Life in Art: The Visual Symphony Exhibition at Kjarvalsstadir Museum

The Kjarvalsstadir branch of the Reykjavík Art Museum is holding a retrospective exhibition of Bragi Ásgeirsson (1931- ), an artist who is often credited with popularization of printmaking in Iceland. During his career, he has explored different styles, manners, materials and techniques. The present exhibition “Visual Symphony” features his work from the early 1950s until present time. 

Bragi Ásgeirsson (1931- ) is a person, who through being an artist, an art teacher and an art writer, devoted his life to art. “Visual Symphony” reflects not only on his artwork but also on his role as an art educator, who with endless energy stimulated the interest of students and the public at large in art and its values.

Review by Victoria Cross, photos courtesy of Kjarvalsstadir Museum.

 

General View of the exhibition.

The exhibition presents around 100 works of Bragi Ásgeirsson; their placement—the works spill out from the halls to a corridor, from corridor to the walls of the cafeteria area—is a testament of his fecund career.

By turning left from the main entrance of the museum, visitors are brought to a little room, covered from top to bottom with newspaper pages of Bragi Ásgeirsson’s articles or articles about him—a very direct way to represent the volume of his writing.

When Ásgeirsson started to write about art or cultural happenings on the international arena in the early 1960s, Icelanders didn’t have much access to such topics. But through his words and eyes the exhibitions of Paris, Germany and Norway came closer to home; the faraway mysterious places like China or Japan became more familiar.

Leafing through the collection of his articles and family albums, you feel as if you are holding history in your hands. Feeling Ásgeirsson’s passion for art makes it even more enticing to see what his paintings are like.

 

“Ljósbrot” (“Refraction”), 1991; “Hryn,” 1990-2001; “Klidur i Vori” (“Ripple in Spring”), date absent.

The exhibition of Ásgeirsson’s artwork is divided into four periods: formative years (1947-1954), the years of printmaking and geometric abstractions (1955-1960); assemblage period (1960-1980) and return to painting (1980-present).

Like many Icelandic artist, Ásgeirsson’s started his art education in Iceland (Icelandic College of Art and Crafts) and continued it in Europe, at first in Copenhagen and later in Oslo.

To compliment his studying and get acquainted with different cultures, Ásgeirsson traveled to Rome, Florence and Grenada. He entered the art stage in a very exciting period when the world had just recovered from the devastating war and a sense of collective exhilaration, at what seemed be the dawn of a new era of possibilities, was still in the air.

The works created by Ásgeirsson in his formative years mirror the broad variety of styles existing in the art world at that moment. This is interesting to observe in his treatment of female forms, to which he returned again and again in different manners from realism to cubism. One also cannot help but noticing his keen sense of color and desire to experiment with it.

 

“Fyrirsæta” (“Model”), 1950.

During his studies in Norway and Denmark, Ásgeirsson discovered printmaking, an art form that wasn’t widely practiced in Iceland. Upon returning home he became one of the leading experts in this field.

At the same time Ásgeirsson explored the world of abstractions, which flourished in the 1950s. He chose to concentrate on the geometric abstractions. From 1958 to 1960 he studied under the mentorship of a prominent artist of this genre, Jean Jacques Deyrolle (1911-1967), although his earliest geometric abstractions appeared as early as 1955.

 

“Kyrrd” (“Stillness”), 1960; “Myndbygging” (“Structure of a Picture”), 1960.

Geometric abstraction is an exceptionally interesting genre because each viewer responds, visceral and reflectively, very differently to the various colors, scales, visual rhythms and moods of different paintings.

If you look at the 1955 painting “Dagur himinsins/Himinleikur,” you notice that three white rectangulars, varied in sizes hold the focus of the composition. Each of the rectangulars hold the yellow-colored shapes, which suggest the source of light.

Ásgeirsson uses stripes of different width to accentuate each rectangular. The different directions of the stripes (horizontal in the lower rectangular and vertical in the upper ones), and their varied width, create a very different effect on the colored shapes inside them. (It is interesting that he uses stripes in this early work because later in the 1960s it became very popular among avant-garde artists to create so-called stripe paintings with Gene Davis being the most prominent example of this genre.)

The use of the diagonal lines creates a sense of movement as well as a placement of the rectangulars slightly off center. The red color elements serve as a divider of the plane of the painting and since the bright color inevitably attracts our attention, we shift our gaze following it, which bring our eyes to the upper level of the painting towards vibrant blue and yellow.

Although it is a non-presentational painting, the arrangement of colors and shapes suggest the sky, the sun and movement. Unexpected details like playful black and white dots here and there create a carefree mood.

Every art work is a mini-ecosystem. If you remove all the stripes from the rectangulars or imagine unmodulated red instead of different shades of it, the balance of the composition will change entirely. Looking at other geometric abstractions in the hall, you will notice that the artist was constantly experimenting with different colors, shapes, proportions, and arrangements, honing and intensifying skills he had already possessed.

 

“Dagur himinsins/Himinleikur” (“Day of the Sky/Sky Play”) 1955.

The hall on the left is devoted to the assemblage period of Ásgeirsson’s work, which he approached with same creativity and zest as his geometric abstractions. The work presented in this hall belongs to a different kind of abstract art where “found objects” (shells, stones, pieces of fabric, bones, toys, etc.) are incorporated in the picture plane.

Most of these objects were found on the Selsvör beach, by the artist and his children. Again, the artist effortlessly engages the viewer and coaxes him in coming closer for further inspections. Two portraits, “Madame X,” 1977 and “Frúin ofeimna,” 1978, stand out among other pieces. The focus of the faces are on scarlet lips while other traditional features like nose and eyes, which give character to a face, are missing.

Those portraits can be viewed as an ironic take on commercial beauty as a form without substance. I was drawn to the vivid blue of the “Madame X” dress. It looked as a gorgeous lace from afar. Up close I discovered that it consists of broken toys, springs, zippers, and sea weed. In a spirit of “parting with tradition,” Ásgeirsson did not sign this work in the corner as usual, but put the first letter of his name, “B”, as a medallion on the Madame’s necklace.

 

“Madame X,” 1978.

After the end of the 1970s, Ásgeirsson returned to experimentations with colors and shapes. In his most recent works he explores the possibility of a singular color, using its different shades, various strokes, and texturing.

 

“Rautt i raudu” (“Red in Red”) 2006.

“Visual Symphony” is a very well organized exhibition, which creates a wonderful retrospective for those who are familiar with and fond of the work of Bragi Ásgeirsson and a great introduction for those who are not familiar with his art.

