Septemberaften (September Evening)

A man is walking down a quiet road. The leaves haven’t turned yet, but the air in the drawing is dry, early autumn in Denmark. You can almost hear the sound of his shoes on the ground.

Septemberaften (2025). Pencil on paper. A quiet moment in 1940s Denmark.

This one started with the light. Not golden, not dramatic. Just that washed-out softness around 4 pm, when the day feels like it’s shifting, but hasn’t quite committed to the next season. I was thinking about those in-between days — when summer’s over, but autumn hasn’t fully arrived.

I didn’t plan a whole scene. I just followed a feeling — something still, a little bright, and slightly out of time. It ended up more like a quiet landscape than anything else. Not dramatic, not symbolic. Just a place someone might have walked through in the 1940s, coat buttoned, collar turned up, with no particular rush.

That’s often where my vintage-inspired illustrations begin — with a texture, or a mood, rather than a clear idea. And while this one isn’t a poster in the traditional sense, it shares something with classic Danish poster art: the focus on atmosphere over action, and a sense of everyday stillness. I often draw with prints in mind — work that might eventually live on paper, like the Danish art prints I grew up seeing in relatives’ homes.

That instinct might run in the family. My great-grandfather painted landscapes — French fields, pale skies, soft trees. I never met him, but I’ve seen the way atmosphere hangs in his work. I think I’ve absorbed some of that, even if I work with pencils and paper instead of oils.

This drawing isn’t really about anything. Just a person walking. But there’s something in the air — a brightness that won’t last much longer. A specific kind of quiet.

The title might stay. Or not. But Septemberaften (September Evening) feels close enough for now.

A small print run may be available soon, as part of my ongoing series of Danish art prints.