A! performance festival: in conversation with director Hlynur Hallsson

A! performance festival: in conversation with director Hlynur Hallsson

A! performance festival: in conversation with director Hlynur Hallsson

In its 5th iteration, A! Performance Festival returned this year to galvanise Akureyri’s art scene. Showcasing the interplay between visual arts and performance, the annual four-day festival welcomed a variety of established and up-and-coming artists onto the Northern stage. I meet with Director of the Akureyri Art Museum, Hlynur Hallsson and two participating artists, Florence Lam and Sunna Svavarsdóttir, to discuss experimental variety, open structure and the element of surprise. 

Haraldur Jónsson (IS), Þröng/Thron, Hof Culture house, Akureyri (12/10/19) Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason. 

Claire-Julia: Can you tell us about the origins of A! Performance Festival, what was the catalyst for this project?

Hlynur: It all started 5 years ago, when we thought that Akureyri needed a performance festival, in that moment, we also realised that there was just no performance festival in Iceland at all. Ragnheidur Skúladóttir was the Program director of Theatre and Performance Making at the Icelandic Academy of Arts. There she had been engaged in the field of experimental theatre, so she was also interested in this dialogue between performance and the theatrics of visual art. Together with Bjarni Jónsson, her husband, they had been running Lókal performing arts festival in Reykjavik for some years before, so the groundworks were already in place. 

Akureyri also has a history on performance, for example, there was Rauða Húsið (Red House) built in the 1980s which was a very influential venue. It platformed artist Magnús Pálsson for example and became a place for lots of artists to showcase unusual exhibitions and productions. At the same time, there was also a couple of local Akureyri artists who had been focusing on performance, for example Örn Ingi Gíslason and Anna Richardsdóttir. Based off this history, we decided it would be a good idea to found this festival, mixing younger artists with more experienced ones, as well as local and international artists. From there it developed organically, this mixture was very well accepted and I hope it continues to be. 

C-J: With over eighteen artists involved in this year’s productions, each offering distinct performances, were there any standouts for you?

H: I liked very much the performances from Tales Frey (Brazil); Estar a Par and Be (on) you which featured a duo mirror act and a dynamic performance wearing connected shoes, I thought that was really amazing. Heart Song from Florence Lam (HK), who directed a mic towards her heart, was also a fantastic addition and a captivating performance on stage. Another standout for me was the endurance project by Icelandic art group ‘Kaktus’, who were in character during the whole festival. They started on Thursday evening and went on till Sunday morning, to be observed acting through a window wearing dog masks. Passers by on the street could stop to watch the dogs doing activities such as having a party, sleeping or eating breakfast. We welcomed a great variety this year; another example was the performance from Iris Stefanía and Hljómsveitin Eva (Iceland) on female masturbation. The first showing on Saturday afternoon was only for women and the second in the evening was open to everyone, it was a very interesting and feministic conversation. There were lots of standouts for me, although I am always happy with the festival, I think this year was particularly fruitful in terms of variety. 

Kaktus group (IS), Spangoland, Mjólkurbúðin / Visual artist project space, Akureyri. (10-13/10/19) Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason.

Dustin Harvey (CA), Less Plus More, Akureyri Art Museum. (11/10/19). Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason.

C-J: Has your own art practice, particularly the installation and performances aspect, influenced your relationship with this festival? 

H: In my time working as an artist and in my curatorial practice, I always wanted to include others in my works. When I had an exhibition I would often invite other artists, sometimes up to twenty, to take part too and that was usually well accepted. Over time, it became part of my work to facilitate meetings, conversations and projects between different people. For example, I ran a space for two years in Hanover, Germany, where I aimed to bring together and exhibit the collaborative work of two artists who did not know each other prior. Of course, this led to very interesting outcomes, both artists being influenced by the other’s output meant it was always a great experience. I have been involved in organising a lot of cooperative events in this manner and I think that undoubtedly influences my approach to A! Performance Festival. 

C-J: This festival is in cooperation with many cultural institutions, for example the Culture society, the theatre centres and the Reykjavik Dance Festival. As such a big collaborative enterprise, what role did the Akureyri Art Museum play in its realisation?  

H: The Akureyri Art Museum is the centre part of this organisation, but we are beginning to divide it more between the Art Museum and Akureyri theatre. Then it’s always great to have collaborations from others, both from grassroots organisations and the Visual Arts Centre in Reykjavik. We are also in collaboration with the students of Verkmenntaskólinn (Akureyri Comprehensive College), who come in to assist the festival artists as part of their curriculum, that is great to see. In addition, we have the video festival Heim (Home) is held in the city at the same time and that has been a very interesting combination. For the first time this year we also had an open call, from which we selected five candidates. That of course allowed us to broaden our horizon for the festival, it’s always great to have ideas coming in from new people. 

C-J: As Director, how would you characterise the aims of this festival?

H: The aim for us is to showcase variety, and to display the full extent of what performance can be. A work can end in two minutes or it can last for sixty-eight hours, it can be a performance for just one person or it can be hundreds of people taking part, there are no limitations. It is like opening a window to the audience here in Akureyri, to display what is happening in performance art elsewhere, but also to platform what artists are doing here in Iceland. The festival is free, there is no admission for the shows as we wanted it to be open for everyone. The programme is also designed so that the audiences can move from one viewing to the next. We hope that amongst the variety there will be something for all, and perhaps there will be something surprising in between that you discover for yourself. 

Snorri Ásmundsson (IS), Sana Ba Lana / Master Hilarion, Hof Culture house, Akureyri. (12/10/19) Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason.

From inside this years artistic cohort, Florence Lam (b.1992, HK) gives an insight into her experiences performing in the festival with her piece Heart Song. She explains, “This was one of my very first live performance pieces created in 2014. I am sitting still, as still as a sculpture. I am pointing a mic towards my heart. From the speakers, audiences will hear my voice explaining what the performance is about. The performance is an act of exploration, thinking about what performance, sculpture, art and myself performing as a ‘living being’ signify. I created this work based on my main interests in wonder and magic; by connecting the intimate action of listening to my heartbeat with the spoken text in my own voice, the performance created an illusion of my heart speaking directly into the microphone in human language. Like a human being performing with a special power.”

