Thomas Hoepker, the Magnum photographer who died earlier this month aged 88, took this picture at Central Park Zoo in 1992. Polar bears had been introduced to the zoo in 1988, first Gus, and then his two female companions, Ida and Lily. Gus, in particular, became the zoo’s star turn, seen by 20 million people before his death in 2013. He achieved particular fame a couple of years after this picture was taken when he started compulsively swimming in a figure of eight pattern for hours at a time.
The mystery drew reporters from around the world, and prompted editorials about the frustrations of captivity. Gus was depicted as a typical New Yorker, fretful, neurotic, depressive, a symbol of the city. There was a book, What’s Worrying Gus?, and a play devoted to him. Lily and Ida, with whom he was frequently pictured cuddling, appeared to offer only fitful comfort. The zoo eventually hired a behavioural therapist at a cost of $25,000 (£19,000) to observe Gus. He was prescribed toys and treats, and offered a programme of positive reinforcement training sessions. His habitat was redesigned to incorporate a playground, and eventually the compulsive figure of eights became less frequent, without ever quite going away.
Hoepker’s picture seems, in this light, to prefigure all of that angst. The photographer, who moved to New York from his native Munich in 1976, was also a profoundly restless soul; he defined his attitude to finding pictures as “wanderlust”, the endless joy of mooching about, looking. Perhaps he sensed a kindred spirit in the animal behind the glass. The weightless bear anyhow seems to inhabit a storybook realm, just out of reach of the imaginations of the watching children. Before the cares of the world start to weigh either him or his audience down.
