The Goldfinch, Birds, Art and Us
Birds – Curated by The Goldfinch & Simon Schama at the Mauritshuis, The Hague,
from February 12 to June 7, 2026
Accompanying book published by Hannibal Books
Imagine the outcry if a human were executed because they had accidentally knocked over a line of dominoes.
Following a fit of remorse after a poor sparrow was killed because she caused 3.5 million dominoes that had been lined up for World Domino Day to topple over, the “Domino Sparrow”, minus the wing that was shot off, is immortalised and on display in the National History Museum in Rotterdam.
It is one heart-breaking instance in centuries of regret as humankind’s relationship with birds is marked by heartlessness, awe, envy, savagery and extinctions – still.
Many of them are explored in an exhibition at the Mauritshuis in The Hague with an accompanying catalogue crammed with information about the 11,000 species of birds that have been flying and walking on earth for 150 million years and their relatively short relationship with humans.
It is the result of a partnership born after Martine Gosselink, the director of the Mauritshuis, read an extract in the Guardian newspaper from the work of art historian Simon Schama, lamenting our broken relationship with nature.
Together, they agreed to confront the crimes we have committed against the avian world and the imbalance between humans and the rest of nature. Explaining the focus on birds, Schama writes: “No other creatures have fixed themselves so obsessively and ubiquitously in our restless, earth-stuck imaginations.”
In their eagerness to get a close enough look at birds, many artists have either captured or killed them.
The bird painting at the heart of the exhibition and the one the curators say is the best of all is “The Goldfinch” by Carel Fabritius (1622-54). It clearly shows a chain that prevents him or her from flying off.
It is miraculous this goldfinch was painted, let alone that the result survives. Almost immediately afterwards an explosion of a gunpowder store destroyed much of the town of Delft, where Fabritius lived, and many of its inhabitants, including the artist, and very probably the goldfinch that inspired him.
Dents in the paintwork of “The Goldfinch” suggest it had not completely set when the explosion occurred.
Fabritius’ goldfinch is part of a wealth of bird-inspired works of art of all genres, from Ovid’s Metamorphoses to the quirky birds of the surrealists and of Picasso. It fills us with joy even if it cannot be any consolation to the millions of birds casually slaughtered as we pursue cheap food, limitless flights on aircraft and the whims of fashion,
Among the most shocking bird images is Edwin Landseer’s “Hawking in Olden Time”, which shows a mid-air kill. The violent tangle of legs and wings has no precedent in bird depiction and to date no successor and it is impossible to look at it with equanimity. It is telling that Landseer lost his sanity and died in an asylum.
At the other end of the scale, Henri Matisse’s doves were the comfort of age. They were famously the subject of some of his colour cut-outs and he also gave a dove to Pablo Picasso. The dove represented peace between the two men who were great rivals as well as great friends.
Picasso said he was thinking of the gentle presence of Matisse’s gift and of the camaraderie between the two artists when he drew a deceptively simple dove as the symbol of the World Peace Congress.
Picasso also loved owls. He captured their essence in, for example, “Little Owl”, a sculpture of metal, ceramic, plaster and shellac, and the oil painting of a more bemused looking than menacing “Owl of Death”.
He apparently identified with owls if we are to judge by his “Self-portrait as an Owl”.
More recently, Tracey Emin’s “Self-Portrait as a Small Bird” is surprising for those who associate her with brash, noisy statements as a heart-felt depiction of innocence and vulnerability.
For the surrealists, contemporary with Picasso, birds were also of major emotional and imaginative importance.
One of Picasso’s surrealist friends Max Ernst created a man-bird alter ego named Loplop that perches in his works. It stemmed from a childhood trauma as his pet cockatoo died at exactly the same time as his sister was born.
Ernst’s birdman and images of other surrealists recall the much older hybrid animals of Hieronymous Bosch, whose fecund “The Garden of Earthly Delights” has to rank among one of the most fabulous and amazing bird depictions.
Before that, the classical world blurred the boundaries between humans, birds and gods. Most famously, Zeus, king of the gods, took the form of a swan in order to have his way with the reluctant Leda, queen of Sparta, whose children hatched from an egg.
While the focus is on the visual arts, understandably, given that this is an exhibition, “BIRDS” is also accompanied by an anthology of bird writing from world literature that ranges from Coleridge’s poem of epic guilt “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” to Oscar Wilde’s quip “Nature: a place where birds fly around uncooked”.
The dilemma for artists in an age when a humancentric world view has become problematic is whether birds are a legitimate artistic subject.
Contemporary Dutch philosopher and writer in a chapter on “Bird Artists” explores the artistry of birds as they build beautiful and intricate nests. She also reminds us we do not own birds and they are not ours to harm or to tame.
“Birds do not belong to human beings. Birds belong only to the air and themselves,” she writes.
Ultimately the message of this awe-struck and awe-inspiring exhibition and book is that we must allow birds to be free. Even the painter of “The Goldfinch” was wrong to have allowed his bird to be chained.
Barbara Lewis © 2026.