Against this backdrop, Akureyri-born artist Sunna Svavarsdóttir (1992, IS), who presented her work Invitation Inside a Stone as part of the Off-Venue programme, comments on the sense of wonder and dynamism this festival injects into the Northern community. Svavarsdóttir, whose work brings forth the subtleties of sensual experiences, recounts an anecdote of her performance.“Everyone became so serious when immersed in the work, the atmosphere changed. Even a runner slowed to a jog when moving past us, as if exposed to a funeral procession. It was fascinating to witness participants and onlookers’ reactions.” In interview, the artist remarked upon the “open and diverse model” of this year’s iteration, acknowledging the efforts made by the organisers to draw in a variety of participants. “This festival does a lot to the community here in Akureyri,” the local artist tells me, “there was such an exciting mix of national and international artists, I predict ‘A!’ will continue to evolve in this respect.” 

Florence Lam, Heart Song, Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason.

Sunna Svavarsdóttir, Invitation Inside a Stone. Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason.

For Director Hlynur Hallsson, this festival holds an exciting future; one which he hopes will continue to captivate audiences, enrich Akureyri’s art scene and stimulate conversation around what performance art can be.“I think that’s one of the interesting things about performance, especially in the nature of festivals, is that you never know exactly what will happen” he tells me.“There will always be something unexpected and the surprise-effect keeps it interesting. However, I think that we can always do better and receive a wider variety of performances. The goal is not necessarily to bring in big names from the art world, but rather to foster this mixture within the artistic cohort that I hope will become an enduring part of the festival. Another aim is to continue to build the off-venue programme, so that even artists who are not directly included in the festival will be able to take part in side projects whilst still being connected to the event. I think that is important to cultivate. I also hope that by showcasing these performances every year, it will become even more accepted amongst audiences and that it will hold an established position on the Icelandic art calendar.”

Amongst the ever-evolving facets of this festival, one salient characteristic can be predicted for certain; the breadth of variety on show. Make the leap to Akureyri’s Festival A! next year, performative surprises to all tastes will await you. 

 

Claire-Julia Hill

A! Performance Festival will next take place in Akureyri between the 1st and 4th of October 2020.

Cover picture: The Northern Assembly (N), Nordting, Hof Culture house, Akureyri. (12/10/19) Photo curtesy of Daníel Starrason. 

„It’s buzzing with energies“: Unpacking the Euro-Icelandic Art Exchange

„It’s buzzing with energies“: Unpacking the Euro-Icelandic Art Exchange

„It’s buzzing with energies“: Unpacking the Euro-Icelandic Art Exchange

Like an intricate seam, there are three layers of cultural thread which stitch Iceland’s art scene together with Europe. The first thread is interwoven through the individuals; the fibres shaped by the artists and the personal Euro-Icelandic connections they forge. The second thread is bound by the institutional exchange, which links museums, art centres and universities, both on local and international platforms. Operating in conjunction and of a more ephemeral nature, the final thread is composed by the reciprocal dialogues between art festivals and biennales; the layers of this seam, together, forming a complex network with Europe which is in a constant state of flux and evolution.  

For Icelandic artist and director, Steinunn Önnudóttir, the foundation of this exchange runs deep through individual connections, the tethers of which always pull Icelandic artists back to their homeland. “It’s through artists from Iceland,” she tells me, “moving abroad to Europe, making connections, and trying to maintain these links once back home. That’s how the basis of this exchange functions, on a very personal level.” Önnudóttir states connections as important everywhere, but notes the prominence these interrelations take on when engaging in an art scene as small as Iceland. Within this close-nit framework, French-born artist Claire Paugam recounts how vital it is for individuals to exhibit abroad and build connections within Europe. “In bigger cities” she tells me “the art scene has many layers, with many kinds of artists, art works and galleries, so there are multiple scenes within one. But here, in the arts community of Iceland, these layers become integrated, so you could be exhibiting with everyone.” In this respect, she says “there’s a real necessity for artists here to travel.”  

On the reverse side, we are also seeing increasing numbers of artists and curators starting to pass by Iceland on their way to Europe or America, often including a stop over at the university to give a talk or meet with students. “In every art scene” Paugam explains; “you have the core of artists, physically there, making projects and directing museums …and then you have this fluidity, this stream of people and influences from all over coming in.” In the case of Iceland, this external cultural traffic takes on a seminal role; injecting dynamism into the scene, providing new fountains of influence for the artistic core, and most prominently, aiding artists to forge connections and gain exposure internationally. “So in that sense, there are many individual dialogues” says the artist “It’s buzzing with energies and people coming from all over the world to shake up the scene.” Paugam, who has developed her practice in both Icelandic and European contexts, comments on the subsequent benefits this foreign exposure entails; “In turn” she says “there is a real interest for the Icelandic art scene, because I think it passes on this trend of Iceland as this beautiful, curious place.” The unique draw of the land of ‘Ice and Fire,’ a land which has become almost synonymous with myth, opens opportunity to exhibit in Europe. As Paugam tells me “people are inquisitive, they want to see.” 

Claire Paugam, Pouring Inside, 2019, Mixed media installation including two photographs, a sound piece, a video and ceramics. Presented at Flæði Art Space, Off Venue – Sequences Art Festival, Reykjavik. Photograph curtesy of Claire Paugam.

