RENÉ HOLM
Let me be your everlasting light
Et andet værk føjer intensitet til denne grundklang: Himlen er opsprættet i gult og sort, og to ugler – årvågne, urovækkende, næsten profetiske – hæver sig i flugt. Nedenfor sidder en menneskefigur med hætte, vendt mod en brændende gul sol. Der er en intens spænding mellem lys og mørke, liv og død. Uglerne bliver ikke kun symboler, men vidner: De ser, hvad vi ikke ser. De spørger, om vi selv tør se det … og det kan mærkes!
Og i endnu et maleri møder vi en kvinde med langt rødt hår og en grønlig hudtone, som hviler ved et af de som sædvanlig bladløse træer i René holms malerier. Ved hendes side ligger et skelet – en konkret påmindelse om dødens nærvær. Hun holder en bog i hånden, måske en fortælling, et minde, en bøn. Scenen balancerer mellem håbløshed og håb, mellem livets skrøbelighed og muligheden for indsigt. For selv i dette billede, hvor dødens tavse figur bogstaveligt talt er til stede, er der en fornemmelse af ro og eftertanke. Det er ikke blot et memento mori, men også et memento vivere – husk at leve.
For René Holm tematiserer ikke døden for at kvæle livet. Han viser os liv og død som gensidigt afhængige – mørket som den nødvendige baggrund, der får lyset og livet til at træde frem. Forfatteren Tom Kristensens skriver i et mannakorn:
“For alt i livet som blev dig givet / er lys og mørke i sammenspil.”
Det kunne være denne udstillings poetiske omkvæd. For Holms billeder er ikke adskillelsens billeder, men sammenspillets. Lyset gør ikke mørket overflødigt. Mørket er det rum, hvor lyset overhovedet får betydning.
Kunstnerens ugler, der optræder som både billedskikkelser og skulpturer, understreger denne dobbelthed. I græsk mytologi følger de visdommens gudinde, mens de i kristen kunsthistorie ofte symboliserer et blik, der ser i mørket. Hos René Holm er de hverken kun truende eller trøstende, men frem for alt nærværende. De vogter – og udfordrer – os.
Og som Albert Camus skrev, i en af sine smukkeste sætninger:
“I midten af vinteren opdagede jeg til sidst, at der var en uovervindelig sommer i mig.”
Måske er det netop denne opdagelse, René Holm inviterer os til. At lyset ikke fordriver mørket, men lever i det.
Et lys, der ikke råber, men hvisker.
Et håb, der ikke lover sikkerhed, men nærvær. En bøn: Let me be your everlasting light.
Provst Kræn Christensen
Let me be your everlasting light
“Let there be light, and there was light.” But where does light come from, how long does it burn, and what will happen on that day when the light is quenched? Or will it actually ever be quenched? The title of the exhibition Let Me Be Your Everlasting Light indicates that there is hope, even when the light fizzles out.
It is pretty obvious that the creator of the works in this exhibition is René Holm. For many years he has been known for his own unique style: faceless people, leafless trees, and his outstanding use of colours, startlingly transparent and rich, with every little dot playing a key role in the impact of the work as a whole.
Light. For millennia it has been a major metaphor in art, religion and literature. And justifiably so: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
(John 1:5) Light as knowledge, as hope, as salvation. From the tall windows of Gothic cathedrals, the rays of the sun penetrating the stained glass and transforming stone-grey church interiors into celestial halls, to the more ambiguous, existential use of light in modern art as a landmark in our gloomy, turbulent world.
René Holm is part of this tradition – and challenges it. In Let Me Be Your Everlasting Light he reaches out for something that cannot be contained solely in what is palpable: a light that does not merely illuminate, but also inquires. A light that, when you look at one of the pictures, does not promise redemption, but offers presence, warmth and recognition.
In the very centre of the pictures, frequently alone, are human figures. Lonely, not necessarily lost, but seeking. They seem to be heading somewhere; they have not yet arrived. They are in a transitional space: between day and night, between action and renunciation, between hope and resignation, between life and death. Here, in this existential field of tension, we cannot help but think of Søren Kierkegaard:
“To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose oneself.”
