„One Year – One Island“ – week 9
As I live in the country and the next larger town is 50 km away and the next larger city is over one hour ride away, trips there are always planned well in advance. Usually we have a long list – stuck to the fridge – which has filled up during the last weeks. Since I started this painting project 9 weeks ago, I have already driven over 1,000 kilometers on the island to my on-site painting spots and even here in Sweden the price of petrol is high. So I think carefully about whether I have to drive to Borgholm or Kalmar again during the week or whether I can combine it with my painting project. This Thursday I had an urgent dentist appointment in Borgholm at short notice. I sat in the car at 9 a.m. and it was -2 ºC (about 28 ºF). When it comes to dentists, I’m a coward and so I’m glad when the appointment is over. After that I drove straight to Grönhögen because when I was painting the cement factory last week, I thought that a limestone quarry might be a good next subject because it is directly related to the cement factory. There are – as I wrote last week – many quarries on Öland and they are all on the west coast (the part that faces the mainland).
The quarry in Grönhögen is still in operation, at least part of it, and that is why it is difficult to paint there: only employees are allowed in there. But I found a way that required me to park my car in a field entrance and to walk a little across a meadow. This brought me very close to the edge of the quarry and I was able to sit there without disturbing anyone (surley no one even noticed I was there). There are mostly no tourists on Öland during the wintertime and every car (really every car) that is not known from the neighborhood stands out. I was a little worried that my „wildly“ parked car could irritate someone and that I would not notice it behind my meadow. So I stuck a note behind the windshield:
„I am an artist and I sit nearby and paint. If my car bothers you here, call me and I will park it somewhere else.”
At first I wanted to paint the excavation work in the quarry, but I couldn’t get close enough. So I painted the part of the disused part of the quarry that has been a bathing place for the people of Öland for many years. Many young people take it as a test of courage to jump from the cliff into the water. It is deep enough for that. It is no longer an insider tip and more and more tourists come here in the summer to swim.
I really didn’t think about swimming: my feet were freezing miserably. The wind was blowing up here and the sun, which had cast an interesting light on the blue house at midday, had disappeared two hours later. At half past two I packed up and called my colleague Theo. I had agreed with him that I would come by after painting, because he lives just a kilometer north of Grönhagen. I wanted to see his studio (because he lives so far south I had never visited him before) and at the same time I could warm up and finally get rid of the tea that I had needed to warm up.
Theo Janson is a woodcarver and graphic artist (see his homepage). His father was already a well-known graphic artist, so Theo grew up in an artistic home. Theo has already done a lot of decorations in hospitals and other public buildings and places. For the big Öland harvest festival (which attracts hundreds of thousands of people to the island every year) he designs a corn maze with his colorful and funny figures, which can then be discovered in the green corridors. My husband and I managed to visit the maze for the first time this year before the farmer mows it down for the harvest. But Theo is best known for his onion boards, which he shows at the harvest festival. Huge mosaics made of onions (red, yellow, white, green onions) – his neighbor sponsors the almost 5000 vegetable onions, he designs the picture.
When it got dark, which is around 3.30 p.m. here in southern Sweden in December, I drove to Kalmar, across the bridge to the mainland. That is our next largest city. There I was invited to a så called „Julmys“ in a small artist gallery at 6 p.m., as I am a member. „Julmys“ means something like „Christmas coziness“ and on this occasion people meet to chat, drink Swedish mulled wine („Glögg“) and nibble on „Pepparkakor“ (Swedish gingerbread – by the way: I love the swedish style to eat the gingerbread with bluecheese and fig jam. Oh and… have you ever seen “Santa Lucia”? It is the most wonderful tradition in Sweden, I think! This year we have been in Borgholm to celebrate Lucia at the church there. )
I arrived a little later because I took the opportunity to choose between a several shoestores and bought myself a pair of really warm winter boots – in a size larger – so that my feet wouldn’t be so icy in the coming weeks.
I go to these gallery meetings primarily to make contacts, but that is really difficult in artistic circles – at least that is how I feel. Since you often sit alone in the studio, you naturally want to use such opportunities to talk to other people interested in art about your point of artistical view and your own work. All creative people feel the same way – including me. But when you are standing in a room with 30 artists (a glögg in one hand, a Pepparkaka in the other) and everyone is trying to lead a conversation about their own art discipline, you quickly reach the point where you either just listen obediently or give up in frustration. And although I am a communicative person, extroverted and not afraid to make the first step, I somehow cannot think of an interesting introductory sentence. I usually say „Hello, I’m Angelika and I make socially critical art. What is your name and what kind of art do you make?“ Then I listen for a long time, nod, smile understandingly and show my interest by asking questions. I always hope that the other person will ask me a question about my art too, but often the person I’m talking to has probably already forgotten. You have to go beyond „What do you do?“ and „I am doing so and so“ to make a really lasting contact. To my great joy, I was able to make a lasting contact with a fellow artist and I now regularly visit several art exhibitions with her. But it’s astonishing that many artists don’t seem to have any particular interest in a network. I’ve asked other colleagues several times and although they weren’t averse to it, we haven’t managed to meet yet.
I wonder if this is a phenomenon that particularly affects creative people – because they can cope well with themselves and their creative thoughts on their own or because many visuell artists are rather introverted – OR whether it is a phenomenon of oversaturation. Most people are so overwhelmed by information and new things in their own field of interest (thanks to the algorithms) that they are perhaps more happy to find a time slot for themselves.
With that in mind, I will stop „chattering“ now and wish you and your loved ones a Happy New Year (there are only 5 hours left until the New Year’s Eve countdown)!