Where is the darkness? Instead
22 hours of light endless days
with a twilight barely noticed between sunset and sunrise
time altering,
perhaps like a dream
what time
is it?
I'm exhausted!
Where is the darkness? Instead
22 hours of light endless days
with a twilight barely noticed between sunset and sunrise
time altering,
perhaps like a dream
what time
is it?
I'm exhausted!
What's my attraction to Iceland? This desire to go north, to a land of open space, solitude and silence with a vastness of blue hues, horizons, and nothingness. Its presence is elemental and primordial and one that is sensed and felt. " Eg reit ekki." I don't know. I don't know why I am moved!
Its feeling takes me back to a place of "beginning" and I am reminded once again of Theodore Roethke's, "Cuttings" ("This urge, wrestle, resurrection of dry sticks....."), a poem that moved me way back when!
While in Reykjavik, I toured some of its art galleries and museums. Some highlights:
Hanging in the entry at Hafnarhus was The Icelandic Love Corporation's "Sokkabuxnavehur"/Tights-web.
An inventive use of panty hose!
There was also a wonderful installation "Knitting House" by Elin Ruin and the New Beauty Council.
"Knitting House" recreated the most common type of apartment in Husby, a suburb of Stockholm, Sweden. The apartments were a standardized prefab housing project built in 1974. Women knitted an exact replica of the apartments at 75% scale. Visitors can walk inside, stepping over a steel support structure to enter all of the rooms. Wonderful details and textures that include stains, wallpaper patterns, tiles, knobs, fixtures, all in muted hues.
On Viðey Island, I visited Richard Serra's "Milestones". I felt like I was on a pilgrimage as I walked from station to station, once again tracking the walk using my GPS.
"Milestones" also called "Áfangar", spans the entire western part of Viðey, an island in Reykjavik's bay. The piece comprises nine pairs of basalt columns, a reference to the geology of the island.
The columns are placed at the same elevation on the periphery of the island: one column of each pair stands nine metres above sea level, the other at ten metres. One pillar of each pair is four metres in height and the other three metres, so that the tops of the pillars are at 13 metres above sea level. The distance between each pair of pillars depends upon the gradient of the ground. All the pillars are visible from the highest point on west Viðey, at 18 metres above sea level.
Also on the island is Yoko Ono's "The Imagine Peace Tower" conceived as a beacon to world peace. The work is in the form of a wishing well on which the words "Imagine Peace" are inscribed in 24 world languages. Out of the well emerges a strong, tall tower of light.
On Oct 9, 2007 the work was dedicated to the memory of John Lennon, on his 67th birthday. Every year the Imagine Peace Tower is lit from October 9 (Lennon's birthday) to December 8 (the day of his death). In addition the tower is lit from the winter solstice to New Year's Day and during the first week of spring. The electricity for the light comes entirely from Reykjavik Energy and is generated from geothermal power.
On the Snaefellsnes peninsula, I visited Roni Horn's installation, "Library of Water" http://www.libraryofwater.is/landing.html in the coastal town of Stykkisholmur. It is located in a former library building that stands on a promontory overlooking the town and ocean.
The "Library of Water" is a constellation of 24 glass columns that contain water collected from ice of some major glaciers around Iceland. The glass columns reflect and refract light onto a rubber floor embedded with Icelandic and English words that relate to weather.
And finally back in Reykjavik, the i8 gallery (my favorite gallery in Reykjavik) featured the work of artist, Egill Sæbjörnsson who experiments with elements of sculpture, animation and sound that interact in a playful and inventive way.
Just finished reading Christina Sunley's novel, The Tricking of Freya. I love her description of Iceland's geology and its effect on California, my home. "Think of the earth like an egg with its shell cracked. We're standing on one of those cracks. Right here is where the North American Plate meets the Eurasian Plate. Right through the middle of Iceland. And underneath, lava rises up and pushes the two plates apart. That's what causes earthquakes in California. California is on the opposite side of the North American Plate. Iceland is pushing California into the ocean."
I visited one of the rift sites at the end of the Reykjanes Peninsula. Leif the Lucky Bridge marks the boundary between the North American plate to the west, and the Eurasian plate to the east, which are moving apart at a rate of about 2 cm per year.
