I'm sitting in Copenhagen and missing it. Missing the light, the sun, the smell of heather, the dunes, the horizon and the beautiful, creaky house that lies like a small castle at the end of the narrow gravel road. Klitgaarden Refugium settles in like the fine sugar sand from the beach that sweeps in everywhere, into pockets, shoes and bags. A retreat stay at Klitgaarden is more than just a stay. It's a transformative experience – at least the first time you're there. The second, third and tenth time it might feel more like coming home. Meeting a close and dear friend who makes you feel seen, loved and taken care of. Because that's what happens at Klitgaarden. From the moment you walk or drive in along the narrow road, past the sign with PRIVATE, and see the old, yellow Kongevilla towering at the end, you feel lucky. Extremely lucky. 

Many return. Again and again. Several times a year, if possible. Often even have the same room. Same routines. From working and being in flow. From going into the immersion without noisy, social obligations that break the ability to be with the material and the insights. From the light or deep realizations that come from being in continuous dialogue with the material, the ideas and the calm to filter thoughts and results from each other. Without having to think about shopping and cooking. Picking up the children. Walking the dog. At Klitgaarden, all structural everyday tasks are removed from your day. All you have to do is show up in the dining room three times at specific times. Exactly – out of respect for the staff and your fellow residents. Because the meal is the three social hubs that bind the residents of Klitgaarden together. Morning, noon and evening.

And the meals. Oh, the meals. The newspaper with your morning coffee. The freshly baked buns. The beautifully decorated salads. The tasty meals, carefully prepared by the wonderful staff, give life and strength. Presence and togetherness. Because at meals, researchers and artists gather and share experiences and curiosity. Parts of themselves and the knowledge that you spend a large part of your life refining and becoming more knowledgeable about. That's what good food can do. Make people meet, sense and relax. At the meal, everyone is equal. Equally hungry, equally expectant of the beautifully decorated dishes. Equally ready to take a break from work. A measured one or a longer one. It's up to you. No one raises an eyebrow if you sneak off after your meal and return to your desk or studio. Because that's why you're here. Socializing will not be a demanding duty at Klitgaarden, but an option that can provide inspiration and interdisciplinary perspectives from a world other than your own.

An artist says that every time she is here, she meets people who work with related fields of interest. It can be on the outer edges or in the inner core. It is equally valid. For the spirit of refuge shares and is inspired. Directly and indirectly. The point is that the inclusive sharing of knowledge takes place. Wandering from researcher to researcher, artist to artist and from artist to researcher, as it has wandered in the almost 25 years that Klitgaarden has been a refuge. As different links that contribute to the dynamic cogwheel with exactly what you can and do. The wheel is constantly moving, because residents arrive while others leave. Like a circular and parallel flow of energy that rushes calmly in and out of the house together with the wind from the Kattegat.

The Klitgaarden refuge spirit is like a positive variant of Murphy's Law: You get what you need. You meet the people you need to meet. As an implicit form of synchronicity. An artist said: "I always overlap professionally with someone in some sense when I'm here". A researcher added: "I feel restored, even though I've worked twice as much as I usually do". The artist added: "It's an important part of my process to come here and be a college family for a while. You understand other people and their work when you meet at the refuge." As an interpersonal exchange, one could add - professionally and perhaps privately. A community of interests that organically overlap and pollinate each other - briefly, deeply, fleetingly...

At Klitgaarden, a retreat depends on the seasons. The light changes. The sea makes its mark. The wind can be merciless. In winter, the cold creeps into your bones and marrow. It is the spirit of the retreat that speaks in the walls, beams and masonry of the summer residence. Every thought for its season. But always with the sea in your eyes. 24/7. The sea is with you like a beckoning from infinity. From the land of myths and ideas, which lets you borrow a little at a time. Sunrise and sunset. At Klitgaarden you can soak it all up right outside your window. And if you go on an excursion to the sunset square in Gl. Skagen, you will notice the place-specific traditions when people clap after the sun has set fire to the horizon and finally fallen into the sea. WTF? “When in Rome”, I guess,” you think and clap along.

Klitgaarden is a house that looks after you. A villa, born of King Christian X, designed by architect Ulrik Plesner and inhabited since 1914. 110 years of history in the foundation, in the high wooden panels and in the beautiful details that are repeated throughout the house. The natural materials, inspired by the English Arts & Crafts movement, which Plesner annexed to the house, are well seen, because the simple style of the honest materials still speaks the same appreciative language. Never down. Only up and at eye level without compromising the royal dignity and the majestic reverence of the house. That's what older quality houses can do. Look after you. Take care. As if they say, "I've been here for over 100 years, and I'd like to stand here for another 100. No gale from the Skagerrak can knock me down."

