Ongoing Gallery Series
Les Nobles Bêtes
A Recovered Archive from the Cognancy Institut des Plumes Disparues
For over a decade — possibly longer, depending on how time is calculated in marmot years — I have devoted myself to the delicate excavation of vanished zoological societies. These were not the beasts of textbooks, nor the mascots of children's tales. These were aristocrats. Visionaries. Absolute hazards at garden parties.
Les Nobles Bêtes, long assumed to be a satirical hoax or high-society hallucination, were in fact real, albeit extremely well-dressed. Their existence has been preserved only through portraiture, scandalous correspondence, and one mysteriously annotated opera program.
This archive offers the first comprehensive survey of these figures, curated through multiple folios, fragmented recollections, and reluctant museum collaborations.
— Dr. Mdme. Susan M., Esq.Zootropical Ethnobiologist, Symbolic Archivist, Curator of Lost Animalia
Legal Steward of the Cognancy Institut des Plumes Disparues
(Bar Exam pending; ethnographic credentials disputed in three regions)
Baron von Humphrington & the Riviera Years
Retired Cheese Ambassador. Elephant of considerable refinement. The Corsica Incident. Lady Bon Bon. The Unaged Stilton Affair.
Enter the Archive →
The Countess Giraffieri & the Affair of Tuesday
Lilliana Giraffieri. The fox who smoldered. Luigi who refused to make eye contact. The lemurs who ran everything. A torrid twist that was not, technically, a romance.
Enter the Archive →
The Dodo, the Fox & the Composer
A love triangle. A French art song. Étienne de Mouffette, who named all fourteen of his foxes Pierre. Fauré, who won. The painting that was never burned.
Enter the Archive →
Claude's Gallery & the Ravens
The show that had no live artist. Only a fog machine, twelve birds in hats, and a statement delivered via gramophone. Claude(?). No reply.
Enter the Archive →
The Gentlemen of Questionable Allegiance
A hippo with four timepieces. A tiger on quiet reassignment. A zebra who is actually a lemur. A platypus who ended up in Brazil. The Riviera intelligence operation that was, by any measure, a triumph of confidence over competence.
Enter the Archive →Baron von Humphrington
Elephant. Retired Cheese Ambassador of Northumberland. Esquire of the Riviera. Monocle collector. Penny-farthing enthusiast. Last seen airborne over the Ligurian Sea.
Lady Bon Bon Bonobonono
Famed aerialist of the Flying Famiglia Bonobonono. Constant companion to the Baron. Frequently traveling incognito in drag. Has outwitted five governments before breakfast.
Countess Lilliana Giraffieri
Giraffe of considerable refinement. Does not burn. Smolders, at most, and only on Tuesdays. The only creature in the Riviera circle who understood the lemur situation.
Étienne de Mouffette
Fox. Melancholic precisionist. Expelled from the École des Beaux-Arts for excessive whimsy. Named all fourteen of his foxes Pierre. Loved once. Possibly a dodo.
Luigi Salvatore Peccati
Flamingo. Dandy. Italian surrealist. Refused to make eye contact at the studio portrait. Always the béret absurde. Always too pink. Always, somehow, exact.
The Dodo
Singer. Muse. Subject of the painting that was never burned. She sang Fauré's art song at the salon while the fox stood at the edge of the room and understood he had already lost.
Claude(?)
Artist. Possibly. The gallery had no live artist. A statement was delivered via gramophone. One figure ran from the studio portrait. Maybe Claude. Maybe the valet. No reply.
The Lemurs
They run everything. They pretend to dust. They exchange glances. They know.
Mr. Baxtor von Mürmelstein
Hippopotamus. Director of Operations. Carries four timepieces. Trusts none of them. Once corrected a train schedule at a station he had never visited. The station complied.
General Raminthos
Tiger. Formerly of Japan. Tracking a missing bishop, a violinist, and the ghost of a duel. Has never confirmed nor denied the Venetian Mask Incident of 1913. Considers his detour to Japan a successful mission.
Sir Stripes Wellington
Zebra. Field operative. Is actually a lemur. Appears in reflective surfaces and late-arriving carriages. Said nothing. Meant everything. Removed his disguise before an audience. The audience was not prepared.
The Platypus
Operative. No other name. Never arrived. Dispatched to the Riviera; reached Brazil, then Morocco, then the cover of several magazines. His current whereabouts are unknown. His luggage has been to more places than most diplomats.
Monsieur / Madame Plume
Peacock. The pronouns shift with the role. Conducts opera duels with rival peacocks. Claims the tail feathers of the defeated. His fan grows with every season. He has never lost.
Accession Note — Cognancy Institut des Plumes Disparues, Ref. #NB-1909-03:
The following letter was recovered from the personal effects of Countess Lilliana Giraffieri, postmarked Menton, 12 March 1909. The blurred photograph pinned to the upper right corner is annotated in the Countess's hand: "Lui?" The subject has not been identified. The four-leaf clover pressed at the lower right is believed to be original to the document. Its significance is unknown. The Institut declines to speculate.
— Archival note, Dr. Mdme. Susan M., Esq.
LETTER FROM COUNTESS GIRAFFIERI · MENTON · 12 MARS 1909
Cognancy Institut des Plumes Disparues, Accession #NB-1909-03
12 Mars 1909 — Menton.
Ils m'ont demandé de rester "derrière la toile" comme si mon objectif troublerait l'atmosphère. Déjà il savait l'égo et l'eau de pinceau.
Je les ai pris tels comme ils sont — grandioses, voués, légèrement humides.
Luigi refusait de croiser mon regard. Typique. Toujours ce béret absurde. Toujours trop rose. Et pourtant... toujours exact. Le renard n'arrêtait pas de cligner. Le singe était pieds nus et imbibé de térébenthine. Je l'ai adoré.
L'un d'eux s'est enfui. Peut-être Claude. Peut-être le valet.
J'ai appuyé sur l'obturateur. Cela ressemblait à mettre fin à une conversation que je n'avais pas l'intention d'entreprendre.
Translation note: "légèrement humides" (slightly damp) has been rendered as written. The Institut does not interpret.
TEACUP ON FIRE, TABLE UNAWARE · c. 1909 · Artist unknown
The teacup does not know it is on fire. The table is also unaware. This is considered the definitive statement on the entire period.