We started the week with landscapes in the State of Washington. From there we went South to the Columbia River, then further East to Harney County. Now it’s straight South, all the way to a place where rain is rarely seen – what a concept. California is our destination, and leave it to the internet to cough up information on some obscure painters that were in love with Western National Parks, Death Valley – my choice today –  included. One was a Swede, the other of Swedish descent, both quite adept watercolorists, both drawn to the dry sunny places that mediate the intensity of depression. (Well, the latter is speculation, no clue if they were depressed, but I surely could use some sun to counteract the dark clouds.)

The links below refer to Gunnar Widforss (1879-1934) whose post-humous exhibits found high acclaim. A realist painter, he spent his life alone, in relative poverty, pursuing nature. I actually think he was a terrific painter and am surprised I had never heard of him before.

GUNNAR WIDFORSS—PAINTER OF THE NATIONAL PARKS

https://www.californiawatercolor.com/pages/gunnar-widforss-biography

The other painter is Fernand Lungren (1857-1932) an Eakins student and favorite of Theodore Roosevelt. His landscapes were more impressionistic, capturing much of the intense light of and colors of Death Valley and other natural wonders down South.

 http://www.tfaoi.com/aa/2aa/2aa439.htm

Last but not least, in addition to some of the photographs above and below that depict what I saw some 100 years later compared to these guys, here is a partial list of movies that were filmed among the mountainous folds and the salty flatlands.

Starwars!!

https://www.nps.gov/deva/learn/historyculture/death-valley-in-movies-and-television.htm

Binge watching NOT recommended.

The colors in my photographs are true to what is, not over-exposed – the blues and reds, yellows and purples are just as intense as you see them.

Just as the hills of Eastern Oregon always remind me of sea lions, here I am transported to a more ancient time of mammoths or some such. Or the original elephants…..who also seemed to populate the hallways of the single motel within the park, insanely overpriced and under serviced, the one disappointment during an otherwise perfect excursion.

Sometimes the painters are more interesting than their paintings. Take George Gibbs, for example, who was an ethnographer, mapmaker, geologist, historian, attorney, and, for nearly twelve years, an explorer, artist, and administrator in the Pacific Northwest. 8 careers! And here I thought I was versatile. We certainly share an interest in Mr. Audubon, the naturalist and bird lover, who he got to meet in person as a youngster, an encounter that shaped his life’s trajectory.

See more at: https://www.williamreesecompany.com/pages/books/WRCAM37235/george-gibbs/pastel-painting-of-a-scene-in-the-pacific-northwest-probably-the-columbia-river-with-indians#sthash.kLSM9vyC.dpuf

Gibbs painted the Columbia river, my choice of subject for today’s photographs. So did John Fery, another European non-conformist who ended up in the Northwest. First he was a hunting guide for millionaires’ expeditions and hunting parties. Later he somehow became a steady deliverer of paintings commissioned by the Pacific Railroad company, I believe 350 or or so. You wonder what it does to your growth and development as an artist if you paint for the man, one pretty landscape after another….

Later in life he settled on Orcas Island where a fire destroyed his studio and most of his accumulated work – he died a few years later.

My photographs are from the Gorge, collected over the years, as well as further downstream where the river winds itself towards the ocean feeding a lot of industry.

It is a marvel at any season and any time of day.

Last week I took a ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island with the plan to visit Bloedel Gardens.

When we arrived at the harbor I asked a fellow traveler for information about busses; she immediately offered me a ride since she had to go in that direction and I naively said yes. Her Volvo had seen better days, not a day under 40 years old, seatbelt not working, leather seats cracked, only one door opened. It felt too late to chicken out, and I was somehow drawn into tales of her mother traveling with 5 kids and a steamer trunk to Switzerland to do post-doctoral studies on Jung. That and the fact that my friendly chauffeuse had not slept in two nights. Hm.

I obviously lived to tell the story. The gardens, a huge expanse of wood- and meadow lands, water features, beautiful views of Puget Sound, were soothing. It rained softly, and I was most impressed by a moss landscape that seemed to have luminescence built in. More than 40 species of moss covering forest floors.

The whole place was empty except for a group of British landscape designers who got a tour by the head gardener, (one of 12 full-time employed gardeners year round.) Somehow these guys managed to pop up whenever I took the camera out of the shelter of my raincoat and make it into the picture. Well, often, not always.

Trees were planted in groves (the Himalayan Birches) carefully pruned in the Japanese garden (Pine tree) or left wild around ponds (the Alders.)

I took the bus on the way back, as sole passenger, and was told that another person needed to be picked up at her house with a little detour. Apparently you can order public busses, just like cabs, with a 2 hour advance notice. The woman inquired about my plans, did I already have lunch? When I replied that I was lusting for some fish and chips, she told the bus driver where to go and here I was dropped off at an Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day. I leave the rest to your imagination.

By the time I reached my hotel, a 30 minute walk from the ferry terminal after crossing the Sound I was sopping wet and coming down with a migraine. Soon my brain contained as much drama as the Bierstadt painting of Puget Sound, below.

But the gardens were worth it.

For detailed (and astute) discussion of Northwest Landscape painting, go here:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2001/03/battleground-of-the-eye/302146/