From Romantic Landscapes to Dutch Naturalism

Retracing the History of Landscapes at the National Gallery in London

Sep 08, 2024

(Winter Landscape, Caspar David Friedrich, 1811)

Recently, I conducted my first official museum tour at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, London. I have spent a significant amount of time at this gallery, having made my first visit almost a decade ago when I was 13. This might have been my 8th or 9th time at the gallery.

We were a group of six, and the tour took about two hours to complete. We began our tour in room 45, also known as the Romanticism room; it’s by one of the entrances, where the glorious masterpiece The Execution of Lady Jane Grey hangs dominantly. We didn’t come for that painting.

This tour was strictly limited to studying one genre of painting: landscapes. We were to start from the highest point in the history of landscapes with Caspar David Friedrich, and then we went backwards in time to see the various approaches to landscapes throughout art history.

There is only one Caspar David Friedrich painting in the museum’s inventory: “Winter Landscape.” It is hung alongside the sole Johan Christian Dahl painting in the collection: “The Lower Falls of the Labrofoss”. Dahl was Friedrich’s most influential student.

(The Lower Falls of the Labrofoss, Johan Christian Dahl, 1827)

The two paintings are good examples of romantic landscape painting, where the genre has evolved from being trivial and decorative to becoming a dominant and influential art form addressing universal issues.

As we delve into Caspar David Friedrich’s painting, ‘Winter Landscape,’ we observe a compelling illustration of Romanticism's focus on the metaphysical. The solitary figure, praying before a cross in the snow, reflects humanity’s fragility, and the quest for redemption. The faint cathedral in the distance is not merely a background; it signifies a distant hope for the afterlife, a celestial realm that humans long for during moments of despair.

Beside Friedrich’s masterpiece hangs Johan Christian Dahl’s ‘The Lower Falls of the Labrofoss.’ Dahl was Friedrich’s most influential student, yet his approach takes a subtle but meaningful shift. Here, the overwhelming power of nature takes centre stage as a breached dam sends logs scattering, symbolising nature’s dominance over human efforts. Unlike Friedrich, who invites us to contemplate man’s relationship with God, Dahl portrays nature’s force as indifferent to man’s struggles—a secular take on the same Romantic themes of man’s place in the universe.

From this point onwards, landscapes will move away from discussing abstract philosophical notions and towards more mundane and conventional themes.

(The Four Times of Day, Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot, 1858)

In the same room, we had a series of four paintings, "The Four Times of Day" by the Barbizon School painter Camille Corot. These paintings present a contrasting approach to that of the Romantic Friedrich and Dahl. Instead of conveying metaphysical notions about man’s relationship to reality, Corot's work depicts mundane, everyday life without an elevation of the subject to address more abstract issues, as we’ve seen with Dahl and Friedrich.

Corot's painting portrays four different times of the day in the French countryside. It would be a mistake to interpret Friedrich's painting only as a representation of a man in the snow. However, it would not be wrong to see Corot's paintings as simply representations of what he saw in front of him. Corot was not engaging in abstract philosophical discussions; rather, he was celebrating natural beauty. In that sense, despite being a later artist, Corot's art represents a return to what landscapes used to be like in previous centuries, as opposed to what they were in the genre's peak during the 19th century, with the likes of Dahl and Friedrich.

I can provide further details in this essay if you want to learn more about the Barbizon School.

(Mr and Mrs Andrews, Thomas Gainsborough, 1750)

Now, let's travel back to the 18th century. In room 35, we come across Thomas Gainsborough’s “Mr and Mrs Andrews.” You might wonder why we are discussing a portrait in a tour about landscapes. Take a closer look.

As one of the participants noted, “Mr and Mrs Andrews” seem like minor characters. Upon closer inspection, it seems that Gainsborough's true passion lies in the landscape part of the picture rather than the portrait itself. Indeed, he deeply admired the Suffolk countryside where he grew up. Gainsborough made a living from portraits; he lived for the landscapes.

