Julia Adelgren: “Painting is akin to swimming in deep water, collecting items from the ocean floor”
10 min read
Pieter-Jan de Paepe chats with Julia Adelgren about Baudelaire’s poetry, John Cassavetes and Copenhagen landscapes ahead of her recent show in Lisbon
Pieter-Jan de Paepe: First of all, congratulations on your first solo exhibition at ADZ, a gallery that embraces the slowness of painting as its guiding principle. Would you describe your own painting process as slow? How do you typically approach a blank canvas in the studio?
Julia Adelgren: Thank you! It might be described as slow; I need to keep the painting with me for a long time in order to be sure that it’s finished. For me, painting is much like recording and editing is for filmmakers. At first, I try not to stand in the way of myself. I try to let out everything I have within me, without censoring or questioning myself. Those “recordings” can be quite quick and flowing in terms of applying colour to the canvas. Sometimes the paintings go through many of them before finding the right track. Even when it feels like they have somehow found their form, I need to put them away and take them back out again before I feel that they are right. The filmmaker John Cassavetes is a big source of inspiration for me in this regard. There is a sense of looseness and effortlessness in his scenes and how they are shot, but there is also a tension that arrives from passionate hard work and perfectionism.
PJP: The exhibition title ‘Roseate Nights’ is taken from a poem by Baudelaire that holds enormous metaphorical and symbolic meaning. Your paintings, like Baudelaire’s poems, tend to explore the subconscious and a desire to convey nuanced emotions through evocative, often dreamlike, images. Can you talk more about the choice of title?
JA: I read Baudelaire’s Flowers of Evil in the studio while making this show. As often when reading, I found and collected images and words from texts that appealed to me, and which I felt had a connection to my work. Many of these paintings possessed a certain reddish colour that seemed to originate from the nighttime, dreams, and closed eyes. I found that the light and atmosphere of the poem in which I collected the words and phrases had something to do with that of the paintings I was making. So the title crystallised towards the end of the working process.
PJP: Desolate horses, dark trees and the female figure recur in your work, which makes me think of Baudelaire’s symbolism. I also notice there is an impersonal approach to the figure, who often appears anxious or is turned away from the viewer. Are these cyphers for yourself?
JA: Though the paintings may possess a symbolic language, I never deliberately work with symbols. I aim to create scenes that correspond to what I feel is urgent to say in the here and now.
PJP: How does the colour palette in your paintings relate to the themes and emotions you aim to capture?
JA: It’s intuitive and very much about just listening. It all comes together as one – motif, colour and texture. What you say and how you say it can’t be separated. Colour adapts together with the image as I try and find the right tone and psyche of the painting.
PJP: Nature is a very important part of your work. You draw inspiration from the landscapes of Copenhagen and the whimsical essence of dreams. You create allegorical landscapes filled with mythic motifs, inviting viewers into a familiar yet fantastical world, where nature takes on an otherworldly quality. I was wondering how you perceive the relationship between the natural environment and the human figure in your paintings?
JA: Wherever I am, I am always observant of the landscape. I look at the moss and flowers and at the oak trees and the mountains in the mist. My surroundings have a strong impact on the paintings. I am also interested in human relations. The figure and the natural surroundings exist in my paintings without a hierarchy. The human presence is not above or below any other sort of presence that surrounds us. I give as much attention to the growth of the ground as to how the hair flows on the head of a girl. However, once a living creature is depicted on the canvas, it somehow takes up a lot of space, and if you depict a face, it has a tendency to take over the painting, and to turn it into a story about a particular person, which is not what I intend. I want the figure to enable readings relating to existence, in the wider sense of the word.
PJP: I read that you committed yourself to painting at the age of 20. Who were the painters who influenced your work back then?
JA: I was driven by visual ideas I wanted to realise, rather than other painters. I had been working with textiles and other materials, but found that my ideas worked better in paint. But I did visit many museums. I definitely was, and still am, under the influence of art history. My favourites include renaissance painters, impressionists and Spanish masters. I was also engaged with historical artefacts like Asian folding screens, lacquer objects and woodprints, as well as ceramics and textiles from around the world.
PJP: What is it about painting that you love? And what distinguishes it from other forms of media for you?
JA: The endless possibilities, but also the limitations. Any world can be created on the canvas, but only in that space. You don’t need to be dependent on anyone else to paint. It unites the physical and intellectual. These characteristics make it quite different from other forms of art.
PJP: Is there one painting or another piece of art that holds particular significance for you?
JA: I’m afraid I can’t name just one that would be above all others. I feel that if I chose a particular work, that work would be destroyed for me – I would tire of it because I gave it that importance.
PJP: When I look at your paintings, I see an affinity with Nordic painting. I think of the landscapes of Eugène Jansson, Jóhannes Kjarval, Edvard Munch and Mamma Andersson. Is it a tradition that you consciously relate to?
JA: It’s not something I consciously relate to, though I really like some of those painters. I feel that landscape is my language. The artists you mentioned probably have a similar approach. We share the Nordic landscape as the surroundings in which we grew up. Perhaps this gives us a similar view of the world, both in terms of motifs and in a more philosophical sense.
PJP: You have mentioned that your work is also influenced by filmmakers such as Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Do your works have a narrative or story?
JA: It’s usually the essence of a film that touches me, rather than the story itself. The energy that a film can give, and the questions it can raise are what inspire me. The paintings are never based on a singular story or narrative, they bring together different stories that have a connection. What you are able to receive from a work of art has a lot to do with your own psychological state and position in that moment. During the process of painting, from beginning to end, the work can absorb new stories and influences.
PJP: Tomma Abts was your mentor at the Kunstakademie in Düsseldorf. What is memorable from her teaching?
JA: A lot about finding your own way, which I appreciated. She has a strong passion for and belief in painting – we looked at many shows and museums together. I felt encouraged to go fully into my own world and embrace it.
PJP: Can you share some things about your upcoming artistic endeavours? What do you have planned?
JA: I’m working on a new show, which will be at a gallery up north, which is exciting since I’ve never had a show so close to home. A few works are starting to feel quite finished, others are at an early stage. When it comes to the actual process of painting, I don’t make too many plans – I engage in the process. Painting is still like swimming in deep water, collecting items from the ocean floor. In a few months, the paintings might rise back to the surface, ready to face the outer world, the air and the eyes.