Nature's Connections | Kaija Savinainen
The relationships we create, the relationships we live with, the ones that sustain us, that nurture us, are of profound importance. I speak of more than “people” relationships but instead of bonds forged with nature, that of the natural world, domestic and wild.
Wolf moon, oil on canvas
Questions regarding nature are frequently asked of me, or comments are made when viewing my work. I believe that all individuals have those innate connections to the natural world. For some that door has remained closed far too long, lost somewhere with the passage of time. My “door” has remained wide open for as long as I can remember. When walking, biking finding a creature on the road, I pause and move it across to safety. Does not everyone do that? I hear a collective “Ah, no I don’t do that…” Why not?” I ask. “Too busy, too much in a rush”? As humans we are conditioned to save the cute or sweet things, often stepping over, ignoring the ones who don’t fit that profile. All creatures I believe have a space on this planet. We are all connected. We need each other desperately, unconditionally.
There is a long list of creatures who occupy that special place in my heart, then and now. I hold them close, all dear to me. I have learned to listen and observe nature closely, intimately. These interactions/connections have enriched, deepened my understanding of my own art making process. I chose not to reproduce or replicate them on canvas, instead attempting to understand, gaining a deeper awareness of their inner essence, of their spirit. What makes them who they are? It is that persona, that impression, those qualities I try and capture on canvas, on paper or even in sculptures. The stories are many, always inspiring, teaching life’s lessons, happy and sometimes sad.
Most recently Penny the Raven has made her presence felt. She occupies my northern paintings. She is tenacious, clever, and keeps humans at a distance. I swear she toys with us knowing we want her attention. We want to understand her, to know her. She remains wild, elusive. When my daughter and her family returned after a long absence to their dwelling outside of Yellowknife, NWT, my first question was “Is Penny there?” I was particularly worried when the wildfires raged across the northern lands. Yes, she had survived. Penny was waiting for their return. She is family. She is the guardian of their family cabin at Peninsula Lake, NWT.
My very first horse Cochise, was a half-starved colt, his belly and legs covered in dried manure. His hunger had been so great he ate his bedding. He was the ugly duckling who blossomed into a handsome, strong quarter horse. My father had horse sense and empathy – he bartered a mechanic’s job for this abused young horse. Several years later the previous owners met Cochise and I out riding. They asked about the horse they had sold us, not believing they were looking at him, so great was the change.
Watercolour horse study
Big John, the thoroughbred horse we “rescued” from the racetrack, was so full of wild and fear. My mother was convinced he would do me great harm as she witnessed him shrieking in liberation from the “track” galloping with full force head held high in the pasture we turned him out into. My dad said, “what a horse!”. Yes, he was extraordinarily big, and tall for a racehorse. In this case, I agreed with my father, John was the most beautiful horse we both ever laid eyes on. I was in a trance, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of this wild horse. What had we done? Living with horses does something to your inner self, it awakens a primordial spirit within. I spent hours riding over large sections of Alberta prairie, not accessible to many. “Just close the gate behind you” I was told by many a rancher. And so, I did. We rode everywhere possible, John and I. John is featured in dozens of watercolours, drawings and oil paintings. No horse painting is complete without John.
Running, water colour and goauche
Recently, at a Bruce Springsteen concert, a piece of music began to play, the rhythm was that of a horse in a gallop. I closed my eyes, and I was transported back with Big John running across the prairie landscape. I urge you to find and watch the last few scenes of the Black Stallion movie as Alex, the young boy races along sandy beaches with The Black. The slow-motion photography accompanied by extraordinary musical score captures the sheer joy, the freedom of the moment, the bond between the two. I have been there with Big John. I have felt and heard his rhythmic breath mingle with my own as we raced across the landscape. It is a heart pounding, profound experience. That innate experiential knowledge never leaves you; it is always present. It is that moment of connection I seek to express with my work.
The little wolf pack of three huskies left, abandoned in our woods, who became my long-distance running buddies. The four little black kittens on the side of the road peering at me intently. Other cats and dogs driven by hunger or the need for shelter, and so many others through no fault of their own who landed on our doorstep in their hour of need. Disney stories they are not. Instead, they reveal connections to my art, to who I am, to who they are. I don’t consider my work as pretty or as decorative “wall art” instead I see a powerful statement, a canvas born out of real events, real lived experiences. Not prettified. Through use of bold, vibrant colours I seek to capture the raw emotions of the moment. The creatures, the landscape they inhabit who have greatly enriched my understanding of the natural world and continue to do so. They gained a foothold to my soul. I am humbled by their acceptance and trust placed in me.
All of nature is my muse. It is all there for you too, to see, listen, feel and inhale and be inspired.