The Fotografiska and the Purple piano!




This morning I took the opportunity to take a walk around the city. At the beginning alone, I need to meditate with the city, to be just me and her. The last day was a beautiful day and warm.

First I headed to Fotografiska. I had an appointment at 12 a.m. with Mr Juan. The Fotografiska is the most important photographic exhibition in Sweden and in the top ten, of the most important in Europe. Although my photos will be on display in the foyer of the cafeteria where it is reserved for emerging talent; it is still a strong emotion that the fotografiska contacted me.
I welcome an Asian girl, and only after that, I understand that Mr Juan is actually a MISS. She shows me the cafeteria’s foyer in the top of the building. There are bright windows overlooking Slussen and you can admire a beautiful view of Stockholm. I see artists making their New York-style Brunch, some students who admire and study the pictures approaching and capturing the details, others who dream in front of hot coffee, chatting with each other and others who read the newspaper and do not worry at all, about the things that surround them.

The atmosphere makes me go to the edge of reason and I’m dreaming with open eyes, my work there; I guess as I can show them, in what size and which one in particular!

I ask impatiently, “when do you propose to exhibit my work?” to the little Chinese lady who decides there will be a further evaluation of the material by the editors and then past that step, she can decide the date.
Even though it is next December I would not mind returning to Stockholm at Christmas time. In fact I’m already imagining going to visit his parents, aunts and Fredrick; to spend Christmas together; of course, trying to convince my parents to come too.

The great thing about this gallery is that it is not reserved for illustrious world-famous photographers but also there is the opportunity for emerging photographers with little experience, who wish to be known, to display their work. Their activities also include organizing photography courses, conferences and workshops for amateur and professional photographers as well as musical events and universities.

Founded by Jan and Per Broman in 1940 when the Court of photographers Sundgren submitted a proposal on a photographic museum in Sweden. A Photo magazine person spoke with museum directors and photographers, who had shown interest and enthusiasm. Although it began years ago, it became to be well known, 70 years later. Then the doors were opened for photos in the old customs house Stadsgårdskajen. It is not a normal museum; it is a meeting point for international expressions of the art of photography.
Coming out of the tunnel I have an appointment with Roger. Roger is a gentleman who I met when I came for the first time in Stockholm. He’s a writer, and he was the one who helped me to discover the Fotografiska.
I told him how the interview went and about the exhibition and he decided to go to the places that usually organize photographic exhibitions. Most are hotels and restaurants.

Along Glamda Stan, the island that is the heart of Stockholm, we head to Lydmar Hotel with five stars, where

exhibiting paintings and photographs by emerging artists is encouraged. I let them talk to Roger and it ends when the receptionist gives us the card of those involved in the exhibitions. Roger brings me to the third floor where there is a beautiful terrace which is usually used for breakfast or for lunch. Coming out of the elevator I am amazed by the walls of the colour purple, and a piano just before the terrace, is also purple.
The terrace is crowded and the staff is busy outside, while inside it’s just me, Roger and the piano … purple! I remember an episode of Glee entitled the purple piano; I take the chance that there is nobody to take some pictures, while I pretend to play the piano. I feel a little bit like Lady Gaga in “ Speechless!”
The excitement of the purple colour made me completely forget the terrace. I go out for a moment to admire

it and make a gesture of refusal when the waitress asks me if I want to eat or would I just like a coffee. At the centre of the terrace there is a fountain in the Art Nouveau style and even small tables and chairs remind me of the “Paris-style”. Before another waiter gets to ask the same thing of my colleague, we go back to the elevator, giving one last melancholic look at the piano. Next stop: the Grand Hotel!

Translated by Peter Jamieson