Karl-Jo was born Karl-Johan Pettersson in Malmö in 1943. Studied at the University of Arts, Crafts and Design in Stockholm, then spent a couple of years in Paris. His early works feature streets, cabs and backlit representations of Sacré Coeur. A promising start, according to many. In 1971, when he was twenty-eight years old, Karl-Jo unexpectedly married twenty-three-year-old Elisabet Vidje in the town hall in Lund. They had met only a few months earlier. Maybe he thought Pettersson was too ordinary, because for some reason the couple took Elisabet’s surname. Later that same year, their son Simon was born. There is no date, but marriage and a baby in the same year, combined with the civil ceremony, suggest that the wedding may have been a necessity.

Karl-Jo produced very little during the early ’70s. Maybe life as the parent of a small child got in the way, or maybe he just lost his inspiration. Whatever the reason, he started up again in 1975, but his style had changed radically. A hill with a lone tree, the fields and forests of Skåne, always with a melancholy, dreamy air. This new style gave Karl-Jo his big breakthrough, and his paintings were seen everywhere.

When Anna clicks on one of the links to his work, a familiar motif comes up over and over again – the view from Tabor. Morning, afternoon, night. She finds several paintings of small dark pools, but just as Agnes said, none is a match for the mural. The palette doesn’t fit either. During the ’70s and ’80s Karl-Jo used bright, intense colours. His work got better and better, and towards the end of the ’80s he began to receive international recognition. He exhibited in Berlin, London and New York, to great critical acclaim. Then, just as Gunnel in the shop had said, everything took a significantly darker turn.

Karl-Jo and Elisabet’s only child Simon died in August 1990 in a tragic drowning accident not far from the family’s home. In that same year Karl-Jo was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a genetic eye condition that leads to loss of vision. Although his popularity continued to grow – he was regarded as one of the leading artists of his generation – no new pieces were exhibited during the ’90s or 2000s, and it’s not clear whether any were even completed. In 2010 a spokesman for the family announced that Karl-Johan Vidje was suffering with Alzheimer’s, and had given up painting completely.

A dull rumble makes the windows rattle. Anna still hasn’t got used to the blasting over at Glarea. The floor vibrates, as does the coffee in her mug. Tiny rings form on its dark surface.

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