Painted in Red: When Color Becomes Identity

Photo: Studio Fotografico Gabriele Forti www.gabrieleforti.it  

When you are born in Siena, you quickly learn that colors are not just about aesthetics but a true language of their own. Growing up in this city means immersing yourself in a unique social fabric: the contrada. Each neighborhood in Siena is identified by a combination of colors and emblems, which find their ultimate expression during the Palio, the famous horse race held in the stunning medieval setting of Piazza del Campo.

Flag after flag, drum after drum, the colors of the 17 contrade dance together, telling tales of belonging and rivalry. For us, color means identity, distinction, and a bridge to the community we belong to. We grow up breathing in this visual and cultural kaleidoscope, which becomes an integral part of who we are. Then, there is the color that bears the name of the city itself: “Terra di Siena". This warm and vibrant yellow-brown pigment has captivated artists and design enthusiasts worldwide. It is fascinating to think that such a specific hue can encapsulate the spirit of a place, yet it does. “Terra di Siena” is memory and heritage, a defining feature that connects directly to my passion for visual language.

From Siena to Norway: A Shift in Colors

Today, my life has taken me far from Siena, to Northern Norway, where colors tell completely different, yet equally powerful, stories. Here, another color dominates and defines the identity of a place: the red of the rorbu, the traditional fishermen’s cottages, now transformed into charming retreats for travelers.

But where does the color of these red Norwegian houses, known as rorbuer, come from? The answer lies in Scandinavian tradition. The red used to paint the rorbu is linked to the famous Falun Red, Falu Rödfärg in Swedish, a deep red shade derived from the copper mines of Falun in Dalarna County, central Sweden.

This pigment was ideal for protecting wooden structures due to its unique composition of water, rye flour, linseed oil, and mineral residues containing iron oxide, zinc, and copper compounds. In Norway, however, the paint had a different origin. It was created by mixing cod liver oil with bovine blood, an inexpensive and readily available solution that provided durable protection against the harsh coastal climate.

The History Behind the Rorbu

The very etymology of the word rorbu tells a fascinating story. It is composed of two elements: ror and bu. Bu denotes a small house and comes from the verb bo, meaning to live, thus indicating a house to inhabit. The ror part comes from the Norwegian word ro, meaning to row, harking back to the days when fishermen reached these areas with their rowing boats, long before motors were introduced in the 20th century. The rorbuer, therefore, were small homes serving as shelters for fishermen during their long, arduous rowing expeditions.

The origin of the rorbuer dates back centuries. Around 900 AD, tales spread along the Norwegian coast of abundant winter fishing off the Lofoten Islands, prompting fishermen to row and sail north. However, it was not until 1100 that King Øystein ordered the construction of the first rorbu in Lofoten to accommodate the influx of fishermen drawn to these cod-rich waters.

For centuries, these small wooden houses, always built near the sea, were the heart of fishermen’s lives. With the advent of motorized boats and the decline of rowing, many of these cabins were abandoned by the mid-20th century. Yet, around 1960, some were rented out to early tourists, who quickly fell in love with their unique charm. Today, many of these structures have been restored and transformed into cozy accommodations for travelers, blending tradition with modern comfort.

Staying in a rorbu is more than just an overnight stay: it is an experience that connects you to the history and culture of the Lofoten Islands. Imagine waking up surrounded by the sea, with breathtaking views and the salty aroma filling the air. It is an authentic way to immerse yourself in local tradition, celebrating the inseparable bond between humans and nature.

The Power of Color

Falun Red, with its characteristic opacity and unique way of reflecting light through silica acid crystals, remains a defining symbol of the Scandinavian landscape. At twilight, it seems to come alive: it grows more intense, almost radiant, transforming Lofoten into a fairytale-like scene, one that lingers in memory.

Faced with this beauty, I cannot help but reflect on the meaning of color. For me, it has never been just a visual detail. Whether in the contrade of Siena or along the Norwegian coasts, color is a language, a way of narrating roots, identity, and change. It is like an invisible thread connecting places and stories, allowing me to see the world through a deeper lens.

After "Terra di Siena", the red of the rorbu has become another shade that resonates within me. But this red is not just beautiful; it is alive. It is a color that evokes warmth and vitality, a symbol of resilience against the cold and, ultimately, of life itself. Here in the North, where the climate is often harsh, the red of the houses is not just aesthetic; it is a necessity, a reminder to stay vital and present, both outwardly and inwardly.

It is not a color that merely catches the eye; it has a depth that reaches the soul. It is a red that speaks to the heart, as Wassily Kandinsky once said: "Color is a power that directly influences the soul."