Journal articles on the topic 'Painters – Denmark'

The history of collecting in Denmark and Norway in the 19th century is intimately connected with the history of the painters and sculptors active during that period. Only in Copenhagen were the Royal and private collections accessible to the artists, for whom copying paintings by Old Masters formed an important part of their curriculum. Major collectors of the Age were Prince Christian Frederik (later King Christian VIII of Denmark), who mainly acquired paintings and sculptures by contemporary artists, and the portrait painter Christian Albrecht Jensen, whose preference was to buy and sell the works of Old Masters. In Copenhagen, the collections of the Counts Moltke, which mainly consisted of works by Dutch painters, was open to the public, while the Royal Collection (today a part of Statens Museum for Kunst) could only be visited from 1827 onwards. None of the three collections dealt with in the present article have survived until today, while the works of art and the antiques belonging to the sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen are at present housed in the museum bearing his name.

During the first part of the nineteenth century, geologists developed a history of the earth so different from that accepted in previous centuries that it encouraged a rethinking of the relationship between man and nature. In this article I will argue that painters followed these changes closely and that some of them let the narratives and images of geology inform the way they depicted nature. In arguing my point, I will focus on images and descriptions of the chalk cliffs on the Danish island of Møn by both geologists and painters. I will follow the scientific advances in geology by referring to the texts and images of Søren Abildgaard, Henrich Steffens, Johan Georg Forchhammer, and Christopher Puggaard, and discuss how their changing theories correspond with paintings of the cliffs by four artists: Christopher Wilhelm Eckersberg, Frederik Sødring, Louis Gurlitt, and Peter Christian Skovgaard.

The Nordic achievements in the visual arts in the age of romanticism were first and foremost accomplished by Danish artists. The great initiator was C. W. Eckersberg, who observed reality with great scrutiny and demanded of himself a faithful rendering of all the details. However, at the same time, he stuck to the classical principles of composition and omitted all accidental and ugly aspects of the motif that did not fit into his concept of an ideal picture. The principles he laid down in his art in around 1815 formed the basis of Danish (and Norwegian) painting until 1850. He introduced open-air painting as part of the tuition at the Royal Academy of Copenhagen and was, in this respect, a pioneer in a European context. During the 1820s and 30s almost all the young Danish painters were pupils of Eckersberg, and he also influenced the Norwegian J. C. Dahl. The subjects of the Danish paintings are very down-to-earth – they are first and foremost taken from everyday life. In the first decades of nineteenth century, Copenhagen had the status as the most important art centre in Northern Europe, and the art academy attracted many German artists. However, around 1840, a growing nationalism separated the Danish and German artists, and many Danish landscape painters devoted their art to the praise of Denmark. The nationalist artists, however, still stuck to the reality they had actually seen.

In the last decade of the 18th century, the Danish state experienced a period of prosperity, which was characterized by a German-Danish cultural transfer in all intellectual fields. The first clouds were cast by the rise of an artistic self-confidence. Asmus Jacob Carstens from Schleswig and Ernst Meyer from Altona, who felt disadvantaged in the awarding of medals and protested vehemently, were expelled from the art academy in Copenhagen in 1781 and 1821. Nevertheless, the Copenhagen Art Academy had a strong attraction for numerous artists from northern Germany. In this respect, Caspar David Friedrich, Philipp Otto Runge and Georg Friedrich Kersting are primarily worthy of mention. The Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen was a strong link between the Germans and Scandinavians living in Rome throughout his life. The first cracks in the good bilateral relationship came with the strengthening of the national liberal movements. In 1842, the influential teacher at the Copenhagen Art Academy, N.L. Høyen, drew up a program aimed at repressing influences from abroad, especially from Germany. Not all artists heeded Høyens call for a return to national themes of history, folk life, and nature, so that two groups confronted each other in Denmark: the nationalists and the Europeans. With the German-Danish War of 1848/51 there was a rift, and with the war of 1864 the final break. Only after twenty years did the academies of Copenhagen and Berlin resume contact. From 1883 onwards, there were reciprocal visits, which led to Danish artists once again taking part in representative exhibitions in Berlin or Munich. Conversely, however, German artists were denied participation in exhibitions in Copenhagen, an exception being the International Art Exhibition on the inauguration of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen in 1897. A spirit freed from all academic constraints also emanated from the artist colonies in Europe. In particular, the works of the Skagen painters were enthusiastically celebrated at exhibitions in Munich and Berlin, which led to some German painters traveling to the Danish artists' colony, where they were received without prejudice. However, at no time was there a balance in the official acceptance and appreciation of the art of the respective neighbouring country. While painters such as Michael Ancher and Peder Severin Krøyer sold works to renowned collectors and museums in Germany, no Danish Museum acquired the work of a German artist during the period under study. The Berlin painter Walter Leistikow, who was married to a Danish woman, worked hard to stimulate a German-Danish art transfer and succeeded in getting the leading Danish gallery owner Valdemar Kleis to offer German painters the opportunity to exhibit in Copenhagen for the first time in 1894, most of whom belonged to the group Die XI, a precursor of the Berlin Secession. The appreciation of the Skagen painters was replaced at the turn of the century by admiration works by F.J. Willumsen and Vilhelm Hammershøj. Hammershøj filled a room of his own at the Great Berlin Art Exhibition in 1900 with 14 works, and the Schulte Gallery in Berli While German admiration for Danish art peaked between 1890 and 1900, people in Denmark continued to look past the German art scene. This was also experienced by the artists' group Die Brücke, which sought foreign members soon after its founding. When Kleis presented works by the Brücke artists in Copenhagen in 1908, they too received only negative reviews. In March 1910, the time seemed ripe for a change of mood. The Berlin gallery owner Herwarth Walden strove to make his Sturm-Galerie a rallying point for the European modernist art movements. In July 1912, he rented the exhibition building of the secessionist group Den Frie in Copenhagen and held an exhibition of Italian Futurists there. When Walden was celebrated by the Danish press as a cosmopolitan who had brought modernism to Copenhagen, he showed works by the French Henri le Fauconier and Raoul Dufy, as well as the painters Marianne von Werefkin and Gabriele Münter, but the tenor of the press was again dominated by anti-German resentment. After the outbreak of World War I, Walden allowed himself to be abused by the German propaganda department of the German Secret and Intelligence Service, which strove to correct the image of Germans abroad as cultural barbarians. Walden showed works by Kandinsky, Klee, Kokoschka, Marc, and again Gabriele Münter at the Copenhagen artists’ cabaret Edderkoppen in the fall of 1917. He also planned an exhibition of Danish avant-garde in his Sturm Gallery in Berlin, but the artists had become suspicious in the face of German propaganda, which was celebrating a last military success. The exhibition was canceled. This did not prevent Walden from organizing an exhibition at Kleis’ art shop in Copenhagen shortly before the end of the war, under the guise of internationalism. This was Walden's largest and most ambitious project in Scandinavia. Of the 133 works exhibited, almost half came from Germany. The attempt to convince the Danes of the excellence of German art failed miserably, because the basic conviction was still: Everything that comes from Germany is bad. The opening took place on November 28 and ended on December 16, 1918, by which time the war was already over.

Abstract Polish-born, trained in Germany, with a studio in Rome and a second home in Denmark following her marriage to sculptor and academician Jens Adolf Jerichau, Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann (1818–81) was a true nineteenth-century cosmopolite. She painted Europe’s elite and counted Princess Alexandra, Hans Christian Andersen, Ibsen, the Grimm brothers, and Dickens among her well-wishers. She was invited by Queen Victoria to Buckingham Palace, and her portrait of Alexandra remains in the Royal Collection today. Her travelogue Brogede Rejsebilleder (Motley Images of Travel; 1881) is centered around two journeys to “the Orient” (Constantinople and Smyrna), undertaken in 1869–70 and 1874–75. The present chapters, translated by David D. Possen and introduced by Julia Kuehn, are Jerichau-Baumann’s record of the first of two journeys to Constantinople, in 1869–70. The chapters are published in two parts—“Public Spaces” and “The Harem”—in consecutive numbers of the VIJ. The painter vividly describes the sites of and life in Constantinople. Jerichau-Baumann’s temporary friendship with the young Princess Nazlı Hanım would lead to a number of paintings now considered emblematic of and unique in (female) Orientalist art. Nazlı would become a well-known literary salon hostess and arts supporter in Istanbul, Paris, Cairo, and Tunis.

Albert Eckhout’s twenty-one paintings, signed and dated 1641-1643, kept at the National Museum of Denmark, has stirred much speculation as to their making, meaning, and function. Eight impressive larger-than-life depictions of native Brazilian inhabitants and a huge dancing scene of the Tarairiu Indians were presented as gifts to the Danish King Frederik III (1609-1670) in 1654, together with twelve almost square still lifes of exotic fruits and vegetables from Brazil. The present was from the initiator of the paintings, Johan Maurits van Nassau-Siegen (1604-1679), the governor of the Dutch possessions in north-eastern Brazil. Following on the archival, historical and technical reports that have been presented over the years, a re-evaluation of the technical examinations combined with new comparative research points to a more complex genesis of the paintings. The canvases and ground layers suggest that the tall single-figure pieces were made in one batch, while the large dancing scene and the still-lifes were prepared in a small number of separate batches. Infrared imaging visualises different approaches in paint handling within the group of nine figure pieces. The working up of the final paint layer in the faces of the figures has been approached in two different ways, either opaquely or with semi-transparent layers in the shadow areas. Idiosyncratic manners of rendering the eyes complement these findings and reveal details hardly studied so far. The article concludes that the Tupi man, the Black man, and the Mulatto man are painted in a different and more transparent technique. Further, the manner of mixing black paint with white to render a nuanced whiteness of the eyes of the three figures, is not found in any of the other six paintings. These tall figures were painted by another hand than Eckhout, and most probably someone active in Jacob van Campen’s large Randenbroek workshop in Amersfoort. Here, together with the still anonymous painter, Eckhout completed the impressive series of large Brazilian figures and twelve still lifes around 1647-1650. This research exemplifies the seventeenth-century collaborative practice of working on larger commissions, yet all the works continue to demonstrate Eckhout’s legacy and how studies from his Brazilian sojourn were used by a larger community of artists in the Netherlands to satisfy the need for exotic images of the time.