René Holm’s characters dare – or maybe they are just about to. They are standing still in something: not emptiness, but depth. An existential channel that offers options and choices, and that can lead to both life and death – or nothingness. But you exist – and the candle is burning!
One of the most striking works in the exhibition features a female figure, huddled in the dark, a dripping candle on her back. It is an image not only of vulnerability, but also of ardour. An image of the passage of time – the candle is burning, and it will burn out. That is precisely why it must burn at full strength while it can. René Holm shows us a figure who carries not only her sorry and pain, but also her light. An existential allegory based on the realisation that light rarely comes from outside. It must be carried – and burn – from within.
If you want to ignite, you must burn!
Another work adds intensity to this keynote. Here, the sky is ripped up into yellow and black, and two owls – alert, disturbing, almost prophetic – rise in flight. Below, a human figure is seated wearing a hood, and facing a burning yellow sun. There is an intense tension between light and dark, and life and death. The owls become not only symbols, but also witnesses: they see what we do not. They are asking if we dare see it… and we can feel it!
Meanwhile, yet another painting features a woman with long red hair and greenish skin, resting near one of René Holm’s typical leafless trees. A skeleton is lying at her feet: a palpable reminder of the closeness of death. She is holding a book: a story, a memory, a prayer? The scene is a balance between hopelessness and hope, between the fragility of life and the opportunity for knowledge. Because, even in this picture, where the mute figure of death is literally present, there is a sense of calm and reflection. It is not just a memento mori, but also a memento vivere – a reminder to live.
It is not to strangle life that René Holm tackles the theme of death. He shows how life and death are mutually dependent – darkness as the necessary background that causes light and life to appear. In a maxim, the author Tom Kristensen writes:
“Because everything granted you in life / interconnects light and darkness.”
That could almost be the poetic refrain of this exhibition. Holm’s pictures are not pictures of division or separation, but of interconnectedness. Light does not render darkness superfluous. Darkness is the space in which light actually acquires meaning.
The artist’s owls, which feature in both pictures and sculptures, highlight this dichotomy. In Greek mythology, they follow the goddess of wisdom; in the history of Christian art they often symbolise seeing in the dark. In the art of René Holm, they are neither threatening nor consoling: more than anything else, they are attentive. They watch over – and challenge – us.
As Albert Camus wrote in one of his most beautiful sentences:
“In the midst of winter, I finally discovered that within me was an insuperable summer.” Maybe René Holm is inviting us to join him in this very discovery: That light does not banish darkness, but exists within it. A light that does not scream, but whispers. A hope that does not promise security, but presenceA prayer: “Let Me Be Your Everlasting Light.”
Provost Kræn Christensen
Let me be your everlasting light
Catalogue of illustrated works
P. 4
N/T
Pigment on paper
29x21 cm
2025
P. 13
Follow the light
Pigments, oil and fabric on canvas
165x130 cm
2024
P. 14
When the light of dawn is on us
Pigments, oil and fabric on canvas
160x115 cm
2024
P. 15
My light is internal
Oil on canvas
45x35 cm
2025
P. 17
Even in darkness i see the light
Acrylic, oil and Axe on canvas
155x155 cm
2020-2025
P. 18
Light a candle in the darkness
Oil on canvas on wood
64x50 cm
2025
P. 19
When the light of dawn is on us
Oil on canvas on wood
40x35 cm
2025
P. 21
Time aint gonna wait for me
Pigments, oil, oilbar and canvas on canvas
165x130 cm
2024-25
P. 22
Twins
Oil on canvas on wood
45x35 cm
2025
P. 23
The living soul inside, will carry on
Pigments and oil on canvas on wood
54x40 cm
2025
P. 24
Pigments and oil on paper and canvas
Various sizes
2024-2025
P. 25 N/T
Pigments and oil on paper
30x23 cm
2025
P. 26
There is something ahead worth fighting for Pigments, oil and fabric on canvas
165x130 cm
2025
P. 29
I keep my visions to myself
Pigments, oil and fabric on canvas
140x100 cm
2024
P. 30
What you do know will always be with you
Pigments, oil, oilbar and fabric on canvas
120x155 cm / 70x90 cm
2025
P. 38
N/T
Pigments and oil on paper
21x37 cm
2025
