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THE HERRING MAILBlood Orange Sunset

Sunday 7th of June 2009: special edition Djupavik Daily

To read the article by our correspondent in the west-fjords Halldór Laxness turn to page 3

EDITORIALDanielle van Zuijlen

It started off with fun. A puzzle of 2000 pieces to be made in the gallery arrived with the post in Gallery Sign in Groningen. Nice metaphor for this project, I thought, while puzzling which living person I could seduce to actually put this thing together. The picture on the box showed blue skies, mountains and a little red house with white windows on an idyllic island in the sea. Close enough to what it must be like in Djupavik - the outpost in Iceland where Sign had sent six artists, with the ins-tructions to post their daily artistic efforts to The Netherlands. When I found out it was a Norwegian Fjord, the solution for the puzzle seemed easy – discard as irrelevant. Since that’s what I was commissioned to do: filter incoming post from the artists in Djupavik, and create meaning out of this ‘stream of information’. A Norwegian Fjord doesn’t necessarily help this process. But the comic that was sent via email, visualizing the artists in Djupavik working on a puzzle with palm trees in a cold and leaking Herring Factory, was provocative enough. And since half of the crew that constitutes Sign, i.e. Ron Rit-zerfeld, happened to have a past with puzzles, there was hope. Ron even showed a slight sign of disappointment when I sug-gested we could organize a daily tea & puzzle session, inviting old ladies and gentlemen into the gallery. A solution for all the other fragments that arrived in the gal-lery with the post, in beautiful parcels covered with stamps of exotic animals, plants and dead politicians, was less easily found. Six individuals in a remote place, huddled together in a small guest house, sending evidence of their attempts to get to grips with the unforgivingness of Nature. Maps and docu-ments of the place arrived: drawings, texts, letters, videos, the inevitable tourist photos, weather reports, ideas for approaches going in many different directions. Little things. It is strangely exciting and also a bit embarrassing suddenly having so much handcrafted post addressed to you by people you don’t know at all. Old-fashioned, recalling pre-internet memories of se-condary school. A similar generosity reaches me every day via the answering machine, where I find a message of today’s weather in Djupavik.

Unwrapping the first parcels was a feast (the highlight being a melted snowball with suggestions what could be done with it in the gallery) - the next steps turned out to be much more problematic. The delay in the post and limited possibilities for communication, as well as the sheer quantity and diver-ging status of the material (and consequently the time it takes only even to go through all this) made it impossible to get a ‘normal’ dialogue going between Sign and Djupavik. With the post taking ten days to arrive, I am reacting to decisions made weeks ago. The past weeks I have been witnessing starts of projects, work in progress of six different people, most of them, like myself, clearly struggling how to deal with the pa-rameters of this project.

to be continued on page 3

page 10

A candlelight vigil laun-ched in me-mory of the snow

Residency in Hawaii:Apply now!

page 24

The new sound of ...

‘Explaining Everything to Everybody’, invisi-ble text, drawings and drawing descriptions, Arna Ottarsdottir

‘Another Turn of the Screw’, a play by Aafke Weller and Adrien Tirtiaux

Documentation of installation, ‘A visual reso-nance’ , Sidsel Genee

‘My Land Art Attempts’, Adrien Tirtaux

‘there is a ball with a rugged surface...’, Aafke Weller

Photographs with text, remnants of aban-doned ideas, Emily Norton

‘The Imaginative Library’ , Aafke Weller

‘Have Art, Will Travel’, album reviews and photographs of folding chair/backpack with earbuds. Erla Silfa Hordvik Thorgrimsdottir

‚The Djupavik Collection’, products designed for the conditions particular to this experi-ence, Emily Norton

‘the reflection of sunlight…’, video still, Sidsel Genee

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Another turn of the screwa play in 7 acts by Aafke Weller and Adrien Tirtiaux

Act 1

Around the dinner table in Alfasteinn house

Architect: Still, I don’t think this building needs to contain an artwork of any kind.

Girl 2: Then, what would you suggest?

Architect: There is a staircase missing in the main space of the factory. I will design and build it; this would be my contribution to the space. You could consider it a part of the exhibition as you like.

Girl 1: That is very nice, the owners alread planned to build a staircase. You’d do them a favour.

Girl 2: [excited] It could function in other ways than just a staircase. We could integrate a stage and a place to store the mess lying around. We could use it as a small cinema... or as a bar!

Girl 1: It should be a flexible structure: one that gives access to the upper floors and could close them off just as easily.

7th JUNE 2009 3continued from frontpage----------------

I decided to make all the material equally accessib-le for visitors to the gallery, in the way I received it: unwrapped parcels, laid out on tables cut to the content of the parcel. I began photographing all the objects, archiving and coding them into a gro-wing and spread-out archive, trusting that at a cer-tain moment things would fall into place. The fact that all parcels and messages are addressed to me personally, makes the visitor who walks through the archive aware of my presence, as the person who apparently knows all about Djupavik. After three weeks I still have difficulties in painting a clear picture. The Inbox is full and will obviously keep filling now that the project in Djupavik is reaching its conclusion. Over here in Groningen, there is a week left for the final post from Dju-pavik to arrive, and for me to make sense. I have posted a little helper to Djupavik for the closing event on June 12th: a lotto machine that gives the power to what I will talk about to the public of that evening, back to the artists in Djupavik. They will draw the numbers for my guided tour through the archive of their material.

As this project moves forward, more and more instructions to build this and do that end up on my desk. I treat them like tennis balls. I find a person to direct the ball to, talk about it with en-thusiasm and let it take its course. Some things come back to the gallery, others don’t. In order to speed up the process, the puzzle of the Norwegi-an Fjord eventually traveled to ‘Grijs Genoegen’ (Grey enough / Grey delight), a local Salvation Army social club for oldies. When it came back with clear progress, there was extra motivation with both Ron and visitors to the gallery to keep going, and at the moment of writing there are just some open patches of the air left.

Danielle van Zuijlen, Ghent / Groningen, June 7th, 2009With many thanks to Ron Ritzerfeld and Marie Jeanne Ameln, staff of Sign, for all their support.

From our correspondent in the West-fjords, Halldór Laxness:

Jetzt hat die Regierung die Einfuhr und den Verkauf von anderen Früch-ten als getrockneten und gepressten Datteln aus Nigeria ohne Genehmi-gung des Ministeriums verboten: der Handel damit ist der Stockfischgesell-schaft gestattet (die Gesellschaft kennt das Leben). Leute, die an chronischer Unterernährung und Magenbeschwer-den leiden, können – jedoch nicht ohne Zustimmung des Gesundheits-ministers – die Bewilligung erhalten, wöchentlich eine Zitrone zu sich zu nehmen auf ärztliches Rezept, das sie gegen Empfangsbescheinigung des staatlichen Früchteburos abzugeben haben; Zitrone ist in Gegenwart von zeugen zu verzehren. Den Fuchsfar-men des Landes dabei besonderes dem neuen Nationaltier Islands, dem Mink, ist die Aufgabe yugedacht, die Valuta-schwierigkeiten des Landes yu losen.

