The American sublime: Jaded art world gasps in amazement at American Christian landscape painters

WORLD ^ | 10/26/02 | Gene Edward Veith

[rhema]

LATELY, WHEN EXHIBITS OF GREAT European artists—the Impressionists, Vermeer, daVinci—have traveled to America, hordes of visitors have lined up at the nation's great museums for the chance to see such magnificent works.

Last spring, the tables were turned. Europeans flocked to a traveling exhibit of American art—not the modern art that finally earned Americans respect in the art world, but art from the 19th century, art by Christian artists working out of a distinctly biblical worldview.

"Stunning," said the sophisticated reviewers. "Wonderful." The London Times called it "one of the most exciting and revelatory exhibitions ... in recent years." One of the curators reported that the show provoked an uncharacteristically emotional response from the generally cool British gallery goers. "You could hear audible gasps of amazement when people walked in and saw these scenes."

The show was titled "The American Sublime: Epic Landscapes of Our Nation, 1820-1880," a collection of paintings by the so-called Hudson River School. Known for their awe-inspiring depictions of spectacular natural vistas, the Hudson River artists created America's first original artistic movement.

Though popular in their time on both sides of the Atlantic, the Hudson River artists fell out of favor in the 20th century, the age of abstract expressionism and pop art. Most Europeans today had never even heard of these artists, let alone seen their paintings. London's prestigious Tate Gallery, working with its Senior Research Fellow Andrew Wilton and Yale art historian Tim Barringer, borrowed nearly 90 paintings from American museums and collections to assemble the show.

After its British run, the exhibition traveled back to its homeland in the United States, which, ironically, had also all but forgotten some of its greatest artists. "The American Sublime" was at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia through the summer and is currently at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts until Nov. 17, after which the paintings will go back to their owners.

The term "sublime" refers to the aesthetic experience of being overwhelmed, filled with awe at something so majestic that it evokes a sense of infinity. The paintings in this show, typically huge in themselves, depict vast mountain ranges, sunsets, waterfalls, storms.

The artists were not interested in painting trifles that were "pretty." They wanted to take the viewer's breath away with scenes of terrifying grandeur.

They did this because they were self-consciously developing a distinctly Christian aesthetic. They wanted the viewer to get from their paintings a sense of the infinite power and glory of the One who created this astonishing universe.

The originator of this style, Thomas Cole, was a devout evangelical. One of his students was Jasper Cropsey, a member of the Dutch Reformed Church and heir of the Dutch Masters. Another, perhaps the best artist of them all, was Frederic Church, who, in the tradition of the great Puritan theologian Jonathan Edwards, developed the notion that nature is its Creator's self-expression.

This first generation of artists lived in New York and specialized in painting the magnificent scenery of the Hudson River valley, though Church would venture as far north as the Arctic and as far south as South America.

The later generation of artists influenced by this movement, such as Albert Bierstadt and Thomas Moran, went west to capture on canvas the limitless panoramas of the frontier. In those days before either road trips or photographs, these artists presented the Rocky Mountains, Yosemite, Yellowstone, and the Grand Canyon to the American public. Philadelphia curator Kim Sajet observes that these paintings were largely responsible for the creation by Congress of the national parks. "Congress did not see the places," she points out, "they saw the paintings."

When these artists are studied today, they are usually lumped together with the Romantics, who also had a high view of nature. But the Christian artists of the Hudson River School scorned the Romantics' focus on the self. Instead, they made sure that their human figures in their paintings were very, very small, and that viewers too would feel their littleness in light of the grandeur of God and the objective universe that He has ordained.

Neither is nature absolute. A typical Hudson River school painting will show a wide open plain, which is dwarfed by a great mountain, which, in turn, is dwarfed by an even greater mountain in the distance. Then—as the perspective goes back further and further into seemingly infinitely receding depths—come glimpses of even greater mountains, until the farthest distances dissolve in light. In other words, when looking at a Hudson River landscape, the viewer looks through nature to its Creator, the light of the world.

