The Dragon of Many Tails c. 1753 - 1755

Curator: Let’s take a look at "The Dragon of Many Tails," a print created around 1753 to 1755, currently held here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. The work is an etching or engraving, and its creator is, regrettably, anonymous. Editor: It’s oddly… whimsical, isn't it? This isn’t the fearsome, fire-breathing beast of legend. He looks a bit cross-eyed and grumpy, almost like he’s been woken up from a nap. I like how the trees around him are both protective and imprisoning. Curator: Indeed. Though rendered anonymously, the print draws heavily from the stylistic and thematic concerns common in European illustration during the mid-18th century. The narrative setting, with the dragon nestled amidst trees, places the figure within a broader intellectual and aesthetic framework influenced by the Enlightenment. Editor: Narrative-art, hmm... The forest gives him this wonderful theatrical backdrop, doesn't it? The engraver or etcher, who remains unknown, managed to balance the grotesque and the charming beautifully. I imagine this dragon more as a character in a very dryly funny fairy tale. Curator: It’s fascinating to think about how the piece, and others like it, circulated within print culture at the time. The fine lines achieved through the etching and engraving techniques allowed for a wide distribution, creating a shared visual culture among diverse audiences. Editor: It does make you wonder about that initial audience! If this dragon met viewers who saw him as powerful and fearsome, how far removed was their interpretation? I see something rather comical and benign in his figure... Is it subversion, ineptitude, or just a peculiar type of invention? Curator: Those are wonderful questions. Certainly, the social functions of displaying such pieces extend to a broader consideration of what images were made available to a curious public, and what interpretations might be enabled as they became ingrained. Editor: Well, whatever its place in visual culture, this particular dragon feels very, very gentle for an allegedly scary beast. It sort of invites you into its world... I like this curmudgeonly dragon. Curator: I agree. The piece prompts valuable insight on historical printmaking, artistic reception, and of course the ever-evolving imagery surrounding mythological subjects. Editor: Agreed! Here's to more grumpy dragons in art history.