________ continues on page 8

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CLIMBED DOWN, AND UP AGAIN, AND SAW INSIDE

7th JUNE 2009 5

CLIMBED UP AND LOOKED DOWN

THE TANK TRIALS May 22, 2009

Up until a few days ago I have avoided the tank, I felt it too obvious a space to enter, let alone utilize. However, as I tracked the movement of the smoke stack from the birds-eye view at the summit of the waterfall, and considered sundials, I noticed that the top of one of the tanks could act as the perfect planar surface for a sundial. After descending from the hill I climbed the exterior ladder of the tank to consider this concept. On top of the tank I found a portal, a square opening. I saw a stark geometric form cast in light along the curve of the interior tank wall. A skewed rectangle drew me down the ladder inside the tank. I wanted to follow its arc and track its transformations. The following morning I set up my tripod, and began this study. ½ hr increments between shots allowed enough time for the shape to shift and travel in distinctive frames. It became an exercise in searching for a semblance of schedule in this place where time has been washed out by light.

The weather broke, the sun came out and revealed the way Djupavik responds to light; how, when, and where it’s shadows are cast. I noticed the arc created by the silhouette stretching from the smoke stack as it moved over Djupavik throughout the course of the day. I realized it has the potential to act as the rod of a sundial on a grand scale. By using the sunlight in its direct relationship with this factory, as a means to mark and measure time itself, which has become confused without the darkness of night. I am not sure how this idea might develop and finally be realized, but the first step was gaining a bird’s eye-view of Djupavik. That view is possible from where the waterfall cascades off the cliffs behind the factory. Until today it has been impossible to reach that vantage point, due to too much snow, and strong winds. But today I scampered up the mountainside, in search of a new perspective on Djupavik, and the time that has become just a shadow here.

SMOKE STACK SUNDIALMay 14, 2009

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 2

Around the dinner table in Alfasteinn house

Architect: [presents his drawings to the girls] I designed this staircase: it is a single, compact volume, independent from the existing architecture. The main structure is made of the wooden beams we’ve been given. It contains both stairs they need, but they go up in two phases. Like this we create two extra platforms that allow you to consider the space from different angles.

Girl 2: I like the platforms; they can be used for many purposes. But why not use the column as a support? It is already in the space.

Girl 1: Why don’t you take the existing stairs as an example?

Architect: It is a contemporary gesture; it should work with and within the space as an autonomous object. You should not mimic the past but provide the solu- tions of the future with present means!

Girl 2: Isn’t that a bit arrogant…? You make it so self-contained…

Architect: The object is imposing, but as a separate entity it shows a lot of res- pect for the factory. On this drawing it looks massive, but it should work rather transparent, allowing the natu- ral light to pass through, creating sha- dow plays on the concrete...

Girl 2: That’s awesome! We could build to- gether…

[silence]

Girl 1: I don’t feel like being your assistant. You would merely exploit us girls for your own fame, that‘s such a cliché… so ugly… I really can’t stand that.

Girl 2: No, it is not about that. It is about doing something together, combining forces, making a gesture as a group…

THE EMPEROR‘S NEW CLOTHESBy H.C. Andersen Suggested by Sidsel Genee

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theatre or the chase, ex-cept for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, „he is sitting in council,“ it was always said of him, „The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe.“ Time passed merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns, the clo-thes manufactured from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character.„These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!“ thought the Emperor. „Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my realms are un-fit for their office, and also be able to distingu-ish the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately.“ And he caused lar-

ge sums of money to be given to both the wea-vers in order that they might begin their work directly. So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks; and then continued their pretended work at the empty looms until late at night.„I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth,“ said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufac-ture. To be sure, he thought he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would pre-fer sending somebody else, to bring him intelli-gence about the weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.„I will send my faithful old minister to the wea-vers,“ said the Emperor at last, after some de-liberation, „he will be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than he is.“