Rising to an institutional level, the exchange between Iceland and Europe invokes a longer standing lineage. The current Director of the Icelandic Art Centre (IAC), Helga Björg Kjerúlf, echoes this view, stating that the museum sector has been witness to a “constant Euro-Icelandic exchange, both on the conceptual level and on the formats of the exhibitions.” Historically, says Kjerúlf, “the community of Icelandic artists and curators in Europe has been very active, and this continues to create a vital feed into the local scene.” Iceland also has a particular status, the director explains, relative to its connection with Nordic and European cultures, as well as its proximity to the Arctic. Given the complex space the country occupies, Kjerúlf emphasises the role the IAC plays in assisting the promotion of regional artists abroad. There are some great figures stepping onto the stage at the moment, she tells me,“many of which have been carving a space for Icelandic arts. The role of the IAC is to work with and also represent these less heard voices.” Within this ethos, she states; “we strive to keep our eyes open to the younger generations.” To facilitate future discussions between Iceland and Europe, she plans to offer guidance to artists on ways to promote themselves abroad using digital mediums. “There is a lot they can do themselves only by being visible on Instagram for example.”

Due to its status and separation as an island, Iceland’s position within the international art dialogue has historically proven enigmatic. “People used to rarely pass through here” says Steinunn Önnudóttir. “In Europe, young emerging artists are able come to this point where they are travelling and exhibiting in many institutions, but even now, this communication still struggles to reach us.” The geographic disconnect naturally leaves Icelandic artists to contend with low exposure rates, as Paugam raises “You feel a bit isolated on this island…how do you get to be known elsewhere?” She calls for a push on more funding from the government and resources to be pooled into hosting artists at home and abroad to enable these institutional links. “Exhibiting in Europe is a privilege” she tells me “a beautiful opportunity” and one that needs to be fostered. She comments on the progressive steps that have already been made, but notes the room there is to evolve. The push on funding is one echoed by all the artists interviewed for this piece. “There is the will” I was told “we just need the way.” On the art festival layer, the exchange between Iceland and Europe grows dense. Iceland’s position on the global stage is one that is in a constant state of evolution, both in its engagement abroad and its creations at home. “The biggest change I have seen has been on the festival side” Kjerúlf reinforces „not only the curation of the exhibitions is more international, but we are also offered more guest talks and international projects…this is very exciting.” In 2017 and 2019, she worked as the Social Media manager for the Icelandic Pavilion at Venice, a role directly responsible for the promotion of Icelandic arts within the European discourse. “Both projects had a very positive public reception from the start” she explains. “This year’s 2019 installation by Shoplifter gave you a unique sensory experience, almost overwhelming. The challenge as a social media manager was to translate this atmosphere and document something so immediate and physical. The Icelandic Pavilions, thanks to a long series of artists doing very ambitious and liberated projects has carved itself a special place in the Venice platform. The event is now a major part of the Icelandic creative landscape” says Kjerúlf. 

Hrafnhildur Arnardóttir/ Shoplifter, Chromo Sapiens, 2019, synthetic hair. Icelandic Pavilion at the La Biennale di Venezia, Spazio Punch, Giudecca, Venice. Photograph curtesy of Elisabet Davidsdottir.

Back on home-turf, these art festivals mark animated creative periods on the Icelandic calendar and attract visitors from all over Europe. “I think they’re incredibly important,” adds Paugam, an artist who has moved in both the international and national biennale circuits. “Their temporality is a very interesting concept, it adds a lot of dynamism and liveliness to the scene.” In the upcoming weeks, Paugam’s work will be on display as part of the Sequences Off-Venues programme, the Icelandic arts festival that is increasingly being referred to as the ‘Icelandic Biennale.’ I ponder if the rebranding of this festival in the Eurocentric model is one of intent, or something that has grown naturally out of the event. “The term Biennale is so prestigious,” Paugam tells me, “people hear the name and their ears start ringing.” There is no doubt that the attachment of this name will garner more attention from abroad and legitimise the cause.

It is interesting to consider the magnitude and longevity of the Biennale models, in comparison to the off-centre festivals which are steadily developing in Iceland and forging connections with Europe. One such example is ‘Plan-B,’ held in the small fjord-side town of Borgarnes; the first contemporary art festival of its kind to hit West Iceland. This grassroots event is one that offers lively and experimental venues for international artists to push their practice to its limits. With their open-call, they offer artists of all backgrounds the opportunity to inhabit more rural areas of Iceland with art, using abandoned farms and old slaughterhouses as the scene of their exhibitions. Paugam, who participated in 2017, notes the “progressive and generous” model used by the founders, whose funds are pooled exclusively into the artists and exhibitions. By putting the artist at the centre of their work and creating something off-beat, Paugam predicts Plan B, and those like it, will grow bigger in the years to come, forging connections abroad and offering a distinct rural platform for Icelandic artists to step up and out onto the international arts arena. “Everybody gets to have a voice, which is pretty inspiring.”  

Maiken Stær, Strap on Butterfly, 2016, Plan-B Festival performance. Studio Mjólk, converted cow-shed, Borgarnes, Iceland. Photograph curtesy of Gissur Pálsson.

Drawing all these threads together, it is clear that Iceland’s dialogue with Europe is multilayered, and one of ever evolving-complexities. From individuals forging connections, institutions showcasing the fruits of these conversations and with Sequences on the horizon, what stands to reason is that these ties will continue to grow thicker and increasingly sophisticated. Set against the backdrop of a rising globalised world, one where modern technology is ubiquitous, Iceland no longer finds itself set apart from Europe, but at the forefront of this exchange. The only question left is where this international conversation will take us. 

Claire-Julia Hill 

 

Cover Picture: C.T Middleton, Map of Europe and Iceland, 1777, coloured copper engraving. Photograph curtesy of Thomas Bowen publication.

