Imagine flying … you’re high up … looking down on this landscape. What do you see?

Civilization (no. 5), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 1b), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 4), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Imagine flying … you’re high up … looking down on this landscape. What do you see?

There is a lot of green and some brown and orange. It looks like something organic, and that it is. There are straight lines – it is also known from nature. There are forms that recur – it is also known from nature. But the combination of straight lines, shapes and patterns occurs with a frequency … It must be man-made. There has been a human being.

Where there have been people, we speak of civilizations. The word civilization has for most people positive connotations. When you say civilization, you also implicitly say that there is something valuable.

But this is not necessarily the case: Civilization is not neutral, rather it contains both the positive and the negative – and everything else imaginable.
Does man need nature and the globe?
Does the globe need man?
Imagine you’re not flying …

October, 2019

Civilization (no. 5), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 1b), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Civilization (no. 4), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

The object of this series is the seed capsules from the plant Large-leaved Lupine. And it brought itself into focus …

One day when I was resting outside, I heard a sound. First, it was far away, and something that could not really break through my “own” thoughts that I was in. Pop, it sounded. Again, and again. It could be someone shooting something far away, but once the sound managed to reach my consciousness, it convinced me that it came from the garden – my garden.

POP (no. 5), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 1), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 8), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

The object of this series is the seed capsules from the plant Large-leaved Lupine. And it brought itself into focus …

One day when I was resting outside, I heard a sound. First, it was far away, and something that could not really break through my “own” thoughts that I was in. Pop, it sounded. Again, and again. It could be someone shooting something far away, but once the sound managed to reach my consciousness, it convinced me that it came from the garden – my garden.

It was seed pods exploding in the sun and the heat. It was the explosion that sounded like pop, and that’s how the lupine spreads its seeds. The seeds are black and round like very small cannon balls. At a closer inspection I saw them on the dry soil. They were everywhere, and they gathered where the surface commanded them to roll.

That vision made me think of a photo by Roger Fenton, taken in 1855 during the Crimean War. The photo is titled “The Valley of the Shadow of Death”, and the motif is a barren and deserted landscape with cannon balls scattered all over, like having come down as rain.

That’s what I saw in my garden.

But now only with the reverse sign: The seeds of the Lupins are “opposite” cannon balls. They are indications of life.
July, 2019

POP (no. 5), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 1), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

POP (no. 8), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

The subject of this series is the roots of the Rugosa Rose. [1] It is also called Beach Rose, and in Denmark it comes under the designation “vildrose” (translated: Wild Rose).

Perhaps it is this last term that best frames my love – Wild Rose.

Wild Rose (no. 2), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 120 x 120 cms

Wild Rose (no. 3), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 120 x 120 cms

The subject of this series is the roots of the Rugosa Rose. [1] It is also called Beach Rose, and in Denmark it comes under the designation “vildrose” (translated: Wild Rose).

Perhaps it is this last term that best frames my love – Wild Rose.

I associate it with a fragrance that connotates summer, the bright time of the year. As a kid, when I was evading school and the weather was fine, I took my kayak and paddled to an island where I found shelter on the beach. A beach and a place often defined by large Beach Roses, either in bloom or later in the season, bearing the well-known orange fruits.

Currently, I have not dug up the roots for them to be part of my project. I did not dig them up. They lay scattered on my beach. The beach was like having been hit by a bomb. A municipal front loader or an excavator had systematically dug up all the roses and filled them into containers for destruction. Only the deep traces from the heavy construction machinery and small parts og roots remained in the sand.

Today, the plant must be controlled, and it is on the Nature Agency’s list of landscape weeds. The Rugosa Rose is condemned invasive – it is a stranger.

Thanks for this time, Wild Rose.
June, 2019

Wild Rose (no. 2), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 120 x 120 cms

Wild Rose (no. 3), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 120 x 120 cms

Warts can be combated with its juice, and if you pick it to bring it in as a bouquet, it collapses. The flower closes and the stem becomes limp, as if it will not accept this kind of cultivation.

