Stockholm, the oldest photo still preserved is from 1826. During the second part of the 19th century there was a lot of experimenting within photography aiming to find materials for reproducing positive pictures. They tried salt paper, albumin paper and carbon prints. And lots more, before silver chloride and silver bromide were developed as more persistent materials.
Newspapers by that time, and earlier, were illustrated with drawings. War and dispair, accidents and catastrophes were drawn by hand. Good drawings were rich of details and engaging to look at. Many artists were active as newspaper illustrators, for example Goya, the great Spanish painter.
When walking around at the National Museum I think of this. Just now here is a great exhibition with works by the so called Prerafael Brotherhood, PRB, a British school of this time. A photographic way of detailed painting, often inspired of classic themes as jealousy, illness and dramatic death. The paintings are rich of symbols like a broken window, flowers thrown away in the gutter, beautiful red apples...
This connection in time will not alone explain the manner of painting. But part of it, I am sure. Free thoughts and values individually expressed are woven like threads together with other threads composing the web of the time being. Things are connected, reciprocally explained.
Hannäs, Sweden, 10 degrees Celsius plus, light winds. Something happens to the Swede. I feel like the lapwing looping and calling up there above my head, like the couple of cranes curiously scratching the field over there, like the chaffinch who has something to tell us from inside the bushes. And like the white-tailed eagle, cool and relaxed, circling around up there in nice thermals.
Barcelona, Fundació Joan Miró, high up on Montjuïc is this huge museum with white walls, big windows and spacy openings. Everywhere are groups of children, sitting close to each other on the floor in front of a painting, silent with big eyes, while the teacher whispering tells the story of a painting. Or walking. The art of Group Walking is exercised on the terrace. Like a centipede the children coil around. A living piece of art. One of the best.
Tokyo, we enter one of the big department stores in Ginza at opening time in the morning. We are the very first customers. At the end of every counter a welldressed seller in service stands in strict attention welcoming us with eye contact, a pleasant smile and a gentle bow. Good morning Mr President, my imagination sings, and I gently smile back.
