Roses and Myrtles 1876

Editor: Right, next up we have “Roses and Myrtles,” an 1876 oil painting by O.D. Ottesen, currently held at the SMK. It strikes me as simultaneously inviting and somewhat melancholic, like a beautiful bouquet left in a dimly lit room. What story do you think Ottesen is trying to tell here? Curator: Oh, isn't it delicious? Those dusky pinks against that almost sinister green...For me, it whispers secrets of bourgeois parlors, filled with the scent of dying blooms and hushed anxieties. Think of the Victorian obsession with floral symbolism! Each bloom, each leaf, laden with unspoken meaning. Editor: Unspoken meaning, right! I never thought of that. The Victorians really loved that kind of symbolic representation, didn’t they? So what might roses and myrtle mean here, beyond the obvious beauty? Curator: Well, roses, of course, speak of love – passion, affection, all the thorny complexities in between. Myrtle, though...that's a more subtle language. Often linked to innocence, immortality, and enduring love. Could Ottesen be suggesting a bittersweet contrast? A vibrant passion tempered by the promise of everlasting affection...or perhaps, the threat of its loss? Editor: Hmm, "threat of its loss..." That dark background and slightly fading roses definitely point to a kind of morbidity too. Curator: Absolutely. I wonder, do you find that contrast more affecting precisely because of that subtle tension he creates? The push and pull between romantic ideal and the realities of life. Editor: Yes, the interplay is unexpectedly captivating. I came in thinking floral painting equals pretty equals simple. But I now realize there’s a dark secret hidden beneath these roses, and Ottesen does know his plants well, doesn't he? Curator: Absolutely. It just confirms how little attention I sometimes give these still lifes, and they end up really blossoming when properly considered.