When you hear it, it speaks slowly, telling you it's okay
SÍM Residency, Reykjavík, Iceland
This project picks up the thread from previous projects conceived in Finnmark and Bergen, working with objects in landscapes, as a performative action, and as a research project.
In recent years I have traveled closely with my sculptures, often carrying them in my arms instead of stuffing them in a suitcase. This means being forced to consider them every step of the way. Time spent with the objects is important, as well as bringing them out of the ‘comfort’ of the white cube.
I arrived in Iceland wanting to create new objects. We could explore new landscapes together and share new experiences while getting to know each other better. But unexpected feelings arose. Visiting my mother's home country alone and for the first time in many years, I found myself lodged in-between being a tourist, an artist and my identity as part Icelandic. I could understand the language, but not form sentences of my own. I blended in with masses of tourists, hurrying through to the next awe-inspiring site. As a performance artist I am used to drawing attention to myself, but this time I felt odd, displaced as I carried my brightly coloured friends from the city scape to the mossy landscapes.
As I worked with the objects, visiting sites, hiking, or simply just by holding them in my hands, I felt as though I slowly landed. We watched the sunset one evening when I thought about the uncertainty of finally arriving somewhere you have dreamed of for so long, and how we needed to embrace this uncertainty instead of fearing to be ignorant.
In a time of confusion it is good to have a friend, after all.
Writing one scentence a day, in response to a daily forecast from the astrology-app Co-Star
Presentation of the work in No Night for this Day
SÍM Galleri, Reykjavik, Iceland, July 2019