ABSTRACT
We frequently encounter ruins in the paintings of Caspar David Friedrich: fragments of a Gothic past; ciphers of an eternal religion at rest within an ephemeral body; architectural repositories of centuries and lives and belief [10–1]. 1 Something forlorn haunts these remnants of prior eras standing adrift in a forest or isolated on a mountainside. The arches and columns of brick and stone serve as reminders, vehicles for thought, stimulants for meditations on the transitory aspects of life. Here, terminated, are the remains of buildings once intended to far outlast the short span of human existence. But they did not. Caspar David Friedrich, Abtei Im Eichwald (Eichenwald Abbey), 1809–1810.
Oil on Canvas.
[AKG-Images; Galerie Der Romantik, Berlin]
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