Odd Weeks: Torsten Renqvist

In effect, the sculptures would not work south of Berlin. To me, this seemed strange, but I eventually began to understand what he meant. In some way, Torsten Renqvist’s sculptures belong with the Nordic region, with the earth, the landscape, the forest. South of Berlin this connection grows less apparent.

During a visit to the artist’s studio in the spring of 2002, Torsten Renqvist told me how the sculptures of Charles XII and Elsa Beskow had evolved. Both originals were standing in the studio. An idea for an exhibition was beginning to take shape for “Odd Weeks” which would focus on Torsten Renqvist’s personal choice and stories.

In the sculpture, the historical person of King Charles XII, who spent most of his life outdoors, looks like he has been chopped right out of a pine tree – or a poplar, to be more precise – but with those additions that make him a monarch by the grace of God: a genuine death mask, a rapier and a studied pose. Nevertheless, the artist allows some irony – there is something ridiculous about the figure, he is so tiny. The work was inspired by an advert for the National Museum, and the story is retold in the interview made for the exhibition (shown in the auditorium).

Elsa Beskow is also shown here, together with several central works in Torsten Renqvist’s oeuvre. The figure of the Swedish children’s book writer and illustrator Elsa Beskow – which stands on the plaza in Djursholm outside Stockholm – is accompanied by a capercaillie. The feathers consist of a large piece of bark. Elsa’s features were experienced by the artist at first hand when he was young and living in Djursholm. Why Elsa and a Capercaillie? Elsa Beskow walked like a capercaillie, this can be seen by her footstep. It became a double portrait, Elsa and the Capercaillie.

In Torsten Renqvist’s sculptures it is essential that the tangible dimension of the artistic creation is perceived. The heads of the nails, screws and plugs are visible, as they should be. They convey the manual labour that harks back to the agrarian society we turned our backs on long ago. The sculptures can be “converted”, an arm replaced by another, and so on. There is an energy in Torsten Renqvist’s works that is easy to discover and admire. Torsten Renqvist likes the physical object – and we feel it.

Mikael Adsenius