You learn this as a child.

Since then, I have noticed its ability to duck. If it grows in a lawn that is frequently mowed, the flowers are sent out almost horizontally, avoiding in this way to be cut by the lawn mower.

RE-flower 11 (no. 3), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 2), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 4), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

Warts can be combated with its juice, and if you pick it to bring it in as a bouquet, it collapses. The flower closes and the stem becomes limp, as if it will not accept this kind of cultivation.

You learn this as a child.

Since then, I have noticed its ability to duck. If it grows in a lawn that is frequently mowed, the flowers are sent out almost horizontally, avoiding in this way to be cut by the lawn mower.

If you have any doubts, this is the dandelion I am talking about. The Yellow Devil.

Not long ago, I noticed the part of the plant that is not usually visible. It is firmly grounded - it has a tap-root that can be very long. In a cutting from a newspaper I read about a gravedigger posing with a dandelion with a root of no less than 120 cms.

I know I have been after it, too. But it’s over now. Working with this series has changed our relationship. Or rather, the dandelion’s relation to me is probably the same, yet my relation to the dandelion has changed forever: now it is my friend.

It looks like something that has hit a tree and ended up parked in a corner - whose regained focus can be attributed to the coincidences we call life.
June, 2019

RE-flower 11 (no. 3), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 2), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 4), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

RE-flower 11 (no. 6), 2019, print on dibond alu-plade, 40 x 40 cms

Between 1989 and 1991 I travelled to art museums and collections all over Europe.

”From Louisiana in Humlebæk to the Prado Museum in Madrid. From the Uffizies in Florence to Tate Gallery in London”, as stated in in the catalogue The Permanent Collection. Paradox Pictures from 1991. [1]

Museum of Modern Art, Antwerp, Belgium (blue, red), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Aros, Aarhus, Denmark (blue, black, blue), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Museun of Fine Arts, Ghent, Belgium (red, yellow), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Hamburg Kunsthalle, Germany (red, black, yellow,, blue), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Horsens Kunstmuseum, Denmark (blue, red, black), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam, Netherlands (yellow, black, green), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Between 1989 and 1991 I travelled to art museums and collections all over Europe.

”From Louisiana in Humlebæk to the Prado Museum in Madrid. From the Uffizies in Florence to Tate Gallery in London”, as stated in in the catalogue The Permanent Collection. Paradox Pictures from 1991. [1]

I photographed the spaces between the works of art in these museums. If the works of art happened to be visible in my photo, they were cut off. In this way my work was at the same time freed from and formed by tradition and cultural heritage. As indicated in the title of my project.

Yet, this archive of photos from my journeys also formed the base of other projects: The project T.P.C. Revolver from 1992 [2] and not least the sampled masterpieces of the project The Grand Tour from 1994. [3]

It is no secret that I later on – in 2004 – was hit by a mental break-down totally out of my own control.

Now, more than 25 years after these preliminary journeys, I once again went on tour.

I have revisited more than a handful of museums, but this time I did not enter – I walked around.

And I picked whatever I could find: flowers, plants … and arranged it all into a bouquet.
November, 2018

Museum of Modern Art, Antwerp, Belgium (blue, red), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Aros, Aarhus, Denmark (blue, black, blue), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Museun of Fine Arts, Ghent, Belgium (red, yellow), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Hamburg Kunsthalle, Germany (red, black, yellow,, blue), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Horsens Kunstmuseum, Denmark (blue, red, black), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam, Netherlands (yellow, black, green), 2018, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

This series is beauty, so straight forward that I have long been hesitant to take it the next step. Scraps images, where only the trained merchant realizes that there is also something else.

That is how it should be: The pain does not stand in the way of anything, at least not that much, and nothing that is significant. It is a living condition: Hard to get around, but possible to look through.

