Reykjavík Grapevine - 10.05.2013, Blaðsíða 22

22
Life Imitates Art:
Meeting Ingimar Oddsson
We’re here to discuss his newest
project, The Bildalian Chronicles, a
multi-media, steam punk-inspired,
adventure narrative/travel diary
harkening back to Jules Verne and H.G.
Wells. Based in part on Ingimar’s expe-
riences in the small Westfjords village
of Bíldudalur, The Bildalian Chronicles
blends reality and fiction, print narra-
tive, video instalments and illustration
to bring to life “one man’s journey to
Bildalia in search of sea monsters and
paranormal phenomena.”
THE ONLY STEAM PUNK
IN ICELAND
Verisimilitude is key to Ingimar’s
project: Bildalia has its own currency
(called hlunkar, meaning “fat,” with
one hlunkar being roughly equivalent
to 10 ISK), its own newspaper (The
Bildalian Post), crest, and even its own
king (Peter) and royal heir (Lady Guð-
run Louisa Ernst). Moreover, Ingimar
himself is the story’s central character,
a role that he finds easy to integrate
into his daily life.
“The character is not that exagger-
ated from myself, so I don’t have to
act a lot. I have been on stage several
times and that is a harder thing—you
have to put yourself into a different
character,” he says. But when Ingimar
puts on his “costume,” he’s not just
doing so for the sake of his fictional
alter ego. He’s just getting dressed for
the day.
“When I discovered steam-punk, I
thought: ‘so this is what I’m called—so
there is a name for me.’ Twenty years
ago, I had long hair and a long tail
jacket and I walked about in a cloak.
This is like coming home.”
Steam punk is an aesthetic which
is, much like Ingimar himself, a little
old world mixing with new: “Today
you put plastic over everything,” he
says. “[Steam punk] is like the world
without plastic. It’s more eco-friendly
in a sense—I have old clothes and
I fix them up, I’m recycling all the
time.” He has collected a fair number
of “props”—from old trunks to the
“parphenometre,” which he built
for measuring levels of paranormal
activity in Bildalia—but in each case,
he’s very discriminating about what
he acquires or repurposes. “You can’t
just glue a gear on it and call it steam
punk,” he says.
Discovering this aesthetic identity
and ideology has certainly been fruit-
ful for Ingimar’s creative life, but it
hasn’t necessarily introduced him to
a larger community here in Iceland.
While steam punk has dedicated fol-
lowings in other countries around the
world—Ingimar mentioned Japan,
Germany, Britain, and the US—it
hasn’t so much caught on in Iceland.
“I’m the only, lonely one,” he
laughed. “I know there are maybe
some cartoonists making some [steam
punk] drawings, but I don’t think
anyone is dressing up like me, walking
down Laugavegur with my top hat and
goggles...” He shrugs.
IN SEARCH OF SEA
MONSTERS
For three months last summer, Ingimar
moved to Bíldudalur to work on his
Bildalian Chronicles, guided by his
own imagination and also integrating
unplanned, everyday occurrences
into his story as well. His computer
started misbehaving when he first
arrived, blinking out strange messages
and patterns. He declared it “para-
normal activity” and made a video
diary instalment about it. He fell while
rescuing a bird and got a black eye.
This inspired a story twist in which he
is kidnapped and abused by the nefari-
ous “Grotters,” who want to know just
what exactly Ingimar is investigating in
Bildalia, and who he works for.
Ingimar integrates all sorts of
real-life inspirations in his fictional
world: characters in Bildalia frequently
take their basis from real people and
Bildalian history incorporates facts
from Bíldudalur history. “Most read-
ers, however, will just read the story
as fiction,” he explains, “and you don’t
have to know the truth to enjoy it.”
As a child and young man, Ingimar
was a dedicated reader of adventure
stories—Jules Verne was a favourite—
and so while he didn’t get to travel
much or go abroad, he developed an
appreciation for everyday magic and
a sense of wonder which he tries to
infuse into his art. He has vivid memo-
ries of summers spent in Bíldudalur, of
the merman that he recalls seeing on
a beach when he was eight and of the
town’s famous sea monsters, which
boast their very own museum.
“It’s a mission for me,” Ingimar
says. “I want to help others to experi-
ence the adventure I experienced as
child.”
MOVING TO
BÍLDUDALUR
Ingimar’s own adventures in the real
Bíldudalur are just beginning. He will
be moving to the village permanently
in early May (just after the publication
of The Bildalian Chronicles) and will be
working as a host (in character) at the
Icelandic Sea Monster museum over
the summer. Under his advisement,
the museum has already made some
aesthetic changes and will also be
able to remain open until September,
instead of closing in August as usual.
Bíldudalur, Ingimar notes, has
nurtured “a very lively artistic life for
many, many decades. People in the
nearby fjords sometimes say that
people in Bíldudalur are just artists
sitting around and drinking red wine
all the time. When my mother was
growing up there, the theatre company
went travelling all around the fjords to
perform their shows. They have a lot
of painters and actors and many, many
good artists.”
It sounds like an ideal place for
Ingimar to continue his artistic endeav-
ours. He can envision expanding the
Bildalia project to include an online
component in which people can take
up residence in Bildalia and become
characters in the story. He is also
continuing to compose music, and is
already at work on another book about
the origins of the Hidden People and
entering the elfish world.
For Ingimar, each project, however
disparate the media or the story, is
connected and really part of the same
larger artistic project. “It is all sort of
the same for me. When I write, I hear
music. And when I make music, I see
pictures, and when I see pictures, I
make stories.” - Larissa Kyzer
Artist, musician, and author Ingimar Oddsson sits at a window table in a café
in downtown Reykjavík, his hands folded calmly on his lap. There is a Sherlock
Holmes-style deer-stalker on the table (a gift his sister bought for him in Scotland)
and he’s wearing a high collar, olive-drab coat buttoned at the neck with a white
aviator scarf folded like a cravat. Small silver wire-rim spectacles and a carefully
groomed handlebar moustache complete the effect. He sits, gently twisting one
end of his moustache, at once a part of his surroundings and separate from them.
ArtThe e-book can be purchased at http://www.emma.is/ and https://www.skinna.is
Laugavegur 54
INTER
VIEW
“When
I discovered
steam-punk, I
thought: ‘so this is
what I’m called—so
there is a name
for me.’”