In the Museum of Fine Arts in Budapest, the picturesque work of the post-impressionist Paul Gauguin “The Garden in the Snow” is kept. The artist wrote it in 1879 during the period of elaborating an individual pictorial style.
“The Garden in the Snow” is a subtle lyrical work in its essence. The canvas was decided in a single pastel scale. There are no sharp contrasting constructions, excessively bright color blocks.
The landscape turned out to be soft, despite the fact that it conveys an atmosphere of bad weather, cold and piercing wind.
The movements of the artist’s brush accurately convey the dynamics and gusts of the wind. The landscape is as if revived reality, which is felt openly, clearly, declaring itself as a reality existing here and now. So visibly, clearly and emotionally truthfully the artist embodied this idea of a garden in the snow.
The landscape “The Garden in the Snow” seems to pierce its chilling sound. There is such a feeling as if you can clearly discern, looking at this landscape, the howling of the wind, interrupted by a piercing silence. It’s empty, quiet and, despite the snow around, it’s dark. The canvas awakens feelings of melancholy, abandonment, eclipsing of feelings.
The chaos of the black-and-blue branched strokes scattered randomly in the picture space gives an uneasy dynamic dynamics to the picture.
The painting is mostly different from many other works of Paul Gauguin. The landscape is rather created by the genre laws of impressionism. This is confirmed by the absence of bright color contrasts, composite multidimensionality, contour lines and general smoothening of the colorful smear. On the contrary, the image turned out to be gentle, unobtrusive, though enveloping the cold and the uncomfortable smell of snow.
The most important thing is that the landscape is perceived as the reality itself, albeit not embellished with brisk shimmering shades and experimental methods of compositional construction. Nevertheless, this is part of the world around us. This landscape, despite all its dissimilarity, sounds on par with the rest of the author’s works, introducing his own nerve into this single visual series, a somewhat different beating of life.
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