Last night my closest female confidante and I visited Sohlberg Late: Norwegian Nights, a four hour interactive extravaganza put on by Dulwich Picture Gallery to celebrate the Harald Sohlberg Painting Norway exhibition.
This is the first major UK exhibition of Sohlberg’s work …
… which makes me feel slightly better about having known nothing about him or his work prior to visiting Dulwich Picture Gallery. My ignorance saddened me because it forced me to admit that despite identifying very strongly with the Norwegian influence that entered my life when I was a dear little child of three, and consequently having –
- a Norwegian desk flag, lapel pin and waving flag all within easy reach of my desk
- a waffle iron in the kitchen
- a fine range of knitwear and fur in the wardrobe
– The fact remains that I lack basic fluency in the language and culture of Norway.
Three year old iBeheld in her bunad
No room for sadness now though; all room for regret has been filled instead with joy. Harald Sohlberg Painting Norway is one of the most fascinating and satisfying exhibitions I have ever seen. The scale is perfect; with about 100 works to consider, it feels comprehensive, but never overwhelming. In the four hours we spent at the Dulwich Picture Gallery, we made three visits to the paintings. The exhibition is displayed in a suite of rooms either side of the mausoleum that now holds Mariele Neudecker’s latest tank installation And Then The World Changed Colour: Breathing Yellow (commissioned by Dulwich Picture Gallery and inspired by Norwegian forests and the rich colours of Sohlberg’s paintings). The exhibition opens with a self-portrait of the artist and closes with a final room that holds Sohlberg’s mountain paintings.
Harald Sohlberg From the Oslo Fjord, 1926
Why I don’t want to give you any spoilers …
There is absolutely no point in me attempting to ‘review’ this exhibition: I have no formal art training to draw on and would happily believe that Sohlberg achieved his yellows by mashing up dandelions, and his red by smearing raspberry jam on the canvas – if someone I trusted swore it to me. And whilst I enjoyed reading all the interesting information on the walls that gives context and points to consider, my beholding eye is out of whack with critical opinion. If I were to review, I’d be a very unreliable narrator. Where others see menace in Sohlberg’s mermaids, I see playful eroticism. Some believe the immensity of Sohlberg’s skies and vistas suggests that we humans are dwarfed by an overpowering and potentially hostile landscape, but I see that it requires only a tiny piece of shelter to create comfort and security.
Why a four hour evening visit was the perfect exploration…
The first time my friend and I wandered through the exhibition slowly, and independently of one another, coming together mid-way in the mausoleum and again in the final room. Excellent cocktails facilitated chatting about what we’d seen, and encouraged an exploration of the many activities on offer. We skipped the story telling and the Virtual Reality room, and made no contribution to the collective collage work, enjoying instead an embroidery session, and a huge bowl of lapskaus and some smoked fish in the cafe.
My cow (or goat or giraffe, or Lisa Simpson), inspired by a snowflake stamp and some pretty pink thread
Our second visit was a swifter walk-through to confirm first impressions and inform a raid upon the shop; and for the third and final visit, we stuck together as we made our way round the exhibition, whispering our observations, pointing out our favourite elements to one another and feeling a strong sense of regret at having to tear ourselves away once and for all.
Let’s talk about shops …
Thank God for shops, which God, or the Devil, (or both working together), invented to help humankind overcome the natural grief resulting from not being able to insouciantly tuck a masterpiece under one’s arm and tote it back on the tube to contemplate in the comfort of one’s own home.
Harald Sohlberg Exhibition Catalogue published by Hirmer
I exerted huge self-control in denying myself the prints on offer, choosing books instead: the Harald Sohlberg exhibition catalogue, and the charming The Painter and his Dog: A Story about Harald Sohlberg. The exhibition catalogue should mean that I have an abundance of imagery to gorge on, and a fighting chance of becoming more informed about Harald Sohlberg.
The Painter and his Dog: A Story about Harald Sohlberg
The Painter and his Dog is a beautiful picture book aimed at Key Stage 2 children, but like all the best picture books, it is a joy for all ages. Fram the Elkhound is a lovely character, drawn by Guri Guri Henriksen (also by Sohlberg and Munsch) and brought to vivid life through the words of writer Ellen J. Leberg. I particularly like that there is a credit for consultants Mathais Aas Løvald and Sanna Aas Løvold, 10 years old and 8 years old at the time of publication.
Let’s talk about red houses …
Two of Harald Sohlberg’s Røros paintings, at Dulwich Picture Gallery until June
I haven’t ruled out returning to purchase the prints though. I’m particularly yearning for what I think of as ‘the red house pictures’. They bring back in full colour and sweet and sharply painful vividness my childhood impression of Norway, which was informed, not by Sohlberg or Munsch, but – somewhat bizarrely – by the American children’s author Richard Scarry.
Richard Scarry’s Min Første Ordbok, this edition published in 2004 and bought for my son
I think I was nearly an adult before it dawned on me that Richard Scarry was American, and not a Norwegian author translated into English. I took Min First Ordbok to be the Ultimate Guide to Life In Norway: the snowsuits worn by the bear siblings; the supermarkets, where pigs admired the bacon at the butcher’s counter; and most especially, the red house where the rabbit family went about their morning routine – all spoke to me of everyday of life in Norway; a life that my family enjoyed whilst I was at school in England. I pored over this book every day, convinced that I could teach myself Norsk* by deciphering the text word for word.
Mo i Rana in the rain … not the house my Papa was born in, but the same district
When I visited Mo i Rana for the first time last year, I saw the house where my Papa was born. It’s grey, not red, but to me, this traditional style of house is inextricably wound up with Richard Scarry’s illustrations of cosy family life, and despite thirty years of living in London flats, it’s what the word ‘home’ conjures up for me. For this reason, I would love to live with – or in – one of Harald Sohlberg’s Rørus paintings: if I can’t, then I might be visiting Dulwich Picture Gallery again soon to buy those Rørus prints …
Harald Sohlberg Painting Norway at Dulwich Picture Gallery runs until 2nd June 2019
Buy tickets for the exhibition, and consider taking part in the additional activities around it: we loved our Norwegian Lates experience
Virtually explore the merchandise available at the excellent Dulwich Picture Gallery shop and click these links to go directly to Harald Sohlberg Exhibition Catalogue, and Ellen J. Lerberg’s The Painter and his Dog
Find out more about Harald Sohlberg
Find out more about Richard Scarry
Buy Min Først Ordbok NB (#AffiliateLink) I am an Amazon Associate, which means “As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases” – this might put you off clicking here BUT I updated this link in July 2021 and was pleased to find one of these books is now available at less than £40: it was HUNDREDS before, so I urge you to google search rapidly if you want to get your mitts on this classic text.
*I still can’t speak Norsk, not only that, but I don’t even know if I want to learn Nynorsk or Bokmål, nor what the difference is! However, should the occasion arise, I think I could hold my own making small talk with a Norwegian walrus who works as a dental hygienist.