The oeuvre of beloved Polish painter Ferdynand Ruszczyc (1870–1936) reflected the patriotic Neo-Romantic landscape trend of the fin-de-siècle prevalent in Germany and the Nordic countries (Denmark, Finland, Norway, Sweden). It should be considered in the context of Nordic visual culture for two reasons: (1) until the affiliation of Central and Eastern European nations with the Soviet Union in the wake of World War Two, nations bordering the Baltic formed a single, fluid territory of cultural exchange, and (2) Ruszczyc’s oeuvre displays significant commonalities with dominant patriotic and Neo-Romantic trends of progressive artists around the Baltic Sea, where landscape became a vehicle for expressing dreams and emotions, as well as love of homeland. This article situates Ruszczyc’s national and artistic identity at the crossroads of cultures and artistic impulses, regional as well as international. Ruszczyc was born in Bohdanów near Vilnius (now Belarus) to a Polish father and a Danish mother. Like many Polish artists from the Russian partition, he was educated at the Imperial Academy of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg, where he studied with Ivan Shishkin (1832–1898) and Arkhip Kuindzhi (1878–1910). He also travelled to Sweden. Ruszczyc was influenced by the Russian art circle Mir Iskusstva (World of Art, est. 1898) and is often compared with Nordic (e.g., Akseli Gallen-Kallela; Finnish, 1865–1931) and German (e.g., Otto Modersohn; 1865–1943) artists. His visions of nature are sometimes raw monumental images of the northern landscape or fairy-tale fantasies containing symbolic allusiveness and a mythical, poetic element that evoke intimate memories of the land of his childhood. In his paintings, Ruszczyc presented the changeability of seasons, orchards, soil and streams, clouds formations, and tree trunks with palpable emotion. By exposing the material substance of nature, his paintings also reveal its mystical aspect, its ability to transform in accordance with the cyclical, cosmic rhythm of growth, maturation, death, and rebirth.

The Masque of Blacknesse was a carnival—cavalcade of colour, — it was brash, bold and performed with swaggering pomposity in 1605. The Masque was written by Ben Jonson and staged by Inigo Jones. In it, the Queen of England, Anne of Denmark and her noble friends were painted Black and pretended to be the daughters of the River Niger (personified as a God King). This article unpicks the ethnographic themes in King Niger's speech where he extols the beauty of blacknesse. The author suggests that whilst early modern fiction may echo themes present in that society, it needs to be decoded and in some cases decolonised to decipher early modern ethnography.

The article discusses transcultural art history with Danish examples about Japanese art. This includes an introduction to the concept of transculturation, and how the concept is used in art history research. The core of the argument concerns two interrelated aspects of Danish art historiography: the role of ethnography and the myth of modernism as a Western phenomenon. For the first of these aspects, I analyse the only existing Japanese art history in Danish language, published in 1885. For the other aspect, I analyse recent interpretations of the Danish painter Anna Ancher and her alleged use of formal elements from Japanese woodblock prints. I thereby wish to connect the theoretical issues of transculturation with analyses of transformative and constituent exchange of objects, phenomena and ideas, and point out the potential of the concept of transculturation as both theory and method. An investigation of transcultural connections between Japan and Denmark will contribute to writing a new art history on global interactions.

The painter Emil Nolde's studio was built in 1927 and, the following year, construction was begun on what was to become the house that he shared with his wife Ada in Seebüll. The building was located on a mound in the middle of the marsh, not far from the new border between Germany and Denmark that was made as a result of the vote in 1920. Nolde had designed the building according to the principle that it was to have ‘three facades following the passage of the sun’. Like a sunflower, the facades of the building were to reach out and take in the changing light in step with the sun's flight across the sky. There would be ample opportunity for both skylight and sunlight to enter the building as the positioning on a mound raised the building above the surroundings. In Nolde's view, up on the mound, ‘the entire celestial sphere was above us; it was greater than a semicircle - strange how even a small elevation in the flat landscape can make the vault of heaven seem larger’.

John V. Jensen: In Denmark’s Interest … Mine clearing on Jutland’s west coast 1945 The article is about mine clearing on Jutland’s west coast in 1945. The mine clearing started shortly after the German capitulation. It was unusual because German soldiers were forced to do the work, which, with a few exceptions, was completed on 1 October 1945. The work cost the lives of around 150 German soldiers and wounded even more. In the many years that followed, the perception was that, despite the loss of German lives, the mine clearing had been achieved in a satisfactory way. This perception faced criticism in 1998 with the claim that the mine clearing was a dark chapter in Denmark’s history, and that Danish war crimes had been committed. The German Wehrmacht surrendered to the Allies in Denmark on 4 May 1945, and it was the British liberation force that gave the order for the mines to be cleared. There is evidence to suggest that the political powers in Denmark may have drawn British attention to the mines on Jutland’s west coast. At any rate, the order to clear the mines was incorporated into the terms and conditions of the capitulation. Under the British command, the mines were to be cleared by German soldiers in as short a time as possible, while the Det Danske Pionerkommando (Danish Engineer Command Battalion) was tasked with supervising the clearing work. The article shows that this German-British-Danish collaboration was far from problematic. There were conflicts from the Danish side, especially in terms of sloppiness and laziness among its own inspectors, while the Pionerkommando’s more limited collaboration with the Germans, in terms of counting and subsequent checks, was apparently less strained than one would have expected. This perception was based on the erroneous assumption that it was the Danes who were in command of the German mine clearers. It has been claimed that the mine clearing work was achieved by forced labour. The article states that this is not as clear-cut as it sometimes has been claimed. It is quite obvious that the German soldiers, who were commandeered from the marched groups immediately after the liberation of Denmark, must to a great extent have been forced because of their training. However, there were supposedly also several volunteers among the later arrivals of mine clearers, even though they were less well trained. The work in Denmark was a way of avoiding the prison camps and an alternative to working, for example, in the coal mines in Germany. One argument is that the British, and especially the Danes, had a significant interest in the Germans not getting maimed or killed in the minefields, because as long as the Germans cleared the mines, it meant that Danes did not have to do the work. It is believed that this was the harsh logic of the times. It is believed without a doubt, that the high German losses are explained by the high speed, at which the mine clearing work was carried out. It was work that had to be done, and both the British and the Danish authorities were in agreement on that. However, notwithstanding the tempo, the task’s complexity, the Germans’ work methods and relative inexperience played a role. The article questions whether there actually were any Danish war crimes. From a British (and a Danish) perspective, there were not any German prisoners of war, but military units, which had capitulated and whose labour could be exploited, for example, for mine clearing without there being any conflict with international conventions. In that sense, there were no war crimes. However, be it soldier or war prisoner, the losses remain the same.The contemporary material paints a different and more detailed picture than has been shown up until now and shows that the history of the mine clearing is less clear-cut and more complex than supposed. The tension between Danes and Germans was nowhere near as pronounced as posterity would have it, and internal Danish factors and the relationship with the British also played a role, thereby downplaying the revenge motive, which otherwise has been used to explain the German loss of life. The Danish and German soldiers had an important common interest. This has been overlooked and undermines the explanation that there were revenge and inhumanity. This revenge motive is perhaps to be found in particular outside the ranks of the soldiers, whether Danish, German or British: for example, in the wider Danish population, who conversely had nothing to do with the mine clearing.The mutual interest between the Germans, the British and the Danes was expressed precisely in a written statement from Pionerkommandoet to the ‘Jydsk-fynske Kommando’ (Jutland-Fyn Command) on 14 June 1945: “It is also in Denmark’s interests that the Germans clear the mines, and that we [the Danes] are not forced to do it ourselves”.

Riddle’s Court, a former merchant’s house situated off the Royal Mile, Lawnmarket, Edinburgh, underwent major refurbishment and transformation into the Patrick Geddes Centre for Learning from 2015 to 2017. The results from historical research, building survey and architectural watching briefs are as yet unparalleled, as no other building on the Royal Mile has received the level of historical and archaeological research carried out at Riddle’s Court. In the late 16th century much of the Royal Mile was a plethora of mainly stone and timber-framed houses. However, Riddle’s Court was an amalgam of predominantly ashlar and rubble construction with tall thatched roofs with dormer windows. Slate was a later addition in the early 18th century. The interior of the complex was furnished with several turnpike staircases of which only one now survives. During the 17th and 18th centuries Riddle’s Court was bedecked with all the fine trappings of a country mansion house and was occupied by major and minor aristocracy until the late 18th century. The status of the building was further elevated by its earlier royal connections that led to its partial remodelling for ceremonial purposes. A legacy of a lavish royal banquet in honour of King James VI of Scotland (James I of England) and his bride Queen Anne of Denmark was a painted ceiling in the so-called ‘King’s Chamber’ which commemorated their royal union. This ornate and historically significant painted beam and board ceiling was discovered in the 1960s during a period of building renovation by Edinburgh City Council. The ceiling was restored and is a focal point among a large collection of ornate plaster and painted ceilings. Subsequent removal of more modern lined ceilings during the present refurbishment led to the discovery of three more painted beam and board ceilings, and a concealed fireplace and bread oven that are rare survivors within not only the Royal Mile but elsewhere in Scotland. The presence of so much hitherto unrecorded artwork has significantly raised the importance of the Court’s North Block.

Elisabeth Baumann was born in Warsaw in 1819 to a German mapmaker, Philip Adolph Baumann, and his German wife, Johanne Frederikke Reyer. Her early training took her to Berlin and, from 1838, to the Düsseldorf Academy of Art, a leading one in its day. According to Hans Christian Andersen, who would later write a biography of his friend Elisabeth, the famous German painter Peter von Cornelius much admired Baumann's paintings, and speaking of them he declared, “She is the only real man in the Düsseldorf school,” which was doubtlessly meant as a compliment (see Andersen, qtd. in Von Folsach 83). In Düsseldorf, Baumann was influenced by the prevailing realist trend of the Academy but added to it an idealistic and sensuous quality that would become her distinctive mark. After the completion of her training in 1845, Baumann went to Rome where she met the Danish sculptor Jens Adolf Jerichau, one of the outstanding talents of his time, whom she married a year later. The couple settled in Denmark in 1849 (although Jerichau-Baumann kept a studio in Rome) as Jens Adolf became a professor at, and later President of, the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts.

AbstractA large panel of the Last Supper (fig. 1) can now be attributed to Karel van Mander the Younger (Haarlem c. 1583 – Delft 1623), after cleaning by the present owner, Douwes Fine Art in Amsterdam. The monogram at lower right (fig. 3), on the base of the pillar, has been identified as being that of the young artist and not of his father, the famous painter and writer of the Schilder-boeck, Karel van Mander the Elder. This painting is the first one by Karel van Mander the Younger to have been discovered.Although it is known that the young Karel van Mander had been trained as a painter in his father's workshop and registered at the latest in 1613 as a painter in the Delft guild of St Luke, the artist has until now only been known as a designer for tapestries. This he did from about 1604 at the workshop of François Spiering, which he left in 1615 to start his own tapestry workshop. The numerous sources on this period speak mostly of the difficult, troublemaking character of Van Mander, who's family fled to Denmark after his untimely death in 1623.The Last Supper is intriguing for its many borrowings from prints by and after artists from Karel van Mander the Elder's circle. The pose of several figures as well as some details of the tableware appear to have been derived from a large print by Jan Harmensz. Muller after a painting by Gillis Coignet (fig. 5). Three oddly large hands of figures at left, centre and right, are repetitions of hands from the Apostles series by Hendrick Goltzius of 1589, as is the upwards turned head of the apostle at upper left (figs. 6-8).Some of the figures have been identified by Elisabeth Valentiner, in her study on Karel van Mander the Elder of 1930, as portraits. Whereas one of them, at left of Christ, might indeed have been modelled after the print by Goltzius of Dirck Volckertsz. Coornhert (fig. 9), the identification of the person at lower right, left of the pillar, as Goltzius, is not convincing. The only actual portrait seems to be the more contemporary looking figure at upper right, whose reaching hand has been derived from yet another print by Jan Muller after Goltzius. Although not convincingly applicable for this painting, the use of portraits in a Last Supper was not uncommon. In the Schilder-boeck Van Mander described a, now lost, series of Christ and the Apostles with portraits of artists on which his friend Cornelis Ketel was working.Another interesting aspect of the painting is its date of 1602. This was the year that Van Mander's friend Bartholomeus Spranger, the court painter of Rudolf II, visited Amsterdam and Haarlem, where he was received by artists and rhetoricians. It is tempting to see the painting, possibly a joint project of both father and son Van Mander, as having been made in honour of this visit, as a tribute to Spranger with borrowings from prints by the two artists who engraved his designs, Hendrick Goltzius and Jan Muller. As such a large panel must have been made on commission, the Amsterdam notary and art patron Jacques Razet, a close friend of Karel van Mander the Elder, to whom the above mentioned print by Jan Harmensz. Muller was dedicated, comes to mind, also for the fact that he was known to support young artists.

