In the two large oil paintings titled Vertical Winter Tale, the classical picture plane is split in two. On one side: dissolving clouds, painted in icy tones. On the other: a flat field of colour in black or red—a kind of “side wing,” as Kvium himself describes it, which disrupts the rhythm of the image and opens it up to reflection. “It’s like starting a symphony—and then breaking the rhythm,” he says.

With the series Darkland Blues, he tightens the expression even further. Five narrow works, each constructed with dark colour fields and cut-out cloud motifs, evoke a hushed stillness in which all excess has been stripped away. Sky and trees alone carry the emotional weight of the works. There are no figures here—yet their absence is felt all the more strongly. One can almost hear the landscape sigh.