These two works are inseparable. They were made by the same hand, they carry a single story between them.
The Story
In the winter of 1871, tragedy came to the small carving community of Brienz. Johann Huggler's younger brother Albert — his closest companion, collaborator, and fellow carver — was lost in a climbing accident high in the Alpine mountains above the village.
The search that followed was long and desperate. Among those who took part were Johann himself and his friend and fellow carver Walter Mader, accompanied by his loyal dog, Nase. The terrain was unforgiving, the winter severe. When the search finally ended, it brought only loss. Albert was gone — and in the course of the search, Nase too was lost in the mountains.
For Johann, the grief was devastating. Albert had been more than a brother; he was his artistic counterpart, with whom he had built both a life and a workshop. In the months that followed, Johann withdrew, carrying a loss that marked a turning point in his life and work.
In time, he returned to carving — but now with a different purpose. Around 1873, he created a powerful memorial: a sculptural group depicting himself standing above his fallen brother Albert on a mountain ledge. The figure of Johann stands at the summit, rope coiled at his shoulder, hat held at his chest — the posture of a man pausing in the aftermath of something irreversible. Below him, Albert lies fallen across the rocks, limbs slack, bound with rope, the head lowered to the stone. The composition is restrained and solemn, devoid of theatricality. It is not simply a scene. It is an act of remembrance — grief translated into enduring form.
The loss was shared. Walter Mader, who had stood beside Johann through the search, had lost his beloved dog Nase on that same mountain. In the years that followed, knowing Johann was not naturally drawn to dogs, Walter presented him with a pup at Christmas in 1873 — said to be part wild dog, perhaps part wolf. Johann embraced the animal, naming it Gestank, and through this companionship came to understand, in a deeply personal way, what Walter had lost.
Johann responded in the only way he truly could — through wood. He visited Walter and presented him with a carving of Nase, rendered with remarkable sensitivity and lifelike presence. Walter later recorded that the likeness was so true it made the hair stand on the back of his neck.
The carving carries a further, deeply personal meaning. Johann Huggler was known for leaving his works unstained, allowing the natural wood to speak for itself. Walter, by contrast, often stained his carvings. In a quiet gesture of respect, Johann introduced subtle coloration here, reflecting the natural tones of Nase — an artistic concession that acknowledges both the subject and the man who would receive it.
On the underside, Johann burned a simple, symbolic mark: two mountain slopes intersected by two vertical lines — representing the two lives lost that winter. Albert and Nase. Taken by the mountain. It is a discreet memorial, visible only to those who look closely, yet central to the meaning of the work.
Walter recorded the moment in his journal following Johann's visit:
"He comes early in the year… and as we sit by the fire, he places in my hands a wrapped cloth. Inside I hold what I have missed — Nase. He has carved my dear dog back to life… beneath, the slopes of two, marked twice — for Albert and for Nase, taken by the mountain…"
The Works
The memorial group is monumental in both scale and emotional weight. Johann stands at the summit of a rocky Alpine ledge, rope coiled at his shoulder, hat held at his chest, looking down at his brother below. Albert lies fallen across the rocks, limbs slack, bound with rope, the head lowered to the stone. The composition rises on a strong vertical axis from the fallen man to the standing figure above, the diagonal of the ledge creating a visual tension that mirrors the psychological weight of the subject. Every detail — the texture of the rope, the lacing of the boots, the grain of the rock face, the expression of the standing figure — is rendered with the authority of a master carver working from the deepest personal necessity.
Beside the group, Nase lies at rest — a long-haired hound carved in walnut with extraordinary sensitivity, the coat rendered through long, flowing tool strokes that capture both the texture and the movement of the fur. The dog's expression carries the particular quality of a portrait made from direct observation and deep affection: not a type, but an individual — a specific animal, remembered. The subtle staining Johann introduced gives the coat a warmth and naturalism that distinguishes this work from anything produced for the open market. It was made for one person, in response to one loss, and it shows.
Together, the two works form a single, deeply human narrative. One is Johann's memorial to his brother; the other, his gift of remembrance to his friend. Both were made not for exhibition, not for sale, but as direct responses to lived experience — and it is this, as much as the exceptional quality of the carving, that makes them irreplaceable.
The Maker
Johann Huggler (1834–1912) is widely regarded as the pre-eminent master of the Swiss Black Forest carving tradition. His works were exhibited at the great international exhibitions and world's fairs of the late nineteenth century — the Exposition Universelle in Paris, the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago — where they played a decisive role in establishing the global reputation of Brienz carving among collectors across Europe and America. Signed examples of his work are rare on the market and consistently represent the highest standard of achievement within the tradition. The present works, made for private reasons and never intended for the market, represent a dimension of his art that signed exhibition pieces alone cannot reveal.
*These works will be highlighted in the updated version of “Swiss Carvings: The Art of the Black Forest.”
Condition: Both works are carved in walnut and are in very good overall condition. Patina original throughout. Carving is complete and crisply preserved across all principal elements. Burn mark present and legible on the underside of the Nase carving. Minor wear consistent with age and honest use; no restorations noted.
Literature Jay Arenski, Simon Daniels, and Michael Daniels, Swiss Carvings: The Art of the Black Forest, 1820–1940 (2006).