The Portal, Illuminated – Styrmir Örn Guðmundsson at Berg Contemporary 

The Portal, Illuminated – Styrmir Örn Guðmundsson at Berg Contemporary 

The Portal, Illuminated – Styrmir Örn Guðmundsson at Berg Contemporary 

 In a comic-book reminiscent and delightfully playful fashion, Styrmir Örn Guðmundsson unveils an intertwining of nature, human, and cosmic energy  in The Thirteenth Month at Berg Contemporary. Styrmir connects the human to our supernatural and earthly elements, performatively questioning prescribed social behaviors. His graphic are grounded in knowledge, placing our existence into the context of the cosmos, alternate realities, and portals to other dimensions. His large scale drawings invoke an endless circling of galaxies and dimensions, that correlates to the endless circling of life and culture. Styrmir illuminated some mysteries behind his work, as he spoke to me about the contexts of his recently opened solo-exhibition at Berg Contemporary.

“After building a maquette of the gallery I shrunk myself and travelled into it. I became very small in this big space. So small that I forgot about everything I had done in the past. I went through many ideas for shows. Then I recalled different artworks I had made in the past five years. Images and objects I had been using alongside my performances. I made scale-models of my works and curated several doll house exhibitions inside the maquette. I opened myself up and spoke with other artists about my ideas. Artists such as Gulla and Sæmi and Hrafnhildur and Halli. I looked deep into their eyes while extracting their reflections to ferment a concept for my show. I got to choose a date for the opening. Friday the 13th in September was my choice. Then, sometime in Spring I was hanging out in the gallery searching for inspiration. A friend of the gallery, Halldór Björn, started chatting with me and I proudly invited him to my upcoming exhibition in September – on Friday the thirteenth. He looked spooked and replied: “Oh the Thirteenth Month?” In that instance I ran upstairs and reported to Ingibjörg, the gallerist, “I have a title for the show!””

Three larger scale tunnel drawings take up the main gallery; drawn in detail by hand in pen. A mesmerizing tunnel leading us to an abyss of white, we are drawn inside, pulled into the center, tethered still in the gallery space. Crawling creatures, a sky sparkling with red and green and yellow electricity. A planet with a halo of multicolored human shoes, dates and whisper of lines of movement. Geometric forms surround and tumble out from the tunnels, leading to a mysterious other dimension. There is something ominous about them, and also inspiring, in the intricacies of detail. Styrmir’s landscapes are tethered in reality, and yet open up a portal, but to where? Another galaxy, A parallel alternate reality, perhaps? Styrmir explains to me this fascination with the portal:

“I am a hip hop artist. I used to b-boy. I’ve made a rap album in collaboration with a posse of gorgeous artists. My drawings are marinated by the tons of graffiti I used to do. I still draw with the same tools that I used for graffiti. For many years the vandal in me has been sleeping. Today I am more into the world of comics and storytelling with images. I love patching old thoughts with new and mixing mediums into an artistic omelette. In the Thirteenth Month I have drawings that I first made five years ago in black and white. These are portals that I originally drew via my first impressions of Warsaw, where I used to live. For the show I decided to give the portals a facelift by applying a new dimension of colour. And so I recycled them. The freedom of recycling is true to the hip hop nature.”

These five smaller black and white drawings are placed together, containing motifs based in the human. These graphic drawings are just one element of Styrmir’s multidisciplinary practice, as he describes to me:  

“Different disciplines are like different days of weather. I find it ideal to switch between activities depending on my emotional state. This way I can be an artist at all times. When I’m feeling blue I can sit down and draw or write a poem. When I wanna dance I make a performance. When I need to move my ass a sculpture is a perfect physical exercise. I feel the personality traits of introversion and extroversion within me. In my experience the introvert mixes well with the making of handicraft as well as writing. The extrovert makes for a good storyteller, singer and dancer. There are so many brilliant outputs in contemporary art. We are the luckiest of cultural workers.”

Switching between these different activities, there are also important elements of sculpture, performance, and breaking the fourth wall in Styrmir’s The Thirteenth Month. In one form, green sculptures of flying birds are propped up on a magnetic structure. The sculptures are plastic and abstract, flying in space in static motion. At the opening, viewers were allowed to touch and interact with them, making their shadows echo and shadow further out the boundaries of the gallery’s floors and walls. Here Styrmir critically and comically breaks an inscribed rule within the white cube phenomenon: do not touch. Similarly, an odd sculptural staff with a mirror is propped on the wall; guests can pick it up and see their reflection behind them. It is humorous and performative in a uniquely casual way that makes us question why these modes of behavior within our social art world are inscribed in us to begin with.

“I am used to being a performer in front of people. I love doing that, especially when extroversion levels are high. I feel great without the fourth wall. Things can go beautifully right or wrong without it. But I know it is demanding for the visitor to not have the fourth wall. Without the fourth wall people cannot snooze and eat popcorn. It keeps them on their toes. For The Thirteenth Month I wanted to continue the performance practice without being a performer or director myself. So I planted objects in the show with the hope that guests would meddle with them. I look at them as tools to activate the exhibition guest’s imagination.”

In the middle is a metal sculpture – guests were invited to try and take it apart, to solve the puzzle. Just this simple action created an atmosphere of comedy and lightness, breaking the often stiff, sterile, veering towards snobbish  nature of many art openings.

“The puzzle was one of the exhibition tools – a performance. Many gave it a go and tried to solve the riddle. Even philosophers and astrophysicists. They were sweating and blushing from trying to crack the challenge without any luck. Eventually a young cool person, by the name of Uggi, came along and solved the problem in a matter of seconds. He received a standing ovation from the exhibition crowd. Ingibjörg gave him the finest bottle of white wine as an award. Well done Uggi!” 

In these ways The Thirteenth Month is a then questioning of human nature – why do we follow our ascribed societal rules and patterns? In the face of the vastness of the cosmos, portals to other dimensions, alternate universes somewhere beyond, these norms are bleakly arbitrary.  Strymir pushes us to rethink the purpose and functioning of these almost sacralized behaviors of the white cube gallery space. 

