Stories Pictures Tell. Book 6

by Flora L. Carpenter

We know how much Hobbema must have loved his work, for he received no return for it during his lifetime, unless it was the joy of work; and yet he persevered.

Can we not imagine him on a pleasant day, seated or standing at his easel in the middle of this road, quite forgetting poverty and even hunger, as he painted this beautiful landscape before him? Hobbema was certainly daring and full of courage when he attempted so severe and unusual a composition as this. He has placed his road almost exactly in the center of the picture, balancing the sides quite evenly, yet he has not made it monotonous or tiresome. The eye is constantly discovering new beauties in the landscape or the inclosing sky. Only a master could produce a work such as this.

Questions to help the pupil understand the picture. What country is represented in this picture? What kind of trees are those bordering the road? To what do they lead the eye?

Of what use could the church tower, in the distance, be? Why is the Netherlands such a level country? What can you see on each side of the road? Of what use are the canals? What is the man doing in the garden? Who else can you see in the picture? What colors did the artist use? How can you tell whether the perspective of the road is correct or not? What can you say of the sky? What can you say of the balance in the composition? the kinds of lines? What kind of a day is represented? What do some of the critics say about this picture? What is so unusual about this composition? Why do most artists avoid placing the center of interest in the middle of the picture? Why do you like this picture?

The story of the artist. We know very little about the artist, Meyndert Hobbema, except that he was a Hollander possessing so great a love for his native land that he continued to represent it on canvas in spite of the fact that his countrymen were quite indifferent to him and his work. His pictures were disposed of somehow, perhaps given away, for when a hundred years after his death the world suddenly began to value them, it was found that he had left enough canvases to have made him the wealthiest man in the country. Yet he died in the almshouse, and was buried beside his wife in a pauper’s grave. Now all the Netherlands would give him honor, but so neglected was he during his life that it is impossible to find out even where he was born. Three cities claim this honor, but it is generally conceded that he was born at Amsterdam. It is certain he was married and died there. We determine the date of his birth by the date and his age as given in the record of his marriage.

Hobbema’s paintings were so real that the people, who were used to more fanciful, idealized pictures, thought his commonplace and of no especial interest. Now they recognize the great sympathy with, and insight into, the very life of their country which Hobbema possessed in rare measure. He made it real to us, too, in his scenes of thrift and industry, prosperity, and smiling peace.

We are told that Hobbema was “a plain, practical, matter-of-fact” man and his pictures make us think he must have been. Like him, they are plain, unassuming, and natural; free from artificial grace or fancy. He did not hunt for scenes of unusual beauty with romantic or weird stories, but chose some pleasing view near at hand and painted it just as it was.

Sometimes he painted the same scene several times from exactly the same position. If all his works could be placed in one gallery for exhibition, we might find it rather monotonous to see so many just alike.

But although he did not have the inventive genius of Burne-Jones or of many other artists, his paintings were always true to nature. He has been called the painter of the afternoon sun because he seemed so fond of the sunlight showing through the trees and casting long shadows across the fields.

Many believe that Hobbema must have been a pupil of Ruysdael’s because their work was so much alike. We know that they lived in the same place at the same time and it is generally believed they were friends. Dealers often substituted the name of one for that of the other and later, when corrections were attempted, it was impossible to tell which was Hobbema’s work and which Ruysdael’s, because both had painted the same subjects.