Otters in Literature & Fine Arts - Nemo & His Relatives Part V

Otter individuals in Germany:
Otters in literature and Fine Arts

Respectfully submitted and written by Béatrice Dumiche

Gettmann’s presentation definitively proved through experience that natural sciences have a genuine interest in relying on aesthetics not only to ameliorate the conditions of their popularization. He provided a reminder that they have inspired fine arts over centuries and have participated in their development because the arts and sciences are complementary modes of bringing attention to nature, through which humans have learned more about themselves and evolved. He successfully brought visitors back to these original affinities, which made no difference between the quest for knowledge and the quest for beauty and used them to generate sympathy for otters while underlining that they are both at the service of understanding and practical intelligence. Thus, he uncovered that the imagery of predators in our culture says more about us than about the animals themselves and that accurate observation can modify the way we see them and the status we attribute to them.

The German exhibits gave the impression that otter hunting played a less important role there than in Great Britain and that although otter motifs existed in the arts there too, probably under the British influence, there has long been a naturalistic interest in their representation as part of ceramic or bone china collections featuring the local fauna, which developed in the 19th century. This part of the exhibition was particularly remarkable as it displayed an impressive number of artifacts never presented together before which reveal that Germany has its own tradition with otters. This had only been forgotten, probably – and this is my personal hypothesis – because it was related to the literary and artistic movement dedicated to the celebration of local natural beauty that emerged in the 1920’s and was deformed and tainted by the later national-socialistic propaganda, although it most of the time had no affinities with it.

There were some popular otter stories in the late 1930’s, so even before Gavin Maxwell: their notoriety was interrupted by World War II and never returned to its original level, probably because during that time period the animal had almost disappeared and German literature was focussed on coping with the moral responsibility connected to the horrors of Nazism. The most famous story – and according to me the most touching – is that of the journalist and writer Walter von Sanden, who adopted a Eurasian male otter from the Balkans he named “Ingo”, which was also the title of the book he wrote about him. Published in 1938 (English edition: 1956), it created little event, but when it was re-edited in the 1950’s and was reviewed in the Grüne Post, a newspaper published in Berlin in 1942 in the middle of World War II, Ingo was almost as popular as Gettmann’s otter, Nemo. The heartfelt description of his arrival at the author’s home and the bonds they tied from the very beginning were written to awaken sympathy, especially as it was illustrated with lovely and funny photos describing what could be the life of a tame otter in an Eastern-Prussian farmhouse during this period.

This book, which is emblematic for the very particular relationship only otters and men seem to be able to have ‒ a mix of scientific interest, fascination, and unconditional love ‒ was, in my opinion, one of the most significant items exhibited, at least in the German domain. It perfectly links observation and sensitivity. It holds additional importance as it subsequently led to an extraordinary piece of art created by von Sanden’s wife, Edith: a magnificent sculpture of Ingo (one of its copies can be seen in the park of Badenweiler/Black Forest) which highlights the smoothness and the grace of the otter’s body, allying slickness and strength. This conjunction has something magic and incites interest in knowing more about Ingo’s destiny and the couple’s work, which has been entirely dedicated to the defense of wetlands and their fauna. It suggests that while the English literature, largely translated, like Gavin Maxwell’s Ring of Bright Water or Philip Wayre’s River People, was very popular in Germany too, there was a special relation to the fine arts which seems to have played a more determining role than in Britain.

Although this impression may have been made due to the way in which the collection was presented, the exhibits showed that the otter has been a real source of inspiration for plastic artists and painters who seem to have been particularly attracted by its anatomy since the 19th century. In any case, it was a rare pleasure to see together the beautiful otter sculpture by Max Esser (1926) made using original brown stoneware created by Böttger, the founder of the first German china manufactory “Meissen” in the 17th century, which became famous thanks to the Eastern-German stamp celebrating its 250th anniversary in 1960, and the Western-German Goebel china figurine. These artifacts in one place underlined that there was almost the same interest for the otter in both parts of the divided country, although the larger population subsisted in the East and contributed noticeably to increase the statistics at the country’s Reunification. These pieces of art showed that the exploration of local fauna had become a popular activity, probably under the influence of Romanticism which exalted the pleasure of staying in direct contact with nature, and found their expression in series of collectibles promoting a better knowledge of its beauties, benefitting the otter.

While the china statues referred to more traditional aesthetics inherited from representations of hunting and mostly display the otters with their prey or perched on some rockery, the more artistic sculptures revealed an interest for the creatures’ surrounding wilderness which has become a symbol for the natural freedom animals seem to have been born for. These artists have changed their viewpoint of predators and thus were fascinated by the physical strength and the dynamic of the otters’ movements when diving or swimming. They were inspired in that by the expressive style of the French sculptor Auguste Rodin who set the standards for gorgeous massive sculptures magnifying the power of life. These ideas and imagery found an important echo in the German art scene thanks to the poet Rainer Maria Rilke.

