My painting during week 30 of „One Year – One Island“
Now that I’m coming to an area that I know so well, it’s getting difficult to choose a motif. I get the impression that there’s so much to see and do in the Löttorp area – how am I supposed to choose? I’m sure there are just as many interesting things to see in other parts of Öland, I just don’t know them or haven’t been able to get past them. In my thoughts, I was thinking about Löttorp itself, but also the villages to the south and north of it: Hagaby, Gudesjö, Skriketorp, and Sandby. Beyond Gudesjö lies a large farm in the middle of a nature reserve – but it’s far enough west that I can choose it as a motif later, once I’ve rounded the northern tip and head south along the west coast. One of the motifs on my shortlist was Hagaby Lighthouse. So I went there.
I have a nice story about this lighthouse: when we first moved here, the lighthouse keeper’s house was occupied by a sea captain. He grew up as the son of a pastor in Högby (just a few kilometers away), then went to sea and was an artist on the side. He painted – his inspiration was obvious – primarily the sea and large ships. He was over 80 years old, lived there alone with his ancient dachshund, and was only occasionally seen in front of the grocery store, where he drove up in a shiny vintage convertible. A handsome man, he fit the stereotype of an old sea dog: bearded, tall, and taciturn. But most striking were his steely blue eyes. My mother, who saw him in front of the store during one of her visits, asked if we could visit the painter in his studio. And she wasn’t the only woman who had taken a second look at the man, but he seemed to have no desire for social contact. He stayed in town only as long as absolutely necessary and then disappeared back to his headland with the lighthouse. On one occasion, he opened his studio in the attic of the house and exhibited his paintings. We were among the many visitors, most of whom (like us) were less interested in his somewhat old-fashioned oil paintings of choppy seas in storms than in the large, squat lighthouse keeper’s house and its charismatic hermit. First, his dachshund died, and not long after, he himself. The house and the lighthouse, which, incidentally, is no longer in use, were inherited by his son – also an artist – who lived there for a while, but then moved back to Stockholm, and the house has stood empty ever since.
On the day I wanted to paint the lighthouse, the sky was overcast gray, and the lighthouse keeper’s house on the headland simply seemed flat and boring without a clear contrast between sunlight and shadows. The sky was roughly the same blue-gray tone as the sea, so there was no contrast, no eye-catcher, no splash of color. Of course, I could have painted the sunlight into the picture, or a bright red buoy or something – but I didn’t want to. This project is about showing Öland as it is, in this moment and in this place. I tried every angle, walked through the bushes to find a more interesting position – but nothing! It was boring and remained so. Disappointed, I went back to the car and drove back the way I came. Suddenly the sun broke through the clouds and I almost turned around to face the lighthouse when I saw a picture straight out of a picture book to my right: a white garden gate, gleaming in the sun, between a stone wall and framed by two chestnut trees (I love chestnut trees – in Bavaria, where I grew up, there are lots of them, but here in Sweden there are fewer). Behind it lay a small red house built at a right angle and a pretty porch in front of the front door with a so-called „Snickerglädje“. Snickarglädje translates as „carpenter’s joy“ and refers to an ornate and essentially superfluous wooden decoration, usually painted white. I imagine the word comes from the fact that the carpenter took such joy in his work that he simply added a few more decorations.
Across the street was a sign that read „Ceramics,“ and I realized I knew who lived there: it must be the house of Anna Tengby, a ceramicist who had participated in a collective exhibition at my gallery last year. Anna’s yard was also picturesque, but unfortunately, the house with its beautiful entrance was completely in the shade. Since I wanted to sit in her driveway to paint the neighboring house, perhaps I should say hello. Anna was home and introduced me to her neighbor. She said the house belonged to her ex-husband and his wife, Björn and Agneta. What amazed me once again was that you can still be friends after a divorce—I know that, of course, but the word „ex-husband“ always makes me immediately twitch. My divorce was a real “war of roses”, and I definitely wouldn’t want to live in the house next door. The fact that that’s possible for Anna only makes her more likeable to me. In any case, Björn and Agneta were pleased that I liked their house so much and gave me permission to paint it.
The cottage was built in 1910, as I found out online, making it a fine example of all the old houses that still exist here on Öland, which people renovate and preserve with respect, taste, and attention to detail. I have no idea whether Björn or Agneta inherited or bought the cottage—but if the garden gate looks so inviting, it must be a happy place to live. I quickly took a photo of the sunlight on the chestnut leaves and the wall, in case the sun disappeared again. But I was in luck: it lastet untill I was finished. And most of the time, a male blackbird sat in a high branch behind me, singing his most beautiful song with great variety. What a beautiful evening.
