Unfortunately, I cannot remember my first meeting with Tarmo Roosimölder, as it must have been brief. But I remember well our further meetings and conversations, regardless of place or duration. By sharing the same world, gallerists and artists become close. I remember one wet and dark autumn night a few years ago when Tarmo called and said that I must immediately come to his wife’s studio in Old Town, because something extraordinary was going to happen there for one night only.

Despite the crappy weather, curiosity became the driving force that won out over my desire to stay safe and warm in my comfort zone. I showed up at the address I was given. As it turned out, I found myself at a very exclusive (nowadays described as pop-up) exhibition, featuring two gigantic oak tables on which Tarmo had painted a saga’s worth of characters – animals, people and other creatures, the sea, a forest and villages. The tables had been custom-made for a specific place and a chosen audience, to be seen that night only. The exceptionality of the event was boosted by the arrival of Jaak Johanson, who took it upon himself to lead everyone in the singing of a runo-song.

I asked Tarmo what this promised extraordinary thing was that I hadn’t seen before, not including the tables that Tarmo had painted and the whole atmosphere. Then Tarmo showed me a creature much like a fish on his painting, with big teeth, and said that this was Time and surely I hadn’t seen Time’s teeth up close before. Let’s be honest, indeed I hadn’t!

It often happens when talking to Tarmo, that every conversation that has started off routinely, ultimately reaches a more exciting place. It’s the same with his paintings. At first you question what’s so special about it – sea, sky, mountain, some characters going with the flow, but if you stay in front of the picture a moment longer, you are gone, as if you have flown into the different sky that Tarmo’s pictures feature so much of.

Tarmo obviously has his “own thing” with reliefs and waterbodies, because before starting as an artist (this is probably the most accurate expression regarding the beginning of his creative journey), he studied geology at the University of Tartu and that’s probably why the elements present in his paintings are in their correct proportions as they appear in nature as well – just enough water and/or land for the eye to hang on to.

Man in Tarmo’s works is always tiny and accurate in every detail, always with a face and an expression. Above all is always the sky – clear, glimmering and immeasurable. People appear natural and comfortable within Tarmo’s paintings – there is no protest or opposition. They walk, or stand, or sit calmly. Big world, small person – it’s not the person trying to survive in nature no matter what it takes, it’s nature containing that same person.

It also happens that the actual existing world meets the world the artist has created. I once spent my winter holiday climbing and skiing in the mountains of Northern Sweden. We spent one half-day on a formation resembling a prehistoric giant’s backbone, where we had to walk in single file. A few weeks later, I was back at work in the gallery. Tarmo brought in a painting depicting the same day, the mountainside, people clambering, even the sky was the same colour. It would be unnecessary to describe my amazement... meeting the painting, meeting my own memories.

There is nothing extraneous within Tarmo’s paintings – no houses, cars or planes. A nice wooden boat is good enough for sailing on water as well as flying in the sky. The inhabitants of his world are actually able to fly pretty well without help; the laws of physics are optional and have no more than an indicative value. Despite the time of year, the sky is always clear and the wind speed close to zero. The viewer is presented with an ideal moment of balance between movement and a breath.

When it comes to painting technique, Tarmo has chosen to always do his best. In his case, so-called overproduction is practically out of the question. By now he has developed a method where he paints and processes his canvas layer by layer, eight times. Each subsequent layer is thinner than the previous layer. This is why his paintings play with light in a special, magical way. Tarmo himself says that this magic is called physics.

Despite the fact that a job that is so fine, accurate and requires the utmost concentration may seem extremely tedious and hard to a bystander, painting and drawing are a source of joy and excitement for Tarmo. He actually compares it to surfing, where first you take the board and run with it into the water (usually cold water around here), paddle to the right spot and then you hit the right wave – that’s when the real fun and freedom begins, understood only by those who have experienced it.

I can’t begin to estimate the loss that Estonia’s geology circles must have experienced on that day at the beginning of the 1990s when Tarmo Roosimölder decided in favour of pursuing an artist’s life, but it must have been a happy day and stroke of good luck for Estonian art.

Additional encouraging and educating stories can be read here on the website of Edasi.

Tarmo Roosimölder’s works can be seen in Haus Gallery, as well as the web catalogue here.