Many sculptors of the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries who specialized in depicting animals, for example, August Gaul and Josef Pallenberg, chose otters as their subject. While the former was represented at the exhibition with a drawing of a lost sculpture, a stunning piece by the latter, showing the muscles of the animal on the brink of movement, highlighted his fascination for the beauty of untamed wildlife. This interest led him into some extravagant behavior as he was temporarily keeping a lion at his home in Cologne before he moved to Düsseldorf, where his heritage is now conserved. This association reveals how different the perception of otters still was at that time when compared with present opinions, as they seem to have been considered comparable to wild beasts even then, as exotic as lions. Josef Pallenberg’s sculpture is a good example of the mythology they were included within through the pathos of German expressionism. Pallenberg was among the most famous animal sculptors of his time and that he chose an otter as the subject of one of his works suggests that it played a role in his conception of the wilderness, which may have increased local interest and awareness.

Although the exhibition did not dwell on this because it may simply be coincidence, there seems to be a concentration of artists from North-Rhine-Westphalia who displayed interest in otters at different periods in time. For now this is no more than an observation, but it prompts some questions about the possible existence of a specific tradition in the area. It could be useful to refer to it to advocate for the return of the otter to this region which it currently only populates in small numbers. It is interesting to note that there has already been a famous otter connected with the Lower Rhine and that it has alimented sympathy for this animal over generations, even while it was completely absent.  Heinrich Malzkorn was an author who lived near Duesseldorf and was a pioneer in the defense of the local nature he described in his books. Patschel vom Schwalmtal (Patschel from the Schwalm Valley), which narrated the daily adventures of an otter mother who had to feed and educate her numerous children and was confronted with many dangers, became his most successful book, published first in 1949 and re-edited several times before it seemed to fall into oblivion.

Decennials later, Nik Ebert, the political caricaturist of the leading regional newspaper, Rheinische Post, gave the name Patschel to his creation of a chubby and lazy otter male who, although being good minded most of the time, has lunatic moments when he comments in the local dialect on the little contrarieties he and his readers are facing. His cartoons, published weekly in the Saturday/Sunday edition, expose his criticism of summer (energy saving) time but, according to his creator, they are an appeal for tolerance and respect for the particularities of everyone through the encounters the character has with other animals on the lakeside. Contrary to Ebert’s sometimes very sharp political caricatures, his otter drawings display a lovely kind of weirdness in surrealistic scenes, for example, when he speaks to a snowman but then denies it after being mocked by the other main character of his cartoons, a pretentious sea gull. Patschel became a local celebrity creating some affection for his real counterparts even before their resurgence.

The name Patschel has, due to the original books and later cartoons, evolved as a symbol in the region, incarnating a corporate identity, with even a bakery naming a bread after him. The most important aspect is that a local tradition was renewed and remembered through him. In 2007, Nik Ebert became the godfather of the new otter male at the Zoo Krefeld. The otter cub was baptized in a small ceremony and the sculptor Uwe Meints, who has his atelier in the little town where the novel author Heinrich Malzkorn was born, was commissioned to create a bronze sculpture for a Patschel-fountain at Malkzorn’s birthplace. The artist loaned Gettmann’s exhibition a stunning ceramic replica of the statue, showing the otter proudly bearing a fish in his mouth. There are still some models available and it is emblematic for the way in which the conjunction of all arts in public space and media is able to bring about a positive image of a predator playing through human identification and the appeal of aesthetic beauty.

That these two factors are not enough to make the impact necessary for true change is clear. Nevertheless, they may explain to a certain extent the interest of major local nature artists in the otter exhibition as a way to express their support for its cause since the animal is undeniably a motive in the regional arts. Moreover, the water quality of the Rhine, so close to the exhibition’s location, has remained an ecological concern for years. The interest in the otter, a water quality indicator species, also reveals a more contemporary preoccupation to defend wildlife through reference to traditional genres rooted in natural sciences. That is why it appears so decisively important that Gettmann's presentation constantly moved back and forth between fine arts and scientific imagery as it helped bring awareness instantly, by association, that continuities and interferences underlining their reciprocal fertilisation have always existed and that this conscience must be renewed, especially to raise understanding for predators like otters. The picture the renowned local wildlife painter, Harro Mars, dedicated was a stunning masterpiece in this domain. Belonging to the artistic genre of the ‘biology’, it showed in one image the anatomy of the otter, its procreation, and its natural environment in a realistic way. He avoided all idyllic connotations while the strong vivid colors suggested a beautiful liveliness of a creature with its own rules, allowing the spectator a glance so long as it is with respect. With this painting, he invokes an immense admiration for the power of nature incarnate with a postmodern sensibility appearing to be at the service of nothing other than the animal’s welfare and for the pleasure of admiring it while it is enjoying life, the cycle of which it figures at its place.