 

Photo portraits of Bragi Ásgeirsson.

The exhibition is on display until November 16.

Tel: (+354) 517-1290
Flókagata, 105 Reykjavík
Open daily 10 am to 5 pm
Free admission

September 29 | Unfulfilled Promise: The Pleinairism Exhibition in I8 Gallery

For its “pleinairism” exhibition, I8, one of the oldest galleries in Reykjavík, gathered together 38 artists from different countries, who work in different media, are of different ages and are at different stages of their professional careers. The title “pleinairism” refers to the technique of working outside under natural light, and the exhibition explores the meanings of this concept in modern times. 

 

What do you envision when the press release for an exhibition has the word “pleinairism” in its title? For those who are familiar with art, the light saturated paintings of Renoir, Monet, or Alfred Sisley will immediately spring to mind.

What do you expect when on top of the ambitious title the gallery promises to show the works of 38 artists, among them such established ones as Hreinn Fridfinnson, Ólafur Elíasson, Ragnar Kjartanssson, Peter Diog, Fransis Alÿs and Tacita Dean to name a few?

Whatever your expectations are, you will be in for a surprise.

Courtesy of the gallery.

My high hopes shattered as soon as I saw Peter Doig’s work. He is a well-known artist, whose first retrospective exhibition was shown in London this spring. His painting “White Canoe” was sold at auction last year for GBP 6.1 million (USD 11.1 million, EUR 7.7 million), which is quite a record for a living European artist.

This gave me reason to expect some high quality art. Doig’s work is represented by four pieces in a series called “Swimming Heads.” Considering his credentials, the quality of the work presented is, to put it mildly, puzzling. A few half-hearted childlike strokes on an otherwise bare surface was not what I expected.

“Swimming Heads,” 2008 by Peter Doig.

A look around the exhibition shows that most of the artists offered pieces that are very different from their typical styles. Ólafur Elíasson, who usually works with installations and large-scale immersive environments, is represented by an unusually modest series of drawings—“Tilted Light and Grey Disks.” 

Tacita Dean, who has worked with different media but is best known for her 16mm films, presents snippets of text from her notes of 1986/1987. Ragnar Kjartansson, who has been chosen to represent Iceland at the Venice Biennale in 2009, takes a similar approach, offering his open Moleskine notebooks to viewers.

The idea had a much more interesting angle when it was posted on YouTube as part of the Detour exhibition. There you were able to see the pages turn and the sketches come alive before your eyes, but at this exhibition Kjartansson’s notebooks are simply notebooks, lacking depth and vitality. 

 

“Sketchbooks,” 2001- 2006 by Ragnar Kjartansson.

The brochure that accompanies the exhibition states, “The exhibition ‘pleinairism’ is, with some exception, a selection of work on paper by artists, most of whom are rarely associated with plein air activity.”

It was indeed truly interesting to observe the flights of fancy of the participating artists. There are watercolors drizzled by rain, drawings on the bark of a birch tree, cutouts from a magazine arranged in an erotically charged collage, a paint trail left by the corpse of a bird on a bright yellow napkin, insects glued to paper, texts both handwritten and typed, paintings, photos and sketches.

General view of the exhibition; photo: copyright Valdís Thor. 

My personal favorite in this regard is a patina* painting by Karen Sander. In the words of the author, “The primed image carriers are taken, without prior manipulation, to a selected location and remain exposed there for a period of time to be determined. This process of absorption can continue infinitely or be interrupted at some point. Duration, the name of the location [...] determine the painting and provide its title.”** You can judge by the title, which is “1 hour rain,” what had been done with the canvas this time.

“1 hour rain”, 2007 by Karin Sander.

But if most of the aforementioned techniques are amusing there is one piece of ready made that left me wondering about its author and the reasons why it would be included in the exhibition, aside from the fact that the artist, Elín Hansdóttir, is represented by the gallery.

It is a receipt from a store in Berlin. It strikes me as a galling attempt to convince the public that anything at all can be called art as long as an artist insists that it is so. On the bright side, there should not be any arguments about the cost of this work of “art.” It is stated plainly on the receipt itself.

“Receipt,” 2008 by Elín Hansdóttir.

There are some traditional offerings like ink drawings by Oliver Lutz, two small sun-lit paintings by Fransis Alÿs, a watercolour of Johanna Fauerso and photographs by Jeremy Deller and Michael Snow. They provide a lively contrast to the more perplexing pieces and keep the viewer engaged.

“Lapin,” 2008 by Michael Snow.

You cannot speak about the “pleinairism” exhibition without mentioning the contribution of Hreinn Fridfinnsson, a classic of Icelandic conceptual art. His photographs “Studies for Drawing a Tiger” were especially interesting to me. Two photo images are shown side by side—the author as a child and again as an adult caught in the act of drawing.

To me these images symbolize the promise of the exhibition to explore the connection between past and present, artists of different generations, form and substance. Technically the exhibition fulfills this promise—there are artists of different generations present; some pieces on display are more then ten years old while some are brand new; each artist was offered cart blanche to explore the topic—but the results sadly stress quantity over quality.

“Studies for Drawing a Tiger,” 1971 by Hreinn Fridfinnsson.

All in all, “pleinairism” is an interesting exhibition in the sense that it is obviously inviting viewers to an open discussion on what is considered to be art in modern times, on where to draw the line that prevents art from becoming a self parody.

If the goal of the exhibition, on the other hand, was to introduce some new artists to Iceland, some of the choices of works are questionable at best. Considering the fact that it is held in one of most respected galleries in Reykjavík, this exhibition was disappointing to me; I expected higher standards from I8.

The “pleinairism” exhibition is on display until October 26.

Gallerí I8
Klapparstígur 33
101 Reykjavík
Tel (+ 354) 551 3666; (+354) 690 5706
Open Tuesday to Friday, 11 pm – 5 pm
1pm – 5 pm Saturday and by appointment

* Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines “patina” as: a) an usually green film formed naturally on copper and bronze by long exposure or artificially (as by acids) and often valued aesthetically for its color, b) a surface appearance of something grown beautiful especially with age or use.

** The quote from Karen Sander was taken from a press release of her 2005 “Gebrauchsbilder” exhibition at Galerie Nordenhake, Berlin, Germany

 

Journey to Abstraction: “The Shape of a Line” at the Reykjavík Art Museum – Ásmundarsafn

Review and photos by Victoria Cross.

Ásmundarsafn is one of the most delightful museums in Reykjavik. Its collection isn’t trendy or edgy by modern standards, but the building itself, the sculpture garden around it and the pieces exhibited inside create a peaceful oasis in an otherwise ordinary neighborhood.

