In an era of exceedingly strict moral dictates, the Dane Kristian Zahrtmann was an artist who dared to follow his own vision.
Classically trained as a painter, he developed a unique style that combined luminous modern colours with historical subjects. He was among the first exhibitors at Den Frie Udstilling – The Free Exhibition, an initiative to showcase artworks that pushed the boundaries of what the art academy would abide.
Adam in Paradise, too, was exhibited at Den Frie Udstilling in 1914.
The painting imagines Adam, the first man, in the prime of his strength and beauty, seated amidst a paradisiacal landscape. The painting shocked those who viewed it – so much so that museums and state collections refused to buy it. It was only more than a century later that one of the two versions Zahrtmann created of the painting was acquired by the National Museum of Sweden.
Zahrtmann actually painted two versions of this provocative scene: one without the snake and the other where the serpent slithers into the frame. Zahrtmann found his muse for the first man on earth not in a classical art academy, but in a train compartment for soldiers. Zahrtmann filled his studio with lush, exotic plants to set the mood for his model. In a letter to his friend, Ms. H. Hendriksen, in July 1913, the artist described the intoxicating atmosphere of his creative process:
Most certainly we are on the sunny side of life, and I was surprised to come across the train compartment for soldiers. Here I met Adam... bored amongst the wonderful, intoxicating fragrance of flowers, seated limply with no clue of the approaching birth of Eve. I long for his coming tomorrow, when I shall enjoy him as if I were in Paradise...
But what made this painting so controversial? For one thing, Zahrtmann’s Adam is a man aware of his youthful beauty, pictured in a context traditionally associated with seduction and temptation. His unconcealed eroticism challenged the norm – not just because Adam’s depiction as a potential object of desire suggested a homosexual element: after all, Zahrtmann had modelled Adam after a young soldier who sat for him in his studio.
Zahrtmann’s Adam broke with contemporary notions of masculinity. Etiquette books dictated how men and women should look, and men were explicitly cautioned not to present themselves flamboyantly or seductively. If they did, they might be perceived as being feminine, which the contemporaries associated with weakness and shallowness – while dressing sober implied that one was a man of thoughts. Zahrtmann’s Adam, on the other hand, seems unafraid to harness his erotic power: casually reposing in restrained strength, he almost appears to challenge the viewer.
Adam in Paradise was not the only painting in which Zahrtmann subverted social norms. He often portrayed women as assertive and full-bodied rather than meek and dainty, and men as beautiful and seductive rather than sober and restrained – a powerful move in the time immediately following the Nordic sexual morality debate (sædelighedsfejden), a cultural movement centred around the question whether women – like men – should be allowed to make sexual experiences before marriage.
Zahrtmann left no sources articulating his sexual orientation, and nothing is known of his love life. Yet in his lifetime, trials against gay men repeatedly made the news, and it would have been dangerous to publicly out oneself. The impact of Zahrtmann’s paintings, however, surpasses speculations about his personal sexual orientation: still today, they resound as wordless protests against the restrictions of a society intent on shutting down personal freedom.
Despite the provocative nature of many of his artworks, Zahrtmann was a successful, influential and celebrated artist in his native Denmark.
He cultivated not only his own style, but utilised his striking visual language to communicate his own views on life and humanity, in spite of the social pressure to comply with the masses – a show of personal strength that ranks him among the most impressive figures of modern European art.
For our signature border of this Bandana, finished with a hand-rolled edge, we chose a lush Agapanthus purple. This African flower is seen in the brother version of the painting, reflecting Zahrtmann’s fascination with exotic flora. The plant's name combines the Greek words agape (love) and anthos (flower). No ordinary love but... divine love.

