogs to become service animals for the disabled, why couldn’t she teach them to hold a paintbrush and swab a piece of art? Two years later, the owner of Shore Service Dogs has a collection of abstract paintings created by her three service dogs in training. Twenty of the works are being shown this month at a gallery at Salisbury University.

The doggie DaVincis also have a line of greeting cards that has sold out as word spreads about the unusual works of art. One of the original works has sold for 350 dollars.

A nice little feature to start the week, worth a chuckle and nothing more? Perhaps, but I see deeper currents. Perhaps I am obsessed—and there is certainly evidence for that proposition—but I see the story of the dog “artists” as pertinent to the crucial issue of human exceptionalism.

The dog art isn’t actually art—at least not art created by a dog. The dogs are not expressing their aesthetic yearnings or attempting to create a thing of beauty. Rather, they are engaging in trained behavior that, for them, has no deeper meaning. (The same is true about similar elephant paintings that are created in India, an example of which is reproduced at the right margin.) Any artistic elements in this story spring exclusively from human activities, and thus, the story beneath the story is that the paintings made by dog and elephant “artists” illustrate the truth of human exceptionalism.

Only we could train a dog to paint—indeed only we can intentionally create a species with desired characteristics like we did with dogs. Moreover, only we can paint splotches on canvas and intend it as an artistic expression. And only we can look at a painted canvas—whether created by an artist or a trained animal—and perceive deeper levels of beauty and elegance. (The elephant painting is pretty good, I think. I like the red.) Yes, indeed: This story is really about human exceptionalism, and the amazing activities in which humans engage that are unique in the known history of the universe.

Now, you can see why I am invited to few parties.