(The Cornfield, John Constable, 1826)

We then visited room 34, which is my personal favourite. It showcases the best examples of British landscapes, featuring iconic paintings such as J. M. W. Turner's "The Fighting Temeraire" and John Constable’s "The Haywain," which are well-known British national symbols. "The Fighting Temeraire" is even featured on the twenty-pound note.

"The Cornfield" exemplifies how Gainsborough’s landscape paintings influenced later artists like Constable, who also hailed from Suffolk. I see this painting as a nostalgic tribute to Constable's own childhood. Similar to Friedrich’s earlier work, Constable transformed literal landscapes to express his nostalgia. Landscapes serve as a canvas for the artist’s emotions and perspective.

Look at this young lad, with his innocent and carefree disposition, as he explores the open fields and quenches his thirst from the crystal-clear water ponds. His boundless youthful vigour infuses this seemingly mundane portrayal of the English countryside with a palpable sense of vitality and charm.

(An Extensive Landscape with a Road by a River, Philips Koninck, 1664)

In room 19, we compared old landscapes and romantic landscapes. One painting was by the Dutch painter Philips Koninck and depicted a lovely yet dull landscape. While Koninck's work is a masterful depiction of the landscape, it is a naturalistic portrayal of what "is", unlike Caspar David Friedrich’s painting, which portrays what "ought" to be. It’s not that all of these old Dutch landscapes are boring, quite the contrary.

(River Landscape with Horseman and Peasants, Albert Cuyp, 1660)

Please take a moment to focus on this outstanding example of a landscape from the Dutch Golden Age.

A lot is happening in the scene—a group of cows are resting by the river with a horseman and some peasants nearby. In the distance, a charming town and dramatic mountains come into view. The composition skilfully creates a horizontal line stretching from the sun on the top left side, to the clouds in the centre and the trees on the right. Another line can be traced from the edge of the farthest mountain to the closer one, and then again to the trees and the clouds.

The emphasis is clearly on the right side with the sheep, cows, horses, and peasants, making it easy to miss the hunter on the left side, concealed by a bush and ready to shoot one of the ducks in the lake.

It’s a vibrant and dramatic scene, even more so than the other paintings we’ve seen so far, except for those of the Romantics. While Koninck presents a serene, almost subdued view of nature as it is, Cuyp takes a more dynamic approach, imbuing his natural landscape with a sense of movement and drama. Though his painting is rooted in naturalism, it echoes the dramatic flair of the Romantics, challenging the notion that older landscapes lack energy or complexity.

The vibrant interplay between the cows' stillness and the concealed hunter's impending action builds a quiet tension, subtly drawing the viewer’s attention to the drama of everyday life. It’s a different kind of engagement than what we saw with Friedrich’s metaphysical plea, but Cuyp’s mastery of narrative within the landscape makes the scene equally absorbing.

I had a great experience connecting with older landscapes, especially when discussing them with others. Interacting with people about works like Cuyp’s “River Landscape” helped me appreciate the depth and vibrancy in pieces I might have previously dismissed. It reminded me that each artistic period offers a unique viewpoint on the world that can be unexpectedly appreciated. Just as I found new meaning in older landscapes, you might discover unexpected value in works that don’t immediately resonate with you. I’m looking forward to uncovering more insights on upcoming tours.

I recommend bringing friends or engaging with other visitors when visiting a museum. The discussions that arise can reveal new perspectives and help you notice aspects of art that you might otherwise overlook. Exploring new territory is always worthwhile, especially when it lies outside your usual aesthetic comfort zone. Just be sure it’s proper art—if you’re curious about what that means, check out the first essay under ‘Further Readings’.

Thanks to the National Gallery’s extensive collection of landscapes from various periods, we were able to take a focused tour of landscapes. There is so much more to explore there, which simply cannot be covered in a single visit. I suggest visiting the National Gallery at least twice when you’re in London, ideally more than that.

I hope you can join me for future tours. I learnt a lot from this experience and am excited to repeat it many more times. I will be sure to post about any new tours here.

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