Seán M. Williams

Observing nature observed: the art of Caspar David Friedrich

Friedrich’s scenes may appear to depict nature unbound, but they are also famous for their Rückenfiguren in the foreground, the men and women with their backs to us, facing what we also see

‘Moonrise over the Sea’, by Caspar David Friedrich, 1821. [© BPK/NationalGalerie SMB/Jörg P. Anders] 
issue 14 September 2024

Imagine wandering through Germany. You might picture blustery Baltic seascapes, seen from island retreats such as Rügen. Or you might be hiking in the central Harz mountains, peering down at clouds that drift into green pastures and blend into brownish rock. Perhaps you’re standing at the country’s eastern edge, gazing at moonlight that gleams through gaps in the forests and ravines of sandstone highlands.

What we sketch in our minds probably follows the contours of the canvases of Caspar David Friedrich, Germany’s Romantic artist-in-chief. And these stock images have been reproduced in many a tourist guide. They’re now on display again, in full colour and new frames – literally and figuratively – to mark 250 years since Friedrich came into the world. We’re well into the drawn-out celebrations: the last of the year’s three major exhibitions, in Dresden, is underway and runs until January. Art for a New Age, meanwhile, is the print catalogue that memorialises the opening Hamburg show.

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in