Get ready for wonders with the majesty of Russian painting and the endless glories of the European schools. All of these collections are part of an effort to recover the arts of the West - for the beauty and as material for a future historical account. The more 19th-century painting we look at and share, the more we realize what a powerful thing was taken from us. Without much of a ripple. Because art had already been de-moralized and cut off before it was fully inverted into Art! That's how the process works and why it's hard to spot - first it de-moralizes, so you become accustomed to the old thing but without the meaning. Then it inverts, since it's gradually come to be meaningless anyhow. The thing is, art didn't stop - it just got pushed off the timeline.
Ivan Shishkin, Twilight, 19th century
Russia and Europe are a fitting pair historically - one technically part of, but never really fitting in the latter. When able to draw on the European part of their heritage while remaining true to their unique land and culture, the results are breathtaking. The combination of raw, natural force and technical genius is unique. For their part, the Europeans bring beauty of every kind.
Russian
The raw natural beauty is the first thing that jumps out from this group, with the incredible texture a close second. When at its best you can almost feel Russian painting. Shishkin leads the way - a landscape genius that studied at the Dusseldorf School and taught at the Imperial Academy for over a quarter century. His wilderness scenes have to be seen to be understood. Aivazovsky is known around the Band simply as the master of water. Klever might be the most textural realist of them all. And there are others. Lots of variety, but look at enough of them and you start to pick up on the deeper connection.
Checking in with the Russians & a master landscape painter. His skill with texture gives a sense of how things feel.
Narrow but spacious, distant light pulls you into unknown depth.
Ivan Shishkin, Brook in a Forest, 1880
Checking in on the Russians with a painter of haunting texture & atmosphere.
Klever is a master of winter scenes, but can do dampness too. This misty old forest is like a fantasy world made real.
Julius Klever, Forest, 1911
The master of water doing the thing he does the best.
A masterclass in the colors, lights & translucent forms of a turbulent sea. He even blurs the transition where ocean meets sky.
Ivan Aivazovsky, Stormy Sea, 19th century
Russian painter using minimal light to striking effect.
Hints of color in the patches of light keep it from becoming oppressive. Instead there’s a stark beauty here.
Arkhip Kuindzhi, Moonlit Night on the Dnieper, 1880
Sunday evening with the master of water & a blazing sunset.
Public testimonials to the historic presence of faith were once common. The price of “secularism” is incalculable.
Ivan Aivazovsky, Chapel on the Seashore, 1847
Russian painters capture the texture of leaves & bark, giving their forest scenes a wild beauty.
The figures hint at a story, just as the stream teases a world around the bend.
Ivan Shishkin, Brook in a Birch Grove, 1883
Their winter scenes are famous, but Russian artists paint hot summers too.
The textures Russian painting is known for come through. The lily pads in the front look three-dimensional.
Ilya Ostrouhov, River at Midday, 1892
Not every day is sunny. Shishkin’s blend of roughness & realism is perfect for a misty grove.
The contrast with the foreground detail looks like the rain is causing the blur.
Ivan Shishkin, Rain in Oak Forest, 1891
Tremendous atmosphere from a Russian painter. Low light makes it easy to miss all the colors on the ground.
Some pictures feel like you’ve walked into a story. The lantern helps.
Ivan Avgustovich Veltz, Moonlit Street, 1908
Time for the master of water. This time with the savage power of the ocean.
The beauty of his translucent waves never stops being mesmerizing - no matter how many times you see it.
Ivan Aivasovsky, Storm at Sea, 1881
End of day with a Russian master. He can make you feel a place like few others.
He nails the twilit forest. The last glimmers of light on the ground are as impressive as the reflection.
Ivan Shishkin, Twilight, 19th century
European
From the epic sublimity of Russia to the breadth of the European schools. European painting - like Europe itself - is a cluster of distinct cultures under a set of meta-cultural values. It's why their art fits together but seems so diverse. We could have put the Russians in here - they'd fit as a strong national school. But we kept them out for similar reasons as the English. Just as we could have kept out the Scandinavians. It's messy down here in the material world. And the only wrong answer is one that keeps us from this beauty and heritage.
Grand summer view of America’s natural bounty from a German painter. Contrast this with the globalist fetish for urban sprawl.
It’s amazing how often aesthetic judgments provide a moral heuristic.