This branch of the Reykjavík Art Museum is devoted to the work of Ásmundur Sveinsson (1893 -1982), one of the most prominent Icelandic sculptors.

The building, located on Sigtún, is hard to miss. Its white dome, framed by two pyramid-like wings and the crescent-shaped gallery at the back command the viewer’s attention. Its outlines are especially striking against the blue sky.

Sveinsson, who worked and lived here, designed the building, inspired by Greek and Egyptian architecture. After his death, both the building and his collection of sculptures were donated to the City of Reykjavík.

View of the Museum.

The current exhibition of Sveinsson’s work, “The Shape of a Line,” concentrates on a period of his life during which he focused almost exclusively on abstract art. The earliest piece presented was made in 1947 and the latest in 1965.

If you consider in what year the house was built you will see that its construction dates back to the same period as Sveinsson’s exploration of abstraction.

The sculptor started the construction of the house in 1942 and its expansion continued into the beginning of the 1960s. Therefore, the building becomes not just a space for holding Sveinsson’s art work, but can itself be considered a part of the exhibition.

Interestingly, one statue doesn’t fit into this time frame. It is “The Water Bearer,” from 1937. For me it has come to represent the transition between Sveinsson’s figurative work and abstraction. One can clearly see the human shape, but all proportions are askew, the weight of the buckets strains the shoulders and pulls the arms toward the ground, creating an almost animal-like silhouette.

The heavy figure rooted in the ground presents a humble but powerful image. It isn’t surprising that when the sculpture was ready for installation, it caused controversy. The public viewed both the mundane matter and style as far too avant-garde. 

“Water Bearer,” 1937-1938.  

After the mid-1940s, when Sveinsson started to explore abstraction in his work, his art developed into two different styles. His carved pieces preserved some figurative features, but his iron and steel rod compositions evolved into pure abstraction.

The exhibition presents these two manners of abstraction side by side, angular and rounded shapes contrasting with each other, often in the space of one sculpture. 

View at the exhibition hall.

My personal favorite is the “The Last Sea Voyage,” which is a perfect image of the upward movement of the waves carrying a ship. It has escaped one wave, yet a bigger one is gaining force and threatens to sink it.

“The Last Sea Voyage,” 1960.

Light is especially important for accentuating the form and modeling of sculptures. Sveinsson viewed the sculptor’s art as “taking material, forming it, and allowing the light to play with it.”

The airy space of the Ásmundarsafn museum—created by the sculptor with his own creations in mind—is perfect for showing off the exhibit. There is an organic connection between the light streaming from above, the pristine white walls, the placement of the windows and the ever-changing shadows. 

Second floor: “The Face of the Sun,” 1961; “The Flash of Life,” 1950.

When observing Sveinsson’s work, one cannot help but wonder how a person born and raised on a remote farm (Kollstadir in west Iceland) in the late 19th century became interested in art.

Sveinsson couldn’t have seen many examples of Icelandic art; at the rise of the 20th century there were only three people in the country who chose art as their professional path—two painters, Thórarinn B. Thorláksson (1867-1924) and Ásgrímur Jónsson (1876-1950), and sculptor Einar Jónsson (1874-1954).

In fact, the first art exhibition ever held in Iceland was in 1900. Perhaps it was the magic world of Icelandic folklore that kindled Sveinsson’s imagination, a tapestry sewn by his mother or the craftsmanship of his father, who was a carpenter.

Whatever the reason, in 1915 Sveinsson left his home and launched his journey into art. He first learnt woodcarving and then studied sculpture. This journey brought him to Reykjavík, then Denmark, Sweden and later France.

Sveinsson was taught by and became acquainted with the work of great sculptors, such as Carl Milles, Aristide Maillol, and Charles Despiau. Each of them had a great influence on the young artist and helped him in the search for his own style.

One of the earliest works of Sveinsson “The Kiss” is situated in the sculpture garden. He created it in 1924 when he was 29. Its subject, material and simple composition bring to mind the statues of antiquity.

But already in “The Kiss” one can see that the sculptor is more concerned with expressing reality rather than imitating it. He purposefully styled his sculpture in an archaic manner, simplifying details, like hair, into geometric forms. The placement of the statue outside the garden also conveys his view of art as belonging to the public.

“The Kiss”, 1924, fragment.

From that time on Sveinsson began a gradual movement toward abandoning the representational form. In the course of 20 years, human and animal figures start to disappear from his work, making room for abstract forms.

By the age of 50 the sculptor almost solely concentrated on abstract art. The “Shape of a Line” exhibition is a great opportunity to see the results of his journey to abstraction.

The “Shape of a Line” exhibition is on display until August 31.

www.artmuseum.is
Tel: (+354) 517-1290
Sigtúni, 105 Reykjavík
Ásmundarsafn is open daily
May-Sept. 10am-4pm
October-April 1pm-4pm
Free admission

 

June 09 | Scent and Sensibility: SMART exhibition in Gallery Ágúst 

(This article was published in Iceland Review online)

SMART is the name of the solo exhibition of the young Icelandic artist Andrea Maack. SMART is a multilayered word: amusing; clever; witty; fashionable; bright – each of these words can be used to describe this exhibition, as well as the gallery that has chosen to present it.

Review by Victoria Cross.

 

“SMART”/ Ágúst, photo: copyright Victoria Cross.

Ágúst is a young gallery that will be celebrating its first anniversary this summer. Its owner, Sigrún Sandra Ólafsdóttir, views her mission as to create a place for showcasing works of contemporary artists, but also a place where people can turn to if they have questions about art or need advice on buying pieces of art. During the past ten months, the gallery has had five exhibitions of Icelandic and foreign artists.

Ólafsdóttir was interested in art from her early years, but never thought that she could make a career out of it. When she discovered the world of art fairs in Italy, she realized how her love for art could be turned into a business and as the result the gallery was born.

Managing the gallery is an ongoing learning process and Ólafsdóttir continues to learn from veterans of this field as well as by studying art theory in the University of Iceland. In choosing the artists she follows the advice of one of her mentors: “You have to do your research but you also have to follow your gut instincts.” This time her hunch has brought to the viewers the exhibition of Andrea Maack.

 

“SMART” drawing by Andrea Maack, photo: copyright Victoria Cross.

Maack works with various media and is in a constant search for interesting ideas and refreshing ways of implementing them. She toys with perceptions of beauty, appearance, or self-improvement, and throws into the mix her interest in fashion and design. Her new exhibition is a very unusual offering, which engages all the senses of its visitors; you can view it, touch it, smell it, try it on, hear the interesting story behind it, and even take a piece of it with you.

