My friend Christopher Rådlund, who has died aged 52 after taking his own life, was a painter based in Oslo. He set himself against contemporary trends but unflinchingly faced up to current crises in ecology, architecture, technology and ethics.
Exhibiting in London (at Nordic Artworks gallery in 2007 and 2008), New York and throughout Scandinavia, Christopher had a particular ability to capture the melancholy of a fleeting moment in a shoreline, a stand of trees or a swirling cloud. His depiction of the new Oslo opera house in a state of ruin became controversial in 2011 when the terrorist Anders Breivik’s bomb attack made central parts of the Norwegian capital resemble the just-exhibited painting.
He was an anglophile, inspired by the English landscape painting tradition. He undertook several study tours to the UK, including one lasting several months in 2012. Aligned with the views of King Charles on architecture, Christopher taught plein air painting regularly at the King’s laboratory of urban conservation in the medieval Transylvanian village of Miclosoara. He held forth on his views in The Black Book of Architecture (2012, co-written with Alexander Ibsen).
He and I maintained a respectful debate about contemporary architecture; he illustrated my 2016 book Common Sense, and at the time of his death we were making a book of multilingual ekphrasis – vivid description – of his paintings.
Born in Gothenburg, Sweden, to Kerstin Kolberg and Ralph Rådlund, an artist and writer, Christopher studied at the city’s College of Arts and Design (1988-95). From 1991 onwards he spent an increasing amount of time in Oslo, where he completed his painting studies at the Academy of Art (1995-98).
Initially shunned by the contemporary art world, he attained recognition and commercial success in the mid-2000s, holding several shows a year, culminating in a major ecocide-related exhibition, Kollaps, in late 2021 at gallery 69 in Oslo. He painted live in front of thousands of metal fans at the 2016 Hellfest, with the group Solefald.
In 2013 Christopher was Norway’s war artist in Afghanistan, painting plein air under heavy military guard. His pictures of life at the Meymaneh base, in Afghan villages and in the mountains were exhibited in the Oslo Army Museum in 2014.
His paintings and hand-finished lithographs were almost entirely in a monochrome grey palette. His gaze was wide and pitiless, addressing the sublime horror of infrastructure, technology and natural decline – a fighter jet bisecting a cloudy sky, goalposts set against a dark forest, monumental beached whales.
By contrast, he produced – mostly for friends – a whimsical series of drawings featuring a carefree, innocent Winnie the Pooh. His father had transmitted his love of AA Milne, and given Christopher the middle name Robin in recognition of it.
Christopher was a joyous aesthete in life, and would dress up in a waistcoat and tie to work, usually at night. His apartment, replete with classical statuary and 19th-century furniture, was an artwork in itself.
He married Stine Mikkelsen, a painter and musician, in 1998, and they had a son, Elias; they divorced two years later. Elias survives him.
