NoPlace, Oslo proudly presents:
Gro Gjengedal Navelsaker
Ingeborg Annie Lindahl
Veronica Rebecca Johansen
Curated by Tommy Olsson
24.02.12 - 11.03.12
Opening: Friday 24.02.12, 20.00 - 23.00
Opening hours 14-17, Saturdays and Sundays
It came from the west, my friends, and it hit me right here!!! And it will hit you too.
As is often the case within the intervowen fabric of hidden agendas and unforeseen minor setbacks - or indeed, minor disasters - that constitutes this place where we do our job (i.e. contemporary art - the contemporary term for "modernism", or if you prefer, "pop-corn modernism") - here and now, as ever so often, the gallery/showroom/institution (i.e. "the white cube", home of "the dark circle") functions as the place where all ends meet. Timing is of course crucial. So is location. This was not intended to counterbalance the interior design-approach to art that takes place elsewhere. Oh no, this is actually No Place we're talking about here. Oh, Lord, why not leave as quick as possible and live forever after?
Because you need this.
And you need it bad.
Admit it, you need it now.
Because now you know.
And things will never be the same again.
"Why?" you ask. Because we're in this situation together, and the situation is never stable, never fixed. We're in constant flux, and already reading this far you get the idea - don't make me go on with this topic or we'll end up in life as illusion-country. That is not where this is going. Not without fighting back. Utterly pointless These are the facts; FRENZY is a show born out of the other city. The city that is not Oslo. The city that is really No Place. Yes, Bergen. You heard me. Bergen. Smooth, where Oslo is rough. Hardcore, where Oslo fails. Vibrant, where Oslo is past tense. And the other way round. Lame, where Oslo is hot. Conservative, where Oslo is radical. But most of all; West, where Oslo is East. You couldn't possibly find a better "second largest city" anywhere. I mean, where would that be? (L.A.*, fuckface, np.anm.) Birmingham? Gothenburg? Aarhus? Akureyri? Tampere? Battambang? With all respect; No. No. No. Place. No. Regrets. No. Nothing. Nothing will remain. And these words on Nothing will end up where they belong - in a vast unexplored space.
However, to keep things down to earth, if only for a moment; By pure coincidence - or is it a massive Freudian slip from the curator? - the participants all happen to be women in their early thirties. Lets be fair; that's interesting, right? Why is that? Could it possibly boil down to the curator's personal taste in women? I mean...they're not exactly ugly or anything, right? And, you know, he's got a reputation and such. Could be interesting to know what this is about, so here's what he wrote recently in one of the neverending chats he had with the nice people in this place that is not a place:
"Personally, and you have to take my word for it, I really didn't think about the sex-factor until fairly recently. I just, you know, thought these five artists shared some common ground in their work, and in their approach, their way of doing research. Indeed, even the fields of research seem to overlap every now and then. It kind of makes sense though. That they're all female I mean. But my humble ambition didn't really go beyond my wish to export some of the vital momentum in Bergen to Oslo. Because I feel Oslo needs to catch up in some areas. Not to say Bergen is in any sense where it's really happening big time, but fact is - there's something going on the other side of the mountain and it is wise not to be ignorant about it. Then again, five women in their early thirties, all of them still doing their masters degree, is of course not in any way representable for the whole picture. However, they do represent a certain critical, sharp focus - it might be a generation-thing, or it might...well, I think it probably is, to do with gender. Something...kind of hard to define for a man, ok? I don't know what it means to be a woman. I hardly know what it means to be thirty. But from my point of view...uh...there's something about that shared experience, and the way they manage to twist that around until it becomes an advantage. Deep down there's a diabolic motor running the show, and you know, it's not mine - I just work here. However, I very much think it essential to distribute this here and now"
So much for patos. So much for ambition. All sacrificed for vision. Or was that visionary? The personal politics of Gro Gjengedal Navelsaker, the environmental statements of Ingeborg Annie Lindahl, the mad - really mad - science of Jane Sverdrupsen, the unpredictable fairytale-gone-wrong-interventions of Janna Thöle-Juul, and the re-thinking of the term "gothic" by Veronica Rebecca Johansen is, at least as an idea, certainly a potent potion for those involved enough to be familiar with their work. Nightmarish. Hard. Brutal. Determined. You know...female. Yet, if we're to believe the curator, all this is secondary to something he has yet to make clear - but really, can you trust this fat old slob that embodies the old saying that all art critics are failed artists? (No, that was...Frank Zappa about the music press, wasn't it?)
Really? No. But you're lucky in that respect; this is not a matter of trust (as if anything could be). It is really up to you. It is always up to you. And you will feel what I feel. Alone. Naked. Blind. A constant state of desire. And you will remember these words when they hit you where it hurts the most. When you realise how alien all this really is. And that it doesn't matter what you think. And the disease in the strangers eyes is your disease. On this very day. In this very moment. This moment of FRENZY that will not last, but make its irreparable damage along the course.
Of course, we have failed.
That's it. Just another goddamn failure.
Action. Time. Vision.
The Ceremony is about to begin.
* (+ Antwerp, La Paz, Rio De Janeiro, Beijing, Melbourne, Alexandria, Marseille, Hamburg, Delhi, Milan, Rotterdam, Montreal, Krakow, Porto, St. Petersburg, Cape Town, Barcelona, Geneva, Tel-Aviv etc., np.anm.)