At the time of writing, the series does not have a name. Should it end up with RE-flower (number) … “number” might be the variable that takes value from the surroundings.

Looking in, but also out, – to take in. In and out. That is how it is.

November, 2017

RE-flower (e23), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-flower (a24), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-flower (b47), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-flower (c26), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower (f12), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower (d20), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

I managed to settle the demons. Mostly. And without the need for medicine.

It is not quite the same as there no longer is something that haunts me, something that annoys me. I have just been good at – so much better at – building proportions that make the conditions operational and manageable. Mostly.

This applies not least to the relationship with myself. Here I have worked hard. Mostly – for there is definitely still room for “vegetating”. I am still very lying down, so it has been since 2004, but it is not the same as being unable to work. Far from.

Mostly Green (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Mostly Purple (no. 1), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Mostly Orange (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Mostly Yellow (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

I managed to settle the demons. Mostly. And without the need for medicine.

It is not quite the same as there no longer is something that haunts me, something that annoys me. I have just been good at – so much better at – building proportions that make the conditions operational and manageable. Mostly.

This applies not least to the relationship with myself. Here I have worked hard. Mostly – for there is definitely still room for “vegetating”. I am still very lying down, so it has been since 2004, but it is not the same as being unable to work. Far from.

This also applies to the relationship with my surroundings. Here I have become more patient and listening. I have become more spacious. For the most part, because I am definitely still challenged: While something is happening out there that looks good or bright, there is at least as much looking stupid.

Moreover, nobody wants to be related to stupidity. Not even if you try to soften and state that it is not necessarily the case all the time, and that the potential for things to be different is present. Mostly.

Summary: Start with yourself. Always :).

The series Mostly has a reference back to one of my other series, T. P. C. Revolver, Chapter I, from 1991 [1]. Here different objects were decomposed as well.

The text of the book then [2], spoke of shredded and granulated objects.

Objects, such as bath salts, breast pads, spark plugs brushes, film negatives, pain killers, nutmeg etc.

The works from back then were also photographs.

October, 2017

[1] http://janskovgard.dk/test33.php

[2] T. P. C. Revolver, 1992, Husets Forlag, ISBN 87-7483-295-6

Mostly Green (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Mostly Purple (no. 1), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Mostly Orange (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Mostly Yellow (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Referring to the text I wrote in connection with the introduction of the Devils series two months ago, when I found out that there might be green devils on my way, I am pleased to be able to add “… And here they are.” :)

I do not think I have anything else to add right now.

Devils 2 (no. 6b), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. 13), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. D), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. 6c), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Referring to the text I wrote in connection with the introduction of the Devils series two months ago, when I found out that there might be green devils on my way, I am pleased to be able to add “… And here they are.” :)

I do not think I have anything else to add right now.

Ps: Now that I have your attention, I would like to ask you a question, presenting you to a small challenge, a question and a task:

When was the last time that you had a pear? Alternatively, an apple? When you take a bite, where are you, where is your focus? On yourself or on the fruit?

Next time try moving your focus, first to yourself and then to the fruit, back and forth, repeatedly.

When you master this exercise, you are ready for the actual task:

The moment you take a bite of a pear, think about the parent tree behind the fruit. Ignore the sound of crushed fruit in your skull and focus on the pear tree in absentia.

...

If we, as cultural carriers, succeed in this little shift, much could look different.
September, 2017

Devils 2 (no. 6b), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. 13), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. D), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Devils 2 (no. 6c), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

Between our property and the sea lies a field. It is as flat as a pancake and with a length of more than 1 kilometer. On both sides the field is held in by windbreaks of conifers having for long seen their best. The area is called The Havskifters and a long time ago it posed as seabed. And seabed it might eventually become once again. :)

Kamille (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Kamille (no. 7), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Kamille (no. 5), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Kamille (no. 1b), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100cms

Farmers have persistently throughout centuries aimed at cultivating the soil, yet still with a poor outcome, just as the field repeatedly is being flooded by seawater.

