Landscape painting

Johan Christian Dahl - Painter of Serenity by Geoff Harrison

If I had to pick my all time favourite night time scene, it would be “View Of Dresden By Moonlight” painted by Johan Christian Dahl in 1839.  The towers reaching majestically towards the heavens, the flares on the riverbank, the candlelit rooms in the distance and the sheen of moonlight on the water.  (A very close second would be JMW Turner’s amazing watercolour “Alnwick Castle”, painted 10 years earlier.)

View of Dresden By Moonlight, 1839, 78 cm x 130 cm

View of Dresden By Moonlight, 1839, 78 cm x 130 cm

You can see why he is considered the first great Norwegian romantic painter.  In his series ‘Art Of Scandinavia’, art historian Andrew Graham Dixon paints a bleak picture of life in Norway in the years leading up to the arrival of Dahl on the artistic landscape.  Norway was essentially a backward country of farmers and fisherman, cobblers and carpenters, there were no universities, art schools or art galleries so seeking an artistic career must have seemed a pipedream.  Or an irrelevance.

But that didn’t deter Dahl who was the son of a poor west coast fisherman.  His early paintings convinced a group of wealthy local merchants to sponsor his studies in Denmark and Germany, and he would spend most of his life abroad.  Yet he would consistently return to his native Norway for inspiration.

Winter At The Sognefjord, 1827, 75 cm  x 61 cm

Winter At The Sognefjord, 1827, 75 cm x 61 cm

Sometimes he depicted harsh winter scenes, in other paintings the sun would be shining, but it was always a pale watery sun struggling to break through the clouds.  Graham-Dixon argues that Dahl saw the undeveloped landscape as a virtue, a symbol of Norway’s innocence. 

View from Stalheim, 1842, 190 cm x 246 cm

View from Stalheim, 1842, 190 cm x 246 cm

In his monumental “View From Stalheim”, Dahl seems to pull out all stops to produce a grand patriotic statement, perhaps presenting the essence of what it meant to be Norwegian at a time of rampant industrialization in other parts of Europe.

Dahl spent a large part of his life in Germany, settling in Dresden around 1820.  He befriended the famous German romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich and they became very close and were godfathers to each other’s children.  They painted and exhibited together and from 1824, even shared the same house with their respective families.

View From Lyshornet, 1836, 41 cm x 51 cm

View From Lyshornet, 1836, 41 cm x 51 cm

The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer asked in 1840 “Why has looking at the moon become so beneficiary, so soothing and so sublime?  Because the moon remains purely an object for contemplation, not of the will. […] Furthermore, the moon is sublime, and moves us sublimely because it stays aloof from all our earthly activities, it sees all, yet takes no part in it…”

There is serenity and peace in Dahl’s painting of moonlit Dresden, a suggestion of nature and people coexisting harmoniously.  We see the Augustus Bridge spanning the Elbe River and the Baroque Church of Our Lady in the middle distance, and to the right the Old Town (Altstadt) – the historic town centre.  What could have been a meditation on loneliness and alienation has perhaps become a comforting scene, a reassurance that we are not alone.

References;

Art Of Scandinavia, presented by Andrew Graham-Dixon BBC 4 (2016)

artschaft.com – Johan Christian Dahl (2018)

The Price Of Success; Jason Benjamin by Geoff Harrison

Perhaps I should start this blog with a confession.  I have never seen Jason Benjamin’s work in the flesh, so to speak.  And now he is gone.  His body was found in the Murrumbidgee River by police on the 16th February after he had been reported missing.  He was 50.  According to his Sydney dealer Ralph Hobbs, Benjamin had his ups and downs but he seemed excited about an upcoming exhibition and decided to travel to outback New South Wales to produce some paintings and poems for it.

Although predominately a landscape painter, Benjamin was a regular finalist in the Archibald and in 2005 he won the Packing Room prize with his portrait of actor Bill Hunter, titled ‘Staring Down The Past’.  His other subjects included musicians Paul Kelly and Tim Rogers.

Staring Down The Past, oil on linen, 180 cm x 240 cm (Art Gallery NSW)

Staring Down The Past, oil on linen, 180 cm x 240 cm (Art Gallery NSW)

Born in Melbourne, Benjamin spent periods of his childhood in the US and Mexico and studied at the Pratt Institute in New York City from the age of 19, but found it stifling.  Afterwards, he juggled work and art studies before returning to Australia in the early 1990’s.  He has won a number of awards including the Mosman Prize (3 times) and the Kings School Art Prize for landscape painting in 1997.