Maack presents her own perfume made in collaboration with the French company APF – Arômes et Parfumes and Happyscents from Grasse, France. The name of the perfume, SMART, gave the name to the exhibition. The perfume is made in a limited edition, with each set having four pieces. Each bottle is hand-decorated and comes in a custom-made box.

 

“SMART” perfume; photo: copyright Bjarni Einarsson.

Nearby is a drawing cut into 252 individual pieces, each signed and numbered, to be used as testers for the perfume. The design of the drawing is similar to the inscriptions on the perfume bottles, and renders the artist’s image of the scent. By presenting her work this way, Maack creates an ever-changing exhibition – as people come and take one of the testers, the whole pattern of the drawing is slightly shifted.

 

“Artist in action,” photo: copyright Anna Ellen Douglas.

It is a provocative idea to present perfume in an art gallery. Puritans of art can easily dismiss it as simply a commercial project. But, if art in its pure form is artistic self-expression, what can reveal a personality better than perfume?

Scents surround us everywhere. They have the power to evoke images, create emotions and awaken memories. They are easy to identify, but difficult to define and even harder to capture. You have to admire the creativity of a person who decides to tackle such a complex task. Coco Chanel famously said that “a woman who doesn’t wear perfume has no future.” Interestingly, Maack meant for her perfume to capture visions of the future rather than memories of the past.

The perfume business has been on the rise in recent years. Long gone are the days when it was considered a luxury. In search of individuality or exclusivity, people turn toward smaller, lesser known perfume houses and Maack’s creation fits the bill – it is a limited edition and can easily become a collectable item.

 

“SMART” bottom by Andrea Maack, photo: copyright Victoria Cross.

Maack graduated from the Icelandic Academy of Art in 2005, and has exhibited her work in the Living Art Museum, Kling & Bang and the Sudsudvestur Gallery. The “SMART” exhibition is Maack’s second collection devoted to the human desire of constant improvement – be it with the routine of physical exercises, mental activities, or by donning fashionable clothes and accessories. Her “Work out Art” collection included marble-like weights, accompanied by a pencil drawing of the brain as a mental muscle. So, here we have a theme of wearable, useable art – a sensible approach in our fast-paced world.

It is hard to say if Maack will continue her perfume adventure or something new will capture her attention, but it will be interesting to see her next project.

The exhibition is on display until June 28.

Gallerí Ágúst
Baldursgata 12
101 Reykjavík
Tel (+ 354) 578 2100; (+354) 869 2013
art@galleriagust.is
www.galleriagust.is
Open Wednesday to Saturday between 12 pm and 5 pm and by appointment.

The article was published in Iceland Review on line

A splash of colors will greet visitors on the second floor of the Seltjarnarnes Library when the work of artist Aleksandra Babik goes on display May 15. Deep orange, ultramarine blue, luxurious red and shimmering silver form a wonderful palette, and one cannot help but feel uplifted by the artist’s visible love for color. 

Reykjavík is generally filled with ultramodern, edgy art, which routinely shows up in every big or small gallery. Conceptual sculptures, collages, video installations, and photographs are in abundance here. On the other hand, a traditional oil painting is hard to come by, which is why Aleksandra Babik’s exhibition is such a delight. 

Review and photos by Victoria Cross.

Aleksandra Babik was born in Skopje, the capital of Macedonia. She grew up in an artistic family and began to draw early in her childhood. Her grandfather—an artist—was her first art teacher, introducing her to the world of colors and form.

Babik decided to major in economics, but didn’t abandon her passion for art. She studied in a private art school in Macedonia and supplemented this with private lessons from a major artist there. In January, 1999 she won the first prize in a group exhibition of “Young and Talented Artists.”

Babik and her husband came to live in Iceland in 1999, and became Icelandic citizens in 2006. She was accepted to the Icelandic Art Academy (Art College at that time), but due to family reasons decided to finish her Master’s degree in economics first.

For the past nine years, holding a full-time job, rearing children and studying, Babik continued to paint, experimenting with different styles and techniques. Now she is ready to show her work to general public. 

Despite this exhibition being Babik’s first in Iceland, some of her works have already been sold to private collectors in the USA, Sweden, Macedonia, and Iceland.

For her professional debut the artist selected samples of different genres, all of them are in her favorite medium—oil on canvas.

The first painting that caught my eye was a small still life “Mediterranean Dinner.” Its composition isn’t complicated—a pumpkin, a fish, and three figs positioned around a squash on a table top; the plane of the picture is flattened, but such arrangement helps the viewer to focus on the color relationship between those simple objects. 

The red of the tabletop, dashed-off highlights on the pumpkin, flecks of bright green, jewel tones of the fish scales, and deep purple of the figs are balanced perfectly together. Up close, the swirls of paint appear random, yet are revealed to be precisely placed once you step back. The lavish texture deepens the colors and the overall effect strongly recalls the works of old masters.

 

“Mediterranean dinner,” 2008

The artist’s love for color is most evident in her abstract “Fish series.” To her, the world of the sea is “the source of all the colors” and she uses stylized, heavily outlined, mostly similar fish forms to accentuate her color exploration.

Babik’s rich treatment of the paint—layered, distressed, scumbled, scratched—adds an ancient feel to the canvases. One might easily imagine them somewhere on the crumbled wall of a Mediterranean villa. Placing one of the fish images inside the frame and highlighting it in a white glow, the artist achieves the effect of a “painting within a painting,” thus focusing a viewer’s attention on the inner part of the fish form.

 

“Fish series,” 2007

The “Dancing Swan” doesn’t immediately reveal its connection with the fish series. But it shares the same deep-blue background, and its general outline echoes the outline of the fish forms. The placement of a little fish—designed more as a stamp, rather than an image—in the lower right corner ties it all together.

“Dancing Swan,” 2008

It is always interesting for me to hear how an artist works. Through experimentation Babik learned that priming her canvasses in black helps her to see and lay on colors. It gives her a better feel for their development, and also allows using the border of a black canvas as a natural frame for the paintings. She uses her own work as inspiration at times. “Sea World,” here reworked in oil, was originally created in pastel when she was 17. This painting is the vivid example of her amazing attention to detail and precise brush control. 

 Insert “Sea world,” 2007

Nobody can live in Iceland without being affected by its beautiful nature and Babik pays tribute to it with a series of landscapes. She combines different textures, smooth strokes for depicting the sky and the grainy texture of lava in the grassy area at the bottom. The artist isn’t satisfied just capturing the image; she strives to create a sense of drama. In this case, an overcast sky, fumes from a volcano, contrast with tranquility of green grass to create a dramatic effect—a sense of impending storm.