“The art world is indeed a high brow place that mostly seduces intellectuals. Many people who are not workers in art feel unsure if everyone is invited to openings and art shows. Of course everyone is invited to art but looking from outside there is this air of exclusivity. People tend to think that contemporary art is something to be understood when it is merely there to tickle your feelings (just like all the other art forms). Art spaces are so sterile and there are some etiquettes such as do not touch. Thank God, otherwise our art history would be covered in mold and finger grease. In my exhibition, though, I have objects that are meant to be touched. But this invitation comes from my longing for live work or for an impromptu performance to happen.”

In the vastness of a cosmic reality, Styrmir questions these ascribed behaviors, high brow nature, exclusivity, etiquette, standing quietly in awe, etc. How can we interact with art in a way that is  more playful? Like Styrmir ponders, “Death. Science. Near-death. Animalia. Life.” – There is a whole cosmos out there, and how banal are our art world interactions, in relation to all of this? Perhaps his exhibition, The Thirteenth Month, is a lesson to be learned; not to take ourselves quite so seriously in the face of art.

Daría Sól Andrews

 

Photos: Courtesy of BERG Contemporary

 

„You are the Input“ by Ingunn Fjóla Ingthorsdóttir at Gallerie Herold, Bremen

„You are the Input“ by Ingunn Fjóla Ingthorsdóttir at Gallerie Herold, Bremen

„You are the Input“ by Ingunn Fjóla Ingthorsdóttir at Gallerie Herold, Bremen

Arriving on the train to Bremen, I found the artist-run Galerie Herold by following a set of abandoned train tracks from the station. Upon arriving in the gallery, I stood in the main door frame and looked into the exhibition by Ingunn Fjóla Ingthorsdóttir, seeing the alignment of three frames in perfect alignment ahead of me. As I stood in the doorway and looked into the exhibition, the last frame caught the exact outline of a panel of pastel pink on the far wall; framed in such a way, it seemed as though a panel of pink glass was set in the last frame. This same optical illusion occurred every time the frames spun into alignment with one of the pastel panels on the wall.

The impression was of being in the middle of an optical illusion on a scale fit for the human body, especially because on the floor of the space was lightly drawn a grid-like pattern; the exhibition’s title, You are the Input, added to the impression that the optical illusion was about perspective in painting and emphasized the way in which the input of the viewer has already shaped and interpreted the scene just by looking. However, in this exhibition, the viewer is invited to go further than looking and actually interact with the scene by rolling the bright red snooker balls across the floor, hearing their light ‘smack’ into each other, and spinning the frames on their axis to create new variations of the scene as they fall into and out of alignment with the pastel-painted panels spaced throughout the room. The title also refers to inputs in systems as the installation can be seen as a systematic pattern that is disrupted by the input of visitors.

The round red balls could be a button of some kind in which moving them from one location to another sets a system into motion that follows a sequence unbeknownst to the visitor. The round red balls could also be all the uses of circular spheres ever, not to mention, the demarcation on a map in which the red dot symbolizes where you are. This implication pushed the perspectival study at play in the exhibition into a much wider study of the body in space. I soon began to experience the exhibition as though I were in a landscape painting.

What is incredible about Ingunn Fjóla’s installation is that she sees painting as being the starting point for her practice. With the perspectival inquiry of a painter, her installation takes as cue all of the changeable factors that go into the act of painting as well as the viewing of a painting. Among the moveable materials are frames that can be set into rotation on a center axis, reiterating the notion of the frame as being something the viewer has a choice in the extent of their engagement. As well, the way in which frames represent a certain ruling function in aesthetic experience is brought up for questioning. The frame, instead of being a ruling factor, becomes part of the shifting perception of the space. In conversation with the artist, she told me more about her relationship with painting:

„I have always seen painting as the foundation of my art practice, even though I am not a very typical painter, as I usually make installations or three-dimensional work. I am very interested in the history of painting, especially abstract painting and the evolution of what is often called expanded painting. But my relationship to painting is also full of contradictions. The question of how to do something new within this old and loaded medium is a challenge that fascinates at the same time as it frightens.“

While there is something of the systematic in the installation, like a human-scale model of systems theory, its participatory nature is like an analog recreation of something we are more familiar with through a digital interface, whether it be a videogame, or simply navigating apps on your phone. It is as though the viewer is shown the way in which the relativity of perception cannot be understood without the process of looking. As a model of a possible universe, the exhibition (and art in general), offers a way to observe the special significance of the role of the eye in perceiving and the influence of frames of varying kinds.

This is perhaps where Ingunn Fjóla’s question of how to do something new with the medium is most striking. It is a slow exhibition, however, revealing itself to you as you spend more time looking. Other questions arise the longer you stay, such as, what is the meaning behind the outer frame being the only non-geometric pattern in the space (it is painted in an unfinished manner, greatly contrasting with the rest of the monochrome swaths of the space). Also, the backs of the frames have been curiously painted half yellow on two corners and half matte grey on the other.

As I helped the gallery manager reset the exhibition, which meant placing all of the bright red snooker balls on circular placeholders at the intersections of a grid-pattern drawn on the floor of the two rooms of the exhibition and setting all of the frames into alignment, the manager tells me that the bright yellow paint on the frames match the pastel yellow-painted in panels on the walls, but only at certain hours. At this hour (5 pm on a Sunday), it does not correspond to the light arriving from the windows, but I believe her.

„I love painting (the texture of paint, the colours, the painting strokes, the scent, the canvas, the frame, etc.), but at the same time, I feel very restricted by the two-dimensional picture plane. For me, both the making of painting and viewing painting is a very bodily experience that involves all of the senses. That’s why I usually make works where the viewers have to move around to experience it, take it in through their bodies. My interest in the viewers experience has in my most recent works evolved into making the viewers become a more significant part of the work, as the guests of the exhibitions activate the works, sometimes by their actions or touch or sometimes just by their mere presence in the room (where I have used motion sensors).“

In the exhibition, painting is an idea and an experience in which we are creatively involved, although not necessarily through painting, and are not merely passive consumers of images. You are the Input takes the viewer back to the phenomenology of painting. A new mode of painting emerges that brings more than ocular centric perception. A bodily engagement with the world as it occurs on the boundaries between the body and its surroundings, or as an overlap between perceiver and surroundings, in a way that links bodies, movement, and objects into a unified system. The painter tries to catch the movement from what is sensed, felt and seen from the small details of perception to perception within a universal sphere.

