There were many great works of art in the gallery, much of which were concerned with the theme of mountains. The forms of representation were vast, from the creative approach of combining maps and actual photography in Danial Fisher’s 2 representations to Rudolf Síkora’s Topography IV., which with its plasticity and cold colours, brought out the roughness and texture which, I would say, is often associated with mountains. However, the work which most interested me was the collection of Alfréd Kubin’s lithography’s called Fantasy in Šumava.

These works were very dark in nature, with rough lines mainly in black depicting various horrors. One that stuck in my mind was the piece that showed a hanged man in the forest, surrounded by vague canine-like sleuths which appeared to be laughing at the poor soul’s fate. It is as if the artist wanted to show that there is an underlying misery in something as easily romanticizable as the beautiful landscape and scenery of Šumava.

These works pose a great question and a possibly new, not very much explored feeling related to mountains, that being anxiety. While there is likely a great deal of anxiety involved in scaling more dangerous peaks, there always seems to be some form of rewarding feeling waiting at the end of the journey, some form of self-discovery or fulfilment. But what happens when these feelings never arrive? Furthermore, what if the “journey” is taken out of the equation altogether? While the idea of wandering aimlessly through woods and rocky hills, having their mind as their only companion, might seem appealing to some, it is easy to see how that idea might appear dreadful to others. Romantic forests turn into vast open spaces, easy to get lost in (not in a good way), and your mind can become your worst enemy if left unchecked.