DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0249
CONVERSATION WITH A PAINTER.
233
modem in its feeling, it is common-place in comparison!
Think only of the Untersberg, with old Barbarossa asleep
in his enchantment beneath it, with his beard grown
through the stone table upon which he leans ! Think of
the whole region around Salzburg; it is brimful of legends
and beauty !”
Had you only heard the painter’s words of enthusiasm,
and seen his countenance flush with earnest love of these
mountains, you would have felt, as I at the moment felt,
ready to start that instant for the mountains.
Yes, at the bottom of my soul I have a pang of “ Heim-
weh ” whenever I look towards the Alpine chain. The
few glimpses I have had of its beauty are always haunting
my imagination.
I wish E-would paint, some day, a little picture, called
“ In the Tyrol.” It should be a picture of flowers. It should
represent a small portion of grey-rock, covered with mosses
and lichens of every tint; and flowers should droop over the
rock and spring out of its crevices; flowers like the
brightest gems, crimson mountain-pinks, deep azure gen-
tians and flowers like stars of gold, and delicate, feathery
grasses, and luxuriant leaves of ladies’-mantle sparkling
with dew-drops ■ and beyond, as background, should be a
pearly evening sky, streaked with rose and orange, and
Alpine peaks of deepest violet, dreamy and sublime in the
glow of sunset. If E—-—, with his exquisite love of flowers
and weeds, should not be inspired to paint such a picture,
I myself feel so, and must attempt it some day, setting off
to the mountains and bathing my spirit in their beauty and
j°y-
Kaulbach is at work this spring upon his designs for the
New Pinakothek, a series of frescoes illustrative of the
history of modern German art: the building of the
New Pinakothek being destined for the repository of works
233
modem in its feeling, it is common-place in comparison!
Think only of the Untersberg, with old Barbarossa asleep
in his enchantment beneath it, with his beard grown
through the stone table upon which he leans ! Think of
the whole region around Salzburg; it is brimful of legends
and beauty !”
Had you only heard the painter’s words of enthusiasm,
and seen his countenance flush with earnest love of these
mountains, you would have felt, as I at the moment felt,
ready to start that instant for the mountains.
Yes, at the bottom of my soul I have a pang of “ Heim-
weh ” whenever I look towards the Alpine chain. The
few glimpses I have had of its beauty are always haunting
my imagination.
I wish E-would paint, some day, a little picture, called
“ In the Tyrol.” It should be a picture of flowers. It should
represent a small portion of grey-rock, covered with mosses
and lichens of every tint; and flowers should droop over the
rock and spring out of its crevices; flowers like the
brightest gems, crimson mountain-pinks, deep azure gen-
tians and flowers like stars of gold, and delicate, feathery
grasses, and luxuriant leaves of ladies’-mantle sparkling
with dew-drops ■ and beyond, as background, should be a
pearly evening sky, streaked with rose and orange, and
Alpine peaks of deepest violet, dreamy and sublime in the
glow of sunset. If E—-—, with his exquisite love of flowers
and weeds, should not be inspired to paint such a picture,
I myself feel so, and must attempt it some day, setting off
to the mountains and bathing my spirit in their beauty and
j°y-
Kaulbach is at work this spring upon his designs for the
New Pinakothek, a series of frescoes illustrative of the
history of modern German art: the building of the
New Pinakothek being destined for the repository of works