A woman sits with her back to the viewer at the piano; her dark dress barely stands out against the instrument, and everything else in the room is silent alongside her: the grey-violet wall with its two small pictures, the paraffin lamp, the white table set with two plates and a knob of butter. Vilhelm Hammershøi painted this scene in 1901 in his flat at 30 Strandgade in Copenhagen - the very interior he captured over the years in ever-changing variations, usually with his wife Ida depicted from behind. Nothing happens, and that is precisely what gives the painting its power. Hardly any action, but instead light, space and those muted shades of grey, beige and white that give the Danish painter his own distinctive voice, somewhere between Symbolism and modern tranquillity. You can almost hear the scene: a room where a performance is about to begin - or has just ended.
What is particularly fascinating about this piece is the combination of elements, and it is worth taking a closer look at the frame. Vitura is a high-gloss black wooden moulding, a good nine centimetres wide, with baroque, curving ornamentation that literally comes to life in the light: Depending on how you stand in front of it, different parts of the relief catch the light. Admittedly, this stands in stark contrast to the extremely tranquil motif, but it works surprisingly well. The deep black makes the light areas of the picture stand out; the whitetablecloth and the plates thus shine more brightly, whilst the opulent detailing lends the austere interior a grandeur it would never have allowed itself. Within the picture plane, the eye is drawn to the small piece of butter, the only warm splash of colour in the entire scene - in the print on the ‘Leonardo’ canvas, this yellow appears just as casually as if Hammershøplaced it there, with the soft shadow edge of the plate beneath it. The light-coloured slats of the chair back against the dark piano body also stand out clearly without appearing harsh; the satin-finished surface renders the muted tones matt enough that none of the tranquillity is lost. The mount and glass have been deliberately omitted from this version - the image sits directly within the black frame, which further heightens the contrast.
Hammershøis’s art lies in creating a whole space full of tension from almost nothing - and this reproduction achieves precisely that: The subtle gradations between grey, beige and white remain distinguishable, right down to the small signature at the bottom edge. The fact that a glossy decorative frame, of all things, complements this tranquillity rather than overwhelming it is the real revelation of this piece.