Seal grey

If you were born and raised by the sea (or at least near a river or a lake), it is hard to imagine life far inland. For many Estonians, the sea is significant – not necessarily as a source of livelihood, but simply because it is there. The shoreline is, in one sense, a boundary between land and sea, between certainty and uncertainty. Yet, there is a sense of freedom and openness in this vast expanse of water stretching to the horizon – sometimes mirror-smooth, sometimes foaming with waves. One does not necessarily need the sea to feel longing, but it certainly helps that feeling take root. What land lies beyond the sea?

At the City Gallery, Uru Valter has displayed a wall full of seascapes and placed a rowboat in front of them. The paintings, created by both professional and amateur artists over the past century, come from various collections across Estonia. Like any image on a wall, these paintings serve as windows into another time and place. Most depict the Baltic Sea, yet just as our understanding of freedom has evolved, so too has the way we perceive the sea and the natural borders around us. Is the sea in these paintings always equally free? And the longing that drives an artist to gaze upon or conjure up the churning waves – has it always been the same?

See also: million-dollar view; five out of five; sea breeze; white ship; opening the city to the sea; “The sea is, the sea remains, the sea must be”; archetypal landscape; wooded meadow; coastal people; the sea gives and takes; sea air sets you free.