Earnest Martins Hennings
U.S. 1886-1956
Sunlit Foothills, 1947
Oil on canvas
The Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art, University of Oklahoma
The difference between the gallery that held this painting, which was filled with similar depictions of the southwestern US, and the gallery that proceeded it was striking. The predominately European art of the main gallery seemed always to frame nature with human constructions. The southwestern landscapes of the following gallery were the reverse, dwarfing humans (often Native Americans) with their natural surroundings. This mass generalization based on a cursory gallery walk is by no means a universal trend, but it was the impression with which I approached this painting by American painter Earnest Martin Hennings.
This landscape attracted me because of its dramatic use of light. The dark, full curve of the center horse first drew my eye, and from there I was taken to the light of the center shrub, the dark mountain, and finally to the bright clearing on the top of the leftmost mountain. The canvas is divided into three distinct horizontal sections, both by use of alternating shadow and generous sunlight and by line. The bottom third lies in shadow from a source unknown to the viewer, but which would be precisely where the viewer is standing. It was dominated by parallel, calm lines, which sloped and intersected each other to create a well-worn path that passively directed the eye up. The top third was similarly ordered, with dark grey short vertical lines clearly directing down from the darkened sky.
The middle third was a chaos of color and light, shaping the hedges and sloping hills with a maze of intersecting ellipticals. Green dominated this section, only varying with proximity to the light source, so that the white skeletal branches were in sharp contrast. They, along with the splash of white that is the third horseman, pointed clearly towards the last thing my eye came to rest upon. The focal point of this painting, or at least what all paths seemed to lead to, was a part of the foothills only partially viewable by the observer. It is where the three horsemen are looking to, where the line of the path ends, and where the tree branches point. It seems to be a clearing on the foothills, perhaps a village, that knowledge is the artist’s alone.
What I interpreted as most telling of Henning’s message is the perspective he chose to depict this scene through. The viewer gets neither a clear view ahead to where the path leads, nor even a position to see what casts the shadow. The people in the painting are dynamic, yet unhurried, seeming to have a clear sense of direction. Why, then, is the viewer left in such murk? Perhaps Henning impoverishes the viewer of orientation in the hope that they will recognize the use of and strive for this more utopian unity with nature, wherein destiny is not determined by nature or the humans that journey through it, but codiscovered.