Paul Weber, The Susquehanna Valley, 19th century
Sunday morning reminder that healthy organic communities are anchored by faith.
“Technology” doesn’t prevent this. Centralizing satanic authority does.
Wilhelm Georg Wagner, A Village with Children Gathering Firewood, 1850
French artist with a special painting. Sometimes artists just fire on all cylinders.
Like this symphony of greens where the line between real & enchanted feels very thin.
René Charles Edmond His, The Water Lilies, 1899
Norwegian artist painted land, people & tradition with joy & wonder.
The West sold it to the beast for dancing lights. Like Jack if the beans weren’t magic. But it’s the future.
Hans Dahl, Admiring the View, 19th century
Late night picture of a Dutch market. Organic community scenes show how simple it is and what is needed.
Not just the people - you can see the steeple in the moonlight
Petrus van Schendel, The Candlelit Market, 19th century
Painters use haze to depict distance or heat. It’s doing both on this French summer day.
But the way the view is framed makes it seem like a glimpse into another world.
Henri Biva, A Summer’s Day on the Lake, 19th century
Tranquil Dutch seascape at the end of the working day. The typical low horizon leaves a lot of room for subtle sunset lighting.
The stillness is palpable. Until tomorrow.
Abraham “The” Hulk, Fishing Vessels in an Estuary, 19th century
French painter with the magical light & atmosphere of a Venetian evening.
Without electricity the light effects are so subtle. Like stepping into a story.
Friedrich Nerly, Santa Maria Della Salute, Venice, 19th century
Swiss painter with the misty freshness of an Alpine morning. The sun will be hot, but evening coolness lingers in the shade.
This is an arm of Lake Geneva - a scenic wonder of the world.
Alexandre Calame, Am Urnersee, 1849
German painter with the haze, glare & washed-out colors of the Mediterranean sun.
Art shows the range of cultures that make up the West. It doesn’t need more.
Franz Richard Unterberger, Amalfi, Gulf of Salerno, 19th century
Danish marine painter with translucent waves & a sunset sky.
Contrast between the sharply-defined boat & misty mountains adds an epic feel - at once real & mythic.
Carl Frederik Sørensen, Paddle Steamer in Heavy Seas, 1869
Sunday morning brings faith, nature & culture into beautiful harmony. The essence of the West.
The modern error was thinking one could replace the others.
Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Gothic Church on a Rock by the Sea, 1815
French artist with a sharply-drawn town against a dramatic Alpine scene.
How he shows the beautiful harmony between organic culture & environment.
Charles Euphrasie Kuwasseg, Fishing before a Lakeside Town, 19th century
Back to the summer heat with a Spanish master of river scenes.
His variations on the theme differ subtly in light & feel. This one’s a hot still day.
Emilio Sanchez-Perrier, A Quiet Afternoon on the River, 19th century
Swiss artist with an Alpine summer. Mountain life always feels close & intimate.
The Alps are steep & rocky for their height, making them very scenic.
Johann Gottfried Steffan, In the Nesttal, Canton Glarus, 19th century
Danish artist with a calm woodland day.
Over time, you see how different styles create atmosphere. This is clear & realistic, with just enough summer haze.
Peder Mørk Mønsted, Wooded River Landscape, 19th/20th century
Dutch painter with a bright moon over a quiet town. Before electricity, the subtleties of evening light more clear.
And before modernity taught fear of the dark again.
Johan Barthold Jongkind, Clair de lune à Overschie, 1855
Sunday night reminder that organic communities look after their own.
The difference is that recipients are expected to conform to the values of the community.
Petrus van Schendel, Charity in the Night Market, 19th century
Good morning SG!
Austrian painter with a bright start to the workday.
Before everything electrified, life depended on natural light. Like camping.
Carl Joseph Kuwasseg, Fisherfolk on a Shore at Sunrise, 19th century
German painter with the mist rising in a Norwegian fjord. How morning breaks depends on where you are.
But people need to work. The alternative is mouse utopia.
Themistokles von Eckenbrecher, Laerdal-Soeren-Fjord, 1908
This isn’t technically a literary painting, but it could be a Tolkien cover.
Joseph Anton Koch, Der Schmadribachfall, 1821
Grand landscapes are awesome, but close views intrigue.
They’re focused & intimate - like you could step into the scene. The stories they suggest become personal.
Henri Biva, Forest Meadow with a Stream, 19-20th century
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