Egyptian blue is a copper-based blue pigment that was widely used across the Mediterranean from ca. 3300 BC up to late antiquity and even later. For this case study, we analyzed the provenance of Egyptian blue from a Campana relief from the collection of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Denmark. Campana reliefs are terracotta plaques, which were named after the Italian collector Gampietro Campana, who published the first collection in 1851. These mould-made plaques were used as ornaments in central Italy from ca. 60 BC to 50 AD – a time when Egyptian blue production is attested at several sites in the Bay of Naples, Italy. The provenance of copper raw materials that were used for producing this pigment could provide clues about the distribution of production centers and trade contacts. A previous investigation of the provenance of a single bulk Egyptian blue sample of this artefact by Rodler et al. (2017) indicated a possible long-distance transport of (Iberian) copper ore or mixing of distant (Iberian) and Italian copper. Our new data are based on the lead isotope analysis of four individual Egyptian blue samples. The refined sampling resolution emphasizes the Italian South-Eastern Alps as the most likely source area of copper raw materials. This copper could have been processed in local Egyptian blue production workshops or brought to the contemporary Egyptian blue production hub in the Bay of Naples and transported from there to the workshop where the artefact was painted.

In 2018, Het Scheepvaartmuseum in Amsterdam acquired a portrait of Lieutenant-Admiral Cornelis Tromp (1629-1691), painted by Ferdinand Bol, from a private collection. Previously, this work was only known from a reproduction print by Lambert Visscher. After its acquisition, the portrait was restored in 2019, which is when its material and (art) historical aspects were examined. In the portrait, Tromp wears two insignia: a diamond portrait medallion on a red ribbon and the badge of the Danish Order of the Elephant. This badge was added to the portrait later, but by Bol himself. Tromp was thus initially depicted wearing only one of the insignia: the diamond medallion with the red ribbon. That Bol regarded this version of the portrait as completed is evidenced by the egg-white varnish he applied to it. At a later stage however, he exchanged this insignia for the badge of the Order of the Elephant. He carefully hid the medallion and ribbon from view by first scraping off their paint and then obscuring the remains of these forms with a layer of grey paint. Finally, he added the insignia of the Order of the Elephant. During a later restoration, the paint Bol used to cover the medallion and ribbon was largely removed, revealing these forms once again. The ship in the background is the Gouden Leeuw (Golden Lion), Tromp’s flagship during the Third Anglo-Dutch War (1672-1674). Since Tromp had received the portrait medallion from the English king in January 1675, the first portrait version can be dated to February 1675 at the earliest and May 1676 at the latest, when Tromp was appointed commander-in-chief of the Danish fleet in Denmark. After Tromp was elevated to the Order of the Elephant upon his arrival in Copenhagen, Bol altered the portrait to keep it in step with Tromp’s career. This chronology sheds new light on Bol’s artistic practice. which was always assumed to have ended in 1669 when Bol married the wealthy widow Anna van Erckel. However, Tromp’s portrait demonstrates that Bol continued to paint into the second half of the 1670s. After his elevation to the Order of the Elephant, Tromp only allowed himself to be portrayed with this insignia, which was always depicted correctly. It was only Bol who depicted the badge incorrectly, indicating that he did not make the adjustment at Tromp’s instigation. Presumably Bol did this of his own initiative, or that of his wife’s, Anna van Erckel. Archival evidence strongly suggests that she was the first owner of the portrait and that she also owned a portrait, painted by Bol, of Tromp’s wife Margaretha van Raephorst. It was not previously known that Bol had painted her, however a portrait by him of an anonymous woman is clearly Van Raephorst’s likeness. Archival documents show that Van Erckel and Bol knew the Tromp couple personally and maintained friendly relations with them. In Bol and Van Erckel’s stately canal house, the portraits would have been ‘proof’ of that personal relationship.

Abstract. Danish auroral science history begins with the early auroral observations made by the Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe during the years from 1582 to 1601 preceding the Maunder minimum in solar activity. Included are also the brilliant observations made by another astronomer, Ole Rømer, from Copenhagen in 1707, as well as the early auroral observations made from Greenland by missionaries during the 18th and 19th centuries. The relations between auroras and geomagnetic variations were analysed by H. C. Ørsted, who also played a vital role in the development of Danish meteorology that came to include comprehensive auroral observations from Denmark, Iceland and Greenland as well as auroral and geomagnetic research. The very important auroral investigations made by Sophus Tromholt are outlined. His analysis from 1880 of auroral observations from Greenland prepared for the significant contributions from the Danish Meteorological Institute, DMI, (founded in 1872) to the first International Polar Year 1882/83, where an expedition headed by Adam Paulsen was sent to Greenland to conduct auroral and geomagnetic observations. Paulsen's analyses of the collected data gave many important results but also raised many new questions that gave rise to auroral expeditions to Iceland in 1899 to 1900 and to Finland in 1900 to 1901. Among the results from these expeditions were 26 unique paintings of the auroras made by the artist painter, Harald Moltke. The expedition to Finland was headed by Dan la Cour, who later as director of the DMI came to be in charge of the comprehensive international geomagnetic and auroral observations made during the Second International Polar Year in 1932/33. Finally, the article describes the important investigations made by Knud Lassen during, among others, the International Geophysical Year 1957/58 and during the International Quiet Sun Year (IQSY) in 1964/65. With his leadership the auroral and geomagnetic research at DMI reached a high international level that came to be the background for the first Danish satellite, Ørsted, successfully launched in 1999 and still in operation.

The aim of the present article is to analyse how selected minority language newspapers have been adopting to the challenges, as well as the opportunities linked to digitalization. This is approached in a long-term perspective, and thus also takes into account the most recent changes implemented as a response to the Covid-19 pandemic. The analysed outlets are Berria (a Basque language newspaper published in Spain), Der Nordschleswiger (a German language newspaper published in Denmark), Flensborg Avis (a Danish language newspaper published in Germany) and Nós Diario (a Galician language newspaper published in Spain). Each is characterized by a strong and multifaceted digital presence, in combination with the availability of a print edition albeit in varying frequency. The analysis is anchored in a broad theoretical reflection concerning the nexus between digitalization and minority language media, whereas methodologically it draws from three main sources: interviews with staff members of each newspaper, articles published by the newspapers in terms of self-reporting on the digitalization-related aspects, and available annual reports. With regard to the findings, the analysis paints a picture of the complex, long-term and continuous adaptation strategies of the considered newspapers to the digital context, with the pandemic period resulting in consolidation rather than in major modifications. Only in the case of Flensborg Avis can the issue of a relative deepening of the digital shift be mentioned, although this is also against the backdrop of previously initiated digitalization-related changes. Consequently, this comparative study offers a unique consideration of both kin and non- kin state situations, showing that certain trends can be observed in contrasting linguistic and institutional settings; however without identifying a clear best practice model.

