The sheer size of Albert Bierstadt’s Bernese Alps painting catches my attention.  For some reason I am drawn to the vast expanse in front of me.  Initially, I do not know the name of the painting, so I do not know which mountain range shields the horizon or even the location of the lake that sits chiseled into one of its valleys.  I instinctively disregard this at the time, because my mind is too busy trying to follow my eyes as they dart around the canvas.  I believe that this is exactly the reaction that Bierstadt intends for his audience to have.  I think that his portrait is more of a billboard for the limitlessness of nature than it is an advertisement for the Swiss Alps (which I would soon discover to be the setting of the painting).  Bierstadt wants the person looking at his painting to take a step back from their life and see how small we are compared to our surroundings in nature.

                  It is difficult to find just one focal point in the Bernese Alps painting, because there are so many different objects to look at.  After a period of eager searching, my eyes finally come to rest on an enormous tree, which lies just to the right of the center of the canvas.  The tree is so sharp and vivid that it is hard to believe that it is not alive, soaking in the crisp mountain air.  The sun, positioned directly behind the tree, projects its light predominately on the tree’s uppermost branches, causing a shadow to fall on all that lies below it. I should mention that there are other trees in the painting, but none so distinct in their appearance.  Maybe this central tree, so full of vigor, symbolizes the tree of life, from which all existence springs.  On the other hand, it could just be an ordinary tree, simply representing the authenticity of nature.  Regardless of the tree’s symbolic meaning (or lack thereof), it is almost certain that Bierstadt wants you to somehow feel like you are both close to the tree, yet panned out, all at the same time.  The detail ascribed to the tree makes a viewer feel as if it is hardly out of his or her reach, while the depth behind it makes that same viewer feel miles away.

Next, I focus on a small herd of cattle, grazing on a grassy, sloping knoll just below the tree.  While the cows are certainly realistic, they seem to lack the overflow of life that possesses the tree.  This is, of course, understandable, as cows are not the most energetic of animals.  They wander about, without a single care in the world.  Their home, a rolling expanse, is masked in shadow of the aforementioned tree and looks as peaceful as the crystal lake it descends into.  Bierstadt’s use of the blue water provides a stark contrast to the various shades of green that mark the hillside.  The lake is calm, as only a few ripples prevent it from looking like a sheet of blue-tinted glass.  This greatly contributes to the overall peaceful feeling of the valley.  It is as if Bierstadt wants to show his viewers that at this particular location, all the toils of the world can be forgotten.

Moving my gaze back up the hill, to the right of the tree, I now focus on a nameless man who sits on a small wooden gate, facing away from the cattle.  Not much can be seen of this man, but I imagine he has just ushered the herd into a new pasture and is now resting alone with his thoughts.  He stares in the direction of his home, a modest cabin tucked in the corner of the canvas, but it appears as though he looks past it, towards the mountains.  Perhaps he has become bored with his task of tending his cattle, and he looks to the mountains for a source of freedom.

                  I decide to follow the herder’s gaze, and as I do, it is impossible to overlook the transition from the dark, slightly dreary hillside to the bright, powerful mountain range that conceals the sky.  I do not think that Bierstadt’s portrayal of the blue-grey horizon is meant to be intimidating, but instead I think that the mountains are supposed to represent the world beyond this peaceful scene.  While the Alps could represent a fortress, protecting the man’s cattle and home, they are not shown as a threatening obstacle.  In fact, they almost seem inviting.  I find the mountains to be a portal, virtually serving as a passageway to the world beyond the valley.  Regardless of which stance a viewer takes on the meaning of the mountains, they are most definitely depicted as the height of nature’s power.

                  Bierstadt’s depiction of the Bernese Alps serves its purpose, as his message can be seen clearly throughout.  In the grand scheme of things, man, in his correct position, plays just a small role compared to nature.  How can one fail to notice this when Bierstadt’s painting is as large as it is flawless?  The entire area of the canvas is filled with nature’s beauty, while man appears as a mere speck next to a tree of such significance.  In this light, it is hard to gage how small man must feel compared to the Alps.  It may seem that Bierstadt finds mankind to be lost in nature.  However, in reality, I believe he is saying that we must submerse ourselves in it.

Works Consulted

Bierstadt, Albert.  Bernese Alps, 1859.