It’s autumn in Scandinavia, so the weather changes here rather quickly. As the light gets thinner and the evenings arrive earlier each day, it’s a challenge to find balanced light for taking images.
This short photo essay is filled with shots that Mark took in Kolding, Denmark as he dashed out one afternoon between the persistent bursts of rain. Enjoy!
Surface application of floral artwork on a house in Kolding, Denmark.Bogpassagen sign in Kolding, Denmark.A sculpture of a young man in an open-air display area within the Old Town section of Kolding, Denmark.A public art display in an urban park within Kolding, Denmark. Stone sculptures are placed on the stairs and flat platforms within this space.Modern sculpture of a woman on a motorcycle. Public art discovered on a walk around Kolding, Denmark.For the numerous cycling enthusiasts and commuters, the ever-present bike parking racks in Kolding, Denmark.
As we travel from country to country, we’ve factored in time to indulge our love of art and design. So my heart beat a little faster when I learned that we could see an original Arne Jacobsen prototype for modular housing design from 1971 — and a visit to the Trapholt Museum in Kolding was planned.
You’d think I would have headed straight to that exhibit first — but no — I was lightheaded from hunger. As we walked to the far end of the museum, we were astonished at the serene view over the fjord below from the large windows of the cafe.
The cafe in the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark overlooks a deep-blue fjord.
After we dined, a visit to the Kubeflex prototype made us realise how far ahead of his time Arne Jacobsen was when he designed it and then died shortly afterwards in 1971. Good architecture and design for the masses, not just for the wealthy, was something he aspired to. Each module of the Kubeflex was 11 metres square and could be assembled in a variety of combinations according to the requirements of the new owners.
Unfortunately, Jacobsen’s untimely death meant that the Kubeflex design never went into production. Instead, the prototype was used as a summer house for over 30 years by the Jacobsen family.
Arne Jacobsen’s prototype for the modular housing design called Kubeflex is on permanent display at the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.Iconic original Egg Chairs designed by Arne Jacobsen are displayed in his prototype Kubeflex House at the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.Custom furniture designed by Arne Jacobsen is displayed in the Kubeflex prototype house at the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.
The next must-see exhibit was the gallery containing work by Nanna Ditzel. The items on display contained bold colours that were visually arresting!
Nanna Ditzel Mid-Century design displayed at the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.Nanna Ditzel Mid-Century design displayed at the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.
The media and the art world may call it ‘retro chic’ — but there was a nostalgic edge to everything we saw. The concepts that are now quite desirable again were so far ahead of their time.
Entry of the Trapholt Museum in Kolding, Denmark.
Next up — images from Mark’s rambles through Kolding.
As I write this, a mere few days after taking the intentionally soft-focused image above, I realise that it sums up the slow-and-steady state of patience and exploration we are currently immersed in.
There is no rush to decide what to do next.
There is no pressure to move forward or backward or in-between.
There is a sense of deep relaxation and a reacquaintance with the Deborah and Mark that we were almost 26 years ago.
The previous article — A-Wandering We Go!— was the introduction to these changes. Until recently, very few people knew the behind the scenes ideas that we’d been percolating in our artistic brains.
Our lives are good — and we are grateful.
I’ll go back to assignment writing and editing at some point, but for now the personal writing and return to photographic pursuits are putting a smile on both of our faces.
And as we decide where, when, and how we’d like to live in the years ahead, we’ll be documenting the journey and sharing it with you.
Stick with us — it’s going to be an interesting adventure! And if you’d like to follow along, enter your email for updates on the form that appears once you CLICK on the line just below this one.
We’ve lived in France for over five years — and that has given us so many benefits and blessings — things that we are quite appreciative of. I did the hard slog of paperwork required to get our plastic ID cards that prove we are EU residents in good standing — and I even obtained an EU driving license. Since we’ve been ‘in the system’ and eligible for health care and energy rebates and so forth — why change things now?
We’ve been living in a pretty part of Brittany and we’ve made some wonderful friends over the last few years. But picturesque settings and pleasant folks aside, we feel like our time in France may be coming to an end. To determine if our feelings are accurate, we’re currently on a long driving holiday in northern Europe.
Our mindset about life shifted rather dramatically this year when Mark’s father died a few months ago. Having such an anchor presence, one that you thought would always be there, disappear within weeks of your last visit to England impacted us both rather sharply. We grieved deeply — and then we realised that we needed to decide how we felt about France as our long-term home.
We first went to England for two weeks and spent some time with my mother-in-law whilst getting ourselves prepared to travel again. It’s been a year since we took our last long trip to Italy for two months.
Mark bought a new off-road bike and he did test runs around Canvey Island and other nearby spots before we set off.
Mark’s Boardman orange bike in front of a ruin on Canvey Island, Essex, England.
A variety of boats along a narrow waterway in Canvey Island, Essex, England.
Then Mark fine-tuned some things on the van, decided how many bikes he was taking along for the trip, and exactly one week ago, we arrived in Harwich just before sunset where we stopped for some photos before enjoying a lovely dinner.