That is the point where Gettmann’s exhibition again reached to the universal interest in otters shown from the moment their hunting ceased to be a major if not the only preoccupation. It uncovered that their facetious being, their playfulness and their extraordinary flexibility have become the privileged object for studies trying, through a better knowledge of them, to get nearer to the mysteries of evolution. Anew, he insisted upon a conclusive homage to Gavin Maxwell’s heritage with his sketches of Mijbil’s movements in The Ring of Bright Water, the lifelikeness of which resulted from close observation and a search for exactness in the representation of the animal’s behavior. These sketches created a genre inspiring zoologists particularly, whose drawings can be seen among others more similar to popular arts including the otter in a more or less legendary and atmospheric nature. In comparison with the style of the German exhibits, it appears that this style, which features the otter fitting harmoniously into a peaceful riverscape and enhances its cuteness without romanticizing its physical traits, remains typically British. There is a unique affective bond with this animal in Great Britain which the contemporary culture keeps alive. It may be the only place where it is easy to have a zoological, scientific interest while at the same time expressing a simple, carefree love for it. Lesley Wright, a member of the IUCN Otter Specialist Group, was represented in the exhibition with a lovely painted card. This is typical for a conscience, which, in my opinion, should also be extended to other species as it would help us return to some familiarity with nature and wildlife. However, that this cannot happen through its unconsidered generalization became evident too, as fine arts are revelatory for the specificity of cultural traditions and the strong feelings which are anchored in them. It is important to reactivate forgotten memories and use them as opportunities to renew existing symbolic bonds matching the local mentalities.

A merit of Wolfgang Gettmann’s exhibition was that its large collection highlighted, especially with the comparison between Britain and Germany, the ways in which national particularities have influenced the otter’s imagery and reflected it unconsciously. Surprisingly, North-Rhine Westphalia provided the most representative examples of this, though there seems to be no plausible explanation for it other than perhaps that it is the most industrialized region in Germany and has a great artisanal and industrial tradition. Located next to Hilden, the city of Solingen is a very famous center for cutlery where the legendary ‘otter’ pocket knives are made. These knives are known as a high-quality product beyond the German borders and the exhibition dedicated a special space to their history. The pocket knives’ production is deeply rooted in this region where there are still many anecdotes associated with them that keep their reputation as an example of the excellence of German crafts alive. So, although there is no direct imagery link with the characteristics of the animal, except perhaps the sharp teeth, the reference to the otter evokes a skill to be proud of when relating it to the region.

The affinity with the other regional product the exhibition presented was more superficial as the association with the otter is the result of a modern marketing campaign for a brand of safety shoes, the factory for which is situated in the same area, in Mülheim and der Ruhr. One can only speculate why the otter was chosen as their emblem: perhaps it is supposed to accentuate the waterproofness of the footwear and the anti-slippery protection. There were some examples of their advertising and their little otter mascot and ball pens with the logo were among the exhibits. It may be worth investigating what motivated the surprising and rather audacious choice of the otter for this product in a time when the animal itself had mostly disappeared from the conscience of people. It is interesting that there has apparently been the will to refer to otters as a symbol for the traditional quality of German craftsmanship which has proved to contain high levels of technical competence and reliability in key domains and has been the power of their industry for centuries.

It is difficult to relate the real animal to its symbolic attributes in both of the above German references; they indicate a rather abstract and intellectual perception when compared with the British familiarity, which often evokes much sympathy. Despite its different status in the two cultures, this opposition is a bit surprising, as literature existed that could have been referenced.  Unfortunately, this may have been considered obsolete because it was not thrilling enough or its simple descriptions not sufficiently in phase with the newer ecological perspectives. It is my opinion that they should be re-published with additional updated commentary and complementary information as they have a documental value for natural history and sociology, though they would not be a determining factor in the change of present mentalities. Creating the necessary acceptance for the comeback of the otter requires multiple concrete actions and especially the opportunity to learn about it through real observation creating lasting memories helping to build personal knowledge and understanding. This was already successful in the approach of zoos when they tried to find ways to bring children in contact with wildlife again and Gettmann used this experience for his own purpose, being conscious that pedagogy and communication must work together in favor of a lively popularization which motivates people at least to respect the animal even if it does not incite them to actively defend it.

Otter News would like to sincerely thank Clare Laughran for her editing of the review.