 

Erin Honeycutt

 

 

The exhibition You are the Input was on view from September 13th to October 13th at Galerie Herold in Bremen, Germany.

Photos courtesy of Franziska von den Driesch.

Pavilion Nordico: a bridge between the Nordic countries and Argentina

Pavilion Nordico: a bridge between the Nordic countries and Argentina

Pavilion Nordico: a bridge between the Nordic countries and Argentina

I met with Sara Løve Daðadóttir, Josefin Askfelt and Emil Willumsen who are part of the team behind Pavilion Nordico in Buenos Aires, a project established in early 2019 which functions as exhibition space, residency and art centre for Nordic creators. The project aims at creating connections between the Nordic countries and Argentina, facilitating the encounter of these two different cultures and promoting cooperations and exchanges between Nordic and Argentinian creators and professionals.  

Ana: First of all, why did you decide to bring this project to Buenos Aires? 

Sara: This is a question a lot of people ask, especially Argentinians. What is so special about Buenos Aires? Well for one, it has a very rich cultural scene — you could compare it to Berlin some years ago. It’s very lively, with a lot of things happening and a lot of independent spaces and temporary spaces. But also it has a real infrastructure when it comes to art and culture. There are many big private and public museums and international galleries. These are perfect circumstances for a project like Pavilion Nordico.

Plus, Buenos Aires is one of the epicentres of the Spanish-speaking art world, and one of the things we wanted to do with Pavilion Nordico is to create bridges between the Nordic region and different international regions. There’s a divide between the English-speaking and the Spanish-speaking art world, and the Nordic region leans more towards the former, so we wanted to see if we could connect them more. Oh, and then there was also a lucky circumstance that made us start the project in Argentina. Now we are already considering expanding the concept to other regions!

Facade and interior of the historical villa hosting Pavilion Nordico. Photos: Javier Agustín Rojas.

Hyper Hyper aka Kolbeinn Hugi and Franzeska Zahl being interviewed by PAVILION NORDICO’s Nele Ruckelshausen at the residency in Buenos Aires. Photo: Dagurke.

A: This is quite a big project, did you get any funding to run it and develop it?

S: This first year was our “pilot year”. It was meant for us as a period to test out the concept and find what works and what doesn’t. For this, we received generous funding from the Nordic Culture Fund and The Nordics, a new initiative by the Nordic Council of Ministers. For our tour of the Nordic countries later on, we also receive some national support, for example from the Iceland Art Center and Myndlistarsjóður.

And of course, all partners and art professionals we have collaborated with all have put in a lot of time and resources. Without them, the project would not have been possible.

I think it’s noteworthy to mention that most art and cultural projects are run on the goodwill of a lot of talented individuals, who often only get paid for a margin of their time, if at all. In the Nordic region we pride ourselves on our creatives, but this does not reflect in the support these sectors are given. I do hope that forward-thinking politicians and private companies who support the arts and culture in the Nordic region, will come to acknowledge this substantial unpaid labour and create better infrastructures to accompany this fact.

A: The team behind the Pavilion Nordico is constituted by people from different Nordic countries, how did you meet?

Josefin: Well, Sara and I met through a project called Utopian Union. Emil and I run a graphic design studio called Kiosk Studio. Pavilion Nordico invited us to pitch a visual identity for the project. We put a lot of effort in our proposal because we really wanted to be part of this project — and were selected.

We wanted to create a visual identity that represented the project’s spirit of connecting people from different regions. So we used the concept of modern maps and locations systems as a reference.

Most residencies don’t put a lot of focus on their visual identities. The older institutions have a very sober, non-communicative way of presenting themselves. But graphic design is a very democratic way of opening up the project: good visuals are a great way of inviting communication. It’s not about making something cool, it’s about inviting people, and that’s what this project is all about.

S: Our team and collaborators are all from very different backgrounds. We have people in Iceland, Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, and of course in Argentina. And the list is only expanding… even though we are working on a project together, everyone lives in different cities. Of course, we all spend time together when we can in Buenos Aires, Copenhagen or Berlin, but it’s definitely a very nomadic way of working. We rely on video calls, lots of mails and slack to make things happen.

Other than Kiosk Studio our partners in this first year included Icelandic Cycle Music Art & Festival, Berlin-based Gruppe Magazine and a big group of super skilled art and cultural professionals that really helped drive the project forward — such as Icelandic artist and curator Birta Guðjónsdóttir, Director of Cycle Music & Art Festival Guðny Guðmundsdóttir, German art historian and curator Niko Anklam and Danish political scientist Karl Granov. We are very lucky for having such a driven and inspired team!

A: Could you elaborate a little bit more the aim of Pavilion Nordico? How you are creating connections between the Nordic countries and other regions?

S: Existing residencies from Nordic countries outside of Europe, for example Swedish Iaspis or the Danish Cultural Institute, manage their own national residencies — but we wanted to push collaboration on a united Nordic level. We think it makes sense to represent the Nordic region as united when outside of Europe. Combining our different resources under our shared Nordic values will only result in stronger platforms for Nordic artists and creators.

On an international level, joint Nordic initiatives like Pavilion Nordico also foster strong new collaborations with creatives from other countries, which often continue in new projects and collaborations. This is already happening for us. One of our residents, designer Bettina Nelson, developed a chair in collaboration with local design studios and craftspeople. Now we have a new project, PN1, underway that specifically aims to bring together Nordic designers with Argentinian creatives. This is a good example of how we would like to work: it’s not about the Nordic culture being exported to Argentina; but more of a cooperative process from which both parties benefit.

