Walking into the Henie Onstad Art Centre’s exhibition “Mot det moderne” is a rich and wonderful experience. Here, Christian Skredsvig’s moody picturesque world unfolds in full width. ON ARRIVAL: The first thing that meets us is a large group of self-portraits. The juxtaposition is incredibly fascinating because it looks like the pictures depict very different people. The press release describes Skredsvig’s sense of his own identity as “volatile and changeable”. Just as he liked to paint himself in different ways, he must also have liked to stage himself in different types of roles in life. While in one situation he could refer to his simple background and call himself a miller’s son, in another context he could present himself as a baron. Not all of these portraits are equally masterfully painted. He generally has a problem with making the various elements fit into the whole. There’s a lot of weird anatomy out there. He is regularly most concerned with the face, and often there is a somewhat unclear connection between head and body. Several of the portraits also have a strange placement in the format. Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Art Center Skredsvig was both a plein air painter and an atmospheric romantic: an artist who at the end of the 19th century quickly won recognition both at home and abroad. This year marks one hundred years since his death. SUCCESSFUL: This portrait is one of the better ones. This is quite accomplished in the way of painting. He has a nice diagonal composition, and his gaze has life and presence. He has fine coloristic contrasts and harmonies, but some of the color spots on the hat do not explain the shape, but remain on the outside of the shape as spots. But perhaps it was meant as paint stains on the artist’s hat? Christian Skredsvig: “Self-portrait” (1886). Photo: Oslo museum Fleskumsommeren The exhibition shows a section with pictures from the fabled Fleskumsommeren. Christian Skredsvig and his wife Maggie Plahte invited some of the greatest artists of the time to spend the summer of 1886 with them at the idyllic Dælivannet at Fleskum farm in Bærum. Here Kitty Kielland, Erik Werenskiold, Gerhard Munthe, Eilif Pettersen and Harriet Backer depicted the clear summer light, the blue twilight hour and the pale summer night. In art history, it is said that this is where the neo-romantic mood painting originated. That Skredsvig as host and facilitator played a decisive role in this context is absolutely certain, but when they describe him as “… the most important of the Fleskum artists”, it is rather startling. Perhaps he was the one who at the time had the most wind in his sails commercially, but picturesquely he is no match for Harriet Backer, Kitty Kielland or Eilif Peterssen. DOESN’T WORK: Here the image surface falls apart. There are beautiful and evocative parts, nice details, but as a whole it doesn’t work. Among other things, this is due to the division of the image surface into a light and a dark part. It is unclear how this should be read. What should the brown field behind the lady in the boat be understood as? Is it the reflection of a mountainside in the water, or is it simply the bank of mud and soil? The details on the railing are depicted almost photo-realistically, while the background is almost abstract. He also has great difficulty with the anatomy here. It doesn’t look like the left arm is on the body. The torso is twisted in relation to the lower body, and how does she actually sit with her legs? If she has them crossed, it’s hard to believe that her left leg is attached to her hip. Christian Skredsvig: “Golden clouds.” Evening on the lake” (1892). Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Kunstsenter The differences in quality are clearly visible. However, the exhibition at Høvikodden gives us a golden chance to assess just this: In a separate section dedicated to the Fleskum circle, Skredsvig’s pictures are placed side by side with the aforementioned artists. Here, the difference in picturesque quality is very clear. See, for example, how holistically and strongly shaped Kitty Kielland treats her subject in “Summer Night”: GOOD NIGHT: Here we see what a formidable painter Kitty Kielland is. She captures the mood of the night without creating a snarky, detailed reality report. Kitty Kielland, “Summer Night” (1886). Photo: Børre Høstland / The National Museum This is a masterly and individualized painting. There is nothing in the image that breaks up the surface; the reflection is painted in much the same way as the sky. If we compare with Skredsvig’s “Sankthansaften på Dælivannet” or “Golden clouds. The evening on the lake”, we see that he struggles much more with creating a holistic painterly expression. NOT BELIEVABLE: This is a strange composition in which he has not completed the surface in the same painting style. There are things about the characterization that do not seem entirely believable. The accordion completely lacks volume. It is very flat and oddly executed. Christian Skredsvig: “Sankthansaften på Dælivannet” (1886). Photo: Jakob Skou-Hansen / Statens museum for art, Copenhagen He oscillates between different types of idiom and degrees of stylization, which causes the picture surface to dissolve. The figures appear to have been cut out and pasted into the landscape. POSTCARD 1: When I look at this very famous painting by Skredsvig, I think a little of a postcard. Christian Skredsvig: “From Seville” (1882). Photo: Børre Høstland / The National Museum POSTCARD 2: This again borders on postcards. Strongly idyllic as it is. Christian Skredsvig: “Jupsjøen IX” (1902). Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Art Center HULL: The water is dark and I don’t perceive the reflection of the sky as part of the water surface. It becomes more of a hole in the picture, an opening towards something bright. The painting would have been more complete without this. Christian Skredsvig: “Tjærn, summer evening I” (1897). Photo: Børre Høstland / Sparebanken Øst More dubious claims and assumptions The exhibition revolves around several rather dubious claims. One of them connects to Munch and Skredsvig’s stay on the French Riviera in the winter of 1891–92. Here they lived in the same house, and it is possible that they also painted side by side, as is stated in the wall text in the hall where pictures of them both hang. But the paintings are in no way “… confusingly alike”, as is sensationally claimed. THE MASTER: Look at Munch’s painting here: Everything sits flat, and everything is done with the same brushstroke in a fresh and muted colour. Edvard Munch: “Moonlit night by the Mediterranean” (1892). Photo: Børre Høstland / The National Museum It cannot be compared at all to Skredsvig’s somewhat postcard-like “Landscape from the Riviera” with which it is juxtaposed. I have little faith that there will have been any mutual influence here, as is more than hinted at in the exhibition. BADLY DONE: This is not nice for Skredsvig! Why do they have to compare him with Edvard Munch? After all, he is doomed to come out very badly from such a combination. Christian Skredsvig: “Landscape from the Riviera” (1892). Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Kunstsenter Water Lilies It is even less likely that Skredsvig’s art should have inspired the towering French impressionist Claude Monet to paint his water lilies. Admittedly, this is not presented as an assertion, but is aired more as a thought or a possibility in a wall text where several of Skredsvig’s painterly studies of water with water lilies are shown. But also through this reflection, Skredsvig’s importance is greatly exaggerated. SKREDSVIG’S LILIES: This could have been one of Skredsvig’s very best pictures, if he had cut away the flowers in the foreground. The landscape itself is rarely fine and thoroughly painted. Here he has managed to create a believable mirror that fits into the whole of the painting. He conjures up a magical and evocative atmosphere with the pale sky, and the darkness of the night that is condensed in the mountains and forest behind. Unfortunately, the water lilies in the foreground become a very trivializing element that also makes the image fall apart. Christian Skredsvig: “Water lilies, Dælivann” (1890). Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Kunstsenter I hardly think that the great Claude Monet was inspired by Christian Skredsvig. I think he got his inspiration from nature itself. MONET’S LILIES: Why do these flowers become banal elements in Skredsvig, and not in Monet? Partly it is of course about the French Impressionist’s powerful artistic talent, but also about the role flowers play in the painting. While Skredsvig brushes out each petal and creates flowers that appear to be part of a botanical tableau, Monet is not concerned with the water lily as such, he only uses the flowers as a starting point for a painterly investigation. It’s about exploring light and color. Claude Monet: “Water Lilies” (1906). Photo: Art Institute of Chicago Misplacement The fact that Christian Skredsvig is not as good as the very best does not of course mean that he is a bad or uninteresting artist. If he was not such a great shaper, he was, in return, a skilled colourist. And here I think this exhibition does Skredsvig a serious disservice. The fact that they consistently misplace him in the art historical hierarchy deprives us of the opportunity to celebrate and pay tribute to him for all that he was and could do as an artist. Instead, it becomes necessary to bring him down, and emphasize what made him fall short. I think that is an incredible shame! news reviewer Photo: Øystein Thorvaldsen / Henie Onstad Art Center Title: “Christian Skredsvig: Towards the modern” Curators: Victor Plahte Tschudi, Øystein Sjåstad and Caroline Ugelstad Location: Henie Onstad Art Center, Bærum Period: 8 November–2 March 2025 Recommended time : 50–70 minutes Published 12.11.2024, at 14.24
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“Christian Skredsvig – towards the modern” at Henie Onstad Art Center – Reviews and recommendations