From our property we have a view to the sea, and half of the year – that is when the farmer does not grow anything in the field – we can cross over to reach the sea. At this time of the year, that is 5 months after harvest, it is still a stubble field. Would you know what it is like to walk in a stubble field? I can tell you, not much is happening. Once in a while there is a bird, and from time to time you scare deer hiding in the windbreaks. But not every time you go there. If I look down into the soil nothing much is at stake here, neither. Except from the stubbles left over from the summer you see almost nothing. Yet, this is where I meet the chamomile. And except from a little lost grain that has germinated and is now growing, the chamomile is the only fresh and green. It is challenging to see it being vital in January when almost everything else has gone into hibernate.

In this part of the field, going out and going home again, I have been thinking. I have been formulating my “manifesto”. A manifesto that does not exist in the form of a unity written down – despite my ambitions. It might as well never happen. Yet, nevertheless, I have decided to have the chamomile make up its visual identity.

January, 2017

Kamille (no. 2), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Kamille (no. 7), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Kamille (no. 5), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100 cms

Kamille (no. 1b), 2017, print on dibond alu-plade, 100 x 100cms

“Tulipan, columbine, french anemone, common hyacinth, roses and marigold.
A little bouquet in an open window. The impossible represented in a unity of time. “

This quotation is taken from my book, The Grand Tour from 1994, presenting my sampled photos of masterpieces from Europe’s art collections and museums.

The quote is originally from another book, I do not remember the title, and describes a floral painting by Ambrosius Bosschaert the Elder (1573 – 1621) “Little bouquet in an arched window”

In Bosschaerts painting something is hidden beneath the surface of obvious beauty: Flowers from all parts of the Dutch colonial rule are brought in, placed in a vase and set to blossom simultaneously. The beautiful flowers as an image of power and wealth.

Now again I refer to the painting. The current series, RE-flower 10, is all bouquets. Beautiful and – as in Bosschaert’s painting – with an ambition of “something more”.

December, 2016

RE-flower 10 (no. 1), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 2), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 6), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 7), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

“Tulipan, columbine, french anemone, common hyacinth, roses and marigold.
A little bouquet in an open window. The impossible represented in a unity of time. “

This quotation is taken from my book, The Grand Tour from 1994, presenting my sampled photos of masterpieces from Europe’s art collections and museums.

The quote is originally from another book, I do not remember the title, and describes a floral painting by Ambrosius Bosschaert the Elder (1573 – 1621) “Little bouquet in an arched window”

In Bosschaerts painting something is hidden beneath the surface of obvious beauty: Flowers from all parts of the Dutch colonial rule are brought in, placed in a vase and set to blossom simultaneously. The beautiful flowers as an image of power and wealth.

Now again I refer to the painting. The current series, RE-flower 10, is all bouquets. Beautiful and – as in Bosschaert’s painting – with an ambition of “something more”.

December, 2016

PS:

The current bouquets partly consist of unspecified plants from “the open land”, and partly of cut flowers from Meny, a nearby convenience store. In contrast to the above quote I have not looked up the names of the respective plants and flowers, but for those of you who do not know the grocery chain Meny, I can say that it was previously called Favorit and later on SuperBest. Perhaps someone can remember how the grocery chain in the years 2009-14 was repeatedly exposed in the media in an unflattering light. Something to do with poor hygiene and repackaging of old meat.

RE-flower 10 (no. 1), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 2), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 6), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 10 (no. 7), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

With this series I am changing the title from RE-flower to RE-paint. From flower to paint. It does not mean that RE-flower is a closed chapter.

RE-paint introduces paint.

The prefix RE refers to the fact that I have been here before, but in contrast to my way of doing things in the ‘90s when I was producing by re-painting and re-photographing my own works, I have no longer a source. I now refer to the act of painting as such. I have done it before, and I will do it again. Had I been able to do it long before, I would have done so.