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7th JUNE 2009 7THERE IS A BALL WITH A RUGGED SURFACE OF WHICH ONLY THE UPPER PART CAN BE SEEN AS THOUGH CUT EXACTLY IN THE MIDDLE. THIS IS WHERE I START. AT THE VERY BOTTOM. THE LINE MOVES OVER THE BALL AFTER WHICH IT IMMEDIATELY CONTINUES ITS JOUR-NEY ASCENDING SLOWLY FOR A LENGTH JUST A LITTLE BIT LONGER THAN THE DIAMETER OF THE ROUND BALL. IT COMES TO A HALT AND STARTS CLIMBING VERTICALLY UNTIL IT REACHES A LEVEL TWICE THE HEIGHT OF THE BALL. A SLIGHT JUMP TO THE RIGHT AND IT GOES UP ALMOST HORIZONTALLY FOR A LENGTH THAT IS TWICE THE DIAMETER OF THE BALL. HERE IT MEETS THE BASE OF A SMALL SQUARE BLOCK. IT FOLDS ITSELF AROUND ITS EDGE AND MOVES OVER ITS SURFACE. WHERE IT SHOULD DESCENT TO COMPLETE THE SQUARE, IT CONTINUES STRAIGHT UP AT AN ANGLE OF 45º FOR A LENGTH THAT IS TWICE THE DISTANCE OF THE DIAGONAL INTERSECTION OF THE SQUARE BLOCK. HERE IT MEETS A SMALL SHAPE HALF THE SIZE OF THE BLOCK. IT IS A TRIANGLE TRYING TO BALANCE ON ONE OF ITS POINTS AND FALLING OVER TO THE RIGHT. THE LINE MOVES UPWARD AND SLIGHTLY BACKWARD AS IT TRACES THE LEFT SIDE OF THE TRIANGLE. THEN IT SLIDES DOWN ALONG ITS BASE AND HITS A WALL. NOW THE LINE MOVES UP ALMOST VERTICALLY WITH ONLY A SLIGHT IMBALANCE TO THE LEFT. FROM THE POINT WHERE IT GRACEFULLY CURVES TO CONTINUE IN A LIGHT UPSLOPE OF 35º, AN IMAGINARY LINE CAN BE DRAWN AT AN ANGLE OF 45º FROM THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE BALL FROM WHICH IT STARTED. STILL THE LINE IS MOVING UP AS THE BALL MOVES OUT OF SIGHT. IT PROCEEDS STEADILY WITH ONLY A MINOR RECESSION HALF WAY. WHEN IT HAS TRAVELLED TWICE THE DISTANCE OF ITS VER-TICAL ASCENT IT BENDS AND PROCEEDS ALMOST HORIZONTALLY. THEN A MILD SLIGHTLY CONVEX SLAB PUSHES THE LINE UPWARD. ASCENDING AND DESCENDING LINES MIRROR EACH OTHER IN A SLIGHTLY IMPERFECT SYMMETRY, THE LAST BEING SHORTER THAN THE FIRST. IT IS NOW AT THE BASE OF THE SLAB AND STILL ASCENDING SLOWLY AS IT MOVES AROUND A SMALL PYRAMID WHOSE BASE IS ONE AND A HALF TIMES ITS SIDE AND WHOSE TOP IS ONLY A LITTLE HIGHER THAN THE TOP OF THE CONVEX SLAB. IF THE BASE OF THE PYRAMID EQUALS ONE STEP [STEP], I WOULD NEED ANOTHER THREE STEPS UNTIL I REACH WHAT IS ALMOST AN EXACT COPY OF THE PYRAMID I LEFT BEHIND. THE LINE HAS BEEN ASCENDING ALL THE WAY AT A BARELY PERCEIVABLE ANGLE. ANOTHER THREE EASY STEPS AND THE LINE MEETS A SLAB THAT COULD JUST CONTAIN BOTH PYRAMIDS. IT SLIDES OF THE SLAB AND PROCEEDS UPWARD IN A PACE UNCHANGED FOR A LENGTH THREE TIMES THE GAP IT LEFT BETWEEN THE PYRAMIDS. I ABANDON MY EASY CLIMB AS THE LINE BENDS UP-WARD ABRUPTLY, SLIGHTLY TILTING OVER TO THE RIGHT AT AN ANGLE OF 85º. IT CONTINU-ES TO ROUGHLY DRAW WHAT LOOKS LIKE THE BOW OF A TANKER SHIP. I BOARD AND MOVE OVER ITS SURFACE FOR A LENGTH THAT IS AS LONG AS THE SHIP IS HIGH. THEN THE LINE CRAWLS UP UNEASILY OVER A RAGGED 45º-SLOPE FOR AN EQUAL DISTANCE. WHEN IT HAS REACHED ITS HIGHEST POINT THE LINE GOES DOWN MAKING ONE RAPID ZIGZAG LEAVING AN INDENT THE SHAPE AND SIZE OF THE LAST PYRAMID. IT THEN SLIDES DOWN A GENTLE SLOPE AT AN ANGLE OF 20º UNTIL IT REACHES THE LEVEL MARKED BY THE TOP OF THE IN-VERTED NEGATIVE OF THE PYRAMID. I NOW FIND MYSELF AT THE BOTTOM OF A CALM VAL-LEY. I PROCEED. THE LINE STILL GOES UP SLOWLY AND EASILY IN A SUBTLE CURVE. ON ITS HIGHEST POINT IT SHAPES A MESA, ITS BASE IS AS BROAD AS THE BASE OF THE PYRAMID. IT CONTINUES ITS CONCAVE CURVE UNTIL THE MESA IS EXACTLY IN THE MIDDLE, MEASURING THREE STEPS ON BOTH SIDES. THE LINE CARELESSLY JUMPS OVER A SMALL BUMP AND HITS A WALL, WHICH IS PUSHED SLIGHTLY TO THE RIGHT AT AN ANGLE OF 10º. IT MOVES UP AND JUST BEFORE IT REACHES ITS TOP, A SMALL SHARP TRIANGULAR BITE IS TAKEN OUT OF THE SOLID SHAPE JUST CREATED. PROCEEDING. THE LINE BENDS GOES UP FOR A LITTLE WHILE AND DESCENTS FOR ONE AND A HALF THE LENGTH OF ITS ROUTE UPWARD. A JUMP HALF THE HEIGHT OF THE LAST TOP AND I AM ON A SMALL PLATEAU. THE LINE ADVANCES HORIZONTALLY FOR ABOUT ONE AND A HALF THE LENGTH IT JUMPED UPWARD. HERE IT HOPS OVER A TINY CONE AND CONTINUES AN EQUAL DISTANCE ON A SLIGHTLY HIGHER LE-VEL. THE LINE NEATLY BENDS MAKING A STRAIGHT ANGLE AND CONTINUOUS IN A FAIRLY REGULAR ZIGZAG COURSE AT AN ANGLE OF 45º. WHEN IT REACHES THE THIRD AND HIGH-EST TERRACE IT ABANDONS ITS STEADY RHYTHM, ROLLS ONWARD HORIZONTALLY OVER TWICE THE LENGTH OF THE LOWER TERRACES. IT MOVES ON IN A STEADY SLOPE OF 45º FOR A LENGTH AS LONG AS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE FIRST AND THIRD TIP OF THE ZIGZAG’S STEPS [STAIR]. ASCENDING, I CAN SEE NOTHING BUT THIS WALL THAT AWAITS ME. IT MAKES AN ANGLE OF ABOUT 130º WITH THE STAIRS. I AM STANDING AT THE FOUNDATION OF THE WALL LOOKING UP. ITS ANGLE IS PERPENDICULAR TO THE HORIZON AND IT IS ABOUT ONE STAIR-LENGTH. I SCRAMBLE SKYWARD AND FOLD MY BODY OVER ITS EDGE. THE LINE PRO-CEEDS HORIZONTALLY UNTIL IT MEETS ANOTHER WALL. IN TWO STEPS IT HAS RENDERED A PERFECT SQUARE TRANSECTED DIAGONALLY. THE WALL I AM FACING NOW BENDS AWAY FROM ME AS THE LINE STARTS TRACING 7/12 OF THE CIRCUMFERENCE OF A CIRCLE. ITS DIA-METER IS ABOUT TWO STAIRS. IT RELENTLESSLY CONTINUES ITS JOURNEY UPWARD AT AN ANGLE OF 40º UNTIL IT REACHES THE LEVEL INDICATED BY THE TOP OF THE CIRCLE. HERE IT MOVES STRAIGHT UP AND BENDS, DRAFTING A DULL GOTHIC ARCH. THE DISTANCE FROM ITS BASE TO ITS POINT IS ONE AND A HALF STAIRS AT AN ANGLE OF 60º. FROM ITS POINT THE LINE BENDS DOWN BRIEFLY AND I SLIDE OFF IN A PUDDLE. I CLAMBER OUT OF THE PUDDLE ONTO A STEEP SLOPE THAT BENDS BACKWARD A LITTLE, BUT SHORTLY AFTER CON-TINUES PERFECTLY PERPENDICULAR TO THE HORIZONTAL. FINALLY REACHING THE TOP I AM ABLE TO JUST LOOK OVER THE SOLID SHAPE WITH THE TRIANGULAR BITE. THE VIEW EXPANDS. THE LINE CONTINUES IN A SMOOTH CURVE UPWARD WITH AN EASE SOON TO BE ABANDONED. IT REACHES A ROUNDED TOP FROM WHICH IT DESCENDS EASILY AND CONTI-NUES UPWARD AT A 45º-SLOPE UNTIL JUST BELOW THE POINT FROM WHICH IT SLID DOWN.

