Last week was a revelation. It goes without saying that I was hoping and expecting to see plenty and to enjoy much during our week in Norway, but I truly had no inkling just how many layers of discovery would be waiting for me.
Don’t you find that a big part of travel is keeping your eyes peeled for the unexpected? Familiarity may tend to let such sights melt into the woodwork for locals, yet it’s exactly those choice visual details which elevate a tourist’s experience. Reviewing my photos at the end of each day, threads of connection begin to surface, and it’s something of a game to find the basis for future blog posts among them. In fact, I’ve learned that keeping my “week after” post in the back of my mind as we travel is an unexpectedly fortuitous lens for noticing and appreciating the nuances of new places.
This trip provided plenty to work with, to the point where I could potentially write a full month’s-worth of posts. The challenge is in paring down; I’ve compiled everything into a two-parter. This week highlights the fluid line that seemed to waver between the mundane and the monumental, and the indisputable fact that Norwegians seem to value living amidst art. The smallest details loom large, so that the measure of what one sees doesn’t hinge on size or function.
Vigeland Sculpture Park in Oslo is beyond remarkable, including over 200 sculptures in bronze, granite, and cast iron, all created by Gustav Vigeland (1869-1943). The huge scope is mind-boggling, yet it is the intimacy and depth of humanity his work portrays that stopped me in my tracks. Take a moment to look at the facial expressions and body language of the figures below; there is something of all of us there to recognize.
Public art appears everywhere, on both broad and intimate scales. To me, it tells a side story about the communities who live with it, painting a more complete picture for those of us who are temporary guests.
A trip to the Ski Museum and Tower at Holmenkollen held a special treat beyond the views. This exhibition of dresses created from repurposed traditional Norwegian sweaters set my knitting heart aflutter…to the same degree as peering down the steep ski jump.
Come back next week for visits to the Munch and Kode Museums — a more formal view of Nordic art that is anything but stuffy.
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One final note: In a sense, travel is a forced interruption of work patterns that often leads to unexpected break-throughs in the studio after returning. It’s an effect that always seems to crop up for me in one way or another. Therefore, it was a sort of kismet to learn about Alex Soojung-Kim Pang’s book Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less on a podcast during the flight home. I have it on hold at the library and will let you know what I find out.