Showing posts from August, 2015

The Tree of Life?

Tomorrow my Father shall be taken to the unit, Respirationscenter Øst (RCØ), which specializes in respiration; in his case the ventilator he needs to stay alive. While a yearly check on his vital equipment may sound well and good, this time we have a horrifying prospect before us: His doctor has declared him unfit to live, with the specification that he is too costly for society to be kept alive.
Now, my Father has been absolutely clear from the onset of his ALS-diagnosis that he wishes to be here for as long as there is life. Which is a deep-rooted sentiment in our family and we all stand by him in his decision.
These years assisted suicide is being widely discussed here, being seen in a romantic light by many as an easy (dubbed the "dignified") way out of an "impossible" situation when ill. Our family is experiencing the aspects of what that may entail once allowed. 
Seeing ventilators/respirators are machines which may be turned off, the doctors are slipping as…

But, Why Daddy, Why?

Ida Felicia Noack chose Valdemar Andersen when she was preparing her contribution for the cartoonists' exhibition at this year's Copenhagen Comics. The exhibition challenged the cartoonists of today to each draw a predecessor, interpreting him or her in the successor's own line and telling the story of what made this particular cartoonist stand out. 
Since Valdemar Andersen is known for his ethereal ink line, making his figures first and foremost art rather giving them a solid presence before us, and adding to this women and children as his preferred subjects, Ida Felicia initially toyed with the idea of entering into a dialogue with him to the point that he would be the one to transform her into his image rather than the other way round.
The idea proved too time-consuming, but her final contribution proved all the more fascinating in that she rotated the figure we have known for more than 100 years, so that we see her face, hearing her speak, accentuating that however eth…

Orderly Disorder or The Other Way Around

Misling, one of quite a few extraordinary cats we have had the priviledge of seeing on this blog, was discussing Carl Larsson last year, whether Valdemar Andersen may have been influenced by him. By the time I joined the discussion, I could only add that we have no proof of any direct contact between the two.

But the seed was sown with a feeling that Misling was right.

Carl Larsson was a household name in Scandinavia right before and after 1900 having depicted all levels of daily life in his home and family to a degree that his work to this day seems the epitome of an ideal childhood. Children in rumpled play-clothes in a home in which every corner is decorated by their own parents, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere and where sun seems to be always shining.

Of course Valdemar knew his Carl Larsson. And to a greater degree than I had thought, once I took a closer look at the latter with Valdemar in mind.

Carl Larsson and Valdemar Andersen both worked across the very decade when S…


This is just a note of a blog post to explain why I am offline from time to time. My Father is paralyzed from ALS and on a ventilator. Last Saturday he suffered what was possibly a brain hemorrhage and has since fought his way back to life, regaining consciousness. He is at home as he wishes to be and we have been by him day and night. Hence the brevity here.

So for now but one observation first made back when my Mother was ill; how adjusting her in bed would bring on flashes of canvases by the old masters. Artists before our time knew the human body. Cutting into corpses to study the exact placing of a muscle was one thing, their familiarity with the human body in all parts of life quite another and all more powerful as part and parcel of their personal experience. They brought that understanding onto the canvas and into the stone; In Europe epitomized in the body of Christ placing his martyred body before us to react with compassion. When my Mother was ill I would catch myself whis…
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