Cow Parade (1998-present)

Various artists

Painted fibreglass cows

~ 213 cm × 76 cm x 152 cm

Various London locations



It’s December in London, a month that is cold, dark and surprisingly expensive despite big red SALE! signs everywhere. But for those willing to brave the outdoors there’s a fun free way to kill a few hours. One dozen larger-than-life, wintry themed emperor penguins can be found warming up iconic locations around the ‘Fleet Street Quarter’. It’s the latest of many outdoor art trails that have become incredibly popular in the last few years, bringing colourfully decorated corgis, eggs, guide dogs, owls and even snowmen to the streets of London. None of this would have been possible were it not for the humble cow.

In March 2002 the early wave of Cow Parade finally landed in London, after being somewhat ironically delayed for a year due to an outbreak of foot & mouth disease. The concept was quite simple: life-sized fibreglass cows were decorated by local artists, schoolchildren, members of the public and celebrities and placed in highly visible locations all over the city. By the time summer rolled around 150 cows were roaming the streets of London. Or maybe there were 300? Some reports claimed 500. The exact figure seems to be lost in history and the London event is mysteriously not listed on the Cow Parade Wikipedia page. None of this surprises me given the contentious matters regarding the ownership of the event.

In 1998 an artistic director named Walter Knapp created the world’s first “cow parade” in Zürich as a way to boost tourism and national pride. What happened next is subject to much debate and more than a few lawsuits. The short version is that an American businessman that happened to be in Zürich got incredibly inspired by what he saw, so he brought the concept to Chicago after which it exploded with popularity, leading to a global expansion after which everyone lived happily ever after. The reality is shockingly similar to ‘The Founder’, the McDonald’s origin movie starring Michael Keaton, which reminds us that most people who get rich from a clever idea aren’t the ones who actually had the idea in the first place.

Regardless of who gets the credit a good idea is a good idea, which might explain why Cow Parade events have been staged in over 100 cities globally featuring over 7,000 cows that have been auctioned off, raising over US$40 million worldwide for charitable organisations. I’ve found photos of five of the London cows in my archives, all dated from the same grey summer day. I have no recollection of taking the pics, but 2002 was a long time ago. I do, however, remember the New York City Cow Parade from the year 2000. I was there for that one, too.

The NYC event is noted as the largest Cow Parade ever held, featuring over 450 cows. Alas, much like the London event my recollections are that it was a far more modest affair. At that scale you’d think I’d have memories of seeing them everywhere, but I don’t. I do, however, recall having a very amusing time with my girlfriend trying to find as many as we could. I remember there was a palpable excitement because it seemed like a ridiculously incongruous thing to stumble upon life-sized cows placed randomly around the Big Apple. I can still feel the silly giddiness we experienced as we made our way throughout Manhattan with a paper map and printed checklist looking for moo moos.

Anyone who’s ever seriously collected anything understands the biggest dopamine hit doesn’t come from the acquisition, it comes from the search. Knowing there might be one more cow around the next corner is what keeps you going, whatever the weather. And when you find it? It feels like your tummy does a little dance, and then maybe you’ll take a photo before you tick it off your list. And then? Then you move right on to go find the next one.

After a dozen you probably won’t remember what most of them even looked like but you’ll keep going if your master list says there are still more to see. There’s something inherently compulsive about collecting things, even if it’s just to say you briefly saw something, which might explain why you often see families, couples and singles of all ages eagerly engaged with these outdoor art trails. Don’t tell the artists, but I suspect that many people would still spend their weekends hunting down every single one even if they were never even decorated. Just a few dozen plain white cows and a checklist. That brings me to the contentious question about these outdoor animal trails: Are they art?

Absolutely, but in the same way that the Fortnum & Mason Christmas windows are art. An enormous amount of creativity and artistic skill goes into decorating these, and the artists get bonus points when they manage to come up with something that defies expectations or makes me laugh because that’s the point of these outdoor animal parades. They’re not intended to be political statements or present nuanced observations about the state of society. They’re an amuse-bouche. The little wrapped Christmas candy that a co-worker left on your desk. They’re something that will bring a smile and brief moment of joy to people when they see it, whether they specifically set out to find it or just happened to be passing by.

That’s why I like it.

It’s art that mooooves me.



Previously, on Why I Like It:

Nov — The Shadow (2024), Albano Hernández

Oct — ultraviolence (2021), Kate Dunn

Sep — Fourth Plinth (1841), Sir Charles Barry


Want more London art news?

Subscribe to the Weekly Newsletter.

It’s FREE!


Previous
Previous

2024 - Issue 134

Next
Next

Electric Dreams: Art and Technology Before the Internet