Recently I heard bits of a short interview with a man who went to 365 art exhibitions last year. He had been to some 200 exhibitions in the previous two years or so and thought he could easily do one a day. That’s quite an achievement! From what I heard I assume he lived somewhere closer to the center of Helsinki where all the galleries are. I live in a city that doesn’t even feel like a city, it’s more like a collection of villages. There’s no real centre and there really aren’t that many galleries around. The ones there are, are scattered around. What a load of excuses :-) There is a museum of modern art and I'm complaining.
I did go to an exhibition today, to see Anita Snellman’s paintings in Amos Anderson. My parents had two paintings by her and I was curious to see if they were in the exhibition. They weren’t. I almost had a painting by her, myself. Maybe 30 years ago I bought a small painting of pomegranates, in strong, vibrant reds. Then she called me saying she just couldn’t sell that painting, she couldn’t part with it. Surely I understood? Argh. At this exhibition, there was an old TV documentary where the reader said that Snellman really didn’t want to sell many of her paintings. Unless they were in exhibitions, when she normally sold out.
She’s known for her vibrant colours, but the painting that caught my eye was a still life in what I guess could be called white on white, using a very limited palette. That interests me, a limited palette. I like to work with just a few colours, often complementary colours or close to complementary colours.
I saw the film Mr Turner last week. Mr Turner communicated mostly by grunts. I was expecting to get some sort of inspiration for my own painting, which I didn't. I did learn that I should always carry a sketchbook with me and actually sketch as well. It was a good film, very turneresque scenery, don't get me wrong, just not what I was expecting.
Our little watercolour group, Akvarelli Akatemia, had an exhibition end of November, beginning of December. I had four series of paintings: Stadi, paintings of old buildings in the centre of Helsinki; Colours; Frutta e verdura; and Found when packing for my move.
When painting the Frutta e verdura ones I painted similar motifs as twelve years ago. Like pears. The pears I painted now are very different to the ones I painted earlier. An artist friend smiled and said, ”That’s called progress.”
Frutta e verdura
Found when packing for my move
I'm Piisa and I will be sharing with you my thoughts on this and that, maybe even on whatever.