Stille vejr 1870

Curator: Vilhelm Kyhn's "Stille vejr," dating back to 1870. It’s currently held here at the SMK, created as an etching. Editor: My first impression is how incredibly still this image is. It’s almost eerie, with the muted tones and the way everything just… hangs there. What is it about that quietness that grabs you? Curator: Well, Kyhn was deeply invested in capturing the essence of the Danish landscape. He wanted to show its true character, its soul, beyond mere picturesque views. This image captures something about the Northern temperament, a melancholy almost, reflected in those heavy clouds. The symbols of ships might point towards maritime prosperity, but with a palpable feeling of remoteness, or being away, far from home. Editor: You’ve pointed at an intriguing paradox between commerce and longing, especially as ships historically connect to voyages and the unknown, don’t they? In this print, the composition has only a few elements, giving those sailing ships the full capacity to represent the human yearn for travelling. Plus the title "Stille vejr" or ‘Still weather’ makes me think of a painting, evoking the sense of a Dutch still life from the Golden Age, so laden with symbolism, even when superficially domestic and quaint. Curator: It's about visual storytelling, isn't it? Etching lends itself particularly well to this because it allows such fine detail. Look at how he's rendered the water; it's almost like tiny whispers. It feels realistic but idealized, charged with a very controlled emotion. The symbolism and technique almost perfectly converge. I see someone deeply in love with a certain place, finding new ways to look at it. Editor: Absolutely, you feel his personal attachment and the historical continuum—linking an immediate environment with tradition through carefully chosen images. And as an etching, there is an impressive balance of detail and atmosphere, giving the impression of both intimacy and vastness. One might expect that only a canvas can deliver this impact. Curator: In a sense, it’s about seeing something small – like a quiet moment by the sea, or figures passing along a silent sea line -- and letting it resonate with a bigger, perhaps universal feeling, like time away, reflection or stillness. Editor: Yes, which is maybe why it keeps drawing my gaze and doesn't quite let go. It quietly asks for personal projection and empathy towards silent people in the image and, most of all, towards Kyhn and the symbolic density that this “stillness” offers to viewers to think about.