In the Garden of EdenThe covers of the first three volumes of Kuml show photographs of fine Danish antiquities. Inside the volumes have articles on the Stone Age, the Bronze Age and the Iron Age in Jutland, which is to be expected as Kuml is published by the Jutland Archaeological Society. However, in 1954 the scene is moved to more southern skies. This year, the cover is dominated by a date palm with two huge burial mounds in the background. In side the book one reads no less than six articles on the results from the First Danish Archaeological Bahrain Expedition. P.V. Glob begins with: Bahrain – Island of the Hundred Thousand Burial Mounds, The Flint Sites of the Bahrain Desert, Temples at Barbar and The Ancient Capital of Bahrain, followed by Bibby’s Five among Bahrain’s Hundred Thousand Burial Mounds and The Well of the Bulls. The following years, reports on excavations on Bahrain and later in the sheikhdoms of Qatar, Kuwait and Abu Dhabi are on Kuml’s repertoire.However, it all ends wit h the festschrift to mark Glob’s 60th anniversary, Kuml 1970, which has three articles on Arab archaeology and a single article in 1972. For the past thirty years almost, the journal has not had a single article on Arabia. Why is that? Primarily because the character of the museum’s work in the Arabian Gulf changed completely. The pioneers’ years of large-scale reconnaissance and excavations were succeeded by labourous studies of the excavated material – the necessary work preceding the final publications. Only in Abu Dhabi and Oman, Karen Frifelt carried on the pioneer spirit through the 1970s and 1980s, but she mainly published her results in in ternational, Englishlanguage journals.Consequently, the immediate field reports ended, but the subsequent research into Arab archaeology – carried out at the writing desk and with the collections of finds– still crept into Kuml. From 1973 , the journal contained a list of the publications made by the Jutland Archaeological Society (abbreviated JASP), and here, the Arab monographs begin to make their entry. The first ones are Holger Kapel’s Atlas of the Stone Age Cultures of Qatar from 1967 and Geoffrey Bibby’s survey in eastern Saudi Arabia from 1973. Then comes the Hellenistic excavations on the Failaka island in Kuwait with Hans Erik Mathiesen’s treatise on the terracotta figurines (1982), Lise Hannestad’s work on the ceramics (1983) and Kristian Jeppesen’s presentation of the temple and the fortifications (1989). A similar series on the Bronze Age excavations on Failaka has started with Poul Kjærum’s first volume on the stamp and cylinder seals (1983) and Flemming Højlund’s presentation of the ceramics (1987). The excavations on the island of Umm an-Nar in Abu Dhabi was published by Karen Frifelt in two volumes on the settlement (1991) and the graves (1995), and the ancient capital of Bahrain was analysed by H. Hellmuth Andersen and Flemming Højlund in two volumes on the northern city wall and the Islamic fort (1994) and the central, monumental buildings (1997) respectively.More is on its way! A volume on Islamic finds made on Bahrain has just been made ready for printing, and the Bronze Age temples at the village of Barbar is being worked up. Danish and foreign scholars are preparing other volumes, but the most important results of the expeditions to the Arabian Gulf have by now been published in voluminous series.With this, an era has ended, and Moesgård Museum’s 50th anniversary in 1999 was a welcome opportunity of looking back at the Arabian Gulf effort through the exhibition Glob and the Garden ef Eden. The Danish Bahrain expeditions and to consider what will happen in the future.How then is the relation ship between Moesgård Museum and Bahrain today, twenty-three years after the last expedition – now that most of the old excavations have been published and the two originators of the expeditions, P.V. Glob and Geoffrey Bibby have both died?In Denmark we usually consider Bahrain an exotic country with an exciting past. However, in Bahrain there is a similar fascination of Denmark and of Moesgård Museum. The Bahrain people are wondering why Danish scholars have been interested in their small island for so many years. It was probably not a coincidence when in the 1980s archaeologist and ethnographers from Moesgård Museum were invited to take part in the furnishing of the exhibitions in the new national museum of Bahrain. Today, museum staff from Arab countries consider a trip to Moesgård a near-pilgrimage: our collection of Near East artefacts from all the Gulf countries is unique, and the ethnographic collections are unusual in that they were collected with thorough information on the use, the users and the origin of each item.The Bahrain fascination of Moesgård Museum. was also evident, when the Bahrain minister of education, Abdulaziz Al-Fadl, visited the museum in connection with the opening of the Bahrain exhibition in 1999.Al-Fadl visited the museum’s oriental department, and in the photo and film archive a book with photos taken by Danish members of the expeditions to the Arabian Gulf was handed over to him. Al-Fadl was absorbed by the photos of the Bahrain of his childhood – the 1950s and 1960s – an un spoilt society very different from the modern Bahrain. His enthusiasm was not lessened when he saw a photo of his father standing next to P.V. Glob and Sheikh Salman Al Khalifa taken at the opening of Glob’s first archaeological exhibition in Manama, the capital. At a banquet given by Elisabeth Gerner Nielsen, the Danish minister of culture, on the evening following the opening of the Glob exhibition at Moesgård, Al-Fadl revealed that as a child, he had been on a school trip to the Danish excavations where – on the edge of the excavation – he had his first lesson in Bahrain’s prehistory from a Danish archaeologist (fig. 1).Another example: When attending the opening of an art exhibition at Bahrain’s Art Centre in February 1999, I met an old Bahrain painter, Abdelkarim Al-Orrayed, who turned out to be a good friend of the Danish painter Karl Bovin, who took part in Glob’s expeditions. He told me, how in 1956, Bovin had exhibited his paintings in a school in Manama. He recalled Bovin sitting in his Arabian tunic in a corner of the room, playing a flute, which he had carved in Sheikh Ibrahim’s garden.In a letter, Al-Orrayed states: ”I remember very well the day in 1956, when I met Karl Bovin for the first time. He was drawin g some narrow roads in the residential area where I lived. I followed him closely with my friend Hussain As-Suni – we were twentythree and twenty-one years old respectively. When he had finished, I invited him to my house where I showed him my drawings. He looked at them closely and gave me good advice to follow if I wanted to become a skilful artist – such as focusing on lines, form, light, distance, and shadow. He encouraged me to practice outdoors and to use different models. It was a turning point in our young artists’ lives when Hussein and I decided to follow Bovin’s instructions. We went everywhere – to the teahouses, the markets, the streets, and the countryside – and practised there, but the sea was the most fascinating phenomenon to us. In my book, An Introduction to Modern Art in Bahrain, I wrote about Bovin’s exhibitions in the 1950s and his great influence on me as an artist. Bovin’s talent inspired us greatly in rediscovering the nature and landscape on Bahrain and gave us the feeling that we had much strength to invest in art. Bovin contributed to a new start to us young painters, who had chosen the nature as our main motif.”Abdelkarim Al-Orrayed was the first Bahrain painter to live of his art, and around 1960 he opened a studio from which he sold his paintings. Two of his landscape watercolours are now at Moesgård.These two stories may have revealed that Bahrain and Moesgard Museum have a common history, which both parts value and wish to continue. The mutual fascination is a good foundation to build on and the close bonds and personal acquaintance between by now more generations is a valuable counterbalance to those tendencies that estrange people, cultures, and countries from one another.Already, more joint projects have been initiated: Danish archaeology students are taking part in excavations on Bahrain and elsewhere in the Arabic Gulf; an ethnography student is planning a long stay in a village on Bahrain for the study of parents’ expectations to their children on Bahrain as compared with the conditions in Denmark; P.V. Glob’s book, Al-Bahrain, has been translated into Arabic; Moesgård’s photos and films from the Gulf are to become universally accessible via the Internet; an exhibition on the Danish expeditions is being prepared at the National Museum of Bahrain, and so forth.Two projects are to be described in more detail here: New excavations on Bahrain that are to investigate how fresh water was exploited in the past, and the publication of a book and three CDs, Music in Bahrain, which will make Bahrain’s traditional music accessible not just to the population of Bahrain, but to the whole world.New excavations on BahrainFor millennia, Bahrain was famous for its abundance of fresh water springs, which made a belt of oases across the northern half of the island possible. Natural fertility combined with the favourable situation in the middle of the Arab Gulf made Bahrain a cultural and commercial centre that traded with the cities of Mesopotamia and the IndusValley already in the third millennium BC.Fresh water also played an important part in Bahrain’s ancient religion, as seen from ar chaeological excavations and Mesopotamian cuneiform tablets: A magnificent temple of light limestone was built over a spring, and according to old texts, water was the gods’ gift to Bahrain (Dilmun).Although fresh water had an overwhelming importance to a parched desert island, no studies have been directed towards the original ”taming” of the water on Bahrain. Therefore, Moesgård Museum is now beginning to look into the earliest irrigation techniques on the island and their significance to Bahrain’s development.Near the Bahrain village of Barbar, P.V. Glob in 1954 discovered a rise in the landscape, which was excavated during the following years. It turned out that the mound covered three different temples, built on top of and around each other. The Barbar temple was built of whitish ashlars and must have been an impressive structure. It has also gained a special importance in Near East research, as this is the first and only time that the holy spring chamber, the abzu, where the god Enki lived, has been un earthed (fig. 2).On the western side of the Barbar temple a monumental flight of steps, flank ed on both sides by cult figures, was leading through a portal to an underground chamber with a fresh water spring. In the beautiful ashlar walls of this chamber were three openings, through which water flowed. Only the eastern out flow was investigated, as the outside of an underground stonebuilt aqueduct was found a few metres from the spring chamber.East of the temple another underground aqueduct was followed along a 16-m distance. It was excavated at two points and turned out almost to have the height of a man. The floor was covered with large stones with a carved canal and the ceiling was built of equally large stones (fig. 3).No doubt the spring chamber was a central part of the temple, charge d with great importance. However, the function of the aqueducts is still unknown. It seems obvious that they were to lead the fresh water away from the source chamber, but was this part of a completely ritual arrangement, or was the purpose to transport the water to the gardens to be used for irrigation?To clarify these questions we will try to trace the continuations of the aqueducts using different tracing techniques such as georadar and magnetometer. As the sur roundings of Barbar temple are covered by several metres of shifting sand, the possibilities of following the aqueducts are fine, if necessary even across a great distance, and if they turn out to lead to old gardens, then these may be exposed under the sand.Underground water canals of a similar construction, drawing water from springs or subsoil water, have been used until modern times on Bahrain, and they are still in use in Iran and on the Arabian Peninsula, especially in Oman, where they supply the gardens with water for irrigation. They are called qanats and are usually considered built by the Persians during periods when the Achaemenid or Sassanid kings controlled Arabia (c. 500 BC-c. 600 AD). However, new excavation results from the Oman peninsula indicate that at least some canal systems date from c. 1000 BC. It is therefore of utmost interest if similar sophisticated transportation systems for water on Bahrain may be proven to date from the time of the erection of the Barbar temple, i.e. c. 2000 BC.The finds suggest that around this time Bahrain underwent dramatic changes. From being a thinly inhabited island during most of the 3rd millennium BC, the northern part of the island suddenly had extensive burial grounds, showing a rapid increase in population. At the same time the major settlement on the northern coast was fortified, temples like the one at Barbar were built, and gigantic ”royal mounds” were built in the middle of the island – all pointing at a hierarchic society coming into existence.This fast social development of Dilmun must have parallelled efficiency in the exploitation of fresh water resources for farm ing to supply a growing population with the basic food, and perhaps this explains the aqueducts by Barbar?The planned excavatio ns will be carried out in close cooperation between the National Museum of Bahrain and Aarhus University, and they are supported financially by the Carlsberg Foundation and Bahrain’s Cabinet and Information Ministry.The music of BahrainThe composer Poul Rovsing Olsen (1922-1982) was inspired by Arab and Indian music, and he spent a large part of his life studying traditional music in the countries along the Arabian Gulf. In 1958 and 1962-63 he took part in P.V. Glob’s expeditions to Arabia as a music ethnologist and in the 1970s he organised stays of long duration here (fig. 4).The background for his musical fieldwork was the rapid development, which the oil finds in the Gulf countries had started. The local folk music would clearly disappear with the trades and traditions with which they were connected.” If no one goes pearl fishing anymore, then no one will need the work songs connected to this work. And if no one marries according to tradition with festivity lasting three or sometimes five days, then no one will need the old wedding songs anymore’’.It was thus in the last moment that Rovsing Olsen recorded the pearl fishers’ concerts, the seamen’s shanties, the bedouin war songs, the wedding music, the festival music etc. on his tape recorder. By doing this he saved a unique collection of song and music, which is now stored in the Dansk Folkemindesamling in Copenhagen. It comprises around 150 tapes and more than 700 pieces of music. The instruments are to be found at the Musikhistorisk Museum and Moesgård Museum (fig. 5).During the 1960s and 1970s Rovsing Olsen published a number of smaller studies on music from the Arabian Gulf, which established his name as the greatest connoisseur of music from this area – a reputation, which the twenty years that have passed since his death have not shaken. Rovsing Olsen also published an LP record with pearl fisher music, and with the music ethnologist Jean Jenkins from the Horniman Museum in London he published six LP records, Music in the World of Islam with seven numbers from the Arabian Gulf, and the book Music and Musical Instruments in the World of Islam (London 1976).Shortly before his death, Rovsing Olsen finished a comprehensive manuscript in English, Music in Bahrain, where he summed up nearly twenty-five years of studies into folk music along the Arabian Gulf, with the main emphasis on Bahrain. The manuscript has eleven chapters, and after a short introduction Rovsing Olsen deals with musical instruments, lute music, war and honour songs of the bedouins, festivity dance, working songs and concerts of the pearl fishers, music influenced front Africa, double clarinet and bag pipe music, religious songs and women’s songs. Of these, eighty-four selected pieces of music are reproduced with notes and commented in the text. A large selection of this music will be published on three CDs to go with the book.This work has been anticipated with great expectation by music ethnologists and connoisseurs of Arabic folk music, and in agreement with Rovsing Olsen’s widow, Louise Lerche-Lerchenborg and Dansk Folkemindesamling, Moesgård Museum is presently working on publishing the work.The publication is managed by the Jutland Archaeological Society and Aarhus University Press will manage the distribution. The Carlsberg Foundation and Bahrain’s Cabinet and Information Ministry will cover the editing and printing expenses.The publication of the book and the CDs on the music of Bahrain will be celebrated at a festivity on Bahrain, at the next annual cultural festival, the theme of which will be ”mutual inspiration across cultural borders” with a focus on Rovsing Olsen. In this context, Den Danske Trio Anette Slaato will perform A Dream in Violet, a music piece influenced by Arabic music. On the same occasion singers and musicians will present the traditional pearl fishers’ music from Bahrain. In connection with the concert on Bahrain, a major tour has been planned in cooperation with The Danish Institute in Damascus, where the Danish musicians will also perform in Damascus and Beirut and give ”masterclasses” in chamber music on the local music academies. The concert tour is being organised by Louise Lerche-Lerchenborg, who initiated one of the most important Danish musical events, the Lerchenborg Musical Days,in 1963 and organised them for thirty years.ConclusionPride of concerted effort is not a special Danish national sport. However,the achievements in the Arabian Gulf made by the Danish expeditions from the Århus museum are recognised everywhere. It is only fair to use this jubilee volume for drawing attention to the fact that the journal Kuml and the publications of the Jutland Archaeological Society were the instruments through which the epoch-making investigations in the Gulf were nude public nationally and internationally.Finally, the cooperationon interesting tasks between Moesgård Museum and the countries along the Arabian Gulf will continue. In the future, Kuml will again be reporting on new excavations in the palm shadows and eventually, larger investigation s will no doubt find their way to the society’s comprehensive volumes.Flemming HøjlundMoesgård MuseumTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Historical Aspect; concerning the Civil Liberals against GrundtvigBy Poul DamFor eleven years, viz. 1826-1837, Grundtvig had to submit all that he wanted to publish in Denmark to the public censor. A prolific and serious writer like Grundtvig must necessarily have felt this as highly embarrassing, and many of his biographers have painted his ordeal in dark colours, in fact much darker than Grundtvig did himself.Certain facts have indeed been misunderstood to such an extent that even very competent writers have believed and repeated distorted and/or simplified renderings of the actual background.In 1826 Grundtvig published a very harsh attack on a book by the theologian H.N. Clausen, who reacted by bringing a civil libel case against Grundtvig. The court found him guilty of using unseemly language, but not of libelling Clausen, and fined him quite leniently. The probably unforeseen consequence of the sentence, which is quoted in full in the article, was, however, to make Grundtvig subject to lifelong censorship. This was not mentioned at all in the court proceedings, however, since it followed without in all cases when the accused was not acquitted completely. Consequently Grundtvig was not actually sentenced to censorship. The law was modified in 1837 in such a way that Grundtvig could ask to be exempted from censorship, and this happened towards the end of that year.His first book after that to be published without the despicable »imprimatur« of the censor contained a rather long poem about the mother tongue, quite literally defined as the tongue of the mother, of women. A short selection of the verses from this poem has been used as a »national« song praising the Danish language, and this may explain why some writers believe the poem to have been written in a joyful mood directly after the lifting of the censorship. That is an unsubstantiated and more than doubtful construction, however, as nothing in the poem points to a connection with Grundtvig’s actual experiences in 1837.In addition, the article stresses that Grundtvig and Clausen did not remain enemies for life, as many writers have suggested. Both of them came to regard the bitter fight of 1826 as something to regret.