The series was made in the late autumn, winter approaching rapidly, during the cold months with only little light.

RE-paint ONE (no. 1d), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1b), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1c), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1a), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

With this series I am changing the title from RE-flower to RE-paint. From flower to paint. It does not mean that RE-flower is a closed chapter.

RE-paint introduces paint.

The prefix RE refers to the fact that I have been here before, but in contrast to my way of doing things in the ‘90s when I was producing by re-painting and re-photographing my own works, I have no longer a source. I now refer to the act of painting as such. I have done it before, and I will do it again. Had I been able to do it long before, I would have done so.

The series was made in the late autumn, winter approaching rapidly, during the cold months with only little light.

In one of the pictures I introduce the chamomile, one of very few plants you can find in a stubble field in December. The farmer has sprayed so much that nothing can grow, except from the “chosen” crop. That is the whole idea of spraying. It is called monoculture. But then there was the chamomile defying the herbicide. Perhaps it hides genetically behind the chosen crop; perhaps it just happens to be tough. Who knows – in any case it is beautiful.

And now that I find myself writing I would like to mention something about networks and relations. I am no network artist and I guess that I do not wish to become one. I suffer easily from “art constipation”.

But I like relations – and many of the kind. Without relations I would be lonelier than lonely. I realized that yesterday when we passed by our cottage in Udbyhøj by the Randers Fjord.

Udbyhøj is far away, and we do not have any network there despite having owned the house since 2005. Yet we have relations: a mechanic in Holbæk J who repairs my car; (and) a badger that we have never seen. The badger uses our property when we are not around. We share the property, so to speak. We know that because it ploughs our lawn in the early autumn hunting larvae of the garden chafer. It was there recently, too. Yesterday we saw where it had – probably in vain – been excavating and digging at different locations.

December, 2016

RE-paint ONE (no. 1d), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1b), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1c), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

RE-paint ONE (no. 1a), 2016, print on dibond alu-plade, 80 x 80 cms

The series introduces roses – roses in bags.

One night when I lay awake on-off, as I often do, an image came to my mind, with a reference to Olga Rozanova’s “Green Stripe” from 1918. The subject of my image consisted of horizontal roses in bags with an almost similar green vertical stripe. The rest is what happens if you in the morning still remember – and decide to take action.

A re-flowering with an inherent respectful nod to life as a challenge and a “positive” to life in general, both the trivial, the mysterious one as well as the one past understanding.

Juni, 2015

RE-flower 8 (no. 5), 2015, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 8 (no. 1), 2015, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 8 (no. 4a), 2015, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 8 (no. 10), 2015, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

The image speaks for itself.

We look at the image and expect / demand that it always generously communicates its surplus.

It is a fine ambition – mine, too.

Nevertheless, in the midst of this consumption, I have been playing with a thought. A mind game.

What if the opposite were possible. Suppose the act was reversed: The image looks at us.

As either a mirror or just that it can actually see. As if, I was in there and looked out. What would I see?

A picture of a flower, a plant. A picture of flowers and plants.

The image speaks for itself.

December, 2014

RE-flower 7 (no. 2a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-flower 7 (no. 5), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-flower 7 (no. 6), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-flower 7 (no. 12), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 70 x 70 cms

Plants and metal.

When I say plants, I had hoped to be able to say flowers. I thought it was flowers. But a little Google searching revealed that it was plants on plants, red algae on a host: Red algae, macro-algae or just seaweed.

Life, both the casual and the sublime version, is full of these kinds of misassumptions and derived fallacies.

But it is metal.
...

RE-flower 6 (no. 10a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 4a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 3a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 9a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Plants and metal.

When I say plants, I had hoped to be able to say flowers. I thought it was flowers. But a little Google searching revealed that it was plants on plants, red algae on a host: Red algae, macro-algae or just seaweed.

Life, both the casual and the sublime version, is full of these kinds of misassumptions and derived fallacies.

But it is metal.
...