Another rift valley can be seen at Þingvellir, one of Iceland's most important historical sites, where the Vikings established the world's first democratic partliament, the AlÞing in 930 A.D.
Below are stones shaped from the forces of the plates. I took many photos to inspire new shapes for my constructions when I return.
I continue to be fascinated by the Icelandic language and was curious about how Icelanders describe their winds. Here is a partial list: vindur- wind
stormur - heavy wind
rok - hard wind
moldrok - strong wind with earth
sandrok - strong wind with sand
fárviðri - crazy wind, tempest, typhoon
gola, gjóla, hvassviðri - breeze
logn - no wind
andvari - breath
kaldi - a cold chilly breeze
stinningskaldi - ice cold wind
fellibylur - hurricane
hnúkaÞeyr - warm mountain wind flowing from south to north
norðangarri - cold north to south wind
sunnanblær - southern breeze
gustur - gust of wind
austankaldir - east cold wind
hvasst - medium strong wind
strekkingur - medium wind
blástur - blast "It is blowing/windy."
hvirfilvindur - tornado
sviptivindur - sudden strong winds, common around steep mountains
staðvindur - trade winds common to a region
skafrenningur - wind that blows loose snow; piles of snow result
Winds can be destructive here. One of Iceland's most enduring environmental issues is soil erosion caused by high winds and the overgrazing of sheep. In parts of the country, particularly in the highlands region, results are dramatic, with formerly vegetated land reduced to barren wastes.
Nootka lupin ( a purple-flowered plant from the west coast of North America) was introduced to Iceland to help anchor and add nitrogen to the soil. The project has had mixed results; on one hand it has revegetating vast tracts of land but not without a cost. Unfortunately it is now affecting Iceland's biodiversity. Grazing sheep do not like its bitter taste, so it has spread its relatively tall foliage, blocking light for indigenous mosses, lichens and shrubs.
On most days here I have experienced "blessuð bliðan":
However, recently the "moldrok" and "sandrok" from the highlands blew in, results of Iceland's soil erosion:
Liz and I took a weekend break from the studio with Ægir and Linda, friends of Liz's from Iceland who wanted to show us their country. They drove us along Iceland's southern route (hwy 1) and we took in the ever-changing landscape, stopping every 30 meters or thereabouts for a "photo op". The word for the weekend was "stop" as we used it often whenever another "photo op" appeared. It seemed to work as we never uttered or learned the Icelandic word for stop. Later I looked it up and found seven words for stop: dvöl, stansa, stöðva, hætta, stoppa, staðncemast, snarstoppa. I wonder what kind of stops Icelanders make????
Iceland is packed with spectacular natural phenomena, evidenced by what we saw on our 300 kilometer (one way) trek. Amazing scenery and sites:
STOP: Waterfalls to walk behind and view from the top.
STOP: Old traditional homes with sod covered roofs and some built into the hillside.
STOP: Dverghamrar, "Dwarf Cliffs", dwellings of the "little people".
STOP: Miles of moss covered lava that takes 100 years to grow; 10" thick, soft and spongy to walk on.
STOP: Mýrdahur with black beaches and basalt columns and twisted/tortured shapes.
STOP: The Glacial Lagoon at Jökolsarlón at base of Vatnajökul, the largest glacier in Europe covering 12,000 square kilometers with its ice formations, always changing. The lagoon is 250 meters deep with only the tips of the icebergs visible.
STOP: Rocks jetting out of grass covered mountains:
ANOTHER KIND OF STOP:
STOP: A solitary church overlooking small bay town of Vik.
And finally a stop of a stop:
As Liz said, "It's fine eating the same thing each day but we are!"
Until we were treated to an Icelandic tradition, baking hverabrauð underground in a geothermal area. Kristveig, one of the directors of Gullkistan's artist residency demonstrated the making and baking of hverabrauð, a rich brown rye bread made with "lyftiduft", the Icelandic word for baking powder that sounds like "lifting up". Once the batter was made, it was spooned into greased containers of what was around, a milk carton and a bacardi can. They were sealed well with cellophane, plastic wrap and tape, then taken to the lakeside where we dug two holes and buried each. The following day, after 24 hours of cooking, we unearthed, unwrapped and enjoyed a feast of hverabrauð and butter with smoke salmon and trout.