Dag Ronny Pettersen


but I was just high enough to be able to see the horizon between the tops of the other trees. I got the sense of just how powerful a landscape can be. And then I understood a thing or two, I believe, about Dag Ronny. Or I at least got a new entrance to view his paintings. Namely, that the viewer should imagine clinging to the very top of a swaying tree. Exposed… You decide to call one of the plains earth, even though you know that it is really a void. The other plain you name sky, though you know that it is actually a dream in front of you. And the line drawn where the two forms push themselves against each other, that line, which you might easily name longing, you decide to simply name horizon. The more you stare at the horizon, the more you feel it is actually staring at you. Observed from a distance, in reality it is you that are far away, merged into the landscape as an insignificant detail in an otherwise even and soft line. It is on this narrow border, between a void that we do not control, and a dream that we do not understand, that we live our lives… You stare at the horizon as if it was life itself in one single line, you stare until it starts to tremble, open up… The horizon becomes a vibrating string, that oblivion strikes again and again with its bow. And the melody that you hear is not an imitation, but an echo. Such is the sound you emit as the landscape throws you back. This is the sound of your own voice. Your own voice screaming…

The Norwegian author Demian Vitanza

Nettavisen Halden24, 2016

(Extract from the opening speech at the exhibition at Rød Manor in Halden 2016)