When I go by plane, and therefore have to go through the security check that followed Nine Eleven, I am always getting special attention: Friendly, but attentive. It’s probably not that common to see this scale of internal metal and implants.

All that metal was not planned.

During the process I needed something to hold the plants. In the kitchen I found a piece of bent steel wire. A piece used by my family to secure the apartment. Keeping the key in the door to the back stairs from being pushed in from the outside, when we were away for a longer period, – a kind of theft protection.

Nor were the red algae planned.

I am by the sea almost every day. I am on the water several times a week. I grew up by the sea. And one day at the beach in all the washed up seaweed I saw something purple. I had seen it before, as one sees so much. But over a few days it grew to become an asset... In my mind I saw some monochrome purple images.

This is often how it starts. An idea catches a resonance, and a desire is awakened. I had an idea of monochromes and the colour purple. From there starts a process, which may be more or less bumpy.

When I saw the first take, I felt uncomfortable. I felt bad, and the night was restless. But over the following days normalization occurred.

It must be mentioned that I am familiar with abrupt nights.

Now I like them – ambivalent, but no more complex than what is known from other contexts of loving.

They are simple and beautiful, but if you want to you can also find the story of the bent nail that has been straightened. And the many coincidences of Life. There is a line from this series back to series like RE-weed, RE-rokke, Roots and RE-vival, but I can look back all the way to the Stone series (1995) and the Crane video from 1993.

February, 2014

RE-flower 6 (no. 10a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 4a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 3a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

RE-flower 6 (no. 9a), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

It might have been flowers. Flowers are okay. I like flowers.

It’s just not the season.

But this isn’t so crazy. There is so much that can be utilized. Much is useful.

And flourishing is still on the agenda.

Lying down, jumping from stone to stone.

Eyes, brain and heart …

In the reprise you might notice the green.

SPOBT.

Small parts of bigger things.

January, 2014

RE-flower 5 (no. 5), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

RE-flower 5 (no. 6), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

RE-flower 5 (no. 4), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

RE-flower 5 (no. 8), 2014, print on dibond alu-plade, 140 x 140 cms

As the title states – it is not the first time I work with flowers.

I like flowers.

Yet, it is the word itself – re-flower – that I have adopted.

I often and readily use the prefix – RE – when speaking of my objects, my art.

But RE-flower is more than a title. It fits my history, my body and mind, like when an organism has success with a transplanted organ. It has been adopted.

RE-flower 4 (no. 1), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 150 x 150 cms

RE-flower 4 (no. 5), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 150 x 150 cms

As the title states – it is not the first time I work with flowers.

I like flowers.

Yet, it is the word itself – re-flower – that I have adopted.

The series ”RE-flower 4” consists of flowers and sticks. Sticks and flowers.

Sticks:

There is a frame-painting [1] from 1989 of which the frame consisted of black buckets kept in position only by long sticks. Destroyed, yet reproduced in the catalogue Red Herring [2].

There is also the large raft with handicap-paintings [3] from the exhibition at the Centre for Contemporary Art, Kunstbygningen, Aarhus 2007, where I was invited to be part of the exhibition ”Ø” [4] arranged by the art group Guirlanden.

This ”raft” would never have been able to stand without sticks.

And finally: Sticks [5] from 2011. The coloured sticks I had found.

Flowers:

In 1991 I made a painting [6], a re-painting of a screen-print that I had made in 1987 when I stayed at the St. Restrup Folk High School. The motif was a chestnut flower that I found in the neighbourhood.

There is the picture with the three hovering bunches of flowers [7] from 2004, a present for my oldest daughter, Liv. All the flowers have been photographed in our garden through the years.

There are also the sampled pictures from 1992 – The Grand Tour [8].

Photos of the masterpieces of art belonging to European museums assembled into one picture.

I consider all these ´”collections” to be bouquets, works that I have picked and arranged in virtual collections.

