Once more, the spatial arrangements seem to have settled; a node. A steady stream of visitors – human and canine – resulting in a day with few photos, tiny adjustments only, suggestions not fully realized… but also, shared observations, reminiscences, recognitions… And, yes: a spontaneous performance by Mireia Rocher – creating friction, sound and warmth by drawing an invisible line around the walls with a slip of sandpaper. A powerful act of artistic courage and love; a conceptualization; a protective spell. Thank you Mireia! Thank you, all friendly souls from nearby and afar!
A lingering note from yesterday – the green feeling…
The first guest enters, dripping with rain, and makes herself at home. We compare experiences of how to balance red, blue and yellow into a floating grayness; of how to reconcile, to integrate, to pan for gold in the stream of time. Holding, and beholding, a connection beyond words. Another visitor uplifts some works of mine, turning them into a sculptural arrangement. Yet another shares his delight and hardships in trying to depart from representation in his painting practice. Newcomer or professional artist, self-taught or highly educated – what we experience is real.
“Dare to be green!” A note left from one of yesterday’s evening guests greets me. Visitors come in small groups, we talk while moving things around; about the male gaze, and implications of setting frames and work titles – among other subjects. Meanwhile, I keep thinking about being green… What could it be? A little later, Soundtower colleagues Karin, Katt and Julia arrive for a sounding session, with Margaretha and Åke joining in. A sonic meditation is followed by voice improvisations, lullabies and a love song, as Margaretha’s peony quietly blushes.
Then the large green canvas unfolds, just like spring bursts into full summer… Voices and violin take turns in responding. Daring, tapping into the green!
There’s no way this day could be summarized in a few sentences. Moments shared; fully lived, not recorded. A lengthy, intimate dialogue; an almost wordless collaboration; follow-up surprises around the corner; a shared meal; an open, gracious exchange on faith and art from pagan, Jewish, Christian, Muslim and non-confessional perspectives. What could I say, other than: Thank You – Innar, Em…
…Per, Maria, Marcus, Vladan, Omol, Nina, Minas, Elisabeth and Bengt!
This is the beginning of the last week of the Exhibition – but, hopefully, Life will go on… This adventure will continue to produce meaning(s) throughout the rest of my artist life, I guess. Two of today’s guests represent the Archive for Temporary Art – an innovative, fun, clever artist/curator collective. A third visitor drops in; different preferences come forth, and negotiations start. The result? A tale of spiritual materiality, a perfect perishability. Thank you, Lisa and Carolina – thank you, unknown guest!
Day 20: this quiet Sunday afternoon allows me to add a new object – the silk kite that traveled to Japan, and back, last year. Then nothing noteworthy, until Johanna enters – thirty minutes before closing time – bringing fresh air and a fast-paced, playful flow that leaves the space refreshed and smiling, almost singing.
A chilly, rainy day. A neighbour cleans his windows across the street. Yesterday, guests helpfully removed some of the large canvasses (but stopped short at the last two). Today, I continue opening up the space – although I’d need more help to empty another wall. Meanwhile, I place some smaller works at the entrance, so as to welcome the gallery-goers of the weekend. A few of them venture a quick look inside my place.
Finally, a guy from the Netherlands proves happy to play along with my works, in a most gracious way; chosing three paintings, arranging them carefully and then presenting me an interpretation where they mirror spiritual evolvement from chaos to fulfillment and peace. Yesterday’s theme, today’s gift…
A day of sharing – sorrow, hope, joy and wonder. Being creative sometimes brings about a certain frailness. Being creative together enhances awareness, opening up for sensibility… Meeting former students and artist colleagues reassure me that art is real; essential knowledge, sincere communication.
“This is not a gallery”.
Visitors who usually don’t go to art spaces seem to welcome the idea of a display that potentially changes with each new guest. Visiting artist colleagues and art students embrace the concept, too. Oddly enough, those who “know” art – the connoisseurs – generally have been the least interested, sometimes openly dismissive. I try to address the issue by a hand-written note at the entrance. At last, I’m also giving credit to all those who contribute by their additions and interventions.
“This is not a gallery”
Today’s visitors are of the open-minded kind; an international artist / curator gives encouraging feedback. A couple living nearby peep in, stay a while, and compliment my work in the most wonderful way – dubbing it “kind of industrial”. I’m delighted.
This day turns out to be a talkative one. The first guests enter as soon as I open the door. Thoughtful observation generates reflections on normality, perfection, body grounded voice… and the unforeseeable response, that sometimes expands the horizon. Other visitors arrive and leave again,
keeping their experience private. Finally, somebody with keen eyes and careful hands makes a small adjustment with great impact. Thank you, Alexander and Marcus, Emma and everyone who ventured inside!