Fem. du Perroquet Aouro-couraou 1801 - 1805

Editor: Here we have François Levaillant's "Fem. du Perroquet Aouro-couraou," a watercolour print dating from the early 1800s. It feels almost scientifically clinical, yet the parrot has this endearing little sideways glance. What's your take on this piece? Curator: Oh, that glance is everything, isn't it? It's what elevates this beyond mere scientific documentation, transforming it into something…intimate. Levaillant, you know, he wasn’t just some dry academic cataloging species. He travelled extensively, often alone, collecting specimens and making these meticulous drawings. This isn’t just about feathers and beaks; it’s about a lived encounter. I see this intense curiosity. Editor: Intimacy through scientific illustration—that's a novel thought. It seems like his close encounters deeply influenced his perspective. Curator: Absolutely! His expeditions shaped him. He spent years in Southern Africa. He collected birds. More than that, it's the feeling of almost being present. What I love about watercolors, even in a print form like this, is how they capture light. See how it falls on the bird's feathers? And that touch of red, a tiny burst of exuberance. I just wonder, does this specific composition remind you of anything, stylistically? Editor: Well, I do notice that it's quite portrait-like in its framing. Focusing on a singular subject as if to suggest there's character and individuality in that very form, which might get overlooked. Is it correct to associate this art piece as portraiture art then? Curator: Precisely! Even something like a parrot becomes a "portrait" deserving of respect. Editor: So, the artist has humanized a non-human being to such an extent that we must consider how individuality exists throughout life beyond our common social standards? Curator: Nicely put, and perhaps Levaillant wanted us to examine where our societal boundaries exist. Well, this discussion gave me lots to think about, especially about my cockatoo I used to own.