 “Landmannalaugar,” 2007

Babik’s talent as a colorist is clearly seen in “Snaefell.” She manages to take incandescent reds, oranges and yellows, and contrast/balance them so effectively and naturally against blackish purple and cerulean blue that this seemingly unearthly palette creates a breathtakingly magical landscape.

 “Snaefell,” 2007

Pure love for color and the ability to celebrate it is a rare gift. Kandinsky wrote that “color directly influences the soul.” He compared colors to the keyboard and the artist to the hand that plays, “touching one key or another purposively, to cause vibration of the soul.” It seems like we have a masterful pianist present.

The exhibition is on display from May 15 to May 31.

http://www.seltjarnarnes.is/bokasafn
Bókasafn Seltjarnarness
Eidistorgi 11, 2. floor
Tel: (+354) 5959170
Open Monday – Friday 10 am – 7 pm
Saturday 11 am – 2 pm
Free admission

04/14/2008 | 11:00

 

This article was published in Iceland Review online

Time in Our Life: The Strymid/La Durée Exhibition at the National Art Gallery

What is time? What is it exactly we are measuring by seconds and minutes? How does time flow? Is it reality or illusion? Those questions inevitably come to mind when trying to ponder the fundamental nature of time.

Review by Victoria Cross, photos courtesy of the artists.

The current exhibition at the National Gallery brings together three female artists—two from Iceland, Gabríela Fridriksdóttir and Gudný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir, and one from Switzerland, Emmanuelle Antille—in an exploration of the elusive concept of time. Though the exhibition is united by the theme, its layout separates each artist’s work into individual halls, indicating that it can be viewed as three separate art shows.

The first floor of the gallery is devoted to the work of Emmanuelle Antille. She has been working with video since the start of her artistic career, exploring family ties, interactions between different social groups, human feelings and desires. It is important for her as an artist to generate real emotions in the spectator, and video installations provide her with this opportunity. The body of work that the artist displays for this exhibition consists of two video installations, drawings, and a series of portraits—altogether entitled “Tornadoes of My Heart.”

This project focuses on the world of teenagers, the time of life when everything is uncertain and unpredictable, when rules can seem so constricting, and when moods can change so quickly and dramatically. The tornado image is central to this series as the artist sees it as a representation of teenage life: “It is powerful, violent and unpredictable, although it can vanish in the air as fast as it appears, and in the end it is only wind,” Antille says.

The turbulent emotions of two young men, at the threshold of adulthood, are explored in the video, “Kill me twice, dear Friend, dear Enemy.”  It is shot as a documentary and centers on the love-hate relationship between two best friends. The Tornado, the central image of the series, appears here as a silent witness of their self-destructive relationship. It frames the segments and also closes the movie.

 

“Kill me twice, dear Friend, dear Enemy” by Emmanuelle Antille.

The second installation, “Floating, Crashing…,” focuses on the rituals, codes and language between teenagers of the same group. Six screens surround the viewer in a small darkened room. There is no escape from raging emotions, repetitive chanting of the lyrics, and images streaming from the screens. The defensive layers of the skin are instantly penetrated and the impact goes straight to the soul.

“Portrait series” by Emmanuelle Antille.

In the hall filled with portraits of teenagers, one particular piece caught my attention—a series of drawings with a poem. “The Wasted Lyric” was written by the artist, but it could as well have been a teenager’s writing, discovered in somebody’s diary. Its crude language can be shocking, but it mirrors the love-hate relationship of the videos and shows the unexpected vulnerability and tenderness of its author:

…I won’t turn away
   I’ll hide you under my skin
   Keep you in my belly…

“Wasted Lyric” by Emmanuelle Antille.

One the second floor you will see the work of Gabríela Fridriksdóttir. This is her first exhibition in Reykjavík since 2006. If Emmanuelle’s work, though symbolic, is grounded in reality, Fridriksdóttir creates a surrealistic universe, and populates it with peculiar creatures of her imagination.

Her drawings, sculptures, and video work intertwine with each other; the drawings appear in the movies, and black rocks from the video can be seen at a table in the center of the hall.

“Centerpiece” by Gabríela Fridriksdóttir.

Both videos presented in the National Gallery (“Inside the Core,” 2006 and “The Ouroboros,” 2007) are imbued with rich symbolism, steeped in Icelandic landscapes and ancient sagas. “Inside the Core” explores the timeless theme of creativity and the agony of searching for inspiration, while the “Ouroboros” deals with unity of life and death, dual nature of all things, flow of time and eternal presence of nature.

The idea of “Ouroboros” is based on the ancient symbol of a serpent devouring its tale and forming a circle. In its broadest sense it represents the continuality of life, where the end is often a new beginning and the new beginning often marks the end of the past. The artist describes the “Ouroboros” as a “journey through the seven vertebrae of the snake, which together create a universe of souls.”

“Ouroboros” by Gabríela Fridriksdóttir. Photo, copyright: www.we-make-money-not-art.com.

The work of Gudný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir provides a vivid change from the more assertive styles of the two previous artists. Muted colors, transparent materials, and delicate paper cut-outs bring you into a world of calm concentration. “Requiem,” which the artist chooses as a musical accompaniment to her visual work, deepens this atmosphere. Her abstract drawings recall the world of biology in their shapes, repeated honey comb patterns, and precise numbering, but Ingimarsdóttir steers clear of specific references, leaving the field open to any number of associations and feelings.

“Scared by stupidity” by Gudný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir.

Ingimarsdóttir’s layered pieces bear the traces of memories—old notes, maps, and wallpaper are often used as the background for her work. Some of them even carry physical elements of time, like wallpaper in the vitrine below, which has been rolled for nearly 50 years until the artist forced it open and brought it back to life by cutting out the outlines of the flowers, allowing them to blossom.

“Vitrine-wallpaper” by Gudný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir.

Ingimarsdóttir’s work is about “duration of time,” an endless journey between past and present, where time is measured not by seconds but by the recollections of precious moments. “Every line made has a tendency to place me physically somewhere—taking an old drawing (paper/document earlier handled) places me back into a situation, awakes feelings no longer accurate but worth looking into and analyzing.”

A time-framed passage to adulthood, the empirical time of archaic myths, the universal time of abstraction… all can be viewed as isolated entities as well as integral parts of the complex ever-changing whole.

