A Side Canyon, Grand Canyon of Arizona 1915

Thomas Moran painted this view of the Grand Canyon, probably sometime in the late 19th century, with oil on what looks like a small canvas or board. He's layering browns and oranges, capturing a sense of depth. You can imagine him responding to the canyon, letting the painting evolve as a kind of conversation between himself and this huge, geological wonder. There's this tiny glimpse of bright blue sky at the very top of the composition, framed by the red rocks. It draws the eye upwards. The light is so warm and inviting, contrasted with the cool darkness in the foreground. Looking closely, you can see how he uses these small, textured strokes, almost like he's building up the rock face, bit by bit. It gives the painting a tactile quality; you can almost feel the rough surface of the canyon. Moran reminds me a little of Frederick Church, another painter who was obsessed with these monumental landscapes. Both artists capture a similar sense of awe and reverence for the natural world, but in their own distinct ways. Art's just this big, ongoing chat, isn't it?