Karl Ceder är en ung konstnär, som vi säkert kommer att få se mera av nu när han har återvänt till Sverige.
Han är född 1982 i Tidaholm och har fått sin konstnärliga utbildning vid Nordiska Konstskolan i Kokkola, Finland och därefter vid Finnish Academy of Fine Art i Helsingfors 2008-2013 och avslutningsvis som gästelev 2013-14 vid Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst i Leipzig, Tyskland.
Det här är hans första separatutställning i Sverige efter åren i Finland och Tyskland.
I paint time and cycle space.
The air is cold. The grass is white from frost. The tree tops sparkle of gold in the sun when earth moves on in it´s orbit and turns night into day. I get on my bike. I press my cycle shoes into the pedals, I´m fixed.
The frame is solid and flexible and transforms my strength to the firm, tight balance of the wheels. I and the bike is as one.
The houses (that I pass) drop their lifeless shaddows. And the shaddows split the street lengthways. The paving glitters. I see sunlit buildings. A great many grey colours. They play with eachother, the facades expands in the morning sun, burst in hues unto eachother, their revetted walls turns into vibrant, monochrome surfaces.
Empty areas. Self-clored aereas that create spaces where light is absorbed.
I leave the city. The horizon stretches out to separate sky from earth. The weight of heaven overlays everything. Above us, endless substance. Everlasting, empty space. I move faster. I register everything. Far away I see moutains. I am going there.
The forest stands at attention, a demanding, impenetrable dark wall. Long, drawn-out purple shaddows over the road. I cycle into the dark. Speed is my motion, my state and dimension. The enormus mass and solidness of the mountain rises mounumentally.
I strive to reach the top and my endeavor transforms into a state of trance. Power verses mass verses resistance is the experience. I push all my force into the pedals. Serpentine after serpentine. My heart rushes. I take deep breath, my lungs open out their full extension.My lungs exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen. They explode, my arms are numb and the feeling of my fingers is lost. Am I there? Is this the top? My thoughts are all my senses. Openings. I see.
The poet Alberto Caeiro (Fernando Pessoa) said: to eat a fruit is to taste it´s meaning. For me, painting is to taste the meaning of sight.
I paint what I see. I don´t copy reality. My interpretation is made through my experience and my seeing. I look and perceive, I seek and I capture.
In everyday life, in a certain situation, something catches my attention, my senses. But what is there? What calls for my awareness?
Why am I so interested in ”nothing”?
I try to reach for, and describe, something that lays beyond words. Using the dimension of paint I create and re-create being.
In my work I process what I see and experience. I transfer my impressions and thoughts physically onto a two-dimensional surface. I create a fictitious space that mirrors my senses. The impenetrable mysticism of an everyday thought (about everything´s meaning) that it all is just because it is. The experience that you cannot pinpoint. What is that?