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 3

In the exhibition space of the factory

Girl 1: [pissed off] Did you really have to use all that wood? You don’t have a clue how expensive and sparse wood is here, do you?

Architect: Hey, what does one beam more or less matter when we build a staircase that will make them proud! Anyway, we can make the platforms and steps with old pallet wood.

Girl 2: Look how beautifully it fits both the space and their needs!

Girl 1: But the owners don‘t agree with you. They are furious. Why didn’t you show them your design before you started to build?

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Folglich haben diese sonderbaren Krea-turen das Vorrecht, unter sich alle Süd-früchte in Island yu teilen gemäß einer Quote, berechnet nach der Fressgier der Tiere und der Armut der Farmen (die armen bekommen am meisten). In den Zeitungen werden die Zweibei-ner aufgefordert, möglichst viel Rogen und Dorschleber yu essen, so dass auch sie dayu beitragen, das Land aus den Valutaschwierigkeiten yu retten. Es ist jetyt wissenschaftlich erwiesen, sagen alle Tagesyeitungen des Landes außer dem „Nordexpress“ in Djupvik, dass die Eingeweide von Fischen ebensoviel oder mehr Vitamin C enthalten als Südfrüch-te. Isländische Wissenschaftler haben jetyt, mit der Regierung als Paten, den Rogen umgetauft: er yoll jetyt „Zitronen de Meeres“ heißen.Der „Nordexpress“ befragte den Bey

irksaryt in Djupvik, ob die Berufung auf Wissenschaftler stimme, dass Zitronen des Meeres ebenso gesund oder gesün der seien als Zitronen, die in dem lande an Bäumen vvachsen, „vvo die Zitronen blühn, im dunklen Laub die G0ld0ran-gen glühn“. Der Atyt sagte, er habe kei-ne Zahlen n0ch andere Unterlagen bei der Hand, um das yu vviderlegen; die yurückgesetyten und sprachl0sen ZV-Veibeiner in Island Müßheit V0n den Behörden übermittelt VVird. Anderer-seits sagte den Beyirksaryt, er sei aus anderen Gründen „mehr dafür , dass es Nicht-Minken V0n der Art, die Islän-der genannt uuerden, erlaubt uuerden, Zitr0nen aus dem land yu essen, das in G0ethes Gedicht eruuähnt ist, und dass man Reineke und seinen Brüdern ih-rerseits erlauben s0lle, sich an den „Zit-r0nen des Meeres“ gütlich yu tun.

Architect: I thought they could envision the staircase better with its base struc- ture standing. I imagined them happily surprised.

Girl 1: You thought you could persuade them by confronting them with an accom- plished act?

Architect stares at the window, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Girl 1: They just want the simplest staircase, you know, like the ones already in the factory. Don’t you think that, as an architect, you should talk with people and work with their wishes? They know the space, they know what they want.

Architect lights a cigarette and starts a short lecture on 20th century architecture, focusing on the early post-modern attempts to involve the people in the conception of their buildings.

[silence]

Architect: Hum… The staircase actually fulfils all their wishes. They are just afraid be- cause it doesn’t match the form they had in mind.

Girl 2: We should have given them more time… They are driven by emotions rather than rational ideas about the function and quality of a space. They’re maybe more romantic… With a little more distance they might understand this proposal.

Girl 1: Isn’t it possible to make a compromi- se? To make a simple structure that answers to their wishes and is still an interesting object in and of itself.

7th JUNE 2009 9

FACEBOXÞetta er ljóð (2009)myspace.com/facebookIdentity and communication

A) Að fara í pottinn og hitta fólk og spjalla aðeins. Einkapottur. Eintal? Tvítal?

B) Verum nú endilega i bandi. Ég veit helling um þig, en samt ekki neitt. Hver ert þú þarna hinum meginn? Ég er allir þeir sem ég vil vera þegar ég er ein. Communication breakdown með Led Zeppelin. Erum við að tala saman? Lest-sérð-heyrir þú nákvæmlega það sama og ég heyri-sé-les?

Have Love, Will TravelPink Love (2009)myspace.com/DoYouLoveMeNow?Love Me, And you love it

Have Love, Will Travel

True love will find you in the endDead In Love

Wear Your Love Like HeavenNot About LoveTo Your Love

Love RiddenYour Love Is MineGloves

Love Is A DeserterI Hate The Way You LoveI Hate The Way You Love

The Youngest Was The Most Loved

Forced Love

I Love YouDo You Love Me

Don’t Think Twice (Love)Fell in love with a girl

Female Rock VocalFist/fish fucker (2009)myspace.com/itsmellslikecoldfishNeither fish nor fowl nor good red herring

Why sleep when you can draw?Twilight

She drinks like a fish

A good place to sleepDjúpavík=Lullaby=Sleeping beauty

Drink my blood, drain me, let me sleep 4 ever? Your blood in mine

Spirituality

Don’t you contemporary art me!

Art is strange and then you die etc.

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Borges, Jorge Luis, De Aleph.Lynch, David, Catching the Big Fish, London 2006.Schmidt, Annie M.G., Pluk van de Petteflat, Amsterdam 2003.Hoffman, Werner (ed.), William Turner und die Landschaft seiner zeit, München 1976.Safranski, Rudiger, Hoeveel waarheid heeft de mens nodig?, Amsterdam 1992.Alberts, A. De Eilanden, Amsterdam 1952.Barthes, Roland, Mythologieën(synopsis), Amsterdam 1975.Herrmann, Luke, Turner, London 1975.Ruskin, John, The argument of the Eye, Princeton 1976.Wilton, Andrew, The life and work of J.M.W. Turner, London 1979.Calvino, Italo, Palomar, Amsterdam 1985.Calvino, Italo, Marcovaldo, Amsterdam 1992.Cromheecke & Letzer, Tom Carbone 2: Mise en Boîte, België 1992.Matsier, Nicolaas, Gesloten huis, Amsterdam 1994.Schama, Simon, Landscape & Memory, London 1995.Roobaard, Joke, Folders, Suits, Pockets, Files, Stocks, Amsterdam/Vienna 2003.Heidegger, Martin, Zijn en tijd, Nijmegen 1998.Meyer, Imke & Michael, Waarom is de hemel blauw? Antwoorden op kindervragen, Nijkerk 1986.Schmidt, Annie M.G., Pluk van de Petteflat, Amsterdam 2003.Brouwn, Stanley, a distance of 336 steps, Amsterdam 2000.Brouwn, Stanley, a distance of 2232 ells, Amsterdam 2000.Brouwn, Stanley, a distance of 2444601 feet, Amsterdam 2000.

