Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite

When, at the age of 29, the American painter Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902) made his first trip to the American West, he was nothing short of astounded. Part of a government surveying team led by Colonel Frederick Lander, whose task was to map an overland route to the Pacific coast, Bierstadt was in fact so overwhelmed by the majesty, beauty, and sheer grandeur of the American landscape that he got no farther west than Wyoming. There he left the team and spent the summer sketching. That trip would be only the first of many to the American West and the beginning of so many paintings that his name became synonymous with the Rocky Mountains and with the Sierra Nevada, in particular with the Yosemite Valley. Viewers, American and European alike, were captivated. The public lionized him, and they backed up their admiration in tangible ways: Bierstadt earned more from his painting than had any other American artist before him. But there was a thorn in this idyllic garden: the art critics were less than overwhelmed. Still, one, the art historian E. P. Richardson, did offer a backhanded compliment. Bierstadt, he said, is "a first-rate second-rate talent." Perhaps he is. But second-rate though his talents may be, his subjects are not. They are second to none in evoking awe. It is not a failure of talent so much as a mismatch between painter and nature: nature will not be confined to a piece of canvas, no matter how skillful the artist.

Bierstadt first visited the Yosemite Valley in 1863 and returned there in 1872. It is believed that Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite (cover) was painted between 1871 and 1873, during the latter trip. Despite the comments of the critics, the artist does get the viewer involved in more than a visual sense, in more than just admiring a pretty picture. It is not difficult, for example, to imagine the deafening roar of the water crashing on the rocks, or to feel the dampness of the mist blowing against the face. But beautiful though it is, this Edenic scene also has its dangers: the first hint is a large rock that balances precariously above the white water at midground. The slightest disturbance will dislodge it into the stream. And there are the deer, at the lower left. Peaceful and still, they are nevertheless on the alert. There could be an intruder, but whether animal or human, peaceful or predatory, we do not know. What we do know is that nothing is perfect: diamonds have flaws, happiness is alloyed with sorrow, an image is not the reality. But beauty is, and that is what the artist preserves, no matter in how imperfect a way.

Bierstadt had begun painting seriously only at age 21. Before that first, life-changing trip west with Colonel Lander, he had been in Düsseldorf and Rome for several years studying. After the Bridal Veil Falls painting, his career continued, but it was already within its downward arc. Critics complained that his scenic works had lost their peculiarly American identity and that they were formulaic. Ironically, one of Bierstadt's last works was The Last of the Buffalo. Today, like the buffalo, his work is enjoying a resurgence.