A: You have hosted artists and designers in Pavilion Nordico, so it is a multidisciplinary residency, right?

S: Yeah, it’s indeed multidisciplinary, and it’s not just artists and designers, we are also open for applications from chefs, activists, scientists, writers, filmmakers and more. We are not interested in the usual criteria. Rather, we want to ensure there will be a strong collaborative element in the residencies and project ideas that connects the project to Argentina.

J: We are interested in creating a community, working as a community, and representing Nordic values such as equality, openness, and environmental protection.

S: Equality is a topic we got really involved in during this first year. The 8t​h​ of March, International Women’s Day, is a BIG day in Argentina. Pavilion Nordico dedicated parts of his program to the issues that where raised during the protests and festivities of that day. We joined the around 400.000 people marching the streets of Buenos Aires, and organised a dinner and informal talk after for female creatives to exchange their experiences. Iceland is number one in the world when it comes to equality; Argentina is unfortunately very behind — even though it is a modern and developed society. That’s why we really encourage applicants to propose projects that centre around the topic of equality.

A: How has it been the response of the local community to this new Nordic project in Buenos Aires?

J: Emil and I spent a month there, researching within and around the design scene. We felt really welcomed. People were eager to get in contact with us, and it was an awesome experience.

S: When we were there together in the first month we also had to fix a lot of things in the residency space, and everyone we encountered had a really positive attitude. You really get the feeling that things are going to turn out well.

We also felt really welcomed by the art world and the design world: curators, directors of the biggest museums in Buenos Aires, people from the galleries — everyone came to our opening!

A: Is the development of the program still in progress? You had a really long open call, right? How did you define the program?

S: This first edition was a sort of prototype, so we created the widest possible call for projects and residents. We just wanted to give people the chance to bring their ideas to the table. Since it was such a fresh project applicants could shape it a lot, and they can still shape it a lot.

We have just announced an Open Call for designers, and we are planning on testing a lot of other things as well. It’s much like a laboratory at the moment for us to find the perfect model for the coming years.

A: Can you compare the art scene in Buenos Aires with the one in Reykjavik?

S: That’s difficult because Reykjavik is so much smaller, and there is hardly an infrastructure for art. I feel like the art scene in Reykjavik is still in its infancy, and that’s not the case in Argentina, where you have a developed art scene with museums, galleries and international fairs. Argentina used to be among the richest countries in the world, and I think this is why they could put so much money in art and culture. In Iceland the art scene is quite fresh, so I think that in this sense, actually Argentina is way ahead. If you compare people’s energy however, you’ll find both Argentinians and Icelandic people have a really proactive way of working and doing things.

J: I think it’s also important to keep in mind the distinction between the Spanish-speaking art scene and the Western art scene. Like Sara said Icelandic art is in its infancy because it’s so new, but Icelandic artists are getting much more recognition in the Western art scene than Latin American artists. It’s hard to compare the two systems, but we’re hoping to create a dialogue between them!

From left to right: Anna Rún Tryggvadóttir ‘Internally’ (2015) / Arnar Ásgeirsson ‘Soaps’ (2017). Installation view of the exhibition Reaccion á Islandia. Photo: Graysc.

From left to right: Leifur Ýmir Eyjólfsson ‘Manuscripts’ (2018) / Ivalo Frank ‘Untitled’ (2017). Installation view of the exhibition Reaccion á Islandia. Photo: Graysc.

Front: Anna Júlía Friðbjörnsdóttir, Natural Fringe 2018 / Back: Ivalo Frank ‘Untitled’ (2017). Installation view of the exhibition Reaccion á Islandia. Photo: Graysc.

A: Both Iceland and Argentina are former colonies, do you think there is some kind of decolonizing process going on now in Argentina?

S: In April, during the Buenos Aires Art week, we had a show called Reaccion á Islandia​, named after a Borgers’ poem about Iceland. The exhibition was organized and curated by Cycle Music and Art Festival which has taken place in Gerðasafn since 2015 and has worked a great deal with postcolonialism in the Nordic Region. They brought this theme to Buenos Aires inviting artists from Greenland, Iceland and Norway. A lot of the guests who came to see the exhibition were surprised that there has been, and there still is, colonialism in the Nordic Region, and I think we ourselves are only beginning to reckon with things like the Danish treatment of Greenland.

I can’t speak on the efficiency of the decolonization process in Argentina, but it’s very clear that class structures are still quite pronounced. That’s why in future editions, we hope to work more closely not just with urban creatives, but also local, rural communities such as the craftspeople and traditional workshop that will be involved in the design project.

The reaction to the exhibition opened our eyes to the necessity of building bridges and creating a deeper understanding between two very far away places. The sympathy and understanding that the international language art and culture can create, new perspectives can unfold, and I think it’s good.

A: What’s the plan for the future of the project?

S: Over the next three years we want to develop PAVILION NORDICO further and see where that takes us. We are looking at the possibility of opening residencies in other countries as well, since the idea has always been a Nordic exchange with the whole world, not just one region. Our dream is to get the Nordic Council of Ministers involved as an official supporter. Let’s see!

Ana Victoria Bruno


Featured image: Graphics for the International Women’s Day by Kiosk Studio.
Pavilion Nordico: https://pavilionnordico.org
Kiosk Studio: https://www.kioskstudio.nu

A Kassen’s exhibition „Mother and Child“ at Kling & Bang

A Kassen’s exhibition „Mother and Child“ at Kling & Bang

A Kassen’s exhibition „Mother and Child“ at Kling & Bang

The exhibition Mother and Child by A Kassen acts on the relationships between the viewers, the architecture and the artworks, inviting us to look at things from different points of view and to take into account the physical space surrounding us and the works. Mother and Child is a show that seems to confront borders, engaging with the architecture which at some point seems to be both the subject of the exhibition and the viewer to which the show is addressed.

