4
Margaretta M. Lovell "Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitude" The idea of solitude is replete with dichotomies and contradictions: urban/rural; temporary/permanent; voluntary/involuntary; punishment/epiphanic salvation. In the antebellum period solitude was theorized and modeled most memorably in the withdrawal of Henry David Thoreau from the intellectual milieu of Concord to the shores of a small nearby pond. Indeed, the book that memorialized his withdrawal and the meditations enabled by that venture, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society, conversation, companionship – "Visitors." Thoreau's was a rural, temporary, voluntary withdrawal from society, a solitude deliberately engaged to foster careful observation of his surroundings, and, equally, to nourish insights and wisdom derived from his meditations on those observations. And these, then, became public, conversational, and social in their publication. Thoreau was not alone in his (temporary) embrace of solitude. Unlike their predecessors in the eighteenth century and their successors in the twentieth, artists who painted the American landscape in the nineteenth century tended to picture their ventures into nature as solitary, optically pleasurable, and deeply emotionally moving. Sanford Gifford's Kauterskill Falls (1871) is characteristic. We find ourselves deep in a golden autumnal trackless forest beside a small stream that tumbles over a low ledge of rocks in the foreground (fig. 1). The highest value in the work, the white impasto paint that describes water in motion, also draws our eye to a higher waterfall in the middle distance, and then, in the upper, further, reaches of the scene, embowered by the arching branches, to a spectacularly high long stream of water tumbling down by semi-invisible processes – in the narrative of the painting – toward the dark enclosure of our own position. That we can see not only the sparkling forms of the nearby rocks and leaves but also this spectacular distant ribbon of thundering water, so out of scale with human bodies and concerns, suggests insight and understanding of the whole complex visual event as meaningful and epiphanic for the viewer. The single, spot-lit human actor introduced into the scene does not yet see the prospect that he will soon discover. Indeed he may never leave the tangle of the dense forest floor and cross the ledge damming the stream to catch the breathtaking scene the artist has prepared for us, but we imagine that he will. We urge him on to the moment when his solitary wandering pays off in the visual gift of, metaphorically, insight that succeeds careful, meditative observational sight in nature. Just as books of poetry or philosophy in Thoreau's day were understood to be read

Margaretta M. Lovell Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitudeventure, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society,

  • Upload
    others

  • View
    4

  • Download
    0

Embed Size (px)

Citation preview

Page 1: Margaretta M. Lovell Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitudeventure, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society,

Margaretta M. Lovell

"Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitude"

The idea of solitude is replete with dichotomies and contradictions: urban/rural;

temporary/permanent; voluntary/involuntary; punishment/epiphanic salvation. In the

antebellum period solitude was theorized and modeled most memorably in the withdrawal of

Henry David Thoreau from the intellectual milieu of Concord to the shores of a small nearby

pond. Indeed, the book that memorialized his withdrawal and the meditations enabled by that

venture, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always

conjures its opposite—society, conversation, companionship – "Visitors." Thoreau's was a

rural, temporary, voluntary withdrawal from society, a solitude deliberately engaged to foster

careful observation of his surroundings, and, equally, to nourish insights and wisdom derived

from his meditations on those observations. And these, then, became public, conversational,

and social in their publication.

Thoreau was not alone in his (temporary) embrace of solitude. Unlike their

predecessors in the eighteenth century and their successors in the twentieth, artists who

painted the American landscape in the nineteenth century tended to picture their ventures into

nature as solitary, optically pleasurable, and deeply emotionally moving. Sanford Gifford's

Kauterskill Falls (1871) is characteristic. We find ourselves deep in a golden autumnal

trackless forest beside a small stream that tumbles over a low ledge of rocks in the foreground

(fig. 1). The highest value in the work, the white impasto paint that describes water in motion,

also draws our eye to a higher waterfall in the middle distance, and then, in the upper, further,

reaches of the scene, embowered by the arching branches, to a spectacularly high long stream

of water tumbling down by semi-invisible processes – in the narrative of the painting –

toward the dark enclosure of our own position. That we can see not only the sparkling forms

of the nearby rocks and leaves but also this spectacular distant ribbon of thundering water, so

out of scale with human bodies and concerns, suggests insight and understanding of the whole

complex visual event as meaningful and epiphanic for the viewer. The single, spot-lit human

actor introduced into the scene does not yet see the prospect that he will soon discover. Indeed

he may never leave the tangle of the dense forest floor and cross the ledge damming the

stream to catch the breathtaking scene the artist has prepared for us, but we imagine that he

will. We urge him on to the moment when his solitary wandering pays off in the visual gift of,

metaphorically, insight that succeeds careful, meditative observational sight in nature.

Just as books of poetry or philosophy in Thoreau's day were understood to be read

Page 2: Margaretta M. Lovell Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitudeventure, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society,

silently by a solitary reader, reenacting and re-experiencing the poet's feelings or the

philosopher's ever-deepening understanding, viewers of artworks were understood to be

singular re-animators of the artist's 'narrative' as they scrutinized such landscape paintings

(fig. 2). Even when they were seen in urban parlors or in the newly-established museums,

paintings solicited solitary, deeply- engaged viewing. This essay explores landscape painting

in the mid nineteenth century with a view to understanding the attitudes toward solitude they

embody and endorse.

Margaretta M. Lovell, currently the Jay D. McEvoy Professor of Art History at the

University of California, Berkeley, is affiliated with the American Studies Program. She is

recipient of major grants from the American Philosophical Society, the Huntington Library,

the Rockefeller Foundation, the Guggenheim Foundation, the American Antiquarian Society,

and the National Endowment for the Humanities. Her book, Art in a Season of Revolution:

Painters, Artisans, and Patrons in Early America won the Smithsonian's Charles Eldredge

Prize and the College Arts Association's Historians of British Art Prize; her A Visitiable Past:

Views of Venice by American Artists 1860-1915 was awarded the Ralph Henry Gabriel Prize

by the American Studies Association. She has also won the College Art Association's

Distinguished Teaching Award, UC Berkeley's Distinguished Mentoring Award, and UC

Berkeley's Distinguished Service Award. Her current major research project focuses on the

cultural context of antebellum landscape painter, Fitz H. Lane.

Prof. Lovell received her Ph.D. in American Studies at Yale where she studied

American and European literature, history, and art; she teaches American and British art,

architecture, material culture, and cultural history. Besides Berkeley, she has held faculty

appointments at Yale and the College of William & Mary; she has taught as Visiting

Professor at Harvard, Stanford, and the University of Michigan. She has served as curator of

American art collections at the Yale University Art Gallery and the Fine Arts Museums of

San Francisco, and has curated exhibitions as well at the National Museum of Western Art

Tokyo, and at the Huntington Library.

Page 3: Margaretta M. Lovell Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitudeventure, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society,

Fig. 1 Sanford Gifford, Kauterskill Falls, 1871, oil on canvas (Detroit Institute of Arts)

Page 4: Margaretta M. Lovell Thoreau and the Landscapes of Solitudeventure, Walden, pivots on a pair of chapters entitled "Solitude" and, because solitude always conjures its opposite—society,

Fig. 2 Frank Waller, Second Floor of 128 W. 14th St in 1878 oil on canvas (Metropolitan

Museum of Art)