INTERVIEW: A SLOW WAY

INTERVIEW BY MICHÈLE GABRIELLE

I am an oil painter, and I make a living from my art. These two aspects define me well, as they are two significant and unique choices that have paved my path in life.

At its core, I paint large, organic works in oil and ink. They often cover half a wall, embracing the viewer. I use subdued, muted, and natural colors. My works alternate between very bright and very dark depictions. I believe it's the Scandinavian experience of the seasons that lingers in my art. Not least, a desire to portrait this cyclical movement. I'll come back to that.

When I paint, I always disappear into a remote space. A good piece requires undivided concentration. But where the act of painting has made the most sense to me is when I have an audience for that space. In a way, I paint for both myself and, to an even greater extent, for others. My works have always resonated with people outside of me, and I have sold my art since I was five years old. It's an incredible drive to see the light in others' eyes, a form of recognition and meaning. That's why I paint.

But I also paint because I love the material. Oil painting has a delightful, classical, and somewhat dusty history, involving stories of power, access, and beauty. I believe it's important to contribute to defining that beauty, and that's why I work with oil painting in both a classical and contemporary sense.

Oil consists of linseed oil and a variety of different minerals. You can even mix the paint yourself from crushed stones if you wish. It's that raw and simple. In this way, the medium holds an ancient status since various pigments for painting historically have been quite precious.

Lately, I've developed a love for Japanese ink. It's in direct contrast to oil because these water-soluble mediums are so lively and straightforward. I enjoy switching between the two mediums.

Choosing to be an artist is also a life choice and a conviction. I live very differently from most people and have to find my own way in all practical and professional matters. I've given a lot of thought to the "meaning" of this choice. At its core, it's about freedom and value.

WHAT DOES "SLOWNESS" MEAN TO YOU, AND WHAT IS “YOUR SLOW WAY”?

Slowness is to me the opportunity and ability to immerse oneself deeply.

I believe it's a skill that can be lost if not cherished. It's the ability to engage in an activity that doesn't immediately have a purpose or a specific end goal but is meaningful in itself.

It may be important to practice and create space for it because I've observed that the world tends to accelerate quickly. Therefore, slowness is a deliberate choice. It rarely happens on its own, in my experience.

I immediately think of nature. I grew up five kilometers into a private and very remote forest. It's one of the few places in Denmark where it can be completely silent. Just to walk. Listen. And smell the sun-warmed earth. Tall grass. Heather. Forest lakes with dark, beautiful water. That forest has given me my eyes.

HOW DO YOU EXPRESS “SLOWNESS” IN YOUR ART?

My oil paintings often take up to a year to dry. The medium itself entails a slowness that is both impractical and delightful. It provides room for techniques and thoughts, and the oil dries with an exquisite depth and gloss.

But my subjects and my choice of colors also revolve around depth. My greatest wish is to portray this depth to my viewers. That's why I've also worked extensively with lake water and reflections. In these waters, there's the opportunity to see both down and up at the same time, and I can't let go of that motif. I want to look deeper and find that floating calm within turmoil, which water can immerse us in. The motif has a history of purification; it is life-giving and ever-changing.

In times of change, perhaps there is a sense of calm in letting motifs and symbols dissolve in a classic motif like water. It might depict both a sense of powerlessness and a desire to surrender to the elements and trust them. We have become so uncertain about trusting nature that we neither manage it well nor connect with it. I am convinced that a deeper connection is the greatest gift.

If I can convey just one image of that, then I consider myself successful.

HOW DO YOU USE “SLOWNESS” AS A SOURCE OF INSPIRATION?

Slowness is a deliberate choice, and I apply that conviction every day. I've intentionally bought a coffee pot that is incredibly slow. The water trickles out of it in a Japanese manner. It's very inefficient, but as I pour the boiling water over my beans, my thoughts often wander, boringly far away in a rather pleasant way.

Art has also become a part of my life from a desire for slowness and depth, both for myself and others. The process of painting is incredibly intense, and it's like a brain cleanse.

The experience of taking a walk, traveling, or life itself is about stopping and dwelling on the unexpected. It's the beginning of everything new and often everything good. Don't you know the satisfaction of sitting by a bench or a lake and watching life happen? It's often in those moments that I experience something very moving.

WHAT DOES “SLOWNESS” TEACH YOU?

Slowness, first and foremost, teaches me something as a concept. It highlights the existence of a phenomenon and a focus.

We must not forget our bodies, as it is through them that we experience the world. Our bodies are anchored in a physical reality, and that's something we often overlook. Therefore, the concept of slowness reminds me of how important physical artworks are to our existence in the world. They can offer a space where the body is also invited to participate.