The exhibition is on display until May 1.

www.listasafn.is
Tel: (+ 354) 515-9620
Fríkirkjuvegur 7, 101 Reykjavík
Open Tuesday to Sunday, 11 am to 5 pm
Closed on Mondays
Free admission

The article was published in Iceland Review on-line.

Silent Clues: The Silence Exhibition at Reykjavík Art Museum – Hafnarhús

Finnbogi Pétursson, Haraldur Jónsson, Harpa Árnadóttir and Finnur Arnar Arnarson.

Review by Victoria Cross, photos by Brooks Walker.

Silence is something that we take for granted until we are deprived of it; something that at times we crave and at others cannot wait to run away from. At the recent exhibition at the Reykjavík Art Museum – Hafnarhús, four Icelandic artists, Finnbogi Pétursson, Haraldur Jónsson, Harpa Árnadóttir and Finnur Arnar Arnarson, took on the difficult task of exploring the world of silence. All four artists are well-known; all have worked in the field of art since the early 1990s; all have exhibited their works both in Iceland and abroad. This exhibition is intriguing in its concept and execution, and, for me personally, it became a learning experience. When I first entered the hall several weeks ago, the exhibition was perplexing to me. All I saw was a strange collection of seemingly random pieces – an oddly shaped wooden piece on the wall, a line of magnifying lenses, an abandoned mat with the remains of what seemed to be a picnic, seven fish heads, each one in a separate jar, and a piece of glass suspended from the ceiling. The hard-to-find titles gave little clue for interpreting the art. Ironically, my impressions fit nicely with the theme of the exhibition – everything was silent to me. It took several readings of the brochure, return trips to the museum, and learning about the artists to fully appreciate the exhibition. A closer look at the lenses reveals upside-down images of moving objects. These appear, and disappear, leaving emptiness behind. You don’t immediately realize that they are the reflections of the street outside – passersby, cars, the street itself. The world of reality is turned upside down. This is the artwork of Finnbogi Pétursson, entitled “Moment”.

 

 

 

“Moment” by Finnbogi Pétursson.

The artist is renowned for his work with sound. He has described his installations as “acoustic images of the present,” which makes his approach to silence even more enticing to see. In much of his work he uses sounds as an instrument for creating visual or mental images; here he uses silence to draw visual pictures of moments in time. There are 24 lenses lined up on the wall. The number isn’t accidental – in having 24 lenses the artist subtly suggests a link to film, as 24 frames per second (FPS) was the traditional rate needed to fool the eye in sustaining the illusion of smooth motion. The upside-down images demonstrate the same principles as “camera obscura,” the device that preceded the invention of photo cameras. The combination of modern techniques and equipment, together with old principles of “camera obscura” can be seen as a connection of past and present. All of Pétursson’s installations are space-specific and here he makes clever use of the gallery wall and the high windows overlooking the street.

As the reflections of the street draw your attention to the windows, you are led to the work of Harpa Árnadóttir. If the work of Pétursson has a very direct, practical approach, the work of Árnadóttir is very lyrical. Even the titles can be read like lines from a poem: “They hang on the heavenly hooks (the tears)/I stand for a while under a roof of rain”; “Meanwhile”. A clear glass rectangular pane suspended on steel strings shows the painted traces of rain. Circular patterns recreate the precise moment of raindrops hitting the surface.

  

“They hang on the heavenly hooks…” by Harpa Árnadóttir.

The theme continues with the drawings of the rain on four windows. Harpa worked along with the rain tapping outside, and what you see is her impression of the rainy pattern of that particular day. The images, though still, constantly change their appearance due to the different light and weather conditions.

 

 

 

 

“Meanwhile” by Harpa Árnadóttir.  

Her work evokes the soft silence of rainy days; the serenity of viewing them from inside. Silence and rain is a direct passage to childhood memories for her: “Falling asleep in a silent house while listening to the sound of raindrops on the iron roof. [...] It makes you think that nothing could ever harm you; brings you to the heart of tranquility itself.”

The theme of silence is a constant companion of Árnadóttir’s work; she has explored it previously in her paintings using just hints of colors, creating barely perceptible images, “lucid stillness.”

The untitled work of Finnur Arnar Arnarson unceremoniously yanks the spectator from the poetic world and firmly places him back into reality. He staged a real-life scene using scattered clothes and crumpled bed sheets, food leftovers and photos as his instruments. The artist moved into the exhibition hall for several days before the opening of the exhibition, slept and ate there in solitude. Then he moved out, leaving behind the trappings of his living and with them the silent memories of his past.

 

 

 

 

Close up from “Untitled” by Finnur Arnar Arnarson.

Arnarson goes further taking a look at the world of silent dreams. Seven photos of fish, taken with a Polaroid camera; the heads of the same seven fish in jars filled with formaldehyde; the invisible presence of  their bodies locked in a freezer; the video images of the two hands that created the scene; the cross of a window frame leaning against the wall. The composition is open-ended.

 

 

 

 

 

 

General view of “Untitled” by Finnur Arnar Arnarson.

Arnarson presents the viewer with the results of a sequence of action, leaving us to wonder about the reasons or connections between them. In the artist’s words, “Something happened and someone was dreaming in the museum. You can see the results and try to imagine what the dreams were about.”

Turning towards the exit you will face the work of Haraldur Jónsson, entitled “Hella”. It was the most puzzling piece of the exhibition for me at first, but gradually became one of my favorites.

Jónsson always works simultaneously in many layers, with every small detail thought through and adding to the meaning. The world “hella” used as the title is an Icelandic word for pressure in the ears that people experience either during plane flights or when diving into deep water. This pressure muffles sounds, bringing you closer to the world of silence. This word also has a second meaning – a tile in a pavement or a slab. Thus the connection between the real, tangible world and the world of feelings and perceptions is established right from the start.

In connection with the above is the choice of material—compressed light wood and insulated carpet—which imperceptibly affects the acoustics of the space. In its shape “Hella” links the theme of the exhibition with the museum itself. It recreates the outline of the ground plan of the museum, reminding us that the museum itself is a place of muted sounds, silence and silent viewing.

 

 

 

 

 

“Hella” by Haraldur Jónsson.

The part in the middle of the “floor plan” is left hollow despite the fact that it is a part of the museum. It is used mostly for private parties, which take place after official hours and are inaccessible to the general public. As Jónsson explains, “The inner contours of the piece thus surround the absent chatter and laughter of the parties, and the piece becomes even more silent by this very fact.”

A photograph in the brochure which accompanies the show is the last piece of the puzzle. A tent erected for a wedding party at the museum covers the portion of the building that is left blank in the artist’s work. Together these two images create a new whole. The shape on the wall becomes a vault guarding the memories of those who have passed through the museum.

