Book of Light

In the 1980s Max Book was so hot. Firmly rooted in the classic tradition of Scandinavian landscape paintings, he managed to embrace the new post modern aestethics of the time. He soiled his paintings with dust and rubbish, and sometimes even broke them apart. With his work Book was at the theoretical frontline of the art debate.

Book is getting older, and the 1980s suddenly seem like a very long time ago. He can still talk the talk, and walk the walk. But, in the end all his virtuosity can’t cover up the fact that his art just isn’t as engaging as it used to be. It’s beautiful, but predictable.

Don’t get me wrong now. I have nothing against the fact that his work is less dirty these days. I like surface, and I like good looking art. His Deluminum series even leaves you standing in awe in front of the pictures. It’s just not frontline anymore, and that simple fact somehow makes me feel less than fulfilled.

Perhaps that’s asking to much from the artist. He still is “Ådalen’s greatest gift to contemporary art” as Tidningen Ångermanland puts it.