Landscape with Haystacks 1916

Curator: Well, this is Edvard Weie's "Landscape with Haystacks," painted in 1916. Editor: It hits you with such quiet… like a memory seen through gauze. All soft edges and that hazy, almost bruised, sunset. There is a certain melancholy. Curator: Weie often worked 'en plein air,' and you can see the directness of his approach here. It's oil on canvas, and he's built up the paint in places, creating a tangible texture, especially on the haystacks. Editor: Those haystacks! They’re lined up like silent witnesses or spectral figures. Each haystack with a shadow. There's a connection between these forms that goes beyond just haystacks in a field; they almost suggest a solemn ritual, you know? Something repeated over centuries, connecting man to nature. Curator: Interesting you say that, because the symbol of haystacks can represent abundance but also, in some contexts, transience – a reminder of the harvest and the coming winter. There’s certainly a feeling of the seasons turning in the picture, of nature on a verge. Editor: The colour palette is really limited—lots of muted greens and yellows, with that faded orange sky—it intensifies that feeling. The symbolic weight seems so at odds with this quick, 'wet' impressionistic style, making it all so engaging and accessible. I feel the earth in the ochres. Curator: There's a very compelling tension. Weie embraced Post-Impressionism, but there are clear Realist undercurrents in his willingness to depict the scene before him accurately, honestly, without overly romanticizing the rural scene. Editor: The simplification of forms contributes to the powerful sense of enduring imagery, tapping into our shared history and relationship with land. It’s like Weie managed to capture not just a view, but also a deep chord. Curator: Absolutely. It invites contemplation beyond the immediate scene. Editor: Which lingers. It gives much to unpack, given that initially simple appearance.