A Better Place: A Verdant View of Norway

I favor working in black and white. Pencil and charcoal are the best media for making my information packed illustrations and gestural figurative work. But public sentiment requires color and a certain sweetness, especially if an artist is to remain solvent.

So today I finished a large oil painting which I have entitled "A Better Place." It is too sentimental for my taste but hopefully someone will be moved to acquire it. This would seem to be more likely than finding a collector for my drawing, "My Wee Brain Sampler," posted earlier. But I am often surprised at what clients may or may not like. People do collect my complex drawings - just not as often as my oil landscapes.

The title for this painting, "A Better Place," is purposely ambiguous. Initially it seemed to be literally a better place for it is based upon a scene I came across in Norway last summer. "A Better Place" dovetails with the old saw about "the grass being greener," in one’s neighbor’s yard. Norway in the summer was lush and verdant, though. We were present at a good time to take a break from the heat, both in the literal climate and in the heat of the social/political life of the United States. I spent time talking to Norwegians about their lives and work. Coming from the United States, it was difficult not to be envious of six weeks of paid vacation a year, paid maternity leave, paid child care, free college and universal health care.

Norway seemed a better place for the country’s commitment to renewable energy and reduction in waste. This was quite clear in even the most mundane daily experiences like having breakfast in a hotel lobby. There were no plastic, paper or Styrofoam utensils. Instead there were ceramic plates and silverware - all washed to be reused the next day. There were no packaged goods. A freshly baked loaf of bread with a cloth over it graced the serving table, guests cutting off the slices that they needed. What a contrast this was to the post breakfast bulging bags of plates and utensils in an American hotel or service center.

So there was this memory of Norway that informed the title "A Better Place." A place that seemed clean and humanitarian. Of course it is always wise to remember that this visit was during a summer vacation. Who knows what sentiments a long, dark winter would bring, or that strange feeling of isolation that being apart from one’s native land stirs. So "A Better Place" is something of hyperbole, in its verdant and sanguine beckoning.

"A Better Place," because of its empty chairs, could be interpreted as referring to that colloquial expression for departed souls having moved on to "a better place." I am not religious, so it took me a while to realize that a viewer could interpret the work in this way. But I have no qualms about such an interpretation if it gives someone comfort.