A Landscape with a Ruined Building at the Foot of a Hill by a River

Although it is signed with the initials ‘JR’, questions have been raised as to whether this is an original painting by Jacob van Ruisdael or a version made by one of his contemporaries, derived from two similar landscapes he painted around 1655. There is a larger version of the same composition in the Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Dresden. This varies slightly, most importantly in the right foreground. Where the Dresden painting has an upright birch tree, the National Gallery’s version depicts a fallen one.Despite the doubts, the quality of the painting and the picture’s strong sense of atmosphere suggest that it probably is by van Ruisdael. And, as is common in his pictures, there is a feeling of melancholy about the composition. The sky is dark and oppressive, and the background is dominated by shadowy cliffs. In the right foreground, the fallen birch tree – a common device to help give an impression of depth to a view – hints at the destructive power of nature. The jagged edges of the stump suggest that it has been blown down by a storm rather than felled with an axe, and this seems to have happened recently: the leaves on the branches are dying but still show signs of green.To add to this sense of decay, the top of the tower in the middle ground and the walls behind it also seem to be in ruins. The title of the painting refers to this simply as a building but it is almost certainly a church. Gravestones lean up against the nave, which is also ruined and roofless. This is confirmed by looking at the Dresden version, which is called The Monastery and depicts the building more clearly. The spire of what seems to be another church is also visible beyond the large building (it doesn’t appear in the Dresden painting).The painting has darkened over time, but we can just about make out three tiny figures on the road in front of the church, and a man with a white dog walking out of the picture to the left. Somehow, these signs of life seem to add to the sense of melancholy. They are distant and unreachable. We are cut off from them both by the fallen branches of the birch tree and by the dark waters of the river beyond it.