Csontváry's lonely cedar wasn't that lonely after all

“The Lonely Cedar” by Tivadar Kosztka Csonváry is without doubt one of the most famous Hungarian paintings. It is ingrained in our minds, despite many never having seen the original. Until now, the origin of this painting has been unknown. According to one theory, Csontváry was inspired by an illustration, and never set foot among the Lebanese Cedars, while according to another, this particular cedar never existed at all. Some purported to know where the tree was hidden, but these claims were never substantiated. One art historian named Gábor Rieder, however, finally found the tree after conducting, in his words, couch-research. As it turned out, the lonely cedar was not so lonely after all.

Although the Hungarian painter isn't Gábor Rieder’s area of expertise, while researching the most iconic Hungarian paintings, naturally, he could not leave Csontváry out. Reading about the Lonely Cedar, he was struck by the incredibly dry title given to it by a German art catalogue: Cedar in Lebanon, 1800m above sea level near Tripoli, at sunset.

“This dry, descriptive title that a painter would never give their work, stuck with me. Then half a year later everyone had to stay at home due to Covid. I decided to revisit the subject – at first, as more of a hobby than anything. I wanted to look at things critically and destroy the myths surrounding the masterpiece. Art historians Péter Molnos and Zsófia Végvári had already proven that some of his paintings were based on postcards and illustrations, made in his studio. I thought the same would apply to the Lonely Cedar, too.” – Gábor Rieder, who published a longer article about the cedar in Artmagazin said.

The art historian expected to find the image that inspired the 1907 painting rather quickly, as the German title felt like it was taken out of a travel guide. But with Csontváry, a common problem has been deciding what he conjured from fantasy and what had any basis in reality. The same problem arises when investigating his travels.

Rieder went through numerous library databases. Though there is an amazing amount of information on any subject, he said, he still could not locate a cedar similar to Csontváry’s. “His depiction is atypical. Those that I found were quite different: Csontváry painted a weak, dry, wounded tree, not the usual towering figure of a cedar. This supported my ever-stronger theory that the painting was not based on a postcard, and further, that there is no such print or picture,” the researcher explained.

The fascination with cedars living in the Lebanon Mountains developed parallel to human civilisation. The trees were said to have god-like powers that only extraordinary people could get hold of. The massive, primeval trees were in high demand even in ancient times, the largest of them making for high quality building material used in ships and buildings. The forests were cut at the behest of Egyptian pharaohs and Middle-Eastern rulers, leaving few trees for us today.

Their numbers were sparse at the beginning of the 20th century as well, but the biblical landscape attracted many who came looking for the mythical trees. One of the most known Cedar groves, the Bsharri grove, was sought out by many a traveller and pilgrim. The trees near Tripoli were also dubbed the “Lord’s Cedars”. Prints and drawings from the 19th century were abundant, and all signs point to Csontváry setting foot there, but nobody could locate the one, elusive, lonely cedar.

Gábor Rieder looked through hundreds of pictures of cedar trees from the beginning of the 18th century, but had trouble finding any leads. “I, like many others, searched for a lonely cedar. I went through lots of photos shot by tourists, I looked for the valley seen in the backdrop of the painting, but even the valleys are countless over there. Then I found a photo from the Library of Congress, depicting campers in a cedar grove. How convenient it would be, I thought, if Csontváry himself would be resting in front of the tent. Though he was nowhere to be found, I still had the eureka moment: Csontváry’s tree, with all its branches, even the one which looks like it’s holding a knife, was on the photo.” the art historian recalled.

The image previously unknown to Hungarian researchers was from the photography department of Jerusalem's American Colony which at the time was making souvenir-photos in the Middle East using special stereoscopic techniques, creating a faux 3D effect. Rieder finds it unlikely that Csontváry would have seen these, because these photos usually depict famous tourist locations and landscapes. The lonely cedar, which, as we now see, was not so lonely after all, doesn’t show up on other photos. That means the painter was probably there himself; even if he didn’t actually paint it in the grove, he at least jotted down a quick sketch at the location.

Though the American photo revealed the tree, where the picture was taken was yet to be known. Rieder asked for the assistance of Lebanese environmentalists and botanists in finding the cedar, but that only led to a string of false alarms as everyone claimed to have found it – even if their tree barely resembled the one in the picture.

The couch proved to be more fruitful. The Hungarian researcher began to wade through more modern photos of the cedar groves, even roaming around the Bsharri grove using Google Street View. There he found the famous tree, which, up to that point went unnoticed, probably because the iconic knife-like branch had broken off, making it harder to recognise.

“I went through the grove many times without noticing the cedar. But the two trees next to it, which could be seen on many prints of the grove, made it clear that this was our tree, missing its craggy right branch. Since 1989, Hungarians had unveiled memorial plaques here twice, not knowing that the lonely cedar was standing just 10 metres away.”

According to Rieder, the Csontváry cedar was hidden by the growing trees and foliage around it, which is why it was not found on more contemporary photos of the grove.

But before booking a flight to Lebanon, you might want to know that the tree is no longer between the Lord’s Cedars. It fell sometime between 2018 and 2019 and only its decaying remains are still in the grove, seen on some photos from tourists.

“Csontváry was of the opinion that cedar trees could live up to 6000 years – a generous estimate, seeing as many thought that number was 4000, and professional botanists would be even more conservative. But in some sense, this cedar is a self-portrait of the painter who only stepped into the arts quite late in life.” Gábor Rieder said.

Translation: Allen Benjámin Zoltán