Kamelien 1955

Editor: This is "Kamelien" or "Camellias" by Helen Dahm, made in 1955. It's a pastel painting, and there's something so intimate about the scale and the swirling colours; it feels like you're peering into a secret garden. What captures your attention most when you look at this? Curator: Oh, the immediacy of it! It's like a memory of a garden, rather than a portrait. The deep pink almost vibrates, and those camellias seem to hover, don't they? They’re rendered in such a tactile way, you almost feel like you could brush your hand against the velvety petals. Dahm’s work often explored her inner world, almost like visual poems. Does it evoke anything particular for you? Editor: It does have a dreamy quality! And the contrast between the dark leaves and pale blossoms is striking. I’m wondering, do you think this captures a specific moment, or is it more about capturing the essence of the camellia? Curator: I lean towards essence. Think of Georgia O’Keeffe, but with a bit more wildness and looseness! It’s about feeling the flower, internalising its beauty, and letting it spill out onto the page. Look how the pastel strokes dance around the forms. What do you think Dahm wants to convey with this frenetic movement? Editor: I think it's freedom. The way she hasn’t constrained herself by precise realism mirrors the uncontained growth of nature itself. Curator: Exactly! It reminds us to trust our intuition and not get bogged down in the details. Art should be lived and felt, much like nature itself! I came into this thinking of composition and negative space but will leave seeing so much joy.