Hudson River landscapes are transcendent, both visually and in their understanding of the relationship between nature and God. This is in stark contrast to the next school of American artists, the Luminists, who, influenced by the Transcendentalists, really were Romantics. In their landscapes—which are beautiful to see and which anticipate the European Impressionists by decades—the light seems to pulsate from within the natural scene. God, for them, is in nature. Whereas, for the Hudson River Christians, God made nature, sustains it, is involved with it, cares for it, but however vast the natural landscape, He alone is infinite.

To the credit of its curators, the "American Sublime" exhibit, in its labeling and catalog, recognizes the religious impulse in these paintings. It also recognizes the centrality of faith to the formation of American culture. The Hudson River school artists "were trying to forge the idea of a great nation, one that was close to God," says Ms. Sajet, "and that this was a country blessed by God."

No wonder people jaded by the content-free pretensions of modern art, and made cynical by the ironic contradictions of postmodern art gasp at the sight of these American landscapes.

Contemporary Christian artists, in whatever field, can learn much from their predecessors. Many follow secular styles, naively trying to force some Christian content into intrinsically incompatible artistic theories. They would be better off devising original, new styles of their own suited for the truth they want to convey, styles that will make the secular world want to emulate them.

[ovrtaxt]

re: post 63--

that looks just like the area around Tampa!

[TomSmedley]

You don't like Kincaid's work - I would suggest it's because he's a Christian, and not because you think his art is unrealistic.

Actually, Kincaid is a Mormon, a faith that offers a convincing superficial simulcrum of Christianity spread as a gloss over a heart of bizarre and unreal cultic mind-warp.

[AnAmericanMother]

Here's some more Homer:

"The Fog Warning". One of the men Kipling wrote about in "Captains Courageous", about the same time period.

"Life Line".

"The Gulf Stream" - probably Homer's most well-known painting.

He had an amazing range. He could paint homely New England scenes, wild seascapes, intimate portraits. His Civil War work is wonderful. To-wit, the following little capsule summary of the war "Prisoners from the Front". He nails the characters of the men in this painting perfectly, and honestly - even though he was a New Englander himself, he knocks the prissy REMF Union officer off in one.

[AnAmericanMother]

Oh. . . I almost forgot. Homer also did outrageously wonderful watercolors -- of the sea, and of the Adirondack wilds. Watercolor is incredibly difficult to "get right" - and there are no second chances. Isn't this beautiful?

And in a completely different mood, with equal if not greater skill:

Every time I look at his work again I am in awe.

[Lilly]

Oh FRiend, thank you for the Heavenly works you sent my way! You have made my day!

God Bless you FRiend!

[my_pointy_head_is_sharp]

If you find the print ever becomes available, I hope you can remember my name and flag me. :0)

I will.

And when the Museum reopens, and the painting is on display once again, perhaps you'll get a chance to see it in person.

Ack! I just looked up online when it's scheduled to reopen -- Spring of 2005. That is depressing. I don't know why it has to take that many years. But then again, San Francisco does everything very very slowly.

[Sir Gawain]

-

[my_pointy_head_is_sharp]

Thanks. Those are both keepers. The second one makes a great wallpaper, BTW. I just tried it out. It fits perfectly on my laptop screen.

Maybe I'll start a panorama file (desktop slide show) using art works. That would be fun.

[AnAmericanMother]

Desktop slide show as a screen saver would be a great idea!(How do you do that by the way?)

Re the museum and its long-delayed opening: I would write or call them anyhow, and ask if (1) they are instituting a print sale program in connection with the renovation; and (2) if they have this work out on loan. Storage on those things (especially big paintings) is outrageously expensive, has to be climate controlled, etc. Most curators faced with a long down-time like this will have placed everything they can with other museums. SOMEbody will be willing to talk to you and explain what's going on.

As far as the print sales program, I contacted the Tate Gallery several years ago looking for prints of some of their works (I'm a big fan of British painting and they have a very nice collection). May have just been a coincidence, but after I started bugging them they instituted a very well-organized and comprehensive print order program. You can obtain all major and many minor holdings on archive-quality paper in different sizes. Of course, you won't get that lovely texture on the moon, but a really nice print would be better than nothing at all!

