What draws the eye first in Des chats (album cover) by Théophile Alexandre Steinlen is the lively assembly of cats, each frozen in a moment of eager anticipation. A young girl in a plaid dress, her golden hair softly framing her face, holds a large bowl just out of reach, while a chorus of feline figures—striped, black, calico—stretch, mew, and swirl around her feet. The composition is alive with movement: one cat stands upright, paw extended toward the bowl, while another arches its back and a third twists to squeeze between its companions.

Steinlen’s delicate line and speckled background lend the scene a sense of gentle chaos, the cats’ bodies forming a dynamic counterpoint to the girl’s calm, steady pose. The light, filtered through the pale background and the warm hues of the girl’s dress, gives the gathering a domestic warmth and intimacy. Created in 1898 for the Parisian publisher Ernest Flammarion, this work belongs to a world where art and illustration were rapidly converging in the public sphere. The late nineteenth century in Paris saw a blossoming of illustrated books, posters, and album covers, many of them designed to catch the eye of the urban bourgeoisie.

Steinlen, famed for his love of cats and his keen observation of everyday life, often captured such scenes for both commercial and artistic purposes. Though little is recorded about the journey of this particular cover, its presence today in the Bibliothèque nationale de France is a testament to the enduring charm of both its subject and its era—a moment when the ordinary rituals of home could be elevated to art. The next time you look, count the cats: each one is a story in itself.