They evoke contrasting reactions, and often, in their presence, we bring out the worst in ourselves. Three percent of the population even suffers from a specific phobia—“ornithophobia”—which causes panic, tachycardia, nausea, sweating, and a sensation of suffocation when they are around. And even those who don't suffer from it seem far from enthusiastic.
We are talking about pigeons, the undisputed animal protagonists of our cities.To drive them away, we seem willing to try anything: birth control pills, capture nets, guns, poisons, and deterrent spikes on roofs. We’ve even tried starving them in public squares.Such cruel yet futile attempts only prompt them to display the surprising urban resilience that over time has made them a perfect symbol of contemporary life.
Pigeons are the new cool in contemporary art
It looks like everyone loves pigeons now, from the new logo of the Museum of London to the winning entry for High Line 2024. However, coexistence between humans and these birds has always been difficult. What’s going on?
Courtesy the Artist and The High Line
Courtesy The Artist
Copyright Alexander Levy, Berlin; Dittrich & Schlechtriem, Berlin; Photo The Artists
Courtesy The Artist
(Interview with Nancy Spector, F. Bonami, N. Spector, B. Vanderlinden, Maurizio Cattelan, London, 2000, pp. 18-22). The installation includes a variable number of taxidermied pigeons (or their representations) scattered throughout the exhibition space. The work evokes the familiar image of abandoned urban spaces overrun by birds, while the title alludes both to the pigeons and to the visitors who flock to the Lagoon for the Biennale every two years.
Courtesy The Artist and Perrotin Gallery
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- Giorgia Aprosio
- 23 August 2024
Pigeons as an urban “public enemy”
They are said to carry diseases, although scientifically, they are no more dangerous than other street animals. And then there is that annoyance with their omnipresence, because—let’s be honest—pigeons seem to be everywhere: they fill the squares, challenging our sense of control; they move in flocks, undermining our anthropocentric beliefs, and not least, their droppings sabotage urban decor and order.
A dangerous public enemy that couldn’t escape the keen eyes of conspiracy theorists. According to the British website "Pigeons Aren't Real," the invasion of fake birds resembling drones used for espionage allegedly began in the United States during the Reagan administration. Flocks of fake birds equipped with cameras, recorders, and wireless antennas are said to constantly monitor us, perched on the railings of our homes.
Paranoia has crossed US borders: a pigeon with Chinese writing on its rings was detained in Mumbai for eight months as a suspected spy. It was just a racing pigeon.
Odi et amo
Yet, once upon a time, the pigeon was man’s best friend. It was the first bird species to be domesticated thousands of years ago, improving its memory and adaptability and encouraging its reproduction.
They fill the squares, challenging our sense of control; they move in flocks, undermining our anthropocentric beliefs, and not least, their droppings sabotage urban decor and order.
In short, we brought this upon ourselves, and for a long time, it worked out well for us: throughout history, pigeons have proven to be valuable helpers for various purposes, from communication in wartime, to meat production during famines, to being showcased for aesthetic purposes in avian exhibitions.
Pigeons also had a significant impact on photography at the beginning of the 20th century, thanks to the idea of the German pharmacist Julius Neubronner, who was the first to try mounting a very small camera on their belly that would automatically take pictures during flight. The results were surprising, so much so that the model was perfected and classified by the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), anticipating later aerial photography technologies.
From enemy to symbol
Much more than mere birds, pigeons can be seen as a versatile symbol of the contemporary world, raising questions related to current themes such as surveillance, anthropocentrism, migration, and urban culture.
It is no coincidence that they are among the most frequently depicted animals in contemporary art, where their role transcends mere physical presence.
Notable is their appearance at the Venice Biennale in 1997 through Maurizio Cattelan's "Tourists," a display of taxidermied pigeons arranged in a completely natural manner in the space (complete with droppings on the ground). This provocative work not only brought the animals that crowd Piazza San Marco into the prestigious art event but also suggested similarities between them and the "tourists" of art lining up outside the pavilion to see the installation.
Now, the spotlight is on the gigantic hyper-realistic pigeon designed by Colombian artist Iván Argote, set to be installed in New York as part of the High Line 2024 project. "Dinosaur" satirizes the values we elevate to monuments by scaling up the animal to something legendary. A deliberately controversial symbol, it will be placed above the intersection of 10th Avenue and 30th Street, reflecting the migratory identity of most New Yorkers.
These are just two examples from a long list.
Find our selection in the gallery.
Opening image: A Banksy mural that appeared in Clacton-on-Sea in 2014
“Dinosaur” is a gigantic hyper-realistic sculpture of a pigeon made of aluminum by Colombian artist Iván Argote. Standing 16 feet tall, it will be installed on New York’s High Line in the fall of 2024, atop a plinth located at the intersection of 10th Avenue and 30th Street. The artwork satirizes the values we elevate to monumental status: by exaggerating the pigeon’s size, the artist suggests an exponential increase in the bird’s droppings, which already cover and corrode urban furniture. The title, however, elevates the pigeon to something legendary. This deliberately controversial symbol serves as a reminder of the migrant identity shared by most New Yorkers.
Amalia Ulman's artistic practice oscillates between digital and real existence. With “Excellences and Perfections”—a performance piece staged on her own Instagram profile—Ulman gained 125,000 followers by portraying and documenting her life as an IT girl in Los Angeles. In 2016, at the 9th Berlin Biennale, she introduced the public to Bob, the pigeon who one day wandered into her office and decided to stay, eventually becoming part of Ulman's artistic narrative. Bob is a loyal friend, a companion, and even God. He is a co-star and a source of inspiration for various works such as "The Humble Origins of Bob the Pigeon" and "Privilege".
“Some Pigeons Are More Equal Than Others” is a work created by Swiss artist Julian Charrière and photographer Julius von Bismark, presented as a collateral event at the 13th Venice Architecture Biennale in 2012. The artists developed a device that captures pigeons, colors them with non-toxic vibrant dyes, and releases them shortly after. Since 2012, the device has been installed in various public squares, highlighting how even a minimal aesthetic change can alter human behavior towards the species.
In “Shitting Doves of Peace and Flying Rats”, Jan Fabre uses doves and rats—two symbolically opposing animals—to reflect on the hypocrisy and contradictions of contemporary society. The doves, typically associated with peace and purity, defecate on everything they encounter, reminding us of their kinship with pigeons, which, like rats, are associated with dirt and undesirability in the collective imagination. This reversal of roles challenges traditional representations of peace and violence, inviting the viewer to reflect on the dynamics of representation.
In 1997, Maurizio Cattelan was one of the youngest Italian artists at the Venice Biennale. There, he presented his “Turisti” for the first time:
"I had gone to see the pavilion in Venice about a month before the exhibition opened. The inside was a mess and was full, really full, of pigeons. For me, as an Italian, it was like seeing something you shouldn’t see, like the Pope’s dressing room. But then again, this is the situation in Venice, so I thought I’d present it as it is, a normal situation. And of course, where there are pigeons, there’s pigeon shit."
(Interview with Nancy Spector, F. Bonami, N. Spector, B. Vanderlinden, Maurizio Cattelan, London, 2000, pp. 18-22).
The installation includes a variable number of taxidermied pigeons (or their representations) scattered throughout the exhibition space. The work evokes the familiar image of abandoned urban spaces overrun by birds, while the title alludes both to the pigeons and to the visitors who flock to the Lagoon for the Biennale every two years.