Unfortunately there is nothing like standing in front of the Real Thing. We went to the Five Rings exhibit when it toured in connection with the '96 Olympics. It was almost overwhelming -- a couple of large Russian seascapes had me looking for a life jacket -- my kids were horrified/ fascinated by Artemisia Gentileschi's "Judith and Holofernes" . . . it is undeniably shocking in larger-than-life and living (or dying) color.

[my_pointy_head_is_sharp]

Desktop slide show as a screen saver would be a great idea! (How do you do that by the way?)

This is the one I use: Panorama 32, version 1.31. You may want to use a more recent version (if one is available), but I find that this one suits me just fine. It's so easy to install. If I can install it and figure it out, then anybody can (I'm not technically inclined, at all).

Panorama 32

[CyberAnt]

Well excuuuuuuuussssee me!

[AnAmericanMother]

. . . . the Prophet-General says for y'all to take this argument over there to the left somewhere and leave the artists alone . . . . ;-D

[JudyB1938]

2005? I'll probably be dead by then. LOL

[my_pointy_head_is_sharp]

2005? I'll probably be dead by then. LOL

LOL! That's what I was thinking, only I didn't have the guts to say it.

[Pete from Shawnee Mission]

Well...this is about as close as I will get to Niagra anytime soon... The painting is a large. When this was first painted it was on display in NCY at 50 cents a head. It helped make Church a name and enough money to continue painting. Thanks for posting it! I need to get back over to the library and revisit his works.

[Pete from Shawnee Mission]

"The thing that disturbs me the most about Kinkade is his inconsistent lighting, but he also
has trouble with inconsistency in paint handling between the building and the landscape,
with perspective (his view is flat and "scrunched") . . . and I notice that his later paintings
are becoming imitative of a wide variety of artists, from impressionistic to HRS. "

According to a radio show that I listened to , Mr. Kinkade is his own company that has issued stock and has a number of stores throughout the country ( the stock was not doing well). He may originate his own paintings, but he has a process for duplicating and assistants to help with final painting and drying boxes to move the whole process along. (Probably uses Alkyd paint as well.) Any originals that he paints cost the most, paintings he does part of a little less, the assistant finished or processed prints, less... (How else would you fill all the stores? How many gallaries can one artist fill?)

He promotes himself as the "painter of light, " and his paintings' nostalgic appeal to people seeking simpler and more certain times. His painting has its place as greeting cards and calander design productive of nostalgic feeling, but does not communicate the sense and experience of the mysterious, sublime and aweful (old sense) communicated by the earlier American artists that are the subject of this post.

[my_pointy_head_is_sharp]

Winslow Homer fans:

An exhibition of 65 paintings at the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, December 7, 2002 - February 9, 2003.

Here's the link:

Winslow Homer exhibit in San Francisco

Other venues:
Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas
April 19-June 29, 2003

[AnAmericanMother]

Well, by golly, that explains the inconsistencies within a single painting, doesn't it? Different artists would certainly account for that! (One guy's assigned to paint the skies, one guy the houses, one guy the flowers, etc.)

There is precedent for a "studio" handling things this way -- for example, it's widely accepted that Leonardo da Vinci as a young student painted subordinate figures and backgrounds for his master Andrea Verrochio. Most notably, the left-hand kneeling angel in this "Baptism of Christ":

But somehow Kinkade doesn't rise to that level . . . ;-)

[AnAmericanMother]

What, it's not sponsored by Orvis and L.L. Bean?

(LOL)

Talk about a microcosm of a particular artist's work! They do say that an expert knows more and more about less and less, but this is pretty funny! Imagine specializing in the fly-fishing watercolors of Winslow Homer!

[Ditter]

You are more right than you even know. As an art student I watched some of my fellow students struggle with drawing. Some of those who never were able to master it, became abstract painters.