Mark taking photos in Harwich England at sunset.
A few hours later, we sailed away on a beautiful Stena Lines ship to the Hook of Holland. We had a wonderfully comfortable overnight trip and a good breakfast the next morning before we disembarked.
Cabin on the Stena Line sailing from Harwich to Hook of Holland.
Breakfast on our Stena Lines trip from Harwich to Hook of Holland.
After arrival, we went through the long lines at passport control (proudly showing our EU cards as proof that we live in Europe and are not overseas tourists with a limited-time status!) and away we drove towards Germany.
Our first stop for the night was in a tiny spot near Bremen called Ganderkesee. The country house hotel was gloriously old-world and the food at the evening meal and huge breakfast the next morning was excellent.
Exterior of the Hotel Backenkohler in Ganderkesee, Germany.
Most of our destinations will be all-new territory for us. We’ve been to the Netherlands and Germany several times, but we’ve never ventured further north into the Scandinavian countries. We have so many places to see, photos to take, and new experiences to have.
It has been a year since we visited Paris, and quite a lot has unfolded in our lives. Yes, we are still in Brittany, France — for now.
We spent two months in Tuscany at the end of 2018 with Mark doing renovation work on a historic villa and me doing photography for the villa’s website and social media accounts. It is a massive and ongoing project and I’ll place links to the site in the next update — a photo essay of the Villa Francini Del Prete.
Reading a book on the elevated terrace of Villa Francini Del Prete in Fazzano, Tuscany.
The front entry door into Villa Francini Del Prete from the left side of the courtyard. Fazzano, Lunigiana, Tuscany, Italy.
Arriving back in France in late November, a stressful period of rioting, blockades, and demonstrations began. This situation continued for many months afterward as the Gilets Jaunes movement caused chaos in cities large and small, highways, and even rural roads. Yes, I understand that French citizens have the right to protest what they see as economic inequity. No, they do not have the right (in my personal opinion) to cause businesses to fail, to smash in the huge glass windows of shopfronts and restaurants, and to set fire to barricades and vehicles.
The road blockages also made it difficult to get to work, go to doctor or dentist appointments, do the weekly shopping, and even attend scheduled appointments at government offices. This has not been a happy experience, and it would seem that we are soon to be dealing with rail strikes and rolling airline and airport strikes in the months ahead. We don’t find any of this social upheaval appealing or thrilling.
Mark has had the additional stress of losing both parents within 10 weeks of each other, on opposite sides of the world. He was especially close to his father and was startled when he received a cancer diagnosis out of thin air. We spent most of February in England, and Mark drove his father back and forth to radiotherapy. The treatment was ineffective and the doctor was incredibly inaccurate when he told us we had quite a lot longer with Brian, Mark’s father. No — we didn’t. He died the week after we returned to France.
Right now we’re in planning mode. We have some adventures in mind, and I’ll share those with you at another time. For now, this was just a quick check in to say that yes, we are still ticking along. And no matter what, we always find things to be grateful for — each and every week.
***NOTE***
After dealing with severe amounts of spam and highjacking attempts, I have turned off all comments on my posts.
Over the years, my readers have seen my photojournalistic style photography. I do take close details, humourous or interesting juxtapositions, or landscapes — but mostly I take human interest, documentary, or art and architectural studies. Sometimes colour, sometimes black and white, my style is similar to other journalists or art photographers of my era — yet uniquely my own.
My husband Mark began to take a more serious interest in photography after we met almost 25 years ago. And over the years, his style has evolved in a wonderful way. He has an artist’s eye for composition and I love the fact that he sees things differently, that he notices details that I might not have ever seen. Our interests are similar, but not identical.
Today’s post is a photo essay — and every photo was taken by Mark Harmes.
Enjoy!
Child’s gravestone memorial statue in Paris.
Museum courtyard in Paris.
Man in shadow sits beside fountain of stacked concrete scoops in Paris.
Vertical elements in art and architecture in Paris.
Zig-Zag stairs behind a wall of green glass in Paris.
Generali Balloon ride in a park in Paris.
Walking in the shade of an overhead rail bridge on a hot day in Paris.
Glass angles and reflections in Paris.
Architectural details on an Art Nouveau building in Paris.
Mark’s reflection in the door glass of an Art Nouveau building in Paris.
The latest post is a sprinkling of images from our last days in Paris. It was a very compressed 5-day visit during an intense heatwave.
View of the Eiffel Tower from the Avenue de La Bourdonnaise in Paris.
Resting in the shade by a cooling water garden in back of the Musee Quai Branly in Paris. The Rue de L’Universite.
This isn’t chalk — these are painted designs on the bicycle and scooter lane alongside the Quai D’Orsay in Paris. Can’t find any information about what the marks mean!
Dinner at the Brasserie Terminus Balard in Paris.
Next up — a post full of images taken by Mark Harmes in Paris!
