Reykjavík Grapevine - 21.06.2013, Qupperneq 28

THE NUMBER 1 MUSIC STORE
IN EUROPE ACCORDING TO
LONELY PLANET
SKÓLAVÖRÐUSTÍG 15, 101 REYKJAVÍK AND HARPA CONCERT HALL
The artists featured in “Under The Open Sky” were all unpaid, and received personal invitations to
participate. Street maps with artwork locations can be obtained in the lobby of Hallgrímskirkja.
Put on some comfy walking shoes and get some fresh air, the exhibit is on until August 25.
28The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 8 — 2013
When In Roam
Wandering with a purpose in downtown Reykjavík
Art
Walking up Skólavörðustígur one notices that the path of travellers on the sidewalks is akin to that of a drunken
college student wandering home after a long night at the bar. The wanderers swerve and sway with little regard
to the large stroller approaching rapidly from behind, the jogger whose momentum is about to be torn in two,
or the looming threat of a stubborn lamppost. But it's not booze to blame; it's beauty.
The area induces a 10-block-long
state of head-in-the-clouds. The
quintessentially "Reykjavík" sights
of Skólavörðustígur are distracting,
to put it lightly, and dangerous, to
be real. Which is why we thought it
would be a good idea to patrol for
risk zones during a summer-long
outdoor art exhibit titled "Under the
Open Sky," in the interest of public
safety, of course.
Head in the sky
The exhibit features works by 94
artists dispersed about the central
district of Reykjavík. Front yards,
side yards, windowsills and empty
walls have all become exhibit spaces
from May 25 to August 25, or as
long as the pieces can withstand the
weather. Some are conspicuous,
like a chained ring of broken-glass
bodies by Laufey Jensdóttir mark-
ing the corner of Óðinsgata and
Skólavörðustígur. Others are subtler,
like a 10-square hopscotch on the
sidewalk, Erla Þórarinsdóttir's way
of encouraging a bouncing depar-
ture from Hallgrímskirkja. While
traversing this stretch, one must be
especially aware of the second-story
and rooftop works, as they become
high-risk zones for eyes-to-the-sky,
feet-on-the-ground collisions.
Just off of the main drag, the
self-guided tour leads guests into
the charming neighbourhood of
Óðinstorg. Óðinstorg itself is a work
of art, being the oldest residential
neighbourhood in Reykjavík. The
buildings were all built in the early
20th century, and the streets are
named after Nordic Gods.
The biggest threat in this region is
not pedestrian collisions, but rather
the deluded drifter. Streets in this
neighbourhood kink and curve, they
dead end and then start back up
again ten meters to the right, they
run perpendicular and diagonal and
parallel to each other all at once.
Nothing about this neighbourhood is
intuitive. The sense of directionless-
ness that Óðinstorg induces actu-
ally enhances the experience of the
exhibit. Unlike museums, which push
the viewer from one room to the
next, there is a refreshing sense of
freedom. Nothing is stale in the open
air, and nothing is dull when you're
there by choice.
Drifting with purpose
Back in the 1940s, a man named Guy
Debord picked up on the benefits
of this free movement, and through
it he carved out and defined the
theory of the dérive. Dérive trans-
lates literally to drift in English. It was
a practice, a mode of navigating a
city by not navigating it at all. Skip
the Google Maps and the Já.is. What
Debord realised with dérive is that no
matter how familiar one is with a city,
how engrained it is in them, there is
always a new experience to be had.
By allowing oneself to be guided by
aesthetics, the most familiar places
become new and original again.
Even though visitors are provided
graphic street maps with numbered
locations of each work, the spirit
of dérive is present in the exhibit.
Alongside the deliberate tour-taker,
we have the involuntary viewer; the
one who just happens to cross Jóna
Thors' vibrant bloom of horizontal
daisies stretching across the street
on a walk home from work; the
one who is stopped, midway to
the bakery, to press his ear against
a mounted wooden box by Ólöf
Jóhannsdóttir that emits a stream
of women's narratives in Icelandic.
In this sense there is hardly any
freedom of choice involved. You are
exposed, whether or not you set out
that morning craving an impromptu
serving of Art.
So, aside from the occasional
iPad-happy looker, the exhibit as a
whole has the opposite effect than
what was anticipated. It makes
pedestrians of Reykjavík, locals
and foreigners alike, more careful
observers. Many make the daily
stroll through Óðinstorg and may
have never noticed that it contains
the most vibrantly yellow tulip in
all of Iceland, or the most gnome-
infested stoop in, perhaps, the world.
The artworks themselves blend
well with their surroundings, but
don't disappear into them. These
subtle additions, while impressive in
themselves, serve most importantly
as a reminder to look right and left
instead of just straight ahead. So
slow your stroll, get a little lost, and
take it all in.
“The biggest threat in this region
is not pedestrian collisions, but
rather the deluded drifter”
by Parker Yamasaki
Photo: Alisa Kalyanova