When CasÂpar David Friedrich comÂpletÂed Der WanÂderÂer ĂĽber dem Nebelmeer, or WanÂderÂer Above the Sea of Fog, in 1818, it “was not well received.” So says galÂlerist-YoutuÂber James Payne in his new Great Art Explained video above, which focusÂes on Friedrich’s most famous paintÂing. In the artist’s lifeÂtime, the WanÂderÂer in fact “marked the gradÂual decline of Friedrich’s forÂtunes.” He withÂdrew from sociÂety, and in 1835, “he sufÂfered a stroke that left the left side of his body effecÂtiveÂly parÂaÂlyzed, effecÂtiveÂly endÂing his career.” How, over the cenÂturies since, did this once-ill-fatÂed paintÂing become so iconÂic that many of us now see it refÂerÂenced every few weeks?
Friedrich had known popÂuÂlar and critÂiÂcal scorn before. His first major comÂmisÂsion, paintÂed in 1808, was “an altarÂpiece which shows a cross in proÂfile at the top of a mounÂtain, alone and surÂroundÂed by pine trees. Hard for us to underÂstand now, but it caused a huge scanÂdal.” This owed in part to the lack of traÂdiÂtionÂal perÂspecÂtive in its comÂpoÂsiÂtion, which preÂsaged the feelÂing of boundÂlessÂness — overÂlaid with “rolling mists and fogs” — that would charÂacÂterÂize his latÂer work. But more to the point, “landÂscape had nevÂer been conÂsidÂered a suitÂable genre for overtÂly reliÂgious themes. And of course, norÂmalÂly the cruÂciÂfixÂion is shown as a human narÂraÂtive popÂuÂlatÂed by human figÂures, not Christ dying alone.”
It’s fair to say that Friedrich did not do things norÂmalÂly, both philoÂsophÂiÂcalÂly — breakÂing away, with his felÂlow RomanÂtiÂcists, from the mechÂaÂnisÂtic EnlightÂenÂment conÂsenÂsus about the world — and aesÂthetÂiÂcalÂly. The WanÂderÂer (furÂther anaÂlyzed in the NerdÂwriter video just below) presents a WeltanÂschauÂung in which “landÂscape was a repÂreÂsenÂtaÂtion of a divine world order, and man was an indiÂvidÂual who watchÂes, conÂtemÂplates, and feels much more than he calÂcuÂlates and thinks.” To achieve his desired effect, Friedrich assemÂbles an imagÂined vista out of varÂiÂous eleÂments seen around DresÂden, preÂsentÂing it in a manÂner that comÂbines charÂacÂterÂisÂtics of both landÂscapes and porÂtraits to “creÂate a powÂerÂful sense of space” while directÂing our attenÂtion to the lone unidenÂtiÂfied figÂure right in the cenÂter.
The “curiÂous comÂbiÂnaÂtion of loneÂliÂness and empowÂerÂment” that results is key to underÂstandÂing not just the priÂorÂiÂties of the RomanÂtics, but the very nature of the aesÂthetÂic subÂlime they revÂerÂentÂly expressed. To be subÂlime is not just to be beauÂtiÂful or pleaÂsurÂable, but also to exude a kind of intimÂiÂdatÂing, even fearÂsome vastÂness; how it feels to enter the presÂence of the subÂlime can nevÂer be fulÂly repliÂcatÂed, let alone explained, but as Friedrich demonÂstrates, it can effecÂtiveÂly be evoked. Hence, as Payne points out, the tenÂdenÂcy of curÂrent media like movie posters to crib from the WanÂderÂer, in serÂvice of the likes of Dunkirk, OblivÂion, Into DarkÂness, and After Earth. DeterÂminÂing whether those picÂtures live up to the ambiÂtions eviÂdent in Friedrich’s artisÂtic legaÂcy is an exerÂcise left to the readÂer.
RelatÂed conÂtent:
An IntroÂducÂtion to the PaintÂing of CasÂpar David Friedrich, RomanÂtiÂcism & the SubÂlime
The OthÂerÂworldÂly Art of William Blake: An IntroÂducÂtion to the VisionÂary Poet and Painter
How the Avant-Garde Art of GusÂtav Klimt Got PerÂverseÂly ApproÂpriÂatÂed by the Nazis
BriÂan Eno on CreÂatÂing Music and Art As ImagÂiÂnary LandÂscapes (1989)
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂter Books on Cities, the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles and the video series The City in CinÂeÂma. FolÂlow him on TwitÂter at @colinmarshall or on FaceÂbook.
