Morgen auf Bergeshöhe 1893

Editor: We're looking at Edward Theodore Compton’s "Morgen auf Bergeshöhe," painted in 1893 using oil paints, I believe *en plein air*. There’s something so still about it; a cold silence seems to emanate from the snow. What stands out to you when you look at this piece? Curator: It whispers tales, doesn't it? Makes me think of solitary hikes and the crunch of snow underfoot – ah, memories. But beyond that personal pang, Compton's painting is like a love letter to light itself. The way it kisses the peaks... Makes you want to paint, doesn't it? I wonder, what does it say about nature? Man in contrast is pretty minimal in Compton's vision... Editor: Well, there are those birds… Perhaps to suggest our place, or scale, within a majestic landscape? Curator: Ooh, you picked up on them! Absolutely! Almost like ink blots dancing across the heavens, they subtly highlight our belonging, and fleeting nature amidst immensity and endurance of stone, sky and snow, of course. Is this his perspective, though, or ours looking at it over a hundred years later? I'm reminded a bit of Caspar David Friedrich here. A touch melancholic perhaps. What about that palette? Editor: It feels quite subdued; there isn't much high chroma; desaturated maybe. It evokes this incredible calmness – but then there is a quiet drama from the jagged rocks below the snow-pack, it really invites the eyes to explore different spaces within the painting. Curator: Exactly! The devil’s in the details – as they say – those rugged peaks, hinting at something untamed, contrasted with this stillness, like a Zen koan – inviting us to ponder our relationship with nature, time, change and perspective. A mountain-sized metaphor! So much captured on canvas. Editor: I agree; the calmness juxtaposed with rugged nature makes it much more powerful than just being a visual representation of a landscape. Curator: Wonderful! So now what’s your next hike? You can find great examples to be seen right here!