All images have been pulled from Nicholas Coleman’s website and all credit for those goes to him. Find him on Twitter and Instagram

Oscar Wilde once made the derogatory comment that the United States moved from barbarism to decadence without civilisation in between. Whether America is now decadent is up to the reader to determine, but there is no denying that there is (or at least, was) a uniquely American civilisation that emerged on this continent, and perhaps nowhere is that civilisation’s ethos more encapsulated than the enduring image of the Old West. The heroics of the US Cavalry against the equally heroic Native American Braves (though depending on your reading of history, you may opt to change the word “heroic” to “brutal), the settlers and homesteaders moving west into the mountains, and the rugged backwoodsmen attempting to forge a new life away from the crowded east are archetypes firmly embedded in the American psyche.

This Romantic aspect of American civilisation has been a remarkable part of our culture for decades, captured in films like Legends of the Fall and Hostiles. Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Christian Bale, John Wayne, Anthony Hopkins, and more have all graced the screen to personify the stoic loner who desires the freedom the west offers, and where the emptiness of the west forces them to confront themselves in a new manner.

The west has been an integral part of national image for as long as this country has been a country. But no-one alive today has done more to capture its enduring memory than Nicholas Coleman.

Nicholas Coleman, a native of Provo Utah, is attempting to capture the enduring spirit of the west, not on film, but canvass. His works range from portraying the sweeping landscapes of the vast western part of this country, to the specific emotions of individuals who live within that landscape, capturing the stoicism of the ethos of the west on their often-stony faces.

Coleman is the scion of an artistic lineage – his father is the fabled artist Michael Coleman, who Nicholas credits with his introduction to and inspiration for the world of art. But what the elder Coleman did was more than just introduce his son to paint and galleries; he passed on his love of history, he took his son on hunting and fishing trips, introducing him to the outdoors traditions that sustains generations of westerners: “since I was very little,” Nicholas Coleman says, “art has been my lifelong path”.

While many artists would select a style and portray their subjects through the lens of said preferred style, Coleman takes a different approach: “I think my style just happens to be what I gravitate towards,” he writes in an email, “it continues to evolve”. The refusal to cling dogmatically to a single style allows for a symbiotic relationship with his subjects: the subject of the painting influences the style of that painting.

And on his subjects, they are truly remarkable. Morning Light depicts a lone Native American on horseback, the legs of which are being subsumed by the long grass below. Behind him, the vastness of the west is portrayed, with land and sky blurring together on the horizon. The heroic Brave dominates the picture, but nature creeps into view. The Brave stands tall not against the oncoming settler on behalf of his tribe, but against the wild west itself on behalf of man. “I definitely love the concept of the struggle between the tamed and the untamed wild” Coleman writes, “I think we can fool ourselves into thinking we have won the west or tamed the wilds…we do our best to put ourselves into it and test our fortitude. I think humans intrinsically strive for adventure and through art we can often remind ourselves that it is out there”. Other works like Mending the Canoe show a similar theme, with the lone oarsman taking a break on the shore of a lake whose vastness swallows him whole, only for the reader to then realise that this lake is swallowed by the forests, which in turn are swallowed by the mountains, none of which daunt the spirit of the man.

Coleman’s work, like the piece mentioned, often features just one individual engaged in some sort of action. Coleman’s view is individualistic: “I think it’s fallacy to think that one man or woman can’t make a difference in the world. I think we see that being proved wrong every day. All kinds of fantastic stories of hard work and achievements, all these endeavors are worth it”. That said, his works like Come and Take It suggest a conflict at play: between maximising the freedom of the individual and the sacrifice thereof in the performance of national duty. He does take a view on which side of that argument he falls on: “That freedom to choose for oneself and duty to nation can seem tricky but only in the freedom of that individual to be free sets that example to each of us to pursue our dreams. America is special that way. It can seem a few have lost their way and its abstract to think of art in the context of freedom but that freedom of expression is real and tangible”. His other works A Late Start and Headed West show similar toying with the interplay of these ideas: the self-sacrificing nature of teamwork and duty to a cause greater than yourself, all set within a context of total freedom as depicted by the natural world.

In fact, this dichotomy of the natural world within Coleman’s art, as on the one hand a vast and untamable space against which man must perpetually struggle, alongside the reality that this same untamable landscape is the setting for, arguably, the single greatest manifestation of human freedom in history serves to capture an important aspect of that freedom: it can only be earned through struggle.  “It is a reality [of freedom] though, the good the bad the ugly and the often-overlooked amazing aspect of it all”. The struggle is the price, and the peace shown on the stoic faces of his subjects is the reward.

During our discussions we covered the distinction between the new west and the old west. The old west embodies what was outlined earlier: a distinctly unique and American concept of freedom hyper focused on the individual alone to live as he chooses. The new west however is brought along with it by the new settlers to the west fleeing the cities of California and New York, turning the once rugged towns of the West to little enclaves of coastal sensibilities. Bozeman, Montana has earned the nickname Boz Angeles.

“I’ve definitely seen the loss of the old west and even that vision”, and the new arrivals bring with them a new artistic sensibility, “my vision is overlooked by a younger generation [that] when it comes down to it, don’t like the past or even know what it is… There is a shift to graphic design with a western motif but the substance in my opinion isn’t quite there”. But if the art of the new west isn’t capturing the true spirit of the land, to whom can we turn to get a true sense of what the west was? “I think of Thomas Cole, or Asher B. Durand. Frederic Church, and so many others, Albert Bierstadt, Thomas Moran, Hermann Herzog. These were artists living on the edge of the ever-changing boarders of this country as it was being forged. The strenuous life lived might be an understatement. They painted some of the last herds of buffalo, faced and met some of the last of the Native American Indian tribes. I get excited thinking about it.”

The sensibilities of the new residents capture an unfortunate trend throughout the rest of the country: a form of national self-flagellation forcing us to conduct a supposed reckoning with our history, and pseudo-Maoist struggle sessions in condemnation of our past. “I know there are those that criticize the history…I’m grateful that we at least get to talk about it still. We see bits and pieces being erased by regimes around the world and chunks of history are forever being erased. It’s heart breaking. Through art, there is a certain preservation of a certain way of life and we get to hold onto a bit of that fleeting spirit.”

So does Coleman share the opinions of the new residents? What does he think of the legacy of the old west? Unsurprisingly he writes “I get excited thinking about it”.

Coleman’s desire to preserve the old west goes beyond simply capturing it in paint. He takes action to help preserve the beauty of the natural world: working with the Vital Ground Foundation and the Atlantic Salmon Foundation, which help conserve the natural habitats of grizzly bears and wild salmon respectively. While this is not the exclusive motivation, it is worth noting that a true religious faith provides an impetus to act in this manner: “I am a man of faith and we are responsible for our surroundings and being good stewards, whether over livestock and wildlife and the land in which they and we all live”. After all, living in the beauty of the west makes it hard not to see the numinous hand of God around you: “the majesty that surrounds us is an incredible gift. In the breeze on your face on a summer night. The last light your see fading behind the horizon each day. We think that is just supposed to happen, it’s a miracle every single day”.

Perhaps unsurprisingly Coleman waxes poetic about the love he has for this country, and the America of which he speaks is the untouched wilderness that even today has still not see the works of human hands: “I do happen to love Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. Also, the Adirondacks holds a special place in my heart. It feels ancient and hidden”. After all, he loves the memory of this country: “I have even titled one or two of my paintings, A Song from the Past, as the memory can feel like a song. Coming and going and holding a place in our minds. Given the chance we search for it unknowingly.”