Skjern Castle – an archaeological investigation of a castle through the Middle Ages and RenaissanceIn the very middle of the river Nørreå’s extensive meadowlands, 15 km west of Randers, lies the striking castle mound of Gammel Skjern. During the Middle Ages and Renaissance period this site was the centre of a manorial complex which at times was one of the largest in Denmark and some of the country’s most influential noble families resided here. Its location, where the highway between Viborg and Randers crosses the river today, was one of the few good crossing points over Nørreå (fig. 1). A major transport junction such as this was of strategic interest; here it was possible to both display and exert power.Concentrated around this ford location we find two rune stones, the parish church, the significant fortification of Gammel Skjern itself and its successor, the manor Skjern Hovedgård. In addition, there was also settlement here during Viking times and the Middle Ages, as well as a mill. Skjern parish extends along both sides of Nørreå. This is unusual as watercourses often form boundaries, and it must be presumed to reflect the family’s strong position of power in the area during the Late Viking period and Early Middle Ages. The area’s cultural topography shows that very extensive changes took place in settlement structure during the course of Viking times and the Middle Ages.Skjern Church is a small Romanesque ashlar building from around AD 1200. Today, it stands alone, but metal detector finds and aerial reconnaissance show that there was a settlement here from the 8th to the 14th century (fig. 2). This settlement can presumably be linked to the high-ranking farming family which, in the Late Viking Age, permitted itself to be commemorated on two rune stones. These stones stand today by the church: a monumental and well-preserved stone bearing a mask (fig. 3) and a slightly smaller fragment on which only a few words can be deciphered. The large mask stone was found in 1843 at the castle mound and the fragment in the church’s foundation wall at the end of the 1830s. They probably originally stood by the ford. Here people passed by, here the stones were seen, the family remembered and the power demonstrated and consolidated.In connection with the turbulent times of the 14th century, the magnate farm moved for defensive reasons away from the church and out to a stronghold in the bog (fig. 4). In the 1840s, a large amount of earth was dug away from the fortification and on this occasion the east wing of the castle and a little of both the north and south wings were exposed. From Kruuse’s survey, carried out in 1843, we know that a four-winged structure stood on the platform (figs. 5-6). In the summers of 2001-4 and 2006, the Department of Medieval and Renaissance Archaeology at the University of Aarhus carried out a small archaeological investigation of the structure. As a significant proportion of the fortification is scheduled, the excavations took place by special permission and on the condition that fixed constructions were not removed. In parallel with this, a detailed contour survey was carried out of the area (fig. 7), as well as a geophysical/magnetometer survey of parts of the site and a number of dendrochronological dates were obtained from bridges and bank constructions (fig. 8). As the excavation only constituted a minor intervention, the extent of the finds and the building components located is very limited and these give only a small insight into the life and the activities which have taken place at the castle (figs. 22-29).On the basis of the archaeological investigations it is possible to sketch the development of the stronghold from a single platform to a striking defensive complex with several banks and ditches (fig. 30). The front and middle bank, and also the main platform, were. Many of the posts are still visible in the wet meadow, and the closely-spaced stakes show that the bridge piers were replaced as many as six or seven times. Samples were taken for dendrochronological dating from the posts in two bridge piers, one pier from each bridge. The earliest dendrochronological date is AD 1335 and the latest is after AD 1492. The fact that the earliest bridge phase is not represented in both of the bridge piers investigated, and that the castle’s 16-17th century phase is not represented at all, shows that the bays were moved somewhat through time. Accordingly, the dates do not, thereby, cover the total life of the castle.The stronghold was constructed in the meadows in AD 1335, or perhaps even earlier. Consequently, it is finally possible to link Lord High Steward Peder Vendelbo’s previously unknown ‘Karmark Castle’, as it is referred to in AD 1340, and the Skjern Castle, which are mentioned in the Lord High Steward’s estate in 1347 as being one and the same structure. The excavation provided a tiny glimpse of the surface of the oldest castle, almost 2 m below the courtyard of the Renaissance castle, the present-day surface of the main platform. The platform was in its first phase only about 1 m high. The magnetometer survey of the main platform revealed weak and deeper-lying deflections, presumably from an earlier structure of approximately the same extent as the familiar structure from the Late Middle Ages and Renaissance. The earliest castle appears merely to have consisted of this platform, linked to dry land and the farm buildings by a 60 m long wooden bridge and a 175 m long turf-built causeway in continuation of this.In 1392/93, Kristian Vendelbo extended the structure with a lateral bank to the east of the main bank. He was probably also responsible for a corresponding (undated) bank to the west as well as a bank to the north of here, the middle bank. He was loyal to Queen Margrethe at a time when the magnates of Jutland were against her, and he needed a strong castle. In the construction of the left lateral bank, use was made of a natural sand bank in the terrain. Only very few traces of activity were preserved here. The eastern lateral bank was constructed of turf. The inner side of the bank was partially reinforced with hammered-in posts which have been dated dendrochronologically to AD 1392 and AD 1392/93 (fig. 12). On the middle bank, which functioned as a paddock, foundations and floor layers relating to four buildings were recorded. One of the buildings could be identified as a gateway; another was probably a tower (figs. 9-11). Due to the limited extent of the excavation, it has not been possible to relate these buildings to Kruuse’s plan. This was also the case with the results of the magnetometer survey. The bank was built of turf and slightly raised in height using demolition material from brick-built buildings. A reinforcement of the edge comprising large field boulders was supplemented with a row of robust posts. Dendrochronological dating of these to AD 1461/62 shows that the middle bank was either established or reinforced at this time.In AD 1465/66, Lord High Steward Erik Ottesen Rosenkrantz carried out a further extensive reinforcement of the castle, this time with a cover bank to the east and west of the front bank in continuation of the causeway. Structures in the terrain suggest that a building stood in the eastern part of the front bank. To the west, the cover bank had a robust post construction, presumably a palisade. A corresponding construction is not seen at the eastern cover bank. Whether this is due to the posts having been removed, or whether the bank facing out towards the open bog was not as heavily fortified, is unknown. The eastern cover bank was built on to the eastern lateral bank, and the increased width provided sufficient space for a building (fig. 13). Dendrochronological dating of the constructional timbers to after AD 1465 shows that this could have been built immediately following the extension. Faint traces in the terrain to the south of the main bank indicate yet another cover bank.During this phase at the latest, the height of the main platform was raised to around 3 m above the surrounding terrain. The complex had four wings and two stair turrets towards the north around an enclosed castle courtyard. Towards the west, remains of standing walls can still be seen. It is not inconceivable that at least the core of the building complex can be attributed to Erik Ottesen. On the latter’s death, the value of the buildings was assessed at 7000 marks, a considerable sum. The archaeological investigations have only touched upon the east wing which was the part most exposed by the earth removal in the 19th century (fig. 14). A comparison between Kruuse’s elevation plan of the east wall and its present state reveals the degree of the destruction (figs. 15-16). The best preserved wall was that in towards the castle courtyard, with 12 courses. The building was built with a cellar covered by a flat barrel vault (fig. 17). The west wall had subsided very heavily, and this definitely contributed to or was the main reason that the cellar vault and possibly also parts of the wing at some time or other collapsed. The cellar was subsequently filled up with building materials. Pieces of the painted window panes and a terracotta base from a facade ornament from the final quarter of the 16th century show that the building may have been beautifully fitted out according to the latest fashion of the times (figs. 18-20). On top of the filled-in cellar, new light foundations were laid as the basis for joists for a floor or internal partition walls on the ground floor. After 1561, when Christoffer Nielsen died, the manor estate underwent a drastic process of division, and there appear not to have been obvious investors for new prestige building works. It is therefore interesting that several alterations could have been carried out during this period. The excavation also touched upon parts of foundations belonging to the castle’s NE stair turret (fig. 21). The tower proved to be secondary to the east wing, and its tile floor was laid on top of the existing cobbled pavement of the castle courtyard.During the second half of the 16th century, a hurried division of the manor began, and by the 17th century only three large farmsteads remained.Jan KockMette Svart KristiansenAfdeling for Middelalder- og Renæssancearkæologi Aarhus Universitet