These two works are inseparable. They were made by the same hand, they carry a single story between them.
The Story
In the winter of 1871, tragedy came to the small carving community of Brienz. Johann Huggler's younger brother Albert — his closest companion, collaborator, and fellow carver — was lost in a climbing accident high in the Alpine mountains above the village.
The search that followed was long and desperate. Among those who took part were Johann himself and his friend and fellow carver Walter Mader, accompanied by his loyal dog, Nase. The terrain was unforgiving, the winter severe. When the search finally ended, it brought only loss. Albert was gone — and in the course of the search, Nase too was lost in the mountains.
For Johann, the grief was devastating. Albert had been more than a brother; he was his artistic counterpart, with whom he had built both a life and a workshop. In the months that followed, Johann withdrew, carrying a loss that marked a turning point in his life and work.
In time, he returned to carving — but now with a different purpose. Around 1873, he created a powerful memorial: a sculptural group depicting himself standing above his fallen brother Albert on a mountain ledge. The figure of Johann stands at the summit, rope coiled at his shoulder, hat held at his chest — the posture of a man pausing in the aftermath of something irreversible. Below him, Albert lies fallen across the rocks, limbs slack, bound with rope, the head lowered to the stone. The composition is restrained and solemn, devoid of theatricality. It is not simply a scene. It is an act of remembrance — grief translated into enduring form.
The loss was shared. Walter Mader, who had stood beside Johann through the search, had lost his beloved dog Nase on that same mountain. In the years that followed, knowing Johann was not naturally drawn to dogs, Walter presented him with a pup at Christmas in 1873 — said to be part wild dog, perhaps part wolf. Johann embraced the animal, naming it Gestank, and through this companionship came to understand, in a deeply personal way, what Walter had lost.
Johann responded in the only way he truly could — through wood. He visited Walter and presented him with a carving of Nase, rendered with remarkable sensitivity and lifelike presence. Walter later recorded that the likeness was so true it made the hair stand on the back of his neck.
The carving carries a further, deeply personal meaning. Johann Huggler was known for leaving his works unstained, allowing the natural wood to speak for itself. Walter, by contrast, often stained his carvings. In a quiet gesture of respect, Johann introduced subtle coloration here, reflecting the natural tones of Nase — an artistic concession that acknowledges both the subject and the man who would receive it.
On the underside, Johann burned a simple, symbolic mark: two mountain slopes intersected by two vertical lines — representing the two lives lost that winter. Albert and Nase. Taken by the mountain. It is a discreet memorial, visible only to those who look closely, yet central to the meaning of the work.
Walter recorded the moment in his journal following Johann's visit:
"He comes early in the year… and as we sit by the fire, he places in my hands a wrapped cloth. Inside I hold what I have missed — Nase. He has carved my dear dog back to life… beneath, the slopes of two, marked twice — for Albert and for Nase, taken by the mountain…"
The Works
The memorial group is monumental in both scale and emotional weight. Johann stands at the summit of a rocky Alpine ledge, rope coiled at his shoulder, hat held at his chest, looking down at his brother below. Albert lies fallen across the rocks, limbs slack, bound with rope, the head lowered to the stone. The composition rises on a strong vertical axis from the fallen man to the standing figure above, the diagonal of the ledge creating a visual tension that mirrors the psychological weight of the subject. Every detail — the texture of the rope, the lacing of the boots, the grain of the rock face, the expression of the standing figure — is rendered with the authority of a master carver working from the deepest personal necessity.
Beside the group, Nase lies at rest — a long-haired hound carved in walnut with extraordinary sensitivity, the coat rendered through long, flowing tool strokes that capture both the texture and the movement of the fur. The dog's expression carries the particular quality of a portrait made from direct observation and deep affection: not a type, but an individual — a specific animal, remembered. The subtle staining Johann introduced gives the coat a warmth and naturalism that distinguishes this work from anything produced for the open market. It was made for one person, in response to one loss, and it shows.
Together, the two works form a single, deeply human narrative. One is Johann's memorial to his brother; the other, his gift of remembrance to his friend. Both were made not for exhibition, not for sale, but as direct responses to lived experience — and it is this, as much as the exceptional quality of the carving, that makes them irreplaceable.
The Maker
Johann Huggler (1834–1912) is widely regarded as the pre-eminent master of the Swiss Black Forest carving tradition. His works were exhibited at the great international exhibitions and world's fairs of the late nineteenth century — the Exposition Universelle in Paris, the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago — where they played a decisive role in establishing the global reputation of Brienz carving among collectors across Europe and America. Signed examples of his work are rare on the market and consistently represent the highest standard of achievement within the tradition. The present works, made for private reasons and never intended for the market, represent a dimension of his art that signed exhibition pieces alone cannot reveal.
*These works will be highlighted in the updated version of “Swiss Carvings: The Art of the Black Forest.”
Condition: Both works are carved in walnut and are in very good overall condition. Patina original throughout. Carving is complete and crisply preserved across all principal elements. Burn mark present and legible on the underside of the Nase carving. Minor wear consistent with age and honest use; no restorations noted.
Literature Jay Arenski, Simon Daniels, and Michael Daniels, Swiss Carvings: The Art of the Black Forest, 1820–1940 (2006).
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