Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.04.2012, Side 36

36
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 4 — 2012
When I learned that a young artist
that I had never heard of was put-
ting on a show exclusively for the
residents of a tiny hamlet I didn’t
remember ever hearing of, I just
had to go witness it. The event’s
producer, Kári Viðarsson—a Hellis-
sandur native, actor and film stu-
dent—was attempting to get every
living soul in the village of Rif to
attend a rock concert. That’s all
165 of them, including newborn
children, the elderly and everyone
between.
Kári told me he’d personally make sure
of that people would attend. And he
wasn’t lying. A few weeks prior to the
show he’d been on a couple of Rif cru-
sades, visiting each household to de-
liver a personal invitation, and on the
day of the event he was on the phone
calling up people and reminding them.
Only he wouldn’t tell them who was
performing, and then he would make a
documentary capturing the crowd and
the performances.
Googling Rif revealed that the vil-
lage is located on Snæfellsnes, smack
dab between Ólafsvík and Sandgerði. I
called my driver and photographer; we
looked at the map and decided that if
we drove around the Snæfellsnes pen-
insula that we would reach Stykkishól-
mur and from there we would turn left
toward Ólafsvík, and then it would be
somewhere between Hellisandur and
Ólafsvík. “We’ll figure it out” was the
general consensus and set off on a
three hour drive from Reykjavík.
IN AN OLD FREEzING pLANT
It was Sunday, March 11 and the weath-
er gods were not being particularly
nice. With no steep mountains, Rif is
largely unprotected from the elements
and its streets, homes and their dwell-
ers are like sitting ducks. Thus it was
cold, fucking cold. Were it not for the
ocean, Rif would be a hellhole weath-
er-wise. But it’s not. It’s just very cold,
grey, barren and windy at this time of
year and I loved it.
It felt like a ghost town. There was
no one around. The venue was an old
freezing plant called Frystiklefinn. It
looked and smelled like it. The ghouls
of fallen shrimps and triumphed fish
must be around, but I chose not to
think about such abhorrence. We found
Kári there, eager and ready for the eve-
ning. Kári showed me a list of all of the
residents and started reading out their
names. Everyone has a nickname. Af-
ter doing the door to door and calling
and emailing everyone, he felt certain
that they would show up, provided they
were in town.
It was an event in and of itself when
both young and old explained that they
could not attend. The reasons varied.
Some were out of town, others were
registered to claim benefits in Rif, but
live somewhere else. Many were at sea.
The rest were ill or at home nursing
newborns. I got a taste of the local hu-
mour as Kári talked about what kind of
characters the missing persons were,
and everyone was laughing.
pLAY AND THEY WILL COME
Ylja kicked off the evening ever so
pleasantly, immediately captivating
the audience. It was as if they did not
want a single note of music nor a single
heartfelt slide-guitar lead go to waste
and the angelic twin-vocal melodies
had Rif’s population in a lock. The set
went over so well that Ylja resorted to
playing the same song twice when they
ran out of tunes. Svavar Knúts was up
next. “It’s fantastic getting these young
artists for a visit. It pulls the community
closer together,” Guðrún Gísladóttir
(55) tells me as Svavar sets up. His per-
formance goes down with a storm. Half
of his set was spent spilling his guts to
the crowd and they loved every second
of it. This was the perfect environment
for him.
Then Kári got on stage to inform the
attendees of the final tally. “There are
133 people currently in the hamlet, and
92 are at this concert,” he told us. He
calculated that this was about 70%. Be-
ing an optimistic man, he reminded us
that this was the equivalent of 92.000
people turning out for a gig in Reykja-
vík. We all chuckled. He continued: “It
says something about your commu-
nity that so many of you came without
knowing who would play.” And indeed
it does. Ragna Magnússdóttir (24) told
me she wasn’t surprised by the siz-
able turnout. “People are just happy
to not have to go to Hellissandur and
Ólafssvík for cultural entertainment,”
she said. “I find countryside folks are by
and large more eager than city folks to
engage in social events.”
ONE MAN'S 70% IS ANOTHER'S
100%
Kári admitted that he had hoped for
a larger turnout. “I tried my darned-
est but not everyone was informed,”
he told me. I asked him whether the
stereotype about small town gos-
sip—everyone knowing and participat-
ing simply ‘cause it’s something to do,
didn’t apply today. He wasn’t sure. “A
lot of foreigners live here and during
roll call I realised a lot of them were
not here. There is a division between
them and the Iceland natives. I assume
some have moved since the list was
published. Others simply didn’t want to
be here. I sent my cameraman out dur-
ing the show to encourage more peo-
ple to come, and he had a door or two
slammed in his face,” he said laughing.
It was not for lack of trying on Kári’s
part for he had invitation cards trans-
lated so every non-native would feel
welcome. “Some of them came. That’s
great. It’s better than nothing. I’ve been
involved in theatre productions in this
very venue and the Polish never came.
So this is encouraging. I’m proud so
many people came for this first Rif-
residents-only concert.”
Being a firm believer in Kári’s sin-
cerity and passion to entertain and
engage his people, I couldn’t help but
to play devil’s advocate. Was this event
self-serving to facilitate him with ma-
terial for his film? “It’s a good ques-
tion,” he said. “I don’t think the goals
are mutually exclusive. The initial idea
was born while studying documentary
filmmaking. The setting and context is
inspired by this venue because it’s been
on my mind since I did my monodrama
graduation piece there. Achieving the
100% was not the sole purpose. I’m
more concerned with giving back to
this community because it has been
good to me and supported my artistic
endeavours from day one.”
The Frystiklefinn art space is here to
stay and Kári and his friends will con-
tinue to explore its potential year round.
If Rif’s reaction and acceptance is any-
thing to go by, it will cement itself as
a hub for arts and culture for years to
come.
Words
Birkir Fjalar Viðarsson
photography
Ægir Freyr Birgisson
Small Communities | Rif
Be There Or Be Square
An entire village attends a rock concert
MEDIEVAL MANUSCRIPTS – Eddas and Sagas
The ancient vellums on display.
MILLENNIUM
Icelandic art through the ages. Phase one.
CHILD OF HOPE – Youth and Jón Sigurðsson
Tribute to the leader of the independence movement.
EXHIBITIONS - GUIDED TOURS
CAFETERIA - CULTURE SHOP
The Culture House – Þjóðmenningarhúsið
National Centre for Cultural Heritage
Hverfisgata 15 · 101 Reykjavík (City Centre)
Tel: 545 1400 · thjodmenning.is · kultur.is
Open daily between 11 am and 5 pm
Free guided tour of THE MEDIEVAL
MANUSCRIPTS weekdays at 3 pm,
except Wednesdays.