Artist Residency in Eastern Iceland

Off to Iceland last September for a month long artist residency at Skaftfell Center for Visual Art, located on a fjord in the small fishing village of Seydisfjordur. My fifth visit to the island as there is something about the elemental shapes and energies that continue to draw me back to its natural wonders of volcanoes, rift zones and young landscapes visibly being reshaped.

I return to feel its energies and rhythms, to experience its vastness and to open me to possibilities and conversations with and of the landscape.

Conversations with, of and off:

Evidence of the landscape organizing itself—reshaping itself in human time. The eruption site of the Meradalir Volcano on the Reykjanes Peninsula in August of 2022.

Two years ago in December of 2020, Seydisfjordur experienced an average year’s rainfall over a period of 10 days. Major landslides destroyed 13 buildings.

Now, two years later, evidence of the landslides remain.

displacement, dislocation, movement, shaping, change?

A water process that shapes the landscape

During my stay, I experienced a red alert storm with winds up to 60 m per second. Evidence of the power of the winds (below); a historic pier house built around 1900 by a Norwegian entrepreneur was lost, collapsing on itself.

There’s no everything; everything is always moving as the landscape (natural and human—made) interacts with the natural processes of wind, water and soil.

Dissolving boundaries between art and nature; merging art and earth natural processes. Video by Brooke Holve & Eve Chartrand created during the artist residency at Skaftfell Center for Visual Art.

Scree wise?

  Without seeing Iceland's glaciers, one knows by the abundance of scree slopes (skriða) throughout Iceland, that they exist. Glaciers break down the land and broken rock fragments accumulate  at the base of hamars (crags) and mountain cliffs.  Deceptively smooth from a distance!

On my last day of the residency, Alda (one of the residency directors) and her husband, Jon took us on a walk down to the "milky" waters outside of Laugarvatn (an endearing term they give to rivers that looked white from a distance).  Once at the river, rather than return the way we came, Jon wanted to follow the river out and asked if anyone might be interested.  Most opted not too. His children and Auke followed Jon and  I elected to as I wanted to gps a longer walk .  Little did I know that I would call this one my "challenge" walk.

As the terrain became rockier and rockier,  it became clearer that we would not be able to walk down along the river. Jon pointed up along the hillside, "this way up".  Hmm?  Straight up a hillside of scree with minimal plants for anchors. Trusting an Icelander (???),  I followed along until I was no longer able to establish firm footing in the abundant scree, slipping and sliding with no plants to hold onto. Scree wise?

Somehow, with Aucke's help (and body), I found a way up to meet the others at the top.  Thank you Auke!