Although the ideals popular during
the Enlightenment will not radically shake the European (and, in fact, the
worldwide) political scene for another hundred years or so, we ought not to
continue anachronistically; so we will quickly put a few of those ideals on the
table now, and we will have to keep them in the back of our memory for later. The great thinkers of the Enlightenment are
no unfamiliar names: John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, Denis Diderot, Jean-Jacques
Rousseau, René Descartes, Adam Smith, and Voltaire, just to name a few. Each of these (and several others) is
important to the development of Western philosophy, but there is simply too
much there to examine each of their writings and ideas. So, not to neglect the others but only for
the sake of time, we will focus mainly on Rousseau, whose philosophies will
directly influence the future of the art we will be looking at.
But first it is essential to
understand that around this time the idea of what the French called bon sauvage (the philosophical concept
of the noble savage) was being established.
Perhaps directly influenced by the Colonials, who were observing and
interacting with the native "Indians" first-hand, European
philosophers had to rethink the nature of mankind upon discovering what they
saw as a totally different race of humanity.
Despite the wholesale slaughter of countless natives via their own
expatriates, the European populace slowly fell toward favoring the
"savage" because of the belief in man's inherent state of purity when
left uncorrupted by society and technology.
This concept was further
established (but certainly not first thought of) by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a
writer, philosopher, and musician who lived during the latter half of the
Enlightenment Period. Rousseau's novel Émile propagated the notions that children
are born pure, and that it is the culture of society which corrupts the mind
and heart of innocence in youth.
Children, he argued, should be raised in the country, in nature, like
peasants (or savages) in order to mature more naturally (and, consequently,
more ideally). It was here that the word
"kindergarten" originated—a
German word comprised of the words for "child" and
"garden." Rousseau's idea of
education was one which sought to put children in better touch with Nature and the
pure, unadulterated pastoral world of God's creation. Through natural unfolding, left alone to grow
in countryside settings away from technological influence, children, Rousseau
asserted, would develop as purer human beings than even the greatest of his
contemporaries. This ideology is still
seen all around us today in our own education system. Early American leaders and entrepreneurs
bought into this philosophy and applied it to their construction of college
campuses and universities across the nation.
This is why so many colleges are decorated and supplied with verdant
foliage, to the resemblance of a public park or garden grove. It's not just for looks; it stems (no pun
intended) from the idea that our youth should be raised and educated in
nature. Most universities in the United
States today are still kept to look this way.
With this notion the only logical
conclusion to arrive at is that truth, purity, and the holiness of God can be
found in Nature, since it is through living in harmony with the natural world
(like a savage) that one becomes truly noble.
We have seen a focus on pastoral landscapes in art before, during the
Dutch Baroque period of art; but note the distinction. The Dutch Baroque artists were acting from
religious motivations—Protestant motivations—in effort to express the idea that
the natural man could be holy without the intermediation of the Catholic
Church; and the humble peasant could, in his own plowing-field, be considered
as holy as—or more holy than—the most decorated bishop in the Vatican. It was about religion and the Protestant view
of man's direct relationship to God. The
Enlightenment view of Rousseau is very different. It erases God and claims that mankind can be
perfect in and of himself if only
raised to live in harmony and peaceful coexistence with the natural world that
God created. Since God's creation is
inherently good, a savage living off the land is closer to holiness than a
nobleman. No longer is it about relating
to God through Nature and everyday observances and living; it's about becoming
ideally perfect in and of one's own human nature through separation from
civilization. This is a very important
concept, and I may not be explaining it clearly enough; perhaps a little later
on we can discuss it some more. A simple
way to tell the difference between the two mindsets is in the physical
manifestation of their art. The Dutch
Baroque artists, you will recall, often included a spire, or church steeple, in
their landscape paintings as a symbol of their humble religious devotion, a
reminder to serve God faithfully; the later Romantics, as we will see, paint
equally lovely images of natural landscapes—but without the spire. This apotheosis of Nature will become
grandiosely significant later on, but for now it is merely introduced.
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