Axel Munthe liked lilies of the valley best. His favourite colour? Italian blue. Favourite foods? Apple pie, blueberry jam, and wine, which he considered the beverage of the gods.
The picture shows a man of middle age. He’s wearing a coat, warm trousers and a cap, so it must be the early Italian spring, but it could also be autumn. The man sits on a bench, leaning back on a wall. His eyes are closed, and his face turned to the sun. The natural light brightens his cheeks and throws the dark shadow of his head on the flat white surface behind him. Another light seems to emanate from the interior of the photograph, and also engulf the dogs surrounding the man. There are five of them, some larger, some smaller. Two have nestled under his arms, the third sticks to his shoulders, the fourth lies at his feet, and the fifth looks placidly into the camera from a patch of sunlight next to the bench. The entire human-canine group pulses with the luminous harmony associated with sainthood. It’s governed by a post-humanistic equality. At the very least, the man is not the central figure; if anything it’s the huge, calm dog in the
