Haukat Metsässä 

Editor: Right now, we're looking at "Hawks in the Forest" by Eero Järnefelt. The artwork doesn't have a listed date, and it looks like it was created with tempera, watercolor, and gouache. The subdued colors make it feel kind of ominous to me. One of the hawks even looks…well, maybe unwell? What catches your eye? Curator: Well, it’s more than just ‘hawks in a forest,’ isn't it? Look at the textures! The roughness of the rock face against the soft plumage. It's like the artist wants us to *feel* the weight of those birds, and their connection to the unforgiving landscape. The hawk with its face towards us looks alive and expressive and then we have the other one lying still. Gives you pause, doesn’t it? It evokes that silence you only get in nature, right before everything kicks off. Does it make you feel anxious? Or…what emotion do you see in this composition? Editor: Definitely a little anxious, the stillness of the forest feels tense somehow! Curator: Exactly! Järnefelt wasn’t just painting pretty birds. He was exploring something primal, don’t you think? This struggle and precariousness is reflected even further, in his delicate treatment of watercolor that can almost fool one to think of monumental events as ephemeral, at best. Editor: I see what you mean! There's more going on than meets the eye. I came in thinking of the setting, but I now appreciate the almost visceral immediacy with which the bird's conditions hit you. Curator: I couldn't agree more. And that immediacy invites contemplation about the fragile, tenuous threads tying us all together, both to each other, and to our natural origins.