View of Mt. Lafayette, New Hampshire 1867

Curator: Wow, this scene... it's so serene, isn't it? Like a dream you almost remember. Editor: This is David Johnson's "View of Mt. Lafayette, New Hampshire," painted in 1867. Johnson, deeply rooted in the Hudson River School, often captured these calm, majestic American landscapes. Curator: The Hudson River School, right. It feels like Manifest Destiny made visual, doesn't it? But rendered so gently. I keep getting pulled towards the sky, the soft blend of blues feels infinite, untouchable. Then my eyes fall to the mirrored lake nestled into the hillsides. Editor: Johnson’s commitment to "truth to nature," places him at the fore of American Tonalism; the hazy atmosphere suggests the importance of observation in situ and makes manifest a broader, even spiritual connection, between nature and man in post-Civil War America. You notice he worked en plein air, right? Curator: Totally! I love to imagine him lugging his easel out here! Those greens and browns are all soft and inviting, nothing jarring about the palette. This is way more meditative and mellow. Does it lack some of the dramatic flourish we see with other painters working within this art movement at the time? Editor: Some would say so. I mean, the absence of the overtly sublime— the violent storm or towering, snow-capped peak, for example— does mean he favors a quieter, more intimate connection with nature. It's an invitation to slow down and observe. I find a quiet grandeur about Johnson's technique here; each tree, each rock precisely rendered; an absolute feat for painting outdoors. Curator: I can see that... It really makes you reflect. No forced drama, just the peaceful hug of nature. So beautiful it's almost melancholy, don’t you think? Like we’ve lost this kind of quiet. Editor: Perhaps Johnson intended it as a space for reflection even in his time, to draw the gaze away from burgeoning modernity toward the enduring calm of nature. Curator: Definitely gave me a moment. Makes me want to grab my paints and head for the hills... to try and feel the quiet he felt. Editor: Precisely. Johnson reminds us that seeing, truly seeing, is an art.