View from below (Standing woman) is the first piece we encounter. The work is to be enjoyed from two locations which offer completely different angles on the piece: it can be seen from Kling & Bang, from where we get an actual view from below the basis of the sculpture, and from the Living Art Museum, the exhibition space downstairs, where we can enjoy the sculpture emerging upside down from the ceiling. This work operates in the specificity of the Marshall House, in fact it functions as a connection between the two exhibition spaces. Kling & Bang, the Living Art Museum and the Stúdió Ólafur Elíasson are three art spaces which coexist in the building without really collaborate with each other, coming together every other year when the Reykjavik biennial Sequences takes place, but keeping their activities separate and the borders between them quite defined during the rest of the time. Kling & Bang and The Living Art Museum have a really intertwined history as they used to collaborate intensively, but nowadays they both want to keep their own identity, which is completely understandable. However, it is somehow pleasant to see a sculpture breaking through these limits and creating an element of disruption into the everyday order.

Sculptures, unlike paintings, are made to engage with visitors in a different way, statues extend in three dimensions and this allows visitors to move around them and contemplate them from different perspectives. However, showing a view from below of a sculpture is not a conventional way of exhibiting it, therefore when making sculptures I believe few artists consider the viewer’s gaze from that perspective. Allowing the viewers to examine the underside of a sculpture translates conceptually into letting them glimpse a more intimate part of the artwork, where the relationship of the artist with the piece is unveiled, a part which is not usually meant to be seen and therefore contains traces of spontaneous and unrefined gestures. The statue is a classical female nude statue, and the view from below doesn’t actually offer much to see: the square foundation of the sculpture is embedded into the floor, two small footprints from which two holes constituting the legs origin and disappear into the dark interior of the bronze cast sculpture, but the conceptual twist is that the piece somehow lets viewers peek into the secret of art-making.

A Kassen, View from below (Standing woman), view from Kling & Bang. Photo credit: A Kassen.

A Kassen, View from below (Standing woman), view from The Living Art Museum. Photo credit: Ana Victoria Bruno

Walking into the second room of the exhibition space we encounter the work Exhibition Poster (Marshall house) which constitutes a pile of posters depicting the ceiling directly above the work. Unlike most of the artworks exhibited in museums and galleries, this one can be taken and brought home by visitors. This gives the possibility for that specific bit of ceiling to become a mobile object, inverting its characteristic of being static, countering our idea of buildings as immobile shelters. This remarks the importance of the space hosting the exhibition, since when the poster has found a new home on the wall of someone’s place, it will recall the exhibition space, as if that was the actual subject of the exhibition.

A Kassen, Exhibition Poster (Marshall house). Photo credit: Ana Victoria Bruno.

In the main room of Kling and Bang two sculptures are inserted into the floor, revealing to the viewer the negative of the statue, the inside of the cast. The upper part of these works, View from below (Mother and Child) and View from below (Il Porcellino), are not meant to be seen by human eyes as they are embedded in the architecture: the sculptures are small and they don’t make it through the floor, herby we can just picture in our mind how they look, and that comes easily since both of them are well known sculptures. Both of the works are hidden, as if their purpose wasn’t to be showcased but to bring our attention to that obstacle which blocks our view: the floor. The architectural elements are barriers delimiting private and public spaces, structures through which we organise our lives, physical borders which affect the way our lives and our society function.

These well-known sculptures incorporated into the floor make my mind runs toward those symbols which shape our society and are very much embedded in our lives, we might not realise how much what we think and do is the result of those invisible ancient structures shaping our existence. We don’t need to see a sculpture of the Mother and Child to know how it looks, because we have thousands of images of that composition in our mind, the symbol of Maria holding a baby Jesus is as embedded in our mental structures as that sculpture is in the floor.

A Kassen, View from below (Mother and Child)Photo credit: A Kassen.

Installation view View from below (Mother and Child), View from below (Il Porcellino) and Ocean underneath. Photo credit: Ana Victoria Bruno.

On the wall three photographs titled Oceans underneath portray pieces of a broken world globe corresponding to the oceans, where lines draw the ocean beds representing mountains emerging from the ground deep down in the oceans. On one hand these photographs seem to operate in an opposite way of View from below (Mother and Child) and View from below (Il Porcellino) as they show the viewers something one can’t usually see, on the other hand this work conceptually functions like the statues in the floor: there are various layers of representation in the works, they are pictures of the world globe, so a representation of a representation of the bottom of the oceans, and this creates a distance between the viewer and the subject, and it seems to hinder the visualisation of the object just like the floor hinders the viewer’s gaze on the statues. This piece seems to refer to the structure through which we know the world: many things we are not able to experience in first person, but we see or become aware of their existence through representations, either photographs or writings about them.

A Kasssen, Ocean underneath. Photo credit: A Kassen.

A Kassen, Geothermal heating / fountain statuePhoto credit: A Kassen.

In the last room we encounter the work Geothermal heating / fountain statue, bronze statues of fishes are placed in the room, crossed by extension pipes which connect them to the heating system of the building. Hot water runs into the pipes, which go through the wall, enter the fish statues bronze mouths, exit from the bottom of the sculptures, and back through the wall to reconnect with the heater system in the adjacent room. This work seems to reverse the meaning of fountain, if these statues were fountains we would see water sprinkling out of their open mouths, while in the piece the water gets into the statues, contained into the pipes. The water is more of a metaphysical concept in the system of the work, since we can’t see it but just imagining it running into the tubes.

In the Icelandic long and cold winter, the heater system is to the building, and the people working there, as the circulatory system is to the human body. The hot water is life-blood of the building, and by attaching the work to the heater system this piece places itself at the very core of the former fish factory, reminding us of the importance of the building. Art is here connected to the physical space, the whole show seems to drive out attention on the physicality of the building, operating on it, creating new connections and making us aware of the space and its specificities.

 

Ana Victoria Bruno

 

UA-76827897-1