7th JUNE 2009 137th JUNE 2009 13

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 4

At the dinner table in Alfasteinn. The Architect takes a sketch out of his pocket and carelessly throws it on the table.

Architect: It would be less interesting in the space, but we could build the stairs they want using our abandoned structure. We would use our first attempt in a constructive manner. It would spare wood and energy and finish what we started.

Girl 1: [looks at the sketch and smiles] I’m impressed. I thought you didn’t want any compromise.

Architect: I told them I would do a staircase, so I will do it. But I don’t want to take the credit.

Girl 1: [curls her lips sardonically] That might finally give us some space…

The evening passes peacefully as the Architect and the Girls finish the last beer and enjoy themselves in the refreshing water of the fjord.

Continued from page 6 ---------So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the knaves were working with all their might, at their empty looms. „What can be the meaning of this?“ thought the old man, opening his eyes very wide. „I cannot discover the least bit of the read on the looms.“ However, he did not express his thoughts aloud.The impostors requested him very courteously to be so good as to come nearer their looms; and then asked him whether the design pleased him, and whether the colors were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to the empty frames. The poor old minister looked and looked, he could not discover anything on the looms, for a very good reason, viz: there was nothing there. „What!“ thought he again. „Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never thought so mys-elf; and no one must know it now if I am so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see the stuff.“„Well, Sir Minister!“ said one of the knaves,

„Well, Sir Minister!“ said one of the knaves, still pretending to work. „You do not say whether the stuff pleases you.“ „Oh, it is excellent!“ replied the old minister, loo-king at the loom through his spectacles. „This pattern, and the colors, yes, I will tell the Em-peror without delay, how very beautiful I think them.“„We shall be much obliged to you,“ said the impostors, and then they named the different colors and described the pattern of the preten-ded stuff. The old minister listened attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat them to the Emperor; and then the knaves asked for more silk and gold, saying that it was necessary to complete what they had begun. However, they put all that was given them into their knapsacks; and continued to work with as much apparent diligence as before at their empty looms.

---------Continued on page 21

14 THE HERRING MAIL

7th JUNE 2009 15

16 THE HERRING MAIL

The drawing started out with some triangle shapes and patterns, drawn on a rather thin and delicate white paper with a black pen that bleeds a little. A few more triang-les were added beside the other ones. Then another below, with a face of a boy inside it, looking quite unhappy and with black around him. These triangle shapes grew into some kind of a three dimensional form. Maybe it’s a building, but a very abstract one, impossible even. The building has some white walls and a roof with diamond shapes on it, in black and white. On a slanting plane beside the roof there are some small, short lines. Maybe it’s fur, but it could also be grass (some things are so similar). On the other side, beside the building there are also small lines but they look more like a hairy shadow growing out of the wall. Down from the house grow some lines that form a tube. It’s white and goes down from one triangle up to another abstract three dimensional form. That one also has a hairy shadow on a small part of one side and some black triangle shapes on top of it, making it more two dimensional than three. The tube then connects with something that might be a lump of hair or a ball of yarn. It’s hard to say. Beside that and above the black triangles are three diamond shapes, one white, the other black and then again a white one. On the tube there are three black circles, with almost an even space between them. Beneath them the tube lies on a wall or a square with the same black and white diamond pattern as on the roof of the building above. The wall grows into three towers each with a roof with one black side. A hand is touching the walls of the towers, a hand that belongs to an arm that belongs to a boy. The other hand of the boy is touching the roof of the buil-ding but it’s see-through so you can see the pattern of it quite clearly. That arm is also a little shorter than the other one, it’s not the good arm. The boy has blonde hair. He has quite small ears and big eyebrows. You can’t see his lower lip, he might be biting it or it might not be there at all. He seems worried in a quiet, hopeless way. His shirt is white with buttons placed close to each other. On his shirt it says “no no” in Icelandic and above it there is a flower shape which has been crossed over.

7th JUNE 2009 17

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 5

The Girls and the Architect just returned from the factory where they made a start with the transforma-tion of the structure. They sit at the table staring at their teacups.

Girl 1: I really thought this was the staircase they wanted. It was such a good com- promise.

Girl 2: I have never seen somebody that angry…

Girl 1: What does it matter if the staircase goes in one direction or another?

Architect: [agitated] We try to help them and the only thing we get back is this outrage.

[silence]

Girl 1: There must have been some sort of misunderstanding.

Girl 2: What shall we do? Dismantle again? There really is no more space for another compromise…

Architect: [really upset] I don’t want to have anything to do with this anymore. I’ve lost enough of my time. If they want to destroy their space with a dumb staircase, they are on their own.

Girl 1: So, you would run away from your responsibility having wasted all their wood.

Architect: Fuck you, I’ve had enough of your preaching.

[silence]

Girl 2: All this effort and we have nothing to show. [pause]

Girl 1 and Girl 2 [together]: If only we could turn back time…

18 THE HERRING MAIL

On one of my many timed visits to the tank on May 21st I expected to find an empty tank, but instead I met a small boy, Birnir, he was diligently and delicately constructing a city with scraps found around the tank. His attention to this process was beautiful. I couldn’t help but ask if I could play. He only spoke Icelandic, and I English, but we found ways to share our discoveries, and ideas about which direction our mini metropolis should grow in. Over the course of the next couple of days we met to collect more materials around the factory and beach, as we had exhausted the resources inside the tank. Our system of roads, bridges, and islands expanded. He went home today, and when I went back into the tank to keep working this afternoon, I found my energy deflated. It’s no fun to build alone. The little boy broke right through the barriers I have felt about adding anything to this place. He did it naturally and honestly., I felt comfortable joining and would some how like to extend that collaborative process to SIGN, possibly in a dialogue through drawing, I am sending you this drawing/map of the installation in the tank.

