Nationalmuseum – Joel’s Journeys & Jaunts

This entry is going to be short because a) I didn’t do much this afternoon in Stockholm, just visited the Nationalmuseum (English translation, duh: National Museum); b) I’ve already published two entries today, and I’m getting tired of writing; and c) I’m just plain getting tired. I need to go to sleep soon.

Okay, let’s get going.

The Stockholm Food Tour I went on immediately before the activities described herein was scheduled to be a three-hour tour from 11:30 to 2:30. It was closer to a three-and-a-half-hour tour. And it was almost 3:00 before I finished that. So this post doesn’t cover a lot of ground.

Apart from the walk over to it, which deserves a few words, as I said, I only went to the Nationalmuseum.

The food tour ended in central Stockholm on the same side of the water as the Nationalmuseum. The tour finished at a cafe about, I think, halfway along a several-block-long pedestrians-only shopping street, Drottninggatan. My walk to Nationalmuseum took me along that street for a piece. It was lovely. There are cross streets with traffic, but the shopping street itself is otherwise fully pedestrianized.

I then had to leave Drottninggatan, walk over a few blocks, enter the top end of a park, Kungsträdgården, and walk the length of it. It is a glorious urban park about one block wide and four blocks long. All of the cross streets end at the park and do not cross through it.

There is one lane of traffic on either side of Kungsträdgården down its length. Within the park itself, on both of its sides, there are three rows of trees, with pedestrian promenades and a cycle path stretching between the trees.

The centre of Kungsträdgården, is divided into a few sections. At one end, there’s a rectangular reflecting pool with fountains, but the fountains were turned off today, and the wind was strong enough that the surface didn’t create much of a mirror.

Another section has some gardens. A third section has a stage set up, some benches, and a café, but some or all of that looked temporary. A fourth section has a sculpture fountain. At the base are swans spitting continuous streams of water, with some humanoid figures on the centre piece.

Stockholm is a beautiful city.

Nationalmuseum

The Nationalmuseum is in a beautiful old building close to the water. The structure is grand, inside and out. Inside, there’s an elegant, wide staircase between the exhibition levels. There are frescos on the wall at the top of the staircase, and on the arches over it,

My guidebook tells me that the Nationalmuseum has about 16,000 classic paintings and sculptures. I didn’t think it was that big. And I don’t think I missed anything.

I got a map at the entrance, and based on that, I think I saw almost all of the rooms of art.

The “lower ground floor” has just lockers and washrooms as far as I could see from the map. The ground floor is largely only the entrance, the foyer, a café, a restaurant, a children’s art world (which I didn’t see). There’s little earth, although there is a small, peaceful indoor sculpture courtyard.

The leaflet containing the map suggests you go to the top floor first and follow a timeline through the museum. On the top floor, it progresses with mostly paintings from the 16th through to the beginning of the 19th century, the very beginning of the 19th century. While it’s mostly paintings, there are some sculptures, engravings, and an old, exquisitely carved wood cabinet.

The next floor down, the only other floor with a significant amount of art, holds more recent artwork, spanning the period from 1800 through to the current day. Here, there are fewer paintings and more ceramics, vases, and design objects, including household items. However, there are also some paintings from very recent times, including some done in a classical style. I didn’t see any purely abstract work. It was fine art.

Breaking the chronology of that layout, there’s a temporary exhibit space up on the top floor. When I was there, it displayed art by Hannah Hirsch Poli, who lived from 1864 to 1940.

Despite being the National Museum of Sweden, the artists weren’t all Swedish. There were German, Dutch, French and other artists represented.

I took pictures of some of the art. While I was there, I was thinking of writing some riffs on some of those pieces here, probably to the immense consternation of any art historians (retired or otherwise) who might happen to read this. But I’m too tired, so I’m going to abandon the majority of my thoughts on that, if for no other reason than sleepiness has pushed them out of my head.

Nonetheless, I will mention that there was one painting, done by a Swede in 1686. As everyone knows, I know nothing about art. But I was taken aback by that painting. It was of a polar bear. I’ve seen a fair bit of European art in my time, even if I’ve only taken cursory glances at it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a painting from that period of a polar bear.

Then again, most of the 17th-century European art I’ve seen has been Italian, French, Dutch, and from other countries in that general region. I don’t imagine many European painters from south of the Scandinavian countries had seen a polar bear, or even a painting of a polar bear. in the 17th century.

And there’s a 16th-century painting, the English title of which is “The Feast of the Sea Gods.” In among the broader scene, two winged gods are flying over the sea. One of them has a normal posture, as much as a flying god can be said to have a normal posture. But the other one is upside down and appears to be doing aerial acrobatics for the enjoyment of the crowds below on the boats at sea and the people on shore.

The flying circus god is the more difficult of the two to see because he’s fainter in the painting. And he’s smaller because he’s supposed to be farther back. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see him with the scaled-down resolution on this website. But trust me, he’s there.

What’s up with that? Why can’t current gods be more like the old ones? In my opinion, they were much more appealing when they were visible and putting on shows for their alleged creations.

Oh, okay. There is one more I’ll talk about. It’s an 18th-century sculpture of a nude male, titled (in English) “The Faun.” The guy is lying on his side, with his torso propped up on a sack of some sort. One arm is draped over the top of his head. He has a look of consternation on his face like he’s thinking, “Where the heck did I put my clothes? I can’t go out like this.”

I doubt that’s what the artist had in mind, but that’s how it looked to me.

Oh, hell. One more, a recent one, 2024, titled “The Synagogue of Lemberg.” It’s a triptych. Why are there ducks in the foreground of this painting? And why the heck are the ducks almost larger than the synagogue? I don’t remember my Hebrew school teachers teaching me about any monster ducks. Then again, I didn’t pay much attention in Hebrew school. Maybe I missed it.

Okay. I’ve left a lot out that I wanted to say about the Nationalmuseum. But I really need to go to sleep. Please enjoy the pictures I’ve posted. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.