The dachshund, a humorous icon with political symbolism

Pablo Picasso was renowned for having numerous muses — mostly women with whom he also had harmful relationships. But there's at least one of these muses who was freed from toxic romantic entanglement: a cute dachshund called Lump.

Before becoming his most famous canine model, Lump originally belonged to US photojournalist David Douglas Duncan.

The dog and the photographer visited the painter at his villa in Cannes in 1967. According to Duncan, upon their first encounter, Lump jumped right onto Picasso's lap. He apparently "decided" to stay with the painter and they lived together for six years.

The story does not reveal how Lump's decision was communicated, but that immediate special bound was immortalized through art: Picasso painted the dachshund's portrait directly onto a ceramic dinner plate that day, and Duncan did a series of photos documenting them together while the work was created.

The plate and the photos are on show at the new exhibition "The Dachshund. An Icon off the Leash" held at the Kunsthalle Bremen until March 28, 2027.

Lump also appears in many of Picasso's series of paintings reinterpreting Diego Velazquez's masterwork "Las Meninas," in which the original work's large mastiff was replaced with his adoptive pet.

A particularly iconic animal

With their long ears and extreme length compared to their short legs, dachshunds have a silhouette that's instantly recognizable: "It's really a dog with an iconic shape, and that makes them interesting for many things" — from art to advertisement, says exhibition curator and art historian Annett Reckert.

Alongside Picasso, a surprising number of important artists, including Andy Warhol, Otto Dix, David Hockney, Max Liebermann and Rosemarie Trockel, have paid tribute to the dachshund. "It's striking how often the dachshund has served as a muse, model and studio accomplice for them," Reckert tells DW.

Combined with this prolific artistic career, the dachshund can equally be explored from a historical perspective, since "there's also the fact that we associate them with something German," the curator adds.

Germany's 'badger dog'

Bred to track and chase badgers, foxes, rabbits and other burrowing animals, the dachshund originated in Germany over 300 years ago. Breed standards were established in 1879, and the German Teckel Club (DTK) — one of the oldest dog breeding organizations in Germany — was founded in 1888.

The name combines the German words "Dachs" (badger) and "Hund" (dog), literally translating to "badger dog." But Germans more commonly call them Dackel or Teckel.

Because of their long, narrow build, dachshunds are also colloquially known in English-speaking countries as wiener dogs or sausage dogs.

An evolving cultural icon

Beyond their role as hunting dogs, dachshunds have a surprisingly rich place in German cultural history, from bourgeois stereotype to Olympic icon.

Germany's last emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II, was an avid dachshund enthusiast and owned several of them.

Two of his dogs, Wadl and Hexlsome, made history by causing a minor diplomatic incident during a visit to the estate of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, Konopiste Castle, in 1908. The dachshunds reportedly killed one of the archduke's prized golden pheasants. The attack was widely commented in aristocratic circles, and Kaiser Wilhelm II was forced to issue a formal apology.

The pheasant incident was obviously not as consequential as another event involving Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne: his assassination in Sarajevo on June 28, 1914, which became the primary catalyst of World War I.

Still, the dachshund remained present throughout this global conflict. In propaganda maps and political cartoons, Germany was represented as a dachshund, while the British as a bulldog and the French, a poodle.

The popularity of the dachshund in the United States plummeted during the First World War because of this association; those who owned one called their dogs "liberty hounds" instead of using the German word.

During World War II, dachshunds were used for military tasks such as mine detection.

However, their missions weren't as outlandish as the stories published by the UK's tabloid press relatively recently, which claimed that the Nazis aimed to build armies of talking dachshunds. The rumors followed the publication of a non-fiction book on dogs published in 2011, "Amazing Dogs: A Cabinet Of Canine Curiosities," which outlined Nazi research into dogs' — including dachshunds' — intelligence and personalities.

The dachshund definitely didn't fit into the Nazis' aesthetics: "They were used in the war, too, but not in the same way as other dogs. After all, they weren't the kind of dog a Nazi would have wanted to be seen with for the sake of appearances," notes Reckert. "Take Hitler, for instance: He famously made public appearances with his German Shepherd, Blondie. They would rather be seen with a Dobermann, or dogs that looked big and dangerous."

A symbol of the 'other' side Germany

The endearing potential of the dachshund is actually one of the ideas that guided Reckert in her curation of the exhibition. They "simply give the impression that they have a sense of humor," the art historian says. "That's an attribution, of course. But they really do spread good cheer and have a truly likable character."

In the 1970s, this slightly absurd and cheerful domestic companion inspired a figure embodying a new image for West Germany: the official mascot for the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, Waldi.

A stark contrast to the heavy symbols that represented Germany during the Third Reich — the eagle, Germania, forests, Wagner and Prussian discipline — the mascot created by renowned graphic designer Otl Aicher and his intern, Elena Schwaiger, was as iconic as the shape of the dachshund.

The designer was vehemently against including brown, or any of Germany's national colors — red, black and gold — in the brand identity. Instead, he went for delicate pastel shades: "The approach to color was truly visionary," notes Reckert. "Their intention was something we are still working on today — something we still haven't completely achieved: an open, cheerful, democratic and colorful Germany."

Still today, right-wing extremist groups attempt to co-opt the dachshund as a subtle nationalist fashion symbol that appears on ties or socks, inspired by accessories worn by Alexander Gauland. On the other hand, "Dachshunds Against the Right" has also emerged as a counter-protest movement.

But altogether, Reckert has focused on the dachshund as a symbol of friendliness and joy while conceiving "The Dachshund. An Icon off the Leash." The exhibition includes halls that are open to small dogs, and even features artworks and performances specifically designed for them.

The feedback she's been getting in the run-up to the show also aligns with this cheerful image. She notes that hardly a day goes by without something arriving in the mail related to the dachshund — whether pictures, artworks or information about dachshund-related events: "It's really crazy," she says, showing examples of the stuff she's received. "I've never had an exhibition that was greeted ahead of its opening in such a friendly, diverse way. It's almost a bit uncanny, really."