Stavanger, Norway
Awkwardness can feel very good sometimes. A skewed angle in a drawing, a bent nose on a face, an unusual color in a sweater, a tottering pile of books—these things are often easier to relate to than their perfect versions. In her portraits and still lifes, Kirsten Opstad could be said to be a specialist of this category, representing it both via subject matter and technique. Her painting of a Japanese tea tray, pot, and lacquer container—plus a lemon, because why not—tilts forward, imperfect and delightful. Visible brushmarks insist on the resolutely handmade; outlines render objects with distinction and interpretation; unusual color choices acknowledge senses beyond the visual. Van Gogh found blue shadows; Opstad delineates a nose and eye with magenta. The artist reference is not random; the expressionistic bent of many late nineteenth and early twentieth century artists is felt throughout her oeuvre. Those artists, reacting against the Industrial Revolution, asserted the human touch at every turn, understanding that only machines make perfect things, and that perfection may not always be the desirable goal. We are well beyond that revolution now, and needing the reminder all the more.
—Lori Waxman March 16, 12:57 PM