I Can't Let Go, 2004, multi-plate coloured etching (Etching House)

I Can't Let Go, 2004, multi-plate coloured etching (Etching House)

Despite spending up to 70 hours a week painting in his studio, he was able to balance this with his marriage and the demands of 2 children.  He once said that “if you have a richer life – full of experience, communication, challenges – then you’ve got more to paint”.  He describes his landscapes as “romanticized versions of reality” and apparently has been called a photo-realist painter, which just goes to show how little some people know about art.  Although he did use photography as part of his source material.  He appears to have been a fine draftsman, but there is also a rich tonality and mood inducing colour in his work. 

There Is No Easy Ride (Western plains NSW), oil on linen, 120 x 180 cm (Tiffany Jones Fine Art)

There Is No Easy Ride (Western plains NSW), oil on linen, 120 x 180 cm (Tiffany Jones Fine Art)

For those of you who know the paintings of Thomas Cole and Frederick Church, you may not be surprised to learn that they were influences on Benjamin.

Hobbs believes Benjamin’s romantic landscapes were always telling stories that were close to him. "He felt life very intensely so it wasn't just about painting trees and skies, it was a layered story of love loss, romance all through these works," he said.

"When he was in a landscape he wasn't just creating images of it, he was really feeling what it was to be in this place."

Success came early to Benjamin and it appears he may have had trouble dealing with it.  He was only 18 when he exhibited in his first group show in Manhattan. Tim Olsen, director of Olsen Galleries thought there was a melancholy in his work that paralleled his own life. “He got distracted by the promise of big money and lost his way a bit, but that's what happens with young talent.  Jason didn't know how to deal with success. It's an enormous tragedy."

Hobbs said Benjamin had his demons, “felt pressure greatly” and “found solace in addiction to help him through.But he was incredibly passionate about life and love … everything he did was an outpouring of emotion.”

We Just Knew He'd Be There (2014), oil on linen, 120 x 180 cm (Artsy.net)

We Just Knew He'd Be There (2014), oil on linen, 120 x 180 cm (Artsy.net)

Benjamin’s work has been exhibited in the National Gallery of Australia, the National Gallery of Victoria, the Parliament House Collection and in over 40 solo shows globally.  Actor Kevin Spacey is one of a number of Hollywood identities to have acquired his work.

References;

Tiffany Jones Fine Art

Australian Broadcasting Commission

The Guardian

Calm In A Crisis by Geoff Harrison

At times like these when we are reeling from the impact of the Covid 19 pandemic, not to mention last summer’s bushfires, we can become so pumped up with anxiety and dread that we can forget to keep an appointment with someone very important - our inner selves.

We might have intimations of it whilst driving on a quiet freeway or when contemplating a sunset or dawn.  I can remember when I was a kid the beautiful aroma of eucalypt forests that would waft across the suburbs of Melbourne first thing on a hot summer’s day, before the traffic pollution and rising heat obliterated it. 

Author Alain de Botton argues that we should bring a little perspective back to our needlessly tense and preciously brief lives.  I think the operative words here are “preciously brief”, and this brings me to a regular theme of his at the School of Life – the concept of a higher consciousness.  For much of our lives we have no choice but to live in a state of lower consciousness – we must in order to attend to practical everyday matters.  But taken to an extreme, this can lead to us over reacting to insults, blaming others and developing an exalted sense of who we are, our beliefs, and our place in the world.

Alone In The Marches, oil on canvas, 71 cm x 100 cm

Alone In The Marches, oil on canvas, 71 cm x 100 cm

Achieving a higher state of consciousness involves loosening our hold over our own egos and rising to a less biased perspective of the world.  Our mind moves beyond self-interest and cravings and we are able to relate more to our natural environment, wind, cloud, trees or even the aroma of a distant forest.  We may even start to have a little more compassion for our fellow human beings.  Periods of higher consciousness can be desperately short lived, but the idea is to harvest their insights for the panicky periods when we need them most.  This is not easy to achieve and I am still working on it.

Art has a role to play here as you will see from the following;

Jacob Van Ruisdael, ‘Wheat Fields’, ca 1670, oil on canvas

Jacob Van Ruisdael, ‘Wheat Fields’, ca 1670, oil on canvas

A man with a traveller’s pack approaches a woman and child in a cultivated landscape.  There is a glimpse of boats at sea on the far left.  But it’s clear the viewers’ eye is directed to the dominant sky which takes us to another level of consciousness, and thus the encounter below is rendered insignificant.

