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“The ark started moving, and it drifted with the tide
Them unicorns looked up from the rock and they cried
And the waters came down and sort of floated them away
And that’s why you’ve never see a unicorn … ‘till this very day…”
Shel Silverstein’s “The Unicorn” first appeared on his 1962 album “Inside Folk Songs,” and it was covered by the Irish Rovers in 1967 and that version became a huge hit and an enduring earworm.
And despite the seeming demise of the mythical creatures in Silverstein’s lyrics, they have had a longstanding presence in pop literature and culture from from Lewis Carroll’s “Through the Looking Glass” on through to the Harry Potter-verse, the saccharine cartoon-and-toy world of “My Little Pony,” and the appropriation of the unicorn as a symbol of the LGBTQ community.
The art of Emma Kathleen Hepburn Ferrer is featured in the current exhibition at UMass Dartmouth’s CVPA Campus Gallery.
“The Unicorn, and Other Creatures of Hope / Reinterpreting Traditional Iconography from the Captive Beast to the Liberated Soul” strips away the shimmer and glimmer of the pop mythological versions of the one-horned beasts. Instead, using a subdued palette and harnessing an abiding respect for what came before, her paintings and mixed media works deliver a sense of wonder that takes a deep dive into the Christian and pagan mythologies that define Europe itself.
Ferrer, the granddaughter of old Hollywood luminaries Audrey Hepburn and Mel Ferrer, resides in Tuscany and had her debut solo exhibition at the Sapar Contemporary Art Gallery in New York City in early 2025.
That show, called “The Scapegoat,” delved into a passage from the Book of Leviticus in which a pair of kid goats is brought to a ceremony. One kid is sacrificed to appease the Lord. The other kid is designated as the scapegoat and is sent off into the desert wilderness, burdened by the confessed sins of the community.
Transitioning from the Scapegoat to the Unicorn (and Other Creatures of Hope), Ferrer noted “Where before in my work there was melancholy, now there is mystery. Where before there was tragedy, now there is a glimmer of hope.”
Of all the creatures of myth — the dragon and the centaur, the mermaid and the griffin, and their ilk — it is the unicorn that seems to have most captivated the human imagination. It was first described by the Greek physician Ctesias in the 4th century BCE as a fleet-footed single horned ass, which he referred to as a “monoceros.” Often, the unicorn was imagined to be more goat than ass or horse, more caprine rather than equine.
In medieval times, unicorns were often incorporated into tapestries. Hundreds of paintings were created that incorporated the usually regal beast, the vast majority in Italy.
In paintings, unicorns were often paired with young maidens as myth had it that only virginal girls could tame them. Raphael painted “Young Woman with A Unicorn” (c. 1505). The painter Domenichino painted “A Virgin with a Unicorn” for the Palazzo Farnese (c.1604-1605). Around 1887, Gustave Moreau upped the game with “Les Licornes,” featuring four unicorns, seemingly picnicking with five young women.
In 2008, controversial conceptual artist Damien Hirst ditched the maidens altogether and suspended the taxidermied body of a white horse with a horn attached to its head in a glass and steel tank, filled with formaldehyde.
Ferrer’s paintings are devoid of people. But their very human presence is felt as the work includes not only a fountain, a cage, a manger, elaborate carriages, and a neatly made bed, but also signs of abandonment, violence and cruelty.
In “The Procession of the Unicorn,” a white goat is slung across the back of a horse. A long spiral horn has been tied to the goat’s head with a length of vine. Blood runs from its mouth and small gashes on its body. The grass and flowers go red. If a unicorn cannot be caught, then one will be made.
Something similar happens in “The Chosen.” Two small goats are in a manger of golden hay. One of them has a golden horn protruding from the top of its head. Blood gathers at the base of the horn. But whether the horn is a holy miracle or whether it was put into the skull of the beast by some nefarious human deed is not clear.
In “Surrender,” a white unicorn puts his head to the ground in submission against a field of blue. Countless arrows fly down at him. Perhaps “St. Sebastian” is a sequel painting of sorts. A spotted unicorn stands in snow. Four shafts protrude from his body. Puddles of red form on the white. And yet he stands defiant.
In “Orb,” a small white unicorn is in a gray and ghostly version of something akin to Cinderella’s coach while in “The Unicorn Carriage” another is a garish vehicle of bright red and metallic gold. It is as if the creatures they so wanted to cherish have been reduced to novelty carnival curiosities, and stripped of even animal dignity.
“Portal” is a set of two well-worn antique cabinet doors with rusted hinges. A small gray unicorn is painted directly on the raw wood. It looks upward like a baying wolf. And in the distance of our minds, a hopeful crescent moon hovers. It may be a passage to Narnia.
“Reliquary” works as an object of mystery. It is an 18th-century alms box, lined with a swath of crimson silk, into which a unicorn horn — made of brass — has been nestled.
But there is more than unicorns. After all, the title of the exhibition refers to “Other Creatures…” that include a skirt-wearing circus bear, a beached seal, and a foal with its perhaps dead mother.
“St. Francis’ Donkey” is heartbreaking. In a sparse room, there are rosary beads on a bed. The donkey looks down at the slippers at the foot of the bed and weeps because he knows his master and friend is gone.
There are no hard lines in Ferrer’s painting. Her art is moving and mesmerizing as it speaks to the mystery, mythology and meaning of life.
And then there is “The Goldfinch,” one of but a few fabric pieces in the exhibition. Beyond long being considered a symbol of fertility, Christian mythology tells the tale of the goldfinch that came to Christ as he carried the cross. It tried to ease His agony by plucking thorns from the tortuous crown. As the goldfinch tugged at a thorn, a spatter of blood stained its head, which true believers maintain explains the red marking.
In the 17th-century, goldfinches were trained to draw water from a thimble-sized bucket attached to their feet. Ferrer’s depicts that unique avian skill with thread on a bright blue background.
Save it for last.
“Emma Kathleen Hepburn Ferrer: The Unicorn, and Other Creatures of Hope / Reinterpreting Traditional Iconography from the Captive Beast to the Liberated Soul” is at the CVPA Campus Gallery, UMass Dartmouth, 285 Old Westport Rd., Dartmouth, until Jan 14.
Don Wilkinson has been writing art reviews, artist profiles and cultural commentary on the South Coast for over a decade. He has been published in local newspapers and regional art magazines. He is a graduate of the Swain School of Design and the CVPA at UMass Dartmouth. Email him at dwilkinson@newbedfordlight.org.
