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Marianne Aulie. Born 1971 in the small town of Lørenskog, Norway. As a teenager she was inspired by the Norwegian painter Øivind Sand. It is a humble and heartfelt thankful artist that makes her US debut in the Norwegian Seamen’s Church’s Gallery, The Trygve Lie Gallery. She brings the paintings and the colors to New York as her own personal tribute to her grandfather Olaf Bernhard Bengtson (1920-2002), who was a machinist in the trading fleet and travelled in convoy from Halifax, Canada to Liverpool, England during the Second World War. He was closely knitted to the Norwegian Seamen’s Church in New York. Today Marianne lives alone with her six-year old daughter, Alba, in a spacious Oslo apartment from the 1860s, with a balcony overlooking an old park with a church and a pond with two swans. Marianne Aulie is a collector of Krug vintage champagne from the 60s and 70s, which she drinks while painting her fables. All of her paintings are washed in vintage champagne, the final touch of the artist. Marianne Aulie made her debut at Galleri Sand in Norway and has turned out to be a breath of fresh air. There are pictures that capture the effects on the surface of mirrors and pools, that can tell a queen whether she is the fairest of all, but always reveal something more, which makes the mirror break, there are faces that glide over the thin film of oil that covers the bottom of a black frying pan and soon will start smoking, or there is the queen of Sheba’s bronze mirror entwined into sinful flowers and forbidden fruit – with the somewhat wistful look that contains the perishableness of life. Marianne Aulie lets photographs melt together with picturesque structures on plywood and creates atmospheric space, which is seen as in a faint shimmer under the surface of the sea. The colours are applied with thick strokes and create decorative surfaces against the photographs, which can resemble autumn leaves exposed in their destruction and for a short while assuming the features of a face, before it all is wiped out. Marianne Aulie guides her brush eagerly, letting a sonorous world come into being – as if to wave a net of colours that may capture unicorns and centaurs. With a sensuous language she seeks to recover the world on an abstract level. That, which things are before they become familiar, or that, captured, but which lets the red trace of its own warmth remain suspended on the canvas. That is the horse which has run past or the one that is on its way from afar, which is so warm-blooded, one would burn one’s fingers to touch it.
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