DOI Heft:
No. 225 (December 1911)
DOI Artikel:Gauffin, Axel: The landscape paintings of Prince Eugen of Sweden
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21155#0199
Prince Eugen of Sweden
work of man, in the landscapes painted by the
prince-artist. This does not mean that we see no
buildings there, for the very first page shows us
Stockholm Palace, Nicodemus Tessin's incom-
parable creation, asleep on a northern summer
night. But in its gigantic proportions it rears itself
aloft on its island, not as a home of mortals, but
like the titanic dwelling of some supernatural being
akin to those inhabiting the clefts and thickets of
the forest. And The Old Castle, that intensively felt
painting of Sundbyholm, speaks, with its moulder-
ing, falling plaster and its shuttered windows,
of nothing but oblivion and decay. Reverence
for the memorials of ancient culture finds expres-
sion in the loving care with which the brush
reproduces the wrinkles and the stains in the
weather-beaten walls. But, in the artist's eyes,
these walls do not stand for independent scenery,
placed in the landscape for the occasion. They
have grown there, together with that landscape, in
a higher unity.
We turn over another page in "Swedish Land-
scape " and come to The Cloud. Once again it is
the spirit of seriousness that strikes us. Still at
the same time there rises a quiet, charmed delight
from that soft, grass-grown slope, the full sated
verdure of the trees, and the white cloud resting
against the deep blue of the air, that fills the
sense with a feeling of devotion and peace.
In the next picture we meet a darker mood. It
is a northern Summer Night that casts its veil over
bay and rocky islet. The idyllic yet austere
sterility of the skerries acquires a touch of great-
ness, and the rugged rock softens beneath the
tender, redeeming shadow of the night. How far
is not the artist here from that realism of the
eighties in whose atmosphere he was educated ? It
is a whole world of northern faery that arises from
amidst these transparent shadows. The artist peers
through the half-light and reads, word by word, the
dim, mysterious story. It is the island of Tyreso in
the archipelago of Stockholm, where for a number
of years in succession Prince Eugen spent his
summers, that has been the birthplace of the
greater number of these dark nocturnes. The
somewhat confined character of the country in that
177-
work of man, in the landscapes painted by the
prince-artist. This does not mean that we see no
buildings there, for the very first page shows us
Stockholm Palace, Nicodemus Tessin's incom-
parable creation, asleep on a northern summer
night. But in its gigantic proportions it rears itself
aloft on its island, not as a home of mortals, but
like the titanic dwelling of some supernatural being
akin to those inhabiting the clefts and thickets of
the forest. And The Old Castle, that intensively felt
painting of Sundbyholm, speaks, with its moulder-
ing, falling plaster and its shuttered windows,
of nothing but oblivion and decay. Reverence
for the memorials of ancient culture finds expres-
sion in the loving care with which the brush
reproduces the wrinkles and the stains in the
weather-beaten walls. But, in the artist's eyes,
these walls do not stand for independent scenery,
placed in the landscape for the occasion. They
have grown there, together with that landscape, in
a higher unity.
We turn over another page in "Swedish Land-
scape " and come to The Cloud. Once again it is
the spirit of seriousness that strikes us. Still at
the same time there rises a quiet, charmed delight
from that soft, grass-grown slope, the full sated
verdure of the trees, and the white cloud resting
against the deep blue of the air, that fills the
sense with a feeling of devotion and peace.
In the next picture we meet a darker mood. It
is a northern Summer Night that casts its veil over
bay and rocky islet. The idyllic yet austere
sterility of the skerries acquires a touch of great-
ness, and the rugged rock softens beneath the
tender, redeeming shadow of the night. How far
is not the artist here from that realism of the
eighties in whose atmosphere he was educated ? It
is a whole world of northern faery that arises from
amidst these transparent shadows. The artist peers
through the half-light and reads, word by word, the
dim, mysterious story. It is the island of Tyreso in
the archipelago of Stockholm, where for a number
of years in succession Prince Eugen spent his
summers, that has been the birthplace of the
greater number of these dark nocturnes. The
somewhat confined character of the country in that
177-