On the cover of the book you see a flower-painting [9], a section of a painting by Ambrosius Bosschaert [10].

In the preface I wrote: Tulip, columbine, French anemone, common hyacinth, roses, crocus and marigold. A little bouquet in an open window. The impossible represented in a unity of time.

The flower-paintings of the past were a symbiosis of innate beauty and power. Flowers collected from all over the world and cultivated into human liberation.

RE-flower 4 forms part of a communication. Beauty is still around, – plus gratitude and something more.
November, 2012

RE-flower 4 (no. 1), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 150 x 150 cms

RE-flower 4 (no. 5), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 150 x 150 cms

Weed. More weed. Most weed.

The organic material comes from my vacant building sites, the masking tape from the hardware store.

Plants organized in horizontal bands as far as they wish.

But, in fact, they are not horizontal; – I am lying down …

From there I see all the beauty – and all the rest.

RE-weed (no. 1), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 3b), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 4), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 4b), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Weed. More weed. Most weed.

The organic material comes from my vacant building sites, the masking tape from the hardware store.

The plants are organized in horizontal bands as far as they wish.

But, in fact, they are not horizontal; – I am lying down …

From there I see all the beauty – and all the rest.

I also see a direct reference to the series RE-thinking from 2009.

As well as to a number of sculptures that I made back in 1994-97 when I was living in NYC. Sculptures that have never been published nor exhibited.

Being a member of the Sebago Canoe Club in southern Brooklyn I had my own state-of-the-art carbon kayak. A tippy thing, fast, with a dreamy glide.

I paddled many miles in Jamaica Bay in that racer. I also produced some sculptures using my kayak as a podium. On location.

I reaped the rushes along the banks of the Paerdegat Basin. Bundled them and made arrangements on top of the back deck of my kayak.

The series RE-weed forms part of my long-standing project, Stella. The originally 5 (now 4 – I sold one) vacant building sites that I acquired after my trauma in 2004 being influenced by medicine, among other things: antidepressants.
October, 2012

RE-weed (no. 1), 2012 print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 3b), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 4), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

RE-weed (no. 4b), 2012, print on dibond alu-plade, 110 x 110 cms

Grab the stalk and pull.

There are those that refuse to budge.

Some may not surrender. Some will break…

Others come with roots.

Smack the soil against the soil and flip it. Turn it upside down.

Will it grow again?

It does not look like the green luxuriant and wide open spaces of your dreams.

But it is this kind of ”stuff” meadows are made of.

Backwards capability has been left in benefit of possibility. Look less backwards and you will be looking forward.

Roots is part of my Stella project, nowadays four partly empty sites in Northern Jutland.
November, 2011

Roots (no. 1), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Roots (no. 2), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Roots (no. 3), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

Roots (no. 4), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 60 x 60 cms

I am aware that it looks like some kind of a decorated branch. But it is not.

Much does not appear to be what it truly is.

It does not look like what I want it to, neither.

I have a problem – in this respect it is alike.

I am aware that I do not do quite what I want to do. Something has been left unfulfilled. Can you see it?

It is called Horsetail or Bottlebrush. In Danish: Padderokke.

A plant that, as it seems to me, does not fit in with what one would expect to find in the open land.

Perhaps it is this, that I can use …
November, 2011

RE-rokke (no. 1), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-rokke (no. 3), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-rokke (no. 7), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-rokke (no. 8), 2011, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

The series is a parenthesis, an intermezzo with lines going back to e.g. the STONE-series (The Couch Potato Panel) [1].

The series is different from what I usually do in the respect that I am the motif, and that the “scenario” has been caught by someone else.

I have not been part of the motif since 1989 when a photo [2] of a situation in which I was playing ball was taken.

July, 2009

RE-thinking (no. 3), 2009, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-thinking (no. 5), 2009, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-thinking (no. 1), 2009, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms

RE-thinking (no. 4), 2009, print on dibond alu-plade, 50 x 50 cms