Reykjavík Grapevine - 12.01.2007, Qupperneq 37

With 140 artists working under the same
roof for almost two years, Klink & Bank was
5,000 square metres of artistic energy. Later,
the house was sold. What happens now?
On the second day of my first visit to Reyk-
javík, I visited the house at Brautarholt 1.
Somebody had told me there was a free
concert there. I opened the door and to my
surprise there was no concert hall or bar in
sight. I walked through room after room,
went up and down floors, saw drawings,
pictures, music gear and graffiti, costumes
and empty cups. Then a guitar started play-
ing somewhere far away. I have no sense of
direction but I let my ears guide me. Finally I
made it into a big room where people were
sitting in couches listening to a solo guitar
player on a stage. He had long hair and a
pained expression. Later I started talking to
somebody, a Finnish couple gave me some
vodka, and a girl invited me to a birthday
party and there was some dancing. Back
home I would tell my friends that everyone
in Reykjavik was an artist.
In 2003, Landsbanki Íslands offered
young artists in Reykjavík the use of a big
and unused industrial building the bank had
acquired in downtown Reykjavík. The bank
contacted a group of young artists who had
recently opened a gallery on Laugavegur by
the name Kling & Bang. They offered the use
of the building, free of charge, for one year.
Together they decided to put ads in every
newspaper in the country for two days, of-
fering people studio space. Out of 500 re-
plies 140 artists, designers, filmmakers and
musicians were chosen. Klink & Bank opened
in March 2004, housing art studios, rehearsal
rooms, gallery and performance spaces, re-
cording studios and construction workshops
on three floors. The only rule was that the
space should not be used commercially.
When I returned to Reykjavík a year ago
I went to the same address. The doors were
locked. The artists at Klink & Bank were only
offered the space for a limited time. First
it was a year, later extended for six more
months. The last people left their studios in
November 2005.
I met Erling Klingenberg, one of the eight
artists behind the Kling & Bang gallery that
was responsible for Klink & Bank, to hear
what happened to all this artistic energy
when the house was sold and all the artists
had moved out.
“We needed to breathe after it was all
over. To digest. During the nearly two years
of residence there were many exhibitions,
touring concerts, theatre and dance, a rough
average of three events per week. There was
a crazy energy and productivity, which might
not have been as intense if we would have
had the place on a permanent basis.
Erling says there was little organisation
involved in Klink & Bank. Almost half the
time no one even knew who had the key to
the building and practical matters like who
should take out the garbage started to be-
come a problem. But from the anarchy and
chaos, a genuine artistic experiment was
born.
“What happened in Klink & Bank was
that people from different fields like music,
visual art and dance got to know each other
and it influenced their artistic work. One
could see all kinds of art working in the same
space; people started working together on
projects. It was an inspiration to see what
all the people where working on. The house
created a communication between different
types of art and opened up new types of col-
laboration. The inspiration and communica-
tion continued to develop after the people
had to move out. There are small groups
from Klink & Bank who have gotten studios
together today.”
Despite the relative success of the proj-
ect, there are no plans to repeat the experi-
ment in the same manner, but the people
involved are still reaping the benefits.
“We are working on a book about the
two years of the house. But there are 5-
6,000 images to go through, and it takes
time. There has been a lot of international
interest, several documentaries about the
development of it has been aired abroad.
I’m going to Brussels in a few days, to speak
about Klink & Bank actually. We have also
been a part of exhibitions in other countries
and lately there has been talk about a gipsy
train.”
A train? That will be a challenge.
“No, I mean a train of busses and trucks of
artists, designers, musicians, dancers and ac-
tors that will perform and have exhibitions
through Europe. People can join or get off
where ever they like to. We have already
started to organise it, but at the same time
we are still breathing out after the craziness
of the house. Hopefully the gypsy train will
happen by 2010.”
As I sit and write this, I can picture an old
rusty ship full of busses and trucks, leaving
Iceland and crossing the Atlantic Ocean. On
the deck some people dressed in white are
dancing. Others have started to spray paint
the trucks in different colours. At the front
deck there is a band playing and a man in a
cowboy hat is working on a canvas, naked. A
woman is filming the sky. The captain of the
ship is scratching his ear, with a look on his
face that expresses dismay and his hope that
their trip will be a short one.
Look out; the Klink & Bank gypsy train
might soon arrive in a town close to you.
Filling the Klink & Bank Gap
Text by Ellen Marie Fodstad Photo by Skari
REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 01_007_ART/HOUSING_5
Klink & Bank opened in March 00, housing art
studios, rehearsal rooms, gallery and performance
spaces, recording studios and construction work-
shops on three floors. The only rule was that the
space should not be used commercially.