Despite Skagen's yellow-housed idyll and narrow streets, reality cuts in through your nostrils. A sharp and strong smell of fish wafts through the night and day for shorter and longer periods and awakens your Sleeping Beauty sleep. Because Skagen is also hardcore industry and fish is money. The contrast is essential, and reminds us that everyday life may have been put on hold for a while at Klitgaarden, but it lies out there teetering. Teetering between the artistic and the commercial. Between insight and turnover. Between thought and action. So dive into the work and enjoy it!

Klitgaarden is nestled in the bay south of Skagen – on the edge of the town, where the beach continues after the Royal Villa and the houses become fewer. From here you can spot the tower of the Tilsandede Church, which you can walk to if you dare to climb the thicket, which may be home to vipers. “Don’t walk in sandals,” is one of the pieces of advice I get from an artist who is used to coming here and who herself spent her childhood summers in Skagen. I think she’s exaggerating, but I know she’s right. And she is, because the very next day, a researcher has recorded a film of a black viper slithering along the wall of the house, right where we are enjoying our morning coffee. Jesus! At Klitgaarden, the spirit of refuge also shares other good advice about beautiful bike rides and the city’s best ice cream – and that you never Go swimming at Grenen. Every year the current and Neptune take their prey.

The artists' studios at Klitgaarden are hidden behind a hilly dune with rosehip bushes, so they are invisible from the road. The old stables of the Royal Villa have been converted into three functional workshops with skylights and swing doors to the bird's-eye view and orchard. In the summer, 'that is'. In the winter, an artist says that you can only work until daylight disappears. At this time of year, the working days end earlier, but are replaced by something else. Of immersion and research. Analysis and reflection. Because at Klitgaarden, the wind and weather decide. They set a mood that you, as a resident, adapt to. Work with. Always with. Because otherwise the house responds back. With creaks and creaks. Whistling wind and clanking doors. Klitgaarden is a noisy house, because the Royal Villa was a summer residence. And several people add that they have heard that it is haunted.

Sun and shadow affect Klitgaarden. Some rooms get so hot that you can't stay in them. Not think a cool thought. Then you have to go out for a while. Take a break. Be with the season until the shadow sets in and you can work again. The seasons at Klitgaarden also bring other natural experiences with them. Seals, wolves and killer whales are among the species that residents have spotted on their walks in the area. Just like the names of several of the houses. It's obviously a thing. That many of the houses in Skagen have names: Porsehuset, Langes Hus, Klitgaarden. It's charming and personal. Like a fairy tale. Klitgaarden is a fairy tale. Here there are both royal ties, stubborn nature and resistance in the form of the workload brought with them. But there is also spirit here, as described in the Guest Book for more than twenty years: “A dream of soul and atmosphere”, “Work flows so much better when you are here”, The shoulders are lowered, the eyes are stretched, the thoughts are moved”, “Klitgaarden is a house with spirit”, “You have close, spiritual conversations”. The food and the meals recur as a caring and loving cohesive force in that Guest Book. Like a common thread, where education and humanity sit at the table, and spin threads into the past, present and future. Weaving relationships and inspiring conversations.

Skagen's distinctive landscape is experienced on Klitgaarden's yellow bike. Through the plantation's intoxicating and spicy scent of heather and pine. Here it is green, yellow and golden. Here it is flat, yet dense and lush in its own dry way. Here the hills resemble bulging bellies – as if the landscape is lying on its back and looking up at the sky. The landscape and Klitgaarden belong together like hand in glove. Because both in the landscape and at the refuge there are high ceilings and high skies. Here there is an open horizon, open thoughts and an open heart. Klitgaarden is part of the self-understanding of the people of Skagen, and the fact that the royal family chose to spend their summer holidays here is part of Skagen's DNA. Klitgaarden has always been the pride of the town, and the 14 rooms each have their own characteristics and charm. But the best thing is that at Klitgaarden you can breathe. Here you feel at home, quickly, and can allow yourself to get into the flow. What a luxury to be able to let go and let your thoughts talk to each other. Ventilate. Producer. Across the board.

Gratitude is another word that recurs in the Guest Book and one that has been stuck in my throat since I stepped over the threshold. Gratitude for being allowed to experience it. The spirit of refuge in the Royal Villa at the top of Denmark, where two gardens merge. Allowed to experience and feel the care in the architecture, aesthetics and quality in large and small. Feel that it rubs off. On us who live and work at Klitgaarden for a shorter or longer period. Like a pocket of bliss and care. That is certain and certain. In a lucky period in May, when weather, sky and sea showed their most generous side, you blew me away and ensured that from now on I think of Klitgaarden into my working process and method, as often as I get the chance. So dear Klitgaarden. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

By Charlotte Christmas

Curator, editor, writer and advisor