OSLO .- The first recommendation that I received before leaving for Norway was not miss the Vigelandsparken. "The park of the naked," he said. The photos of the tour guide did not say much. But to gain a foothold in Oslo, the train station, I ran into a giant illustrating an obelisk of entwined bodies, knotted. I suspected this was the Vigelandsparken or Vigeland Park, a park located within larger: Frognerparken.
I began to internalize and learned that he owed his name to Gustav Vigeland, Norwegian sculptor a beloved who lived between 1869 and 1943. In times of independence, the government commissioned numerous sculptures and artists was one of the most pampered of the Scandinavian nation reborn. In 1906 introduced a cast model of a source for decorating the plaza outside the National Parliament. The work was interesting but had to wait about eight years, during which Vigeland expanded the project by adding various groups of sculptures and a granite monolith. Look how interesting history. In 1921, the City of Oslo decided to demolish the building where the sculptor's studio to build the library. But reached an historic agreement: the same city would build a new building for housing the Vigeland studio and, in return for being transformed into a museum after his death. In exchange for this construction, the sculptor agreed to donate to the city all his artistic work, including its models. So
Vigeland moved to their new study, very close to Frognerparken, green space chosen to install its source and sculpture complex. That was how, for the subsequent 20 years, the artist devoted to the completion and installation area for a permanent exhibition of his sculptures. Where
starts or ends for continued Vigeland Park in Frogner, I never could discover. Instead, if I find that this huge park of more than 32 hectares began to be conceived by this megalomaniac in 1924 and was finished seven years after his death.
The big portals leading to it from one of the main streets of Oslo resemble the New York Central Park. It is something like a large green area in the middle of the city. Although, of course, Oslo nature radiates on all sides.
I felt lucky the day I had to cross it: a sunny Sunday in September with 22 degrees and a warm sun caressing your face. Just went through the gorge trees, under which many seniors enjoyed the rest day for their retirement (with no concern on their faces, obviously), the quack of ducks expected near water. Since the end of that wall tree looks the first surprise: a bridge flanked by dozens of human bronze sculptures, all naked. Not only are in different postures and positions, but each contains an expression, an emotion or action. Some symbolic, some metaphorical, all so vivid. Here begins a journey that moves. Here begins a natural and artistic communion that shakes every way.
Vigeland reproduced all forms of human relations, all periods treasuries and most diverse forms of expression. They are beautiful, erotic, even dread. It is impossible for each to be indifferent. And there, in that hall of sensations, there is an inspiring aroma, inescapable. That of August Rodin. There
instincts are embodied both in its most extreme and more subtle ways. Brotherly love, filial love. Visible violence, domestic violence. The couple heterosexual, homosexual. Hatred, anger, panic, joy, happiness. Seduction, vanity, self-reliance, self-esteem. One can be
hours there, watching, sharing with each of these bodies, their possible thoughts, the soul that gave them their creator.
Then a lung breath of flowers allows natural beauty to separate the senses of man's creation. Although, immediately, on high, one can foresee what is coming. Rodin The air mixes with a cacophony of inspiration in ancient Mesopotamia and classical art. The yin and yang dot sight and permanently drunk sensitive viewers. A huge fountain, called The Wheel of Life, above the Monolitten, an obelisk of human bodies. It is so erotic that blaze art, amid so much green. As phallic. The Wheel and the Obelisk up an intercourse of life to give birth moments, emotions, feelings, bitter and happy.
The Wheel is a sustained source for a few atlases, which are covered by a curtain of water, as smoothly as strident in his downfall. All around, trees of life with cherubim, which are more reminiscent rodiniana. And below, on the frieze that encircles the entire source sequences that pass for love, sex and violence.
Then the staircase leading to human obelisk. One can spend hours watching this sculpture as ritual content. This braid of bodies, compact, perfect, as impressive as beautiful. Men and women all ages are compacted into a mass of concrete that looks raw. Around him, dozens of sculptures in situations that contain both action and emotion. Vigeland is amazing how you can capture feelings to reflect expressions. How can put the rock in the human soul so eloquently.
Nearly five hours I was in the Vigelandparken, I love that megalomaniac. Watched each sculpture, each relief of the source, each body knotted at the obelisk. Try to keep the smell of the flowers so well cared for by the visitors themselves and to the sound of birds.
Passing through the portals of exit, I swear I turned around, smiled and thanked her.