We’ll have trouble now!The Archaeological Society of Jutland was founded on Sunday, 11 March 1951. As with most projects with which P.V Glob was involved, this did not pass off without drama. Museum people and amateur archaeologists in large numbers appeared at the Museum of Natural History in Aarhus, which had placed rooms at our disposal. The notable dentist Holger Friis, the uncrowned king of Hjørring, was present, as was Dr Balslev from Aidt, Mr and Mrs Overgaard from Holstebro Museum, and the temperamental leader of Aalborg Historical Museum, Peter Riismøller, with a number of his disciples. The staff of the newly-founded Prehistoric Museum functioned as the hosts, except that one of them was missing: the instigator of the whole enterprise, Mr Glob. As the time for the meeting approached, a cold sweat broke out on the foreheads of the people present. Finally, just one minute before the meeting was to start, he arrived and mounted the platform. Everything then went as expected. An executive committee was elected after some discussion, laws were passed, and then suddenly Glob vanished again, only to materialise later in the museum, where he confided to us that his family, which included four children, had been enlarged by a daughter.That’s how the society was founded, and there is not much to add about this. However, a few words concerning the background of the society and its place in a larger context may be appropriate. A small piece of museum history is about to be unfolded.The story begins at the National Museum in the years immediately after World War II, at a time when the German occupation and its incidents were still terribly fresh in everyone’s memory. Therkel Mathiassen was managing what was then called the First Department, which covered the prehistoric periods.Although not sparkling with humour, he was a reliable and benevolent person. Number two in the order of precedence was Hans Christian Broholm, a more colourful personality – awesome as he walked down the corridors, with his massive proportions and a voice that sounded like thunder when nothing seemed to be going his way, as quite often seemed to be the case. Glob, a relatively new museum keeper, was also quite loud at times – his hot-blooded artist’s nature manifested itself in peculiar ways, but his straight forward appearance made him popular with both the older and the younger generations. His somewhat younger colleague C.J. Becker was a scholar to his fingertips, and he sometimes acted as a welcome counterbalance to Glob. At the bottom of the hierarchy was the student group, to which I belonged. The older students handled various tasks, including periodic excavations. This was paid work, and although the salary was by no means princely, it did keep us alive. Student grants were non-existent at the time. Four of us made up a team: Olfert Voss, Mogens Ørsnes, Georg Kunwald and myself. Like young people in general, we were highly discontented with the way our profession was being run by its ”ruling” members, and we were full of ideas for improvement, some of which have later been – or are being – introduced.At the top of our wish list was a central register, of which Voss was the strongest advocate. During the well over one hundred years that archaeology had existed as a professional discipline, the number of artefacts had grown to enormous amounts. The picture was even worse if the collections of the provincial museums were taken into consideration. We imagined how it all could be registered in a card index and categorised according to groups to facilitate access to references in any particular situation. Electronic data processing was still unheard of in those days, but since the introduction of computers, such a comprehensive record has become more feasible.We were also sceptical of the excavation techniques used at the time – they were basically adequate, but they badly needed tightening up. As I mentioned before, we were often working in the field, and not just doing minor jobs but also more important tasks, so we had every opportunity to try out our ideas. Kunwald was the driving force in this respect, working with details, using sections – then a novelty – and proceeding as he did with a thoroughness that even his fellow students found a bit exaggerated at times, although we agreed with his principles. Therkel Mathiassen moaned that we youngsters were too expensive, but he put up with our excesses and so must have found us somewhat valuable. Very valuable indeed to everyon e was Ejnar Dyggve’s excavation of the Jelling mounds in the early 1940s. From a Danish point of view, it was way ahead of its time.Therkel Mathiassen justly complained about the economic situation of the National Museum. Following the German occupation, the country was impoverished and very little money was available for archaeological research: the total sum available for the year 1949 was 20,000 DKK, which corresponded to the annual income of a wealthy man, and was of course absolutely inadequate. Of course our small debating society wanted this sum to be increased, and for once we didn’t leave it at the theoretical level.Voss was lucky enough to know a member of the Folketing (parliament), and a party leader at that. He was brought into the picture, and between us we came up with a plan. An article was written – ”Preserve your heritage” (a quotation from Johannes V. Jensen’s Denmark Song) – which was sent to the newspaper Information. It was published, and with a little help on our part the rest of the media, including radio, picked up the story.We informed our superiors only at the last minute, when everything was arranged. They were taken by surprise but played their parts well, as expected, and everything went according to plan. The result was a considerable increase in excavation funds the following year.It should be added that our reform plans included the conduct of exhibitions. We found the traditional way of presenting the artefacts lined up in rows and series dull and outdated. However, we were not able to experiment within this field.Our visions expressed the natural collision with the established ways that comes with every new generation – almost as a law of nature, but most strongly when the time is ripe. And this was just after the war, when communication with foreign colleagues, having been discontinued for some years, was slowly picking up again. The Archaeological Society of Jutland was also a part of all this, so let us turn to what Hans Christian Andersen somewhat provocatively calls the ”main country”.Until 1949, only the University of Copenhagen provided a degree in prehistoric archaeology. However, in this year, the University of Aarhus founded a chair of archaeology, mainly at the instigation of the Lord Mayor, Svend Unmack Larsen, who was very in terested in archaeology. Glob applied for the position and obtained it, which encompassed responsibility for the old Aarhus Museum or, as it was to be renamed, the Prehistoric Museum (now Moesgaard Museum).These were landmark events to Glob – and to me, as it turned out. We had been working together for a number of years on the excavation of Galgebakken (”Callows Hill”) near Slots Bjergby, Glob as the excavation leader, and I as his assistant. He now offered me the job of museum curator at his new institution. This was somewhat surprising as I had not yet finished my education. The idea was that I was to finish my studies in remote Jutland – a plan that had to be given up rather quickly, though, for reasons which I will describe in the following. At the same time, Gunner Lange-Kornbak – also hand-picked from the National Museum – took up his office as a conservation officer.The three of us made up the permanent museum staff, quickly supplemented by Geoffrey Bibby, who turned out to be an invaluable colleague. He was English and had been stationed in the Faeroe Islands during the war, where he learned to speak Danish. After 1945 he worked for some years for an oil company in the Gulf of Persia, but after marrying Vibeke, he settled in her home town of Aarhus. As his academic background had involved prehistoric cultures he wanted to collaborate with the museum, which Glob readily permitted.This small initial flock governed by Glob was not permitted to indulge inidleness. Glob was a dynamic character, full of good and not so good ideas, but also possessing a good grasp of what was actually practicable. The boring but necessary daily work on the home front was not very interesting to him, so he willingly handed it over to others. He hardly noticed the lack of administrative machinery, a prerequisite for any scholarly museum. It was not easy to follow him on his flights of fancy and still build up the necessary support base. However, the fact that he in no way spared himself had an appeasing effect.Provincial museums at that time were of a mixed nature. A few had trained management, and the rest were run by interested locals. This was often excellently done, as in Esbjerg, where the master joiner Niels Thomsen and a staff of volunteers carried out excavations that were as good as professional investigations, and published them in well-written articles. Regrettably, there were also examples of the opposite. A museum curator in Jutland informed me that his predecessor had been an eager excavator but very rarely left any written documentation of his actions. The excavated items were left without labels in the museum store, often wrapped in newspapers. However, these gave a clue as to the time of unearthing, and with a bit of luck a look in the newspaper archive would then reveal where the excavation had taken place. Although somewhat exceptional, this is not the only such case.The Museum of Aarhus definitely belonged among the better ones in this respect. Founded in 1861, it was at first located at the then town hall, together with the local art collection. The rooms here soon became too cramped, and both collections were moved to a new building in the ”Mølleparken” park. There were skilful people here working as managers and assistants, such as Vilhelm Boye, who had received his archaeological training at the National Museum, and later the partners A. Reeh, a barrister, and G.V. Smith, a captain, who shared the honour of a number of skilfully performed excavations. Glob’s predecessor as curator was the librarian Ejler Haugsted, also a competent man of fine achievements. We did not, thus, take over a museum on its last legs. On the other hand, it did not meet the requirements of a modern scholarly museum. We were given the task of turning it into such a museum, as implied by the name change.The goal was to create a museum similar to the National Museum, but without the faults and shortcomings that that museum had developed over a period of time. In this respect our nightly conversations during our years in Copenhagen turned out to be useful, as our talk had focused on these imperfections and how to eradicate them.We now had the opportunity to put our theories into practice. We may not have succeeded in doing so, but two areas were essentially improved:The numerous independent numbering systems, which were familiar to us from the National Museum, were permeating archaeological excavation s not only in the field but also during later work at the museum. As far as possible this was boiled down to a single system, and a new type of report was born. (In this context, a ”report” is the paper following a field investigation, comprising drawings, photos etc. and describing the progress of the work and the observations made.) The instructions then followed by the National Museum staff regarding the conduct of excavations and report writing went back to a 19th-century protocol by the employee G.V. Blom. Although clear and rational – and a vast improvement at the time – this had become outdated. For instance, the excavation of a burial mound now involved not only the middle of the mound, containing the central grave and its surrounding artefacts, but the complete structure. A large number of details that no one had previously paid attention to thus had to be included in the report. It had become a comprehensive and time-consuming work to sum up the desultory notebook records in a clear and understandable description.The instructions resulting from the new approach determined a special records system that made it possible to transcribe the notebook almost directly into a report following the excavation. The transcription thus contained all the relevant information concerning the in vestigation, and included both relics and soil layers, the excavation method and practical matters, although in a random order. The report proper could then bereduced to a short account containing references to the numbers in the transcribed notebook, which gave more detailed information.As can be imagined, the work of reform was not a continuous process. On the contrary, it had to be done in our spare hours, which were few and far between with an employer like Glob. The assignments crowded in, and the large Jutland map that we had purchased was as studded with pins as a hedge hog’s spines. Each pin represented an inuninent survey, and many of these grew into small or large excavations. Glob himself had his lecture duties to perform, and although he by no means exaggerated his concern for the students, he rarely made it further than to the surveys. Bibby and I had to deal with the hard fieldwork. And the society, once it was established, did not make our lives any easier. Kuml demanded articles written at lightning speed. A perusal of my then diary has given me a vivid recollection of this hectic period, in which I had to make use of the evening and night hours, when the museum was quiet and I had a chance to collect my thoughts. Sometimes our faithful supporter, the Lord Mayor, popped in after an evening meeting. He was extremely interested in our problems, which were then solved according to our abilities over a cup of instant coffee.A large archaeological association already existed in Denmark. How ever, Glob found it necessary to establish another one which would be less oppressed by tradition. Det kongelige nordiske Oldsskriftselskab had been funded in 1825 and was still influenced by different peculiarities from back then. Membership was not open to everyone, as applications were subject to recommendation from two existing members and approval by a vote at one of the monthly lecture meetings. Most candidates were of course accepted, but unpopular persons were sometimes rejected. In addition, only men were admitted – women were banned – but after the war a proposal was brought forward to change this absurdity. It was rejected at first, so there was a considerable excitement at the January meeting in 1951, when the proposal was once again placed on the agenda. The poor lecturer (myself) did his best, although he was aware of the fact that just this once it was the present and not the past which was the focus of attention. The result of the voting was not very courteous as there were still many opponents, but the ladies were allowed in, even if they didn’t get the warmest welcome.In Glob’s society there were no such restrictions – everyone was welcome regardless of sex or age. If there was a model for the society, it was the younger and more progressive Norwegian Archaeological Society rather than the Danish one. The main purpose of both societies was to produce an annual publication, and from the start Glob’s Kuml had a closer resemblance to the Norwegian Viking than to the Danish Aarbøger for nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie. The name of the publication caused careful consideration. For a long time I kept a slip of paper with different proposals, one of which was Kuml, which won after having been approved by the linguist Peter Skautrup.The name alone, however, was not enough, so now the task became to find so mething to fill Kuml with. To this end the finds came in handy, and as for those, Glob must have allied him self with the higher powers, since fortune smiled at him to a considerable extent. Just after entering upon his duties in Aarhus, an archaeological sensation landed at his feet. This happened in May 1950 when I was still living in the capital. A few of us had planned a trip to Aarhus, partly to look at the relics of th e past, and partly to visit our friend, the professor. He greeted us warmly and told us the exciting news that ten iron swords had been found during drainage work in the valley of lllerup Aadal north of the nearby town of Skanderborg. We took the news calmly as Glob rarely understated his affairs, but our scepticism was misplaced. When we visited the meadow the following day and carefully examined the dug-up soil, another sword appeared, as well as several spear and lance heads, and other iron artefacts. What the drainage trench diggers had found was nothing less than a place of sacrifice for war booty, like the four large finds from the 1800s. When I took up my post in Aarhus in September of that year I was granted responsibility for the lllerup excavation, which I worked on during the autumn and the following six summers. Some of my best memories are associated with this job – an interesting and happy time, with cheerful comradeship with a mixed bunch of helpers, who were mainly archaeology students. When we finished in 1956, it was not because the site had been fully investigated, but because the new owner of the bog plot had an aversion to archaeologists and their activities. Nineteen years later, in 1975, the work was resumed, this time under the leadership of Jørgen Ilkjær, and a large amount of weaponry was uncovered. The report from the find is presently being published.At short intervals, the year 1952 brought two finds of great importance: in Februar y the huge vessel from Braa near Horsens, and in April the Grauballe Man. The large Celtic bronze bowl with the bulls’ heads was found disassembled, buried in a hill and covered by a couple of large stones. Thanks to the finder, the farmer Søren Paaske, work was stopped early enough to leave areas untouched for the subsequent examination.The saga of the Grauballe Man, or the part of it that we know, began as a rumour on the 26th of April: a skeleton had been found in a bog near Silkeborg. On the following day, which happened to be a Sunday, Glob went off to have a look at the find. I had other business, but I arrived at the museum in the evening with an acquaintance. In my diary I wrote: ”When we came in we had a slight shock. On the floor was a peat block with a corpse – a proper, well-preserved bog body. Glob brought it. ”We’ll be in trouble now.” And so we were, and Glob was in high spirits. The find created a sensation, which was also thanks to the quick presentation that we mounted. I had purchased a tape recorder, which cost me a packet – not a small handy one like the ones you get nowadays, but a large monstrosity with a steel tape (it was, after all, early days for this device) – and assisted by several experts, we taped a number of short lectures for the benefit of the visitors. People flocked in; the queue meandered from the exhibition room, through the museum halls, and a long way down the street. It took a long wait to get there, but the visitors seemed to enjoy the experience. The bog man lay in his hastily – procured exhibition case, which people circled around while the talking machine repeatedly expressed its words of wisdom – unfortunately with quite a few interruptions as the tape broke and had to be assembled by hand. Luckily, the tape recorders now often used for exhibitions are more dependable than mine.When the waves had died down and the exhibition ended, the experts examined the bog man. He was x-rayed at several points, cut open, given a tooth inspection, even had his fingerprints taken. During the autopsy there was a small mishap, which we kept to ourselves. However, after almost fifty years I must be able to reveal it: Among the organs removed for investigation was the liver, which was supposedly suitable for a C-14 dating – which at the time was a new dating method, introduced to Denmark after the war. The liver was sent to the laboratory in Copenhagen, and from here we received a telephone call a few days later. What had been sent in for examination was not the liver, but the stomach. The unfortunate (and in all other respects highly competent) Aarhus doctor who had performed the dissection was cal1ed in again. During another visit to the bogman’s inner parts he brought out what he believed to be the real liver. None of us were capable of deciding th is question. It was sent to Copenhagen at great speed, and a while later the dating arrived: Roman Iron Age. This result was later revised as the dating method was improved. The Grauballe Man is now thought to have lived before the birth of Christ.The preservation of the Grauballe Man was to be conservation officer Kornbak’s masterpiece. There were no earlier cases available for reference, so he invented a new method, which was very successful. In the first volumes of Kuml, society members read about the exiting history of the bog body and of the glimpses of prehistoric sacrificial customs that this find gave. They also read about the Bahrain expeditions, which Glob initiated and which became the apple of his eye. Bibby played a central role in this, as it was he who – at an evening gathering at Glob’s and Harriet’s home in Risskov – described his stay on the Persian Gulf island and the numerous burial mounds there. Glob made a quick decision (one of his special abilities was to see possibilities that noone else did, and to carry them out successfully to everyone’s surprise) and in December 1952 he and Bibby left for the Gulf, unaware of the fact that they were thereby beginning a series of expeditions which would continue for decades. Again it was Glob’s special genius that was the decisive factor. He very quickly got on friendly terms with the rulers of the small sheikhdoms and interested them in their past. As everyone knows, oil is flowing plentifully in those parts. The rulers were thus financially powerful and some of this wealth was quickly diverted to the expeditions, which probably would not have survived for so long without this assistance. To those of us who took part in them from time to time, the Gulf expeditions were an unforgettable experience, not just because of the interesting work, but even more because of the contact with the local population, which gave us an insight into local manners and customs that helped to explain parts of our own country’s past which might otherwise be difficult to understand. For Glob and the rest of us did not just get close to the elite: in spite of language problems, our Arab workers became our good friends. Things livened up when we occasionally turned up in their palm huts.Still, co-operating with Glob was not always an easy task – the sparks sometimes flew. His talent of initiating things is of course undisputed, as are the lasting results. He was, however, most attractive when he was in luck. Attention normally focused on this magnificent person whose anecdotes were not taken too seriously, but if something went wrong or failed to work out, he could be grossly unreasonable and a little too willing to abdicate responsibility, even when it was in fact his. This might lead to violent arguments, but peace was always restored. In 1954, another museum curator was attached to the museum: Poul Kjærum, who was immediately given the important task of investigating the dolmen settlement near Tustrup on Northern Djursland. This gave important results, such as the discovery of a cult house, which was a new and hitherto unknown Stone Age feature.A task which had long been on our mind s was finally carried out in 1955: constructing a new display of the museum collections. The old exhibitio n type consisted of numerous artefacts lined up in cases, accompaied ony by a brief note of the place where it was found and the type – which was the standard then. This type of exhibition did not give much idea of life in prehistoric times.We wanted to allow the finds to speak for themselves via the way that they were arranged, and with the aid of models, photos and drawings. We couldn’t do without texts, but these could be short, as people would understand more by just looking at the exhibits. Glob was in the Gulf at the time, so Kjærum and I performed the task with little money but with competent practical help from conservator Kornbak. We shared the work, but in fairness I must add that my part, which included the new lllerup find, was more suitable for an untraditional display. In order to illustrate the confusion of the sacrificial site, the numerous bent swords and other weapons were scattered a.long the back wall of the exhibition hall, above a bog land scape painted by Emil Gregersen. A peat column with inlaid slides illustrated the gradual change from prehistoric lake to bog, while a free-standing exhibition case held a horse’s skeleton with a broken skull, accompanied by sacrificial offerings. A model of the Nydam boat with all its oars sticking out hung from the ceiling, as did the fine copy of the Gundestrup vessel, as the Braa vessel had not yet been preserved. The rich pictorial decoration of the vessel’s inner plates was exhibited in its own case underneath. This was an exhibition form that differed considerably from all other Danish exhibitions of the time, and it quickly set a fashion. We awaited Glob’s homecoming with anticipation – if it wasn’t his exhibition it was still made in his spirit. We hoped that he would be surprised – and he was.The museum was thus taking shape. Its few employees included Jytte Ræbild, who held a key position as a secretary, and a growing number of archaeology students who took part in the work in various ways during these first years. Later, the number of employees grew to include the aforementioned excavation pioneer Georg Kunwald, and Hellmuth Andersen and Hans Jørgen Madsen, whose research into the past of Aarhus, and later into Danevirke is known to many, and also the ethnographer Klaus Ferdinand. And now Moesgaard appeared on the horizon. It was of course Glob’s idea to move everything to a manor near Aarhus – he had been fantasising about this from his first Aarhus days, and no one had raised any objections. Now there was a chance of fulfilling the dream, although the actual realisation was still a difficult task.During all this, the Jutland Archaeological Society thrived and attracted more members than expected. Local branches were founded in several towns, summer trips were arranged and a ”Worsaae Medal” was occasionally donated to persons who had deserved it from an archaeological perspective. Kuml came out regularly with contributions from museum people and the like-minded. The publication had a form that appealed to an inner circle of people interested in archaeology. This was the intention, and this is how it should be. But in my opinion this was not quite enough. We also needed a publication that would cater to a wider public and that followed the same basic ideas as the new exhibition.I imagined a booklet, which – without over-popularsing – would address not only the professional and amateur archaeologist but also anyone else interested in the past. The result was Skalk, which (being a branch of the society) published its fir t issue in the spring of 1957. It was a somewhat daring venture, as the financial base was weak and I had no knowledge of how to run a magazine. However, both finances and experience grew with the number of subscribers – and faster than expected, too. Skalk must have met an unsatisfied need, and this we exploited to the best of our ability with various cheap advertisements. The original idea was to deal only with prehistoric and medieval archaeology, but the historians also wanted to contribute, and not just the digging kind. They were given permission, and so the topic of the magazine ended up being Denmark’s past from the time of its first inhabitant s until the times remembered by the oldest of us – with the odd sideways leap to other subjects. It would be impossible to claim that Skalk was at the top of Glob’s wish list, but he liked it and supported the idea in every way. The keeper of national antiquities, Johannes Brøndsted, did the same, and no doubt his unreserved approval of the magazine contributed to its quick growth. Not all authors found it easy to give up technical language and express themselves in everyday Danish, but the new style was quickly accepted. Ofcourse the obligations of the magazine work were also sometimes annoying. One example from the diary: ”S. had promised to write an article, but it was overdue. We agreed to a final deadline and when that was overdue I phoned again and was told that the author had gone to Switzerland. My hair turned grey overnight.” These things happened, but in this particular case there was a happy ending. Another academic promised me three pages about an excavation, but delivered ten. As it happened, I only shortened his production by a third.The 1960s brought great changes. After careful consideration, Glob left us to become the keeper of national antiquities. One important reason for his hesitation was of course Moesgaard, which he missed out on – the transfer was almost settled. This was a great loss to the Aarhus museum and perhaps to Glob, too, as life granted him much greater opportunities for development.” I am not the type to regret things,” he later stated, and hopefully this was true. And I had to choose between the museum and Skalk – the work with the magazine had become too timeconsuming for the two jobs to be combined. Skalk won, and I can truthfully say that I have never looked back. The magazine grew quickly, and happy years followed. My resignation from the museum also meant that Skalk was disengaged from the Jutland Archaeological Society, but a close connection remained with both the museum and the society.What has been described here all happened when the museum world was at the parting of the ways. It was a time of innovation, and it is my opinion that we at the Prehistoric Museum contributed to that change in various ways.The new Museum Act of 1958 gave impetus to the study of the past. The number of archaeology students in creased tremendously, and new techniques brought new possibilities that the discussion club of the 1940s had not even dreamt of, but which have helped to make some of the visions from back then come true. Public in terest in archaeology and history is still avid, although to my regret, the ahistorical 1960s and 1970s did put a damper on it.Glob is greatly missed; not many of his kind are born nowadays. He had, so to say, great virtues and great fault s, but could we have done without either? It is due to him that we have the Jutland Archaeological Society, which has no w existed for half a century. Congr tulat ion s to the Society, from your offspring Skalk.Harald AndersenSkalk MagazineTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Kunsten og maleriets fortolkning af kroppen i begyndelsen af 1900-tallet. Artiklen beskriver kunstnerens fremstilling af mandekroppen som et æstetisk objekt ofte med naturen som motiv.Nordic Painters and the new Body.The thesis of this article is that in the period around the turn of the century there was a decisive new departure in the perception of time and space in Nordic countries. This was expressed in the very movement of the body in time and space, in the areas of sport and physical exercise amongst others. It is also true of the representations of such movements, that is to say in literature and art. The article interprets the new knowledge of the being and the living space of the body in the years after 1900, including its relation to the pictorial arts. Of the Nordic painters who took sport and the body as their theme, four have been selected here. In Norway, Edvard Munch was working his way out of the straitjacket of self-obsession during the years around 1910 and for that reason became for a short period sun-worshipper and vitalist. Between 1910-12 Magnus Enckell from Finland painted a series of outdoor pictures full of lyricism and light depicting naked people on the margin between land and water. J.F.Willumsen travelled from Denmark to southern Italy in 1902 to create a set of photographs of naked boys bathing, which he later translated to large-scale oil paintings. Finally, there is Eugène Jansson from Sweden, perhaps the greatest sports enthusiast of them all. After 1910 he became increasing interested in power sport as a motif, exploring the compositional possibilities of the body and its ability to provide variation and harmony. The article demonstrates a marked difference in the perception of the body and its movement in the work of these four painters. At the same time there is a fundamental similarity in their enthusiastic and at the same time fearful fascination for corporeality and its new incarnation, which is so characteristic for the first two decades of the 20th century.

