ABSTRACT
IN THE LATE AUTUMN of 1990, the Art Institute of Chicago opened a small exhibition called The Romantic Vision of Caspar David Friedrich. It was an unusual show. The light was so low that when you first stepped in, it was hard to be sure how many people were in the room. A half-dozen paintings were hung at wide intervals, each carefully picked out by a hidden spotlight. The curators had fitted an audio system, which was playing Schubert impromptus. The music rose and fell, sometimes loud, other times nearly inaudible. The rooms were dreamy and hypnotic. When people stood close to the pictures, a glow spread around them like the corona of an eclipse.