Sketches of Trees (from Sketchbook) 1890

Editor: This is "Sketches of Trees from a Sketchbook," created by Albert Bierstadt around 1890. It's a delicate pencil drawing, a departure perhaps from his more grandiose landscapes. I’m struck by its tentative nature. It feels almost ghostly. What do you see in it? Curator: Ah, Bierstadt's trees. They whisper, don’t they? Unlike his dramatic vistas, these sketches feel deeply personal. It’s as if he's not trying to impress anyone, just communing with nature, mark by gentle mark. I see the Romantic spirit, stripped down to its essence. Bierstadt seeks sublime connection beyond what he sees. Notice how the pencil barely kisses the page. Is that tentativeness, or confidence in knowing less is more? Editor: I hadn’t thought about it like that. So the 'less is more' approach speaks to Romanticism, this communion with nature? Curator: Exactly. The sketch emphasizes feeling, memory, the internal landscape conjured by these forms. We glimpse his working method, his immediate response to the trees. Think of it as him translating feeling directly into form. How do *you* respond? Do they call to mind the sketches you made at school, the memories of youth, that fresh paper feeling that brings so much expectation? Editor: Yes! They do actually…I had dismissed it as 'just' a sketch, but it really hints at something grander, more personal than his larger paintings, maybe? I get it! Curator: Precisely! Sometimes, the slightest sketch can contain the greatest of meanings, particularly when an artist can allow themselves, as humans do, to really just *be*! A landscape need not roar, sometimes it simply needs to exist on the page. Editor: I never considered the drawing to speak on equal terms as other of his landscapes; thanks for pointing this out. I'm definitely seeing Bierstadt, and pencil, in a new light.