Artiklen undersøger om den vitalistiske kunst er domineret af en mandighedsdyrkelse og om forholdet mellem kunstnernes liv og deres værk har haft betydning for den vitalistiske interesse. Dette gøres med udgangspunkt i fire kunstneriske værker.Sarah Huss Jønsson: The cultivation of gender and body within the vitalistic art in Denmark in the beginning of the 20th century.Vitalism was a cultural current that emphasized the cultivation of the sensuous human body in close contact with nature. It found expression in philosophy, art and the broad body cultures in the period 1890-1945. The cultivation of the vitality was influenced by the development of the modern society around 1900, which changed materially, mentally, economically, socially as well as in physical culture. In exchange for Christianity, which slowly lost its authority, the vitalists found the meaning of human existence in the cultivation of the active body and outdoor life, while the cultivation of nature – due to the influence of modern science – was put in connection with the human health. After 1945 the ideas of vitalism faded away, probably because of Nazi-Germany`s use of a distinct cultivation of the human body and instinct. Within the last decade it has been viewed by the historian Hans Bonde that there exists a significant cultivation of manliness in the vitalism of art, as it is seen in the vitalism of sports and gymnastics. Furthermore it is also claimed by the scholar Lise Præstgaard that the representation of genders in the vitalism of art is affected by the biological view on gender that was dominating at that time. Therefore the genders are claimed to be pictured in dichotomy: man is mainly seen as the rational and active gender, woman is mainly seen as the soft and sensuous one. The purpose of this article is to examine whether these above theses can be seen in such a distinct way in regard to the vitalism of art? Or should it be viewed in a more nuanced way? Finally the article sets out to examine whether there is a possible connection between the lives of the artists and their description of the genders in their vitalistic works. The leading cultivators of vitality in Denmark were a group of painters called »the Hellenists« (1894-1903). Inspired by the old Greeks they gathered each summer to explore the mix between outdoor painting and gymnastics – all naked. After 1900 vitalism was expressed in a wider sense by the painters J. F. Willumsen and Oluf Hartmann and by the sculptors Kai Nielsen and Rudolph Tegner in their respective works such as »En bjergbestigerske« (»The mounteneeress «) (1904), »Jakobs kamp med englen« (»Jakobs fight with the angel«) (1908), »Vandmoderen« (»The water-mother«) (1919-1920) and »Mod lyset« (»Towards the light«) (1909). Beside the effect of the cultivation of the body and nature in modern society, the artists also very much seem to be influenced by their private lives in their description of the genders in their vitalistic works. When it comes to Willumsen, Tegner and Kai Nielsen they all fell in love in the period when they started to express themselves in a vitalistic way. In Willumsen´s »En bjergbestigerske « this was expressed through an emphasis on the beauty and independence of the woman and the greatness of nature. In Tegner´s creation of »Mod lyset« his vision of the healing forces of the sunlight seems to affect him. Here the vitalism is seen in the lofty placement of man, women and child and their naked voluminous, muscular bodies and expressive movements upwards, which put them in touch with the life-giving sunlight. Kai Nielsen´s love for the woman and the children was inspired by his own family and influenced the vitalistic expression in »Vandmoderen«. Here the naked, sensuous and fertile woman is in close contact with a lot of lively naked children, which is underscored by its connection with the life-giving water and the children´s activity. Hartmann represents the cultivation of the »homoerotic« element in painting. For Hartmann it is seen in »Jakobs kamp med englen«, which expresses the passion, instinct and intensity of vital and powerful men´s bodily fight. This inspiration Hartmann might have got from his painting teacher, Kristian Zahrtmann, who was homosexual and a cultivator of manliness. It is seen that the woman – and not only the man - can be seen as the active gender, and also that the cultivation of women and children as well as youth and manliness is a defining factor in vitalism. Therefore this article does not entirely reject the above theses on the cultivation of the genders in the vitalistic art. It rather wants to speak for a modification of the theses.

