Climbing as They Were

A weary horse picks its way up a stony trail in Harold von Schmidt's "Climbing as They Were," its head dropped low against the effort of the climb. The cowboy above sits calm and unhurried, his broad hat pulled down to block the sun. Around them spreads a huge stretch of canyon country, painted in warm tans and dusty blues that carry the feeling of dry desert air. Green brush clings to the rocks, and pale mesas fade into the distance behind the rider.

Von Schmidt came by his subject naturally. Raised in California, he spent his early years working ranches and ships before turning to art, and he became one of the best known illustrators of Western tales for magazines and books. His job was to tell stories with pictures, and that shows in the loose, easy brushstrokes and the quiet sense of movement that runs through this scene. The horse looks ready to lift another tired hoof at any second.

Part of the charm here is how plain it all feels. No shootout, no dramatic pose, just a man and his tired animal working their way over rough ground. The painting speaks to a truth about frontier life, which leaned far more on patience and stubborn endurance than on adventure, and it finds something worth showing in a simple, ordinary day on the trail.