Skagen. Storm 1900

Editor: We’re looking at “Skagen. Storm,” a print made around 1900 by Carl Locher. It’s an engraving, rendered in blacks and whites that create such an intense atmosphere. The tiny figures seem so vulnerable against the immensity of the sea and sky. What story do you think this piece is trying to tell? Curator: It's interesting you pick up on vulnerability. I feel it too. Locher, deeply entrenched in the Skagen art colony, captures not just a storm but a state of being. Look how he uses intaglio to etch the relentless energy of the waves and those looming clouds! They feel biblical, don’t they? A tiny David against a Goliath of nature. Editor: Absolutely. And is there something specific about the Northern Renaissance style here, beyond just the date? Curator: The Northern Renaissance connection whispers of detailed realism and a somber tone. But what Locher adds is a sense of immediacy. You can almost taste the salt spray, hear the wind howling. It’s less about pristine landscapes and more about the raw encounter. Do you see how the horizon line kind of disappears into the storm? Editor: Yes, it blurs. Almost like the people in the boats and the single figure standing on the rock become one with the natural environment. Curator: Exactly! There's this fusion of human experience and the sublime power of the natural world. This tiny scene is very evocative. And the monochromatic medium throws light on the drama of survival. He doesn’t shy away from darkness—both literal and perhaps metaphorical. Editor: It makes you think about our place in the grand scheme of things, doesn't it? Both beautiful and terrifying. Curator: Precisely! That’s the charm of realism: the chance to stop time, question our insignificance and revel in that moment of clarity amidst the chaos. It definitely sparked some thinking about how little has changed about this relationship to nature.