TANK INSTALLATIONMay 24, 2009

7th JUNE 2009 19MEASURED IN ALIGNMENT WITH THE HORIZONTAL I TRAVELLED A DISTANCE OF TWO AND A HALF STAIRS. AGAIN SLIDING DOWN A GENTLER SLOPE, DRAFTING A PYRAMID WHOSE RIGHT SIDE IS SOMEWHAT LONGER AND LESS STEEP. I AM AT THE RIGHT BASE OF THE PYRAMID. I START CLIMBING A STEEP SLOPE THAT SLOWLY CURVES INWARD TO LEAVE SPACE FOR THE RIGHT HALF OF A SHARPENED ELLIPSE. ITS TOP HOVERS ABOVE ITS BASE AND MAKES AN IMAGINARY LINE AT AN ANGLE OF 60º WITH THE TOP OF THE PYRAMID. THEN THERE IS A RIDGE, BUT NO PLACE TO REST, FOR THE LINE NOW MOVES ON VERTICALLY, BENDS AGAIN AND CONTINUES WITH RIGOUR, EXTENDING THE LINE IT INITIATED IN DRAFTING THE PYRAMID. I CONTINUE MY ARDUOUS AS-CENT: FIRST ALONG THE STEEP SLOPE FOR A LENGTH AS LONG AS HALF THE CONCAVITY UPWARD AND ONTO A VERTICAL SLOPE OF ONE THIRD OF THIS CONCAVITY. THEN THERE IS A SHORT PAUSE AS I MOVE ALONG A MORE GENTLE SLOPE AT AN ANGLE OF ONLY 40º OVER TWICE THE LENGTH OF MY VERTICAL ASCENT. THE LINE HOWEVER IS DETERMINED TO REACH ITS HIGHER GOAL AS ANOTHER STEEP UPSLOPE DENIES ME MY VIEW. I CLAMBER SKYWARD AT AN 80º-ANGLE UNTIL I REACH A HONED TOP. FROM HERE AN IMAGINARY LINE CAN BE DRAWN AT AN ANGLE OF 45º FROM THE SOLID SHAPE OUT OF WHICH A TRIANGULAR BITE IS TAKEN. I AM STANDING ON THE TOP OF A SMALLER PYRAMID FROM WHICH, IN ONE EASY LEAP, I DESCENT ONTO A SLIGHT-LY CONCAVE TERRACE, CURVING IN A CALM AND UNHURRIED BOW OVER TWO AND A HALF STAIR-LENGTH. IT CONTINUES IN AN UPWARD BOW, BUT IT DOES NOT COMPLETELY FINISH ITS ARCH, FOR HALF WAY DOWN IT IS INTERRUPTED BY A BOLD STANDING OBSTRUCTION. IT IS A PERFECT QUARTER SEGMENT OF AN ELLIPSE. I STAND FACING ITS TALLEST SIDE AS IT CURVES AWAY FROM ME. THE LINE CAREFULLY RENDERS ITS SHAPE. ITS TOP IS AS HIGH AS TWO THIRD OF THE LENGTH OF THE TERRACE. THE LINE CONTINUES STRAIGHT UP AS IT DRAFTS WHAT COULD BECOME AN EXACT COPY OF THE ELLIPSE, IT STARTS TO DEVIATE HOWEVER, AS IT APPROACHES THE TOP. IT CONTINUES VERTICALLY UNTIL IT REACHES A POINT FROM WHICH A LINE CAN BE DRAWN AT EXACTLY 45º FROM THE HONED PYRAMID. THE LINE CURVES BACKWARD AS IT SHAPES A THIRD OF AN ORANGE WEDGE AS THOUGH IT WERE A BALCONY ON A ROUNDED SUPPORT. I CLIMB ON THE BALCONY AND MOVE INSIDE AN INDENT THAT IS LIKE A MOUTH OPENED IN WONDER. HAVING DRAWN THE UPPER LIP, THE LINE CONTINUES STRAIGHT UP AT AN ANGLE OF 60º, REACHING A VERTIGINOUS HEIGHT ON THE TIP OF A DELI-CATE NOSE. SLIDING ALONG ITS BRIDGE THE LINE MOVES DOWN AGAIN TRACING AN ELEGANT CURVE, LEA-VING A PERFECT IMPRINT OF AN ELONGATED ELLIPSE WITH THE TOPMOST SEGMENT OF A CIRCLE CAREFULLY PLACED AT TWO THIRD OF ITS LENGTH: AN OPEN EYE GAZING AT THE SKY. AT THE END OF THE ELLIPSE I AM ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THE VERTIGINOUS VIEWPOINT. THE LINE PROCEEDS UPWARD AND DELINEATES THE SPIFF BANG OF A YOUNG GIRL AS IT CURVES UP AND DESCENTS IN A GENTLY ROUNDED QUARTER ELLIPSE. THE LINE NOW SHAPES A PERFECTLY ROUND PUDDLE, ASCENDS PERPENDICULARLY, FOLDS ITSELF OVER THE RIDGE OF A SMALL SQUARE, MOVES OVER ITS SURFACE, BENDS STRAIGHT UP AND AFTER A DISTANCE EQUAL TO THE SIDE OF THE SQUARE, CONTINUES HORIZONTALLY. I AM STEADILY GOING UP AT AN ANGLE OF ABOUT 20º. FOR AS FAR AS I CAN SEE THE LINE WILL RISE IN A REGULAR SLOPE. ITS ROUTE, HOWEVER, IS RAGGED. IT RISES UP A PYRAMID, WHOSE GRADIENTS COME FAIRLY CLOSE TO ITS EGYPTIAN PROTOTYPE. THEN HALFWAY DOWN, SHORTLY STRAIGHT UP. IT MOUNTS A PLATFORM AS LONG AS THE PRECEDING ONE. ANOTHER JUMP TWICE THE HEIGHT OF THE PLATFORM AND CURVES OVER A SMALL ROUND THAT MERGES INTO A SEGMENT OF A LARGER ONE, COVERING ONE AND A HALF TIMES THE LENGTH OF THE PLATFORM. ONE STEP DOWN AND UP AGAIN AT A CONTINUOUS ANGLE OF 45º, MEASURING ONE AND A HALF TIMES THE LAST PLATFORM. ANOTHER BUMP THAT COULD CONTAIN BOTH THE ROUND AND THE SEGMENT, AFTER WHICH IT MOVES LEISURELY ONWARD, ALMOST HORIZONTALLY, THOUGH SLIGHTLY TILTING UPWARD FOR THE SAME DISTANCE AS OUR PREVIOUS 45º-ANGLE. THEN IT REPEATS ITSELF AS AGAIN IT HAS ME MOVE UP A SLOPE AND CONTINUES ON AN ALMOST HORIZONTAL PLANE. I AM ON A SECOND TERRACE THAT IS SLIGHTLY LONGER. I HOP ON A WELL CUT RECTANGULAR SLAB, ITS LENGTH BEING TWICE ITS HEIGHT, HOP OFF AND PROCEED ON THE SLIGHT SLOPE OF THE TERRACE FOR AS LONG AS THE RECTANGULAR WAS WIDE. I QUICKLY JUMP ON A TABLET FUNCTIONING AS A THRESHOLD TO THE UPPER SEGMENT OF A CIRCLE WITH A DIAMETER THAT IS ABOUT AS BROAD AS THE LENGTH OF THE RECT-ANGLE. THE LINE CONTINUES AT THE SAME PACE FOR A LENGTH AS LONG AS THE DIAMETER OF THE SEGMENT AND ITS DOORSTEP. AGAIN A SEGMENT OF A CIRCLE FOLLOWED BY AN EVEN PASTURE OF A FAIR LENGTH TWO TIMES THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE RECTANGULAR SLAB AND THE BISECTED BALL THAT NOW RESEMBLES THE SUN IN ITS EARLIEST HOUR, RISING ABOVE AN EVEN HORIZON. I WALK TO THE VERGE OF THE PASTURE. FROM HERE IT IS UP, UP, UP AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE. THE LINE ASCENDS AT A CONSISTENT 25º-ANGLE.