 

 

 

 

“Hellan” by Haraldur Jónsson; photo courtesy of the artist.

Silent images, the rain, the places we visit, the silence of our dreams and memories. Each artist approached the subject of “silence” in their own unique way, but each of their works speaks volumes for those who are willing to listen.

The exhibition is on display until April 27.

I came by the exhibition of Ketill Larsen by chance; I actually didn’t know that there is a new exhibition at City Hall.

 At first I thought there were children’s pictures – the strokes were so wild and somewhat messy, the colours so fantastically bold. Then I noticed that composition is repeating itself over and over again in different colour palette. It looked like landscapes in different seasons – you can see the mountains and little houses here and there, the onion shaped roofs with crosses. Some of the drawings were inhabitant by whimsical, capricious, fantasy golden birds with long tales. The overall impression reminded me of folklore tales, naïve art.

 I went to the adjoining café and asked a bartender if he knew something about the artist. As happens so often in Iceland he not only knew the artist but was a friend of his. He told me that artist would be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.  While waiting, I Googled his name, Ketill Larsen. There was no mention of him on any of the art sites and the few sites that had his name were in Icelandic. All I gathered with my limited vocabulary of Icelandic was that he was born in Reykjavik, was in his late sixties, played the role of Santa Claus during Christmas celebrations, was an actor by education, worked with kids and had the peculiar habit of writing notes on his hand. A French journalist happened to sit nearby and during our brief interaction she mentioned that a documentary was shot of him by Joseph Marzolla and Tomas Lemarquis and it will open on the 16^th of March.

 

The artist came in. He was short and stout, with a high forehead and receding hairline, and he leaned heavily on a cane. His disheveled beard and apparent indifference to his own appearance seemed out of place or out of modern time, but his ancient eyes sparkled with lively curiosity and he obviously was in high spirits. As soon as we sat down for a talk at the table in his exhibition hall it became obvious how utterly unconventional he is. He kept breaking into little songs and stories of fantastic ships from outer space; it was close to impossible to get a straight answer even on such a straightforward question as when he was born. But along with this a certain magic started to appear – people kept coming in the hall, seemingly just to greet him. Everyone of them was joining us at the table and sharing their memories of Ketill Larsen, mentioning what a wonderful person he was, what a joy it was to be around him. Through their words a mystical figure started to emerge, a well-loved story teller; an eccentric artist; a person whose fantastic stories became indivisible from his own life. (In the following days I asked different people about Ketill, and every time a warm smile appeared on their faces with “Oh, Ketill” followed by yet another colourful story).

 

I steered conversation back to his drawings and found out that he started painting in his thirties without any formal training.  “The drawings just came to me. When time comes they  spill out of my hand. I can talk to you and draw; I can do anything and draw.” Through  the years he has had numerous exhibitions in Iceland and also shown his work in Denmark, Italy, the Faroese and Africa.  The magical landscapes are the staple of his of his work, the “tales from a different world” as he calls them.

 

 

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*This article first appeared at Iceland Review on-line on February, 18. (Photos courtesy of Kjarvalsstadir museum)

 

Imagine being born on a secluded island, which at the time of your birth counts no more than 120 people. Imagine growing up surrounded by endless water and bottomless sky in a remote fishing village. There, each journey to the ocean can easily turn into the last one, and life mainly consists of seeing off the fishermen and bidding farewell to those lost at sea. Imagine at the age of nine, due to your good singing voice, being made “Singer for the Dead.” Each time tragedy strikes, according to Faroese tradition, you place your hand on a dead person’s chest and sing, accompanying the dead on their last journey. Death is solidly woven into the pattern of everyday life.

The Kjarvalsstadir branch of the Reykjavík Art Museum is holding a retrospective exhibition of Sámal Joensen Mikines (1906-1979), the most important artist of the Faroe Islands. He was born on the isolated island of Mykines, the westernmost island of the archipelago, and became the first professional artist of his land and the first one to gain recognition abroad – a pioneer of the Faroese art scene.
 
The exhibition is divided into three main areas – a central hall is devoted to the themes of life and death, and halls to the right and left focus on specific genres, landscapes and portraits respectively.

Upon entering the main hall of the exhibition, you will immediately be drawn to two large canvases; both titled “Pilot Whale Killing.” They dominate the first hall much as whale hunting dominated life in Mykines. The dark figures in the boats, thrashing whales, blood-colored water and the orange glow of the sky create a threatening, battle-like atmosphere.

 

 

Pilot Whale Killing, 1944

As you turn slightly to the right you will see yet another painting with the same title and almost identical composition. This one, however, conveys a very different feeling. The bright yellow colors of the whale hunters’ clothes, the hue of the sky and the gleaming black T-shape of a whale’s tail give this painting a tone of joyful ritual, a celebration of life if you will.

Pilot Whale Killing, 1957

Going left through the central hall will bring you to the heart of the exhibition and the recurring theme of the artist’s work – death. You will see the most somber by palette and mood paintings. There is no movement in the darkened rooms; black silhouettes in the background dissolve into darkness; the stillness makes grief almost tangible. On the same wall, contrasting with the theme of death, “Faroese Dance” depicts a joyous celebration at the end of the whale hunting season. 

At the Death Bed, 1940

Faroese Dance, 1944

Faced with the circle of life and death you have to find a way of balancing them. For the artist, nature becomes the source of harmony. As you turn to the opposite wall, you will see several paintings projecting scenes of calm serenity, all of them with a similar motif – people and the sea.
 
“Ships Leaving Harbour,” with a woman looking at a far-away ship, is especially striking. The woman’s figure in a softly flowing dress is placed between the sky and the sea, symbolically uniting them. The ultramarine and brilliant green colors; the simplified, geometric outline of a cliff; the orange dot of the three-master sailing away just below the horizon – create a wonderfully tranquil scene.

Ships Leaving Harbour, 1937-1938

Passing into the next hall brings you to one of the artist’s favorite genres, the landscape. All the landscapes are inspired by his beloved Mykines. Mikines was so devoted to his island that he added its name to his surname and became known as Sámal Joensen Mikines. Even after settling in Copenhagen he returned to his island every summer and continued to paint it in different seasons and with different techniques. The vivid colors of Mykines are captured best in “Northern Wind” and “View from Mykines Islet.”

