Farmhouses by Gabriel Munter

Gabriel Munter, c.1935, oil on canvas, San Diego Museum of Art

My first reaction to Farmhouses is a feeling of quietude, stillness, and warmth—the warm colors, the rhythm of undulating mountains—all create a feeling of peace within. Yellow predominates the painting, conveying a spirituality in ones inner world.

While on a road trip through Bavaria, Germany in the fall of 2003, I spotted a road sign that read “Murnau.” It jolted my memory, reminding me that the German Expressionist painter Gabriele Münter had lived there. My friend and I took a back road to the town and found her house, which is now a museum. I was elated! Unfortunately, the museum was closed, but I was still thrilled to be standing in the region she loved so much. I also feel fortunate that one of her paintings, Farmhouses, is in a collection in my own backyard, the San Diego Museum of Art.

Born in Berlin in 1877, Münter was a lifelong artist who focused on painting, printmaking, and photography. In her twenties, she was unable to attend official art academies in Germany because women were excluded from these schools, but that did not impede her creative endeavors. Münter pursued alternative directions for her training, embracing more radical shifts in the art world. She drew inspiration from pure shapes, bright palettes, and flat planes of color. Her goal was to capture on canvas fleeting moments of life; her artwork is a collection of visual experiences interpreted through vivid hues and bold outlines.

Both a student and a pioneer of Expressionism, the movement that seeks to convey an emotional experience or response through the arts, Münter was at the forefront of the avant-garde in Germany during the early 1900s. Drawn to landscapes, she used color and simplicity to communicate a variety of moods and feelings.

When you reflect upon Farmhouses, what feelings arise? Does this artwork take you to a particular place or time? In what ways do you resonate with the colors and shapes?

It is safe to say that through her art, Münter searched for higher meaning. She believed in a level of abstraction in art, creating fields of color and curved lines, outlining the shapes in black. The result is poetic.

She played a large part in advancing and preserving the Expressionist movement. As a founding member of Der Blaue Reiter (The Blue Rider), a group of artists who rejected strict traditionalism in favor of art as a means to express spiritual truths, Münter evolved from painting what she saw to manifesting what she felt. Later in her career, during World War II, she hid works made by her and other Expressionist artists in her home, protecting them against Nazi raids. In 1957, at the age of 80, she gave her entire art collection to a museum in Munich.

Farmhouses and other works by Münter utilize colors and shapes to convey spirituality in art and reflect the richness of our inner worlds. They remind us that there’s more to life than what meets the eye, and each of us can experience the physical world through our feelings, impressions, and intuition as we seek our own spiritual truths.

Snap the Whip by Winslow Homer

Winslow Homer, 1872, Oil on Canvas, Butler Institute of American Art, Youngstown

Winslow Homer, one of the most renown 19th-century American artists, painted Snap the Whip, one of his most beloved paintings, only a few years after the United States’ horrific Civil War.

In this painting nine young boys are playing the popular kids’ game, Snap the Whip, in front of a small, red schoolhouse. Their clothes—the caps, suspenders, knickers—reflect late 1800s American attire. Their bare feet exude childhood freedom. They are pulling and tugging one another with fun, free abandonment. Their faces are illuminated by the soft light peeking through the clouds. They are the focal point of the entire composition. The landscape, including the mountains, trees, and flowers, are tangible. The painting speaks of pure innocence and simplicity.

Growing up in the 1950s and 60s, though a century later, I remember playing kickball, hide-and-go-seek, and tag in the cul-de-sac where I lived as a very young child. I remember roaming through acres of trees and streams playing Tarzan with my brother. I spent hours crawling through culverts, never wondering what small varmint could be crawling around in there. I could ride my bike all day with friends, knowing I just needed to be home for dinner. I felt no fear. My parents felt free to give my brothers and me free rein to explore and play.

Today, schools are surrounded by gates. Security systems have been placed in many schools nationwide. Children cannot go on a bike ride without their parents knowing exactly where they are at every moment. A child must be accompanied by an adult when trick-or-treating. A child no longer has freedom to simply “be” a child.

I’m hopeful that this won’t forever be the norm, that the current climate of fear and apprehension gives way to an air of optimism and freedom, a chance to let our children experience the world around them on their terms. Yes, safety is important, but there’s a thin line between protecting our kids and holding them back. When we collectively learn to respect others, and especially to protect children, treating every child as if we adults are responsible for their well-being (which I believe we are), perhaps the world will become a safe place for youngsters to explore and discover.

Children embody innocence and the promise of our planet’s future. In portraying rural simplicity and the joy that kids often find so readily when playing together, Homer reflected on the peaceful, carefree moments of childhood, even in the midst of challenges that surfaced in a complex post-Civil War world.