20 THE HERRING MAIL

7th JUNE 2009 21Continued from page 14------------

The Emperor now sent another officer of his court to see how the men were getting on, and to ascertain whether the cloth would soon be ready. It was just the same with this gentleman as with the minister; he sur-veyed the looms on all sides, but could see nothing at all but the empty frames.„Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did to my lord the minister?“ asked the impostors of the Emperor‘s second am-bassador; at the same time making the same gestures as before, and talking of the design and colors which were not there.„I certainly am not stupid!“ thought the messenger. „It must be, that I am not fit for my good, profitable office! That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything about it.“ And accordingly he praised the stuff he could not see, and declared that he was de-lighted with both colors and patterns. „In-deed, please your Imperial Majesty,“ said he to his sovereign when he returned, „the cloth which the weavers are preparing is extraordinarily magnificent.“The whole city was talking of the splendid cloth which the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own expense.And now the Emperor himself wished to see the costly manufacture, while it was still in the loom. Accompanied by a select number of officers of the court, among whom were the two honest men who had already admi-red the cloth, he went to the crafty impos-tors, who, as soon as they were aware of the Emperor‘s approach, went on working more diligently than ever; although they still did not pass a single thread through the looms.„Is not the work absolutely magnificent?“ said the two officers of the crown, already mentioned. „If your Majesty will only be ple-ased to look at it! What a splendid design! What glorious colors!“ and at the same time they pointed to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.„How is this?“ said the Emperor to himself. „I can see nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor? That would be the worst thing that could happen--Oh! the cloth is charming,“ said he, aloud. „It has my com-plete approbation.“ And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty looms; for on no account would he say that hecould not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much. All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to disco-ver something on the looms, but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed, „Oh, how beautiful!“ and advised his majesty to have some new clo-thes made from this splendid material, for the approaching procession. „Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!“ resounded on all si-des; and everyone was uncommonly gay. The Emperor shared in the general satis-faction; and presented the impostors with the riband of an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes, and the title of „Gentlemen Weavers.“

---------Continued on page 22

Continued from page 21----------

The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the procession was to take place, and had six-teen lights burning, so that everyone might see how an-xious they were to finish the Emperor‘s new suit. They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with their scissors; and sewed with needles without any th-read in them. „See!“ cried they, at last. „The Emperor‘s new clothes are ready!“And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying, „Here are your Majesty‘s trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is the mantle! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.“„Yes indeed!“ said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.„If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front of the looking glass.“The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the Em-peror turning round, from side to side, before the loo-king glass.„How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!“ everyone cried out. „What a design! What colors! These are indeed royal robes!“„The canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting,“ announced the chief master of the ceremonies.„I am quite ready,“ answered the Emperor. „Do my new clothes fit well?“ asked he, turning himself round again before the looking glass, in order that he might appear to be examining his handsome suit. The lords of the bedchamber, who were to carry his Majesty‘s train felt about on the ground, as if they were lifting up the ends of the mantle; and pretended to be carrying something; for they would by no means betray anything like simp-licity, or unfitness for their office.So now the Emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital; and all the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, „Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor‘s new clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the mantle; and how gracefully the scarf hangs!“ in short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his office. Certainly, none of the Emperor‘s various suits, had ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones. „But the Emperor has nothing at all on!“ said a little child. „Listen to the voice of innocence!“ exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another. „But he has nothing at all on!“ at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the pro-cession must go on now! And the lords of the bedcham-ber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold.

22 THE HERRING MAIL

This is a drawing of a boy with black shiny hair and black eyes (that look like holes). His mouth is big and he is biting his right hand. It is also quite big. Maybe it’s because he’s worried or stuck someplace he doesn’t want to be. Beside his left ear you can see a triangle but it has been painted over with white. He’s wearing a sweatshirt. With his left hand he holds a building close to his hips, it’s a square building with windows and a door and on top of it there are triangle shapes with one side black and the other one white. Beside the boy with the black hair there’s a boy (or a girl, you can’t tell maybe), standing on a chair, whispering into the boy’s ear. But you can’t see the whisperers face because there are small lines drawn over it, forming a mass (a loose mass) of hair or grass. And it’s growing from the black-haired boy’s ear.

TIMES THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE RECTANGULAR SLAB AND THE BISECTED BALL THAT NOW RESEMBLES THE SUN IN ITS EARLIEST HOUR, RISING ABOVE AN EVEN HORIZON. I WALK TO THE VERGE OF THE PASTURE. FROM HERE IT IS UP, UP, UP AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE. THE LINE ASCENDS AT A CONSISTENT 25º-ANGLE. IT STARTS HESITANTLY AS ITS ROUTE IS SOMEWHAT WAVERING. STUMBLING OVER SMALL OBSTACLES FOR A DISTANCE AS FAR AS THE LENGTH OF THE PASTURE IT MEETS THE UPPER HALF OF A PERFECT CIRCLE WITH A DIAMETER THAT IS SOME-WHAT LONGER THAN THE BASE OF THE CIRCLE RESEMBLING THE SUN. IT ROLLS OVER SMOOTHLY AND DESCENTS A MILD RAMP. METHODICALLY FOLLOWING THE TRACK IT SET OUT FOR ITSELF IT MOVES TOWARDS A SMALLER VERSION OF THE PERFECT HALF CIRCLE. THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE TWO IS EQUALS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE VERGE OF THE PASTURE AND THE FIRST PER-FECT HALF [PASTURE]. AFTER IT HAS COVERED THREE PASTURES A TRIANGULAR OBSTRUCTION STANDS IN ITS STEADFAST CLIMB. THE LINE MAKES A DETOUR: IT CLIMBS UP VERTICALLY FOR A LENGTH THAT IS HALF THE DIAMETER OF THE BIGGER OF THE TWO PERFECT HALF CIRCLES. DOWN AGAIN, IN AN EASY DESCENT AT AN ANGLE OF 45º. IT TIRELESSLY CONTINUES UPWARD FOR ONE MORE PASTURE. HERE IT FINDS A CONGLOMERATE OF THREE PYRAMIDS. TOGETHER THEY MEASURE TWICE THE BASE OF THE TRIANGULAR OBSTRUCTION. THE LINE GOES UP PER-PENDICULAR FOR HALF A STEP THEN BENDS IN A SQUARED ANGLE AND AFTER ANOTHER HALF A STEP IT BENDS AGAIN AND MOVES UP AN EQUAL LENGTH. I AM STANDING ON THE HIGHEST POINT OF WHAT LOOKS LIKE A SMALL DESERT CITY. I DESCEND GLIDING IN A SHALLOW BOWL. THE LINE DRAWN FROM BRIM TO BRIM RUNS PARALLEL TO THE SLOPE. STANDING ON ITS FUR-THEST BRIM I AM ON TOP OF THE CITIES WALL. WHEN MEASURED FROM THE HORIZONTAL, THE

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 6

Back in the exhibition room at the factory. Girl 2 and architect look upon their artwork and are very pleased with themselves.