View from Mykines Islet, 1959

The landscapes include some interesting samples of an experimentation stage of the artist’s career. In “A House on Mykines Island” you will notice the clear influence of Modernism. Shortly after World War II, the Faroese art that was dominated by Mikines for more than 20 years experienced an explosion of new talented artists, who either returned to the islands after completing their studies in Denmark – like Ruth Smith or Janus Kamban – or chose the Faroes as a place to settle down, like Jack Kampmann. They all brought in new ideas, but Mikines was challenged most by Kampmann, with his interest in analytical Modernism. Mikines felt compelled to experiment with new techniques and modern structures in his paintings. In the words of the curator of the exhibition, Adalsteinn Ingólfsson, this period brought Mikines “to the verge of abstraction.”

A House on Mykines Island, 1950

The opposite hall of the exhibition contains a series of portraits. The careful observer will notice that in the bulk of his work, Mikines used the human form as a prop to convey an idea or emotion – the figures always simplified, the faces lacking distinct features. This is not the case with his portraits, which are quite detailed. His portraits have been highly acclaimed by critics; but I found his other work much more interesting.
 
Kjarvalsstadir Museum also holds a small exhibition of Nína Saemundsson (1892-1965), which brings you to a very different world of smooth, clean lines. Saemundsson was a pioneer too, the first professional Icelandic female sculptor. She spent most of her life abroad, but chose to return to Iceland at the age of 63. Though the artist’s sculpture “Maternal Love” has been a part of the Reykjavík landscape since 1930, Saemundsson is not very well known in Iceland. Unfortunately, the sculpture at Laekjargata in the city center is not only hard to spot, but also has the most unflattering backdrop of deconstructed buildings. However, you can enjoy a copy of the same sculpture at the exhibit. One of my favorite pieces here is “Bedouin Lady Praying,” which exudes spiritual peace and harmony. This small exhibition does not present a great variety of the artist’s work, but is a good start.

Mother Love, c. 1925; Photo: copyright Brooks Walker

Bedouin Lady Praying, c. 1924; Photo: copyright Brooks Walker

In 1926, Saemundsson won a competition for a piece for the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York. It is called “Spirit of Achievement” and captures the essence of an artist who wasn’t afraid to follow her calling at a time when not many women dared to do so.

Spirit of Achievement, 1926; Photo: copyright Dianne L. Durante, www.ForgottenDelights.com

Both exhibitions are on display until April 6.
 
www.artmuseum.is
Tel: (+354) 517-1290
Flókagata, 105 Reykjavík
Open daily 10 am to 5 pm
Free admission

* This article first appeared at Iceland Review on-line on January, 21, 2008.

Think, Listen, Feel: Recent Exhibitions in the Start Art Gallery

  While strolling along the main street of Reykjavík you inevitably notice a bright yellow triangle with a red border which reads “Start Art.” Start Art is an art gallery at Laugavegur 12b, but those words might also be a good motto for the city itself. Art in every form is welcome here—be it a little gnome placed in the rocks near a house, graffiti of tie-tying instructions on a wall, paintings, sculptures or the unusual design of a house. My impression is that the artist’s goal here is self-expression, the sharing of free flowing ideas, with gaining recognition and commercial success being secondary; a nice bonus. Since Iceland is a relatively young country, you encounter mostly contemporary art here.  What I find most appealing about it is its openness to interpretation. You are not led to a conclusion, but left to do your own thinking. Since there aren’t any rigid rules in contemporary art, there is no comparison, just free falling, liking or disliking. Through this the art serves the most authentic of its purposes—to open a person’s mind to something new, to stretch its limits.

“Start Art” – the logo of the gallery and motto of its artists. 

Start Art is a small, two-floor gallery that will be celebrating its first anniversary in March. It is a collaboration of six artists, whose styles are very different from each other, but who are united in their view of art as an ever-changing form, the door to unlimited possibilities. The most enchanting quality of Start Art is that there is no attempt to be grand; it is simple, humble and inviting. The gallery shows the works of its own artists as well as opening its doors to others.
 
Presently, there are two guest exhibitions in the gallery. There is an exhibition of Sigrid Valtingojer, a well-established Icelandic artist, best known for her prints. She has had solo exhibitions in Denmark, Japan, Spain and Italy, as well as many group exhibitions.  In the front hall you will see her “Palestinian” series.  The prints were inspired by the history and suffering of the Palestinian people. The focus of each print is the name of a Palestinian city or settlement. Some of them are well known: Jerusalem, Gaza, Bethlehem, Hebron; some are unfamiliar: Nablus, or Kafr Qasem, but each one of them has a tragic story to tell. 

 

“Kafr Qasem” by Sigrid Valtingojer.

The village of Kafr Qasem became the site of a massacre during the first days of the Sinai war, when 47 Arab villagers were shot as they returned home from work, unaware of a newly imposed curfew. Among the dead were women and children. The massacre and the trial that followed have become milestones in the national psyche of Israeli society; a reminder for soldiers and commanders alike that there is indeed a moral border one should abide by.
 
The names of the cities, drawn in wide uneven strokes, bring to mind tears for those who lost their lives; families driven from their own lands. Strokes of red remind us of war still going strong and blood still being shed.  In the words of the artist, “The media covers the Palestinian conflict often enough, but people are tired of listening to the news. I try to make them see the same issues from a different perspective; to attract their attention through my art.”
 
Two other halls on the same floor will show you a different series of her art work as well as an introduction to her different techniques. There are several paintings on glass with old prints used as background, exquisite black and white print, enriched with a poem, paper sculptures and drawings.
 
On the second floor you will encounter the most unusual exhibition of Elín Helena Evertsdóttir, titled “Pong”. It explores the concepts of space and time. The idea behind “Pong” is to create a real time experience for the audience with a minimum of material. Lasting three minutes and 40 seconds, the work consists of one sound that travels through the space between speakers situated alongside the wall.

 

Different Media by Thórdís Alda Sigurdardóttir.

The rest of the second floor holds the works of the artists who own the gallery. Bursting with flowers, the paintings of Thuríður Sigurdardóttir will cheer you up; the more earth-colored palette of Ása Ólafsdóttir’s works will fill you with warmth; and the interesting use of wax in the works of Thórdís Alda Sigurdardóttir will surprise you. When the gallery doesn’t host guest artist exhibits, the work of these artists is presented in greater variety and numbers, but even this display will give you a glimpse of their buzzing creativity.           

If you find yourself in downtown Reykjavík, tired of the crowds and window shopping, look for the Start Art gallery. The recent exhibitions will be on display through the 6th of February. The gallery keeps its doors open from 13:00 to 17:00 Tuesday to Saturday.
 
www.startart.is
Tel: +354 551 2306
Laugavegur 12b/ 101 Reykjavík
Free admission