The Goldfinch, Birds, Art and Us
Birds – Curated by The Goldfinch & Simon Schama at the Mauritshuis, The Hague,
from February 12 to June 7, 2026
Accompanying book published by Hannibal Books
Imagine the outcry if a human were executed because they had accidentally knocked over a line of dominoes.
Following a fit of remorse after a poor sparrow was killed because she caused 3.5 million dominoes that had been lined up for World Domino Day to topple over, the “Domino Sparrow”, minus the wing that was shot off, is immortalised and on display in the National History Museum in Rotterdam.
It is one heart-breaking instance in centuries of regret as humankind’s relationship with birds is marked by heartlessness, awe, envy, savagery and extinctions – still.
Many of them are explored in an exhibition at the Mauritshuis in The Hague with an accompanying catalogue crammed with information about the 11,000 species of birds that have been flying and walking on earth for 150 million years and their relatively short relationship with humans.
It is the result of a partnership born after Martine Gosselink, the director of the Mauritshuis, read an extract in the Guardian newspaper from the work of art historian Simon Schama, lamenting our broken relationship with nature.
Together, they agreed to confront the crimes we have committed against the avian world and the imbalance between humans and the rest of nature. Explaining the focus on birds, Schama writes: “No other creatures have fixed themselves so obsessively and ubiquitously in our restless, earth-stuck imaginations.”
In their eagerness to get a close enough look at birds, many artists have either captured or killed them.
The bird painting at the heart of the exhibition and the one the curators say is the best of all is “The Goldfinch” by Carel Fabritius (1622-54). It clearly shows a chain that prevents him or her from flying off.
It is miraculous this goldfinch was painted, let alone that the result survives. Almost immediately afterwards an explosion of a gunpowder store destroyed much of the town of Delft, where Fabritius lived, and many of its inhabitants, including the artist, and very probably the goldfinch that inspired him.
Dents in the paintwork of “The Goldfinch” suggest it had not completely set when the explosion occurred.
Fabritius’ goldfinch is part of a wealth of bird-inspired works of art of all genres, from Ovid’s Metamorphoses to the quirky birds of the surrealists and of Picasso. It fills us with joy even if it cannot be any consolation to the millions of birds casually slaughtered as we pursue cheap food, limitless flights on aircraft and the whims of fashion,
Among the most shocking bird images is Edwin Landseer’s “Hawking in Olden Time”, which shows a mid-air kill. The violent tangle of legs and wings has no precedent in bird depiction and to date no successor and it is impossible to look at it with equanimity. It is telling that Landseer lost his sanity and died in an asylum.
At the other end of the scale, Henri Matisse’s doves were the comfort of age. They were famously the subject of some of his colour cut-outs and he also gave a dove to Pablo Picasso. The dove represented peace between the two men who were great rivals as well as great friends.
Picasso said he was thinking of the gentle presence of Matisse’s gift and of the camaraderie between the two artists when he drew a deceptively simple dove as the symbol of the World Peace Congress.
Picasso also loved owls. He captured their essence in, for example, “Little Owl”, a sculpture of metal, ceramic, plaster and shellac, and the oil painting of a more bemused looking than menacing “Owl of Death”.
He apparently identified with owls if we are to judge by his “Self-portrait as an Owl”.
More recently, Tracey Emin’s “Self-Portrait as a Small Bird” is surprising for those who associate her with brash, noisy statements as a heart-felt depiction of innocence and vulnerability.
For the surrealists, contemporary with Picasso, birds were also of major emotional and imaginative importance.
One of Picasso’s surrealist friends Max Ernst created a man-bird alter ego named Loplop that perches in his works. It stemmed from a childhood trauma as his pet cockatoo died at exactly the same time as his sister was born.
Ernst’s birdman and images of other surrealists recall the much older hybrid animals of Hieronymous Bosch, whose fecund “The Garden of Earthly Delights” has to rank among one of the most fabulous and amazing bird depictions.
Before that, the classical world blurred the boundaries between humans, birds and gods. Most famously, Zeus, king of the gods, took the form of a swan in order to have his way with the reluctant Leda, queen of Sparta, whose children hatched from an egg.
While the focus is on the visual arts, understandably, given that this is an exhibition, “BIRDS” is also accompanied by an anthology of bird writing from world literature that ranges from Coleridge’s poem of epic guilt “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” to Oscar Wilde’s quip “Nature: a place where birds fly around uncooked”.
The dilemma for artists in an age when a humancentric world view has become problematic is whether birds are a legitimate artistic subject.
Contemporary Dutch philosopher and writer in a chapter on “Bird Artists” explores the artistry of birds as they build beautiful and intricate nests. She also reminds us we do not own birds and they are not ours to harm or to tame.
“Birds do not belong to human beings. Birds belong only to the air and themselves,” she writes.
Ultimately the message of this awe-struck and awe-inspiring exhibition and book is that we must allow birds to be free. Even the painter of “The Goldfinch” was wrong to have allowed his bird to be chained.
Barbara Lewis © 2026.
By Barbara Lewis • added recently on London Grip, art, books, ecology, exhibitions • Tags: art, Barbara Lewis, books, ecology, exhibitions