How Art from Our Mountains Changed America
Part Two
By Sue Sommers
July 20, 2026
How Art from Our Mountains Changed America
Part One | Part Two | Part Three (coming soon)
As an artist myself, and someone who has photographed, sketched and painted the Wind River Mountains, I think I understand some of the challenges Albert Bierstadt faced during his summer here in 1859.
In 2019, I sketched the waterfall dropping into Island Lake from the same viewpoint as my photograph in the previous blog post:

I wanted to see – and feel – how this location compared to the waterfall in Bierstadt’s painting of Island Lake.
Practically speaking, a multitude of conditions hamper careful, patient artmaking at altitude. There can be low clouds obscuring the views, hordes of biting insects, wind, frightening storms, wildfire smoke fading all colors, and sunlight as harsh and searing as a brass gong, to name just a few. Frustrations may include scattered tools, constantly shifting light, intense physical discomfort, and a lot of wasted paper. I never did make the waterfall appear to drop a great distance into the lake, because I was trying to paint what I saw. As Bierstadt knew well, sometimes you have to paint what isn’t there in order to give the viewer the actual sensations of space and depth.
Just as we share the same challenging conditions Bierstadt likely did while sketching in 1859, we travel into the Winds in much the same way he did: with pack animals and a guide, riding or on foot. Space, weight, and time are at a premium today, just as they were for Bierstadt 167 years ago. Except when he left the mountains, Bierstadt would keep riding and walking all the way to St. Louis, and beyond.
But in my opinion, the biggest challenge for artists among the peaks is scale. Everything up high in the Wind River Range is very close, and unbelievably massive.
Seven years ago, when I turned away from Island Lake and faced the opposite direction, I saw and photographed part of the spine of the Winds. First, I drew and painted studies of what I saw. I felt the sketches were successful, but my hand and the paper weren’t compatible with the scale of the actual place:


In fact, it’s nearly impossible to fit the three-dimensional reality (and our five senses) of the Rocky Mountains into a single painting or photograph. Bierstadt’s awe and amazement is apparent in a lengthy July 10 letter (The Crayon 1859, p.287) in which he describes “the mighty perpendicular cliffs that rise hundreds of feet aloft, all capped with snow … we are among a different class of mountains.” Although Bierstadt wrote that the Rocky Mountains compared with the Swiss Alps he had visited, up to that point on the Oregon Trail, he would have experienced nothing quite like the Wind River Range.
In the same letter, Bierstadt mentioned difficulty with his photographic equipment: “We have taken many stereoscopic views, but not so many of mountain scenery as I could wish, owing to various obstacles attached to the process.” While he succeeded in photographing people, animals, and middle-distance scenes, the Rocky Mountains themselves defied his camera.
This suggests that Bierstadt, like many of us with cameras or brushes, would have relied on the details he captured in smaller scenes to concentrate beauty and spark memory: perhaps sunlight on part of a peak, an animal in a meadow, or wildflowers after a summer storm.

In the next blog post, we’ll consider Bierstadt’s version of another iconic Wind River peak.

Continue Reading the Series
Part One: Albert Bierstadt in the Wind River Range: 1859
Part Three: Albert Bierstadt in the Wind River Range: 1859 (Coming Soon)
Interested in learning more about Albert Bierstadt and the Wind River Range? Join us August 20, 2026 for a presentation on
Albert Bierstadt and his time in the Wind River Range by Sue Sommers at the Museum of the Mountain Man.
More details coming soon.