Daugavpils Region Artists Association (DRAA) is a professional creative organization, which now comprises 37 artists from different generations, schools and professional industry: painters, graphic artists, sculptors, textile artists, potters, stage designers, etc. DRAA was founded in 1998. Organization is to promote conditions for creativity, to promote the association's creative work, to defend artists' creative freedom, moral, economic, social rights and professional interests. In its 15 years of existence, Daugavpils Region Artists Association organized exhibitions in Latvia and abroad, promoted the development of visual culture in Latgale and combined local professional artists in their own activities. Besides to those artists actively developed their own individual artistic work through exhibitions, participation in international and Latvian plenaries, residencies and master classes. Significant work has been done documenting the artists' creative work. Artistic activity of the group has seen more active and less saturated periods. At this time DRAA has become significant in the context of Latvian art and has created interest among partners in Lithuania, Belarus, France, etc. Due to the personal initiative DRAA artists exhibited their works in group exhibitions and had solo exhibitions in Lithuania, Belarus, Germany, Estonia, Russia, Austria, Poland, France, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Spain, Uzbekistan, Finland, Switzerland, Italy. During DRAA existence the artists held around 150 solo exhibitions and participated in over 500 group exhibitions in Latvia and abroad. In period from 1998 to 2013th DRAA implemented various activities related to art, which positively influenced and enriched the cultural life of Daugavpils, contributed to the city and state recognition of cultural space. A leading role in driving of this process belongs to the personalities in the DRAA group – to its leaders Līga Čible and Romualds Gibovskis. Group of artists could achieve its aims only if state and local government will provide a moral and material support in order to develop the area of education, the arts process documentation and work procurement issues. Only cooperation between different institutions can create an attractive and modern cultural facilities on the eastern border. Article aims to collect information on the artists DRAA professional activities from 1998 to 2013th year describe the group of main areas of activity and reflect the most significant achievements.

Patrick Kragelund: Owners Marks in Early Aquisitions of the Danish National Art Library The article provides a historical survey of owners’ marks, of exlibrises and superexlibrises in the early section (acquisitions 1754–1810) of the holdings of the Danish National Art Library. From the early part of this period a few royal gifts have been preserved, but the largest part of the material of relevance entered the library with the acquisition of the painter Nicolai Abildgaard’s books in 1810. It includes items with the superexlibris of King Charles XI of Sweden and Duke Friedrich III of Slesvig-Holstein-Gottorp (the latter a gift from Athanasius Kircher) and books from Danish 17th century private libraries, among which the author and translator Birgitta Thott. In the Royal Academy context, books once belonging to three of the early Dutch and German immigrant artists active in early 18th century Denmark such as Johann Coning, Otto de Willarts and Marcus Tuscher are of particular interest.

Abstract Hans Le Thoor of Amsterdam is known as a versatile art dealer, who conducted business in the Netherlands. In 1620 he made an ill-fated attempt to sell Dutch paintings to the King of Denmark, Christian IV (1577–1648), with the help of the ‘painter and spy’ Pieter Isaacsz (1569–1625). This study draws attention to the fact that, before this interesting episode, Le Thoor had been active in Central Europe in dealings with Emperor Rudolf II (1552–1612). The inventories of the Rudolfine collections list exotic objects, naturalia and Chinese paintings delivered by Le Thoor to the court in Prague in 1609. His experience in Prague had a bearing on the later attempted sale to the Danish king, to whom Le Thoor also tried to sell Rudolfine paintings that he had acquired in Brussels between 1618 and 1620 at the partial sell-off of the collection of Rudolf’s brother Archduke Albrecht (1559–1621). New information on Le Thoor’s life and business strategies has come to light through study of archival sources relating to his activities with the Habsburgs. As presented here, these findings advance our knowledge of the mode of operation and scale of international dealer networks in Le Thoor’s time.