Verdigris

(2024)

120 x 150 cm: mixed media on canvas.

Sold.

The finished painting, inside the hall of a long-closed fish factory at the port of Hvide Sande.

Inspiration can come from many places and be more or less concrete . . . .

The copper plating here—on the old Gedser Rev lightship, currently on land at Hvide Sande Shipyard—is one of the more concrete sources of inspiration that immediately made me want to play with patina and rust, and the quite wonderful interplay of colors in the various shades of brown and blue-green.

Just as scents, moods, and music can trigger emotions that can suddenly transport you back to a completely different place and time, the colors, textures, and reflection of light on a tarnished and worn surface can give you a glimpse of a completely different story.

I typically build my paintings in many complementary layers, which I then destroy and often remove a good portion of again. The layers and the destroyed surfaces add a certain complexity to a given painting, which will hopefully lead your eyes astray and perhaps also expand the time you are in when you look at the painting. Time doesn't necessarily have to be linear, you know.

Long-winded . . . ? Maybe. . . . .

Then of course you can also just settle for seeing it as a different, raw, and stylish wall decoration. As always when we talk about art, there are no right or wrong answers.

(The word verdigris—by the way—comes from the Old French vert-de-Grice, which literally means green of Greece, as this color was often associated with ancient Greek and Roman art and architecture).