There Stands a High Mountain, 1960

The Isaacs Gallery, Toronto, 5 December 1979
Private Collection, Montreal

William Kurelek’s appreciation of his Ukrainian heritage deepened throughout his life. Themes of his heritage and identity were often present in his art, including in There Stands a High Mountain, which serves as the title of this painting and the title of a Ukrainian song whose lyrics reflect on the passage of time. The lyrics were written by Ukrainian poet Leonid Hlibov in 1859, in a poem titled Zhurba, meaning “Sorrow” or “Melancholy”. The poem was later set to music and became part of Ukraine’s popular folk-song tradition.

Kurelek’s painting depicts the scene described in the song: a mountain above a dense green grove, with a clear stream winding through a valley. The lyrics are written in the upper-left corner of the painting, providing context for the viewer. The beautiful natural scene gradually takes on a more melancholy meaning, represented by the contemplative solitary figure sitting at the top of the mountain. Spring will return after winter, but youth will not return once it has passed. The landscape becomes a reflection of human sorrow, nostalgia and the inevitability of aging.

The monumental painting by Kurelek at the Art Gallery of Ontario, Reminiscences of Youth, completed in 1968, eight years after this work, also references the song and its sentiment. In the later painting, Kurelek depicts himself lying on a bed by a record player, with the lyrics to “There Stands a High Mountain” next to him. By contrast, outside the large window beside him is a large group of children playing in the snow, echoing the song’s theme of the irretrievability of youth.

There Stands A High Mountain Lament – A Ukrainian Folk Song

There stands a high mountain And beneath it a grove, A dense green grove As though truly Eden

Beneath the grove, flows the river The water glimmering as gloss Down the green valley It flows somewhere.

On the banks, in a sheltered spot Canoes are tied There three oak trees are bent as if they are worried

That the loving summer will pass And the cold will blow That their leaves will fall And be carried by the water

I too, worry at the river As it flows, mur-murs For I have a sensitive heart It swoons, and aches.

There stands a high mountain And a rustling green grove Birds sing loudly And the river shimmers

How pleasant and how gay It is to live in a white world Why does my heart swoon and ache ?

It hurts and aches That spring will return But youth will never return It will never return.