Mo Ganji: Alcathoe Bat | Alcathoe-Fledermaus | Myothis alcathoe | No. 006/250 from work group 8/99

Alcathoe Bat | Alcathoe-Fledermaus | Myothis alcathoe

In a single, unbroken line, Mo Ganji draws the Alcathoe bat — a small, elusive creature that flits silently through the old deciduous forests of Europe. That solitary stroke does more than define form: it becomes a gesture of quiet presence and ephemeral life. For Ganji, the single line is more than minimalist style — it is a philosophy: reduction to essence, a stripping away of distraction, a recognition of what is essential and alive. In this piece, the delicate line evokes the bat’s fragile existence, its subtle wings beating in darkness, its intimate connection to forest and water.

The subject, Myotis alcathoe, was only described scientifically in 2001. According to the IUCN Red List, it is currently classified as Data Deficient (DD) — a status reflecting how little is known about its true population and distribution across Europe.  Still, regional assessments paint a more worrying picture: in several countries (for example Germany) it is considered “critically endangered” or “vom Aussterben bedroht,” due to its dependence on old-growth riparian or mixed forests and its sensitivity to habitat loss and forest fragmentation.

Myotis alcathoe tends to roost in mature trees near streams or in humid forest ravines, often using tree bark, cavities, or water-near forest edges — habitats increasingly threatened by logging, land use change, or forest management that removes old or decaying trees. Because the species appears to have narrow ecological preferences and limited ability to colonise new habitats, even modest disturbance can endanger local populations.

By rendering this cryptic, little-seen bat with a single, silent line, Ganji invites the viewer to sense not only its form — but its vulnerability. The line becomes a metaphor: fragile yet continuous, simple yet full of life. The artwork speaks of disappearance and the tenuous thread on which rare species hang. It becomes a quiet call — a plea for attention, respect, and protection for hidden lives that slip through forests at dusk, unnoticed until they vanish.