Girl 2: So minimal, yet so rich in content.

Architect: Maybe we shift it another 5 cm to the left... It would start a more interesting dialog with the rhythm of the columns.

Girl 2: I wonder if we shouldn’t have used the grey gaffer tape…

Girl 1 enters the factory space very upset, holding an empty box

Girl 1: [raging] You went too far now! What were you thinking? Where did you find the screws you used? I can’t believe you entered his personal workshop... Have you no respect for their terri- tory?

[silence]

Girl 1: [defeated] They will never trust us now…

[silence]

Architect: [resigned] They didn’t trust us from the start. What a hopeless cause, all this effort in vain.

And this is in no way constructive. [half-heartedly kicks his sculpture]

Girl 2: You told me those were our screws. You Asshole, you lied to me.

Architect: You can’t even distinguish a screw from a nail.

Girl 1: But we can distinguish right from wrong.

Girl 2: Oh shut up, cunt.

Girl 2 leaves the space

Girl 1: Satisfied?

Girl 1 leaves the space

Architect all alone in the space.

7th JUNE 2009 23

Call for applicationsWAITING FOR WHALESGallery NIGS, Reykjavik

The Kaho’olawe whaling industry, figurehead of the Hawaii’s most dy-namic industry, once made the fishery sector green with envy. Today the redundant property, wounded in its pride, grimly braves the burning Pacific sun. Factory workers and fishermen turned their backs to the island a long time ago and since then the Pacific Ocean has taken it into possession. At the end of April 2010 an international group of six visual artists will be travelling to this remote corner of the world. In solitude and extreme conditions they will try to work and conduct an artistic survey of the typical historic, geographic and ecological conditions on this deserted part of the archipelago.

Parallel to the working period in Kaho’olawe, a documentation centre in the Reykjavik gallery NIGS will monitor the artists as they learn to adjust to the extreme conditions on the island. In the early days of the Hawaiian summer, temperature rarely drops below 30º C, sandy beaches, mild sea wind and regular, refreshing showers in the early eve-ning will make work an almost impossible undertaking. The dilapidated concrete property of the former whale-processing factory will provide ample opportunities to hang your hammock [provided by the gallery] in its cooling shade. The artists are challenged to send at least one work to the gallery situa-ted in downtown Reykjavik. During the whole working period a curator (to be decided) in waiting will be on display. Visitors will have the oppor-tunity to question, complement and respond to the curator daily.

NIGS is looking for six artists who are willing to take this challenge. The residency is to start on the first of May 2010 and will end with a closing ceremony in the gallery the 15th of June 2010. For each resident the gallery will provide a bounty of food, travel expenses and a hammock. Your application should include a letter of motivation (max. 500 words), a portfolio in 20 slides (PDF) and your CV. Selections will be made pri-marily based on your motivation. Application deadline: August 30, 2009. More information on the residency programme you can find on our web-site: www.NIGS2.is

Another Turn of the ScrewAct 7

Performed June 7th 2009 at the Djupavik Herring Factory.

Girl1 played by: Aafke WellerGirl2 played by: Adrien Tirtiaux Architect played by: Emily Norton

the reflection of sunlight that comes through a hole in the roof and shines upon the shallow water where a sheet of ice is floating as a drop of water hits the surface. Observed by Sidsel Genee.+

24 THE HERRING MAIL

CREDITS //// Many, many special thanks to Eva and Ási, the owners of the Herring factory and Hó-tel Djúpavík, for your hospitality, help, patience, friendlyness and most of all your “hjerterum” throug-hout the whole project. Without your support, we would not have been able to realize this exhibition.Special thanks to Marie Jeanne and Ron in SIGN, for your optimism and trust in this project and for taking care of all logistics. Special thanks to: Claus in Island for letting us stay at your place in Reykjavik, for helping us set up a communication center and store about 250 kilos of groceries in your bedroom. Thanks you Claus, for being a great support in general. Thank you, Gudmundur Thoroddsen (Mummi) for your contribution to this project, bringing us to the airport in Reykjavik, bringing us beer halfways through the project and, last but not least, for driving us to the swimmingpool in Krossnes. Thank you, Sunneva and Birnir for your inspiration and wonderful contribution to the Djúpavík Dreaming puzzle. Thanks also to Badda for picking us up at Gjögur Airport. And Bernt, for cooking and put-ting up an efficient wiring system in the exhibition space. Thanks to Arna‘s parents for bringing screws, cookies, and cigarettes – supplies necessary for the completion of the project. Thanks to John Miller from New York, for posting our mail in Chelsea. The two happy, handsome hikers from Zwolle, for posting our mail in The Netherlands. Thanks, Marcel Imthorn for building the spring waterfall at SIGN for Adrien. Thanks also go to the members of Grijs Genoe-gen for puzzling! Special thanks to Noor Nuyten for sending “een verrassing, iets lekkers en iets om mee te spelen”. Thanks to Franzi for sending delicious Belgian chocolate and her encouragement. Roy, for the world. And thank to everybody that contributed to the Imaginative Library in SIGN: Oleg, Leja, David, Arjen, Bouke, Adrien, Sidsel, Corrie, Noor, Danielle, Marijke, Dorothee en Roy. Thanks also to other more transcendental elements that helped us through the project: David Lynch („where we come from the birds sing pretty songs“) and Brian Eno (oblique strategies).

This publication is a result of the Inbox/Outpost pro-ject - a site-specific and process-oriented project that gradually evolved on two locations: an out of use her-ring factory in Djúpavík in the very North of Iceland and in SIGN, a project space in Groningen, the Nether-lands. Both locations have been closely connected for a period of one month, during which an international group of six artists from various disciplines have been exploring the ecological, architectural, social and cul-tural environment of the factory. Their research was an investigation into a possible work in situ; a work that is inextricably bound to the specific situation in an outpost in the very North of Iceland.The results of the project are exhibited in the herring factory in Djúpavík from the 7th of June till the 15th of July. Inbox/Outpost was initiated by the artists Aafke Weller and Sidsel Genee, organized and developed in collabo-ration with SIGN in Groningen, The Netherlands.

The other participating artists:Arna Óttarsdóttir (IS)Emily Tamzen Norton (US)Adrien Tirtiaux (BE)Erla Silfá Hordvik Thorgrímsdóttir (IS)Archivist/ liaison artist in SIGN, Groningen:Daniëlle van Zuijlen

Further inquiries about this publication and the project can be directed to [email protected] or have a look at: www.inboxoutpost.in / www.djupavik.com / www.sign2.nl