Caspar David Friedrich, ‘Monk By The Sea’, 1809, oil on canvas

Caspar David Friedrich, ‘Monk By The Sea’, 1809, oil on canvas

This painting was daring in its originality when exhibited at the Berlin Academy in 1810.  It’s not strictly a landscape or a seascape, so what is it?  Friedrich once said a painter should paint not only what he sees before him, but also what he sees within himself.  This could involve making a conversion from the material world into the spiritual world.  At a time when most artists were producing images of an idealized or corporeal world, Friedrich presented viewers with a void.  Or is it?  The presence of a figure who appears to confront the unknowable void before him adds a poignancy to the work and gives it an emotional power.  Critic Robert Rosenblum argues this painting prefigures the work of Turner and Rothko who sought to escape from the material world by distilling the mysteries of nature and spirit in veils of atmospheric colour.

Antoine Chintreuil, ‘Expanse’, 1869, oil on canvas

Antoine Chintreuil, ‘Expanse’, 1869, oil on canvas

As the realities of the industrial revolution began to hit home, with grueling and often dangerous factory work replacing traditional farm labour, there grew a demand for images of a disappearing rural Arcadia.  People were flocking to the cities to find work and just survive.

Many artists of the mid-19th century began to focus on nature’s awesome immensity as, perhaps, a form of meditation including Antoine Chintreuil with this painting that made quite an impact at the Paris Salon of 1869.  There is a rural setting in the foreground but this is reduced to insignificance by the vast horizon and the sky above.  The scene is peaceful and the sunrise “suggests a benevolent deity presiding over the verdant land below.” ROSENBLUM

‘Arctic Summer’, oil on canvas, 77 cm x 92 cm

‘Arctic Summer’, oil on canvas, 77 cm x 92 cm

Places like these really do exist and we need to acknowledge them.  They can bring a context to our own existence in the overall scheme of things.  Our relationship with the natural world is a contract.  If we respect the laws of nature, we will reap the benefits.  If not, we will be punished - as is becoming increasingly apparent.

‘Hopetoun Lawn’, oil on canvas on board, 61 cm x 72 cm

‘Hopetoun Lawn’, oil on canvas on board, 61 cm x 72 cm

When I paint a scene I try to imagine being there, how I am feeling in that scene – perhaps serene or a little melancholy but not anxious.  It helps me create a mood so that these scenes are intended to be more than just a record of what’s there.  I guess you could argue that I’m trying to access a state of higher consciousness.

References;

Alain De Botton - The School Of Life

Robert Rosenblum - Paintings In The Musee D’orsay

Robert Rosenblum & H. W. Janson - Art Of The Nineteenth Century, Painting and Sculpture





















Oasis In The City by Geoff Harrison

In my exhibition scheduled for June 2020 at Tacit Galleries in Collingwood, I will be exploring the recuperative and consoling powers nature has to offer to all of us. The exhibition will be based around Melbourne’s Botanical Gardens which I have visited many times for psychological recovery from the challenges of modern existence, such as losing one’s job, difficulties in relationships or even working one’s way through art school. It’s the responsibility of art to make us appreciate the importance of modest moments in our lives, such as the play of shadows cast by a tree on a path.

Hill Of Contentment Oil On Canvas 102 cm x 102 cm

Hill Of Contentment Oil On Canvas 102 cm x 102 cm

Modern advertising often specialises in glamourizing the unattainable; that is, places that are rare, remote, costly or famous.  Yet here we have an exotic location right under our noses that we can visit at any time.  And the sun need not be shining to appreciate the mysteries of these gardens.   A visit on a quiet and drizzly day can be an oddly therapeutic experience as you get the feeling that you have the whole gardens to yourself – tearooms and all.  Without the perpetual buzz of sight-seeing aircraft overhead, one can absorb the almost surreal beauty of the gardens, the thought that has gone into the landscaping and the far flung vistas.

Grey Day In The Gardens Oil On Canvas 71 cm x 107 cm

Grey Day In The Gardens Oil On Canvas 71 cm x 107 cm

Thanks to the barrage of advertising that constantly assails us, we lose the value of things that are close to hand, such as a quiet secluded area that allows time for contemplation. We become ungrateful for things that are free or don’t cost very much and we lose the value of ideas and feelings.

Casting A Long Shadow Oil On Canvas 102 cm x 76 cm

Casting A Long Shadow Oil On Canvas 102 cm x 76 cm

In this series I have not bothered with depicting precise species of plants as this is not meant to be an exact botanical record.  It’s a mood, a feeling that I’m intending to convey.