Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.08.2013, Qupperneq 33

33
Hafnarhús
Tryggvagata 17,
101 Rvk.
Open 10-17
Thursdays 10-20
Kjarvalsstaðir
Flókagata, 105 Rvk.
Open 10-17
Ásmundarsafn
Sigtún, 105 Rvk.
May-Sept.:
Open 10-17
Okt.-Apr.:
Open 13-17
One Ticket - Three Museums
Open Daily
Guided tour in English available every Friday at
11am. in June, July and August at Kjarvalsstaðir
www.artmuseum.is
Tel: (354) 590 1200
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Reykjavík · Engjateigur 19 and Laugavegur 20b · Hafnarfjörður · Strandgata 34 · www.glo.is
This is Solla Eiriksdottir, the winner
of Best Gourmet Raw Chef and Best
Simple Raw Chef in the 2011 and
2012 “Best of Raw” Awards. Come and try out one
of her great dishes at her restaurant Gló.
Art
pany and concept. "I guess we're
sort of doing the same thing with the
fish factory project," Zdenek says,
"we're recycling the building."
"But things got very lonely a lot of
the time," Rosa explains. "Saturday
nights we were like, 'should we go
visit mom and dad, or do origami?'"
she jokes. "You should have seen our
New Year's Eve," Zdenek elabo-
rates. "We were standing outside at
midnight with our glasses of cham-
pagne. There wasn't even a cat in the
street. Nothing."
The story is all too common for
the small villages in the area. When
the government instated the individ-
ually transferable quota system on
the fishing industry, Stöðvarfjörður
less-than-willingly handed their quo-
ta over to a company called Snæfell,
with the understanding that the right
to harvest the local fishing grounds
would no longer be in their hands,
but would remain in their town. But
eventually, as the story goes, the
small company was bought out by
Samherji and the fishing quota was
relocated. The day the fish factory
closed, 34 people lost their jobs, and
Rosa was one of them. In less than a
year from that so too went the post-
office, then the bank. "They pretty
much killed the town," Rosa recalls.
Enter the void
The fire was smouldered, but never
fully extinguished. In 2005, the fac-
tory closed. In 2010, the municipality
decided that the building was to be
demolished. It had been inactive and
uninhabited for six years, the roof
was peeling off, the walls were crum-
bling, and it was just plain unsightly.
In stepped Rosa and Zdenek. After
a year of planning, presentations,
and loads of paperwork, the couple
bought the abandoned factory for
100,000 ISK.
The road to obtaining the factory
was just as rickety as the road into
Stöðvarfjörður. "To them we were
just two guys with loads of ideas."
Rosa says, "it took us nearly a year
to convince the municipality that
we weren't just crazy hippies." They
came up with project proposals,
budgets, models and projections.
They were granted and denied. "With
these big projects they want plans,
they want to see how you're going
to make money, and when you are
going to make it. That is, if you'll
make it immediately or not," Zdenek
says with slight annoyance. "It's
hard to come up with these projec-
tions when you're not doing it for the
money," Rosa says. "It is so square"
Zdenek agrees. Eventually the couple
won the support the officials, and
more importantly, the support of the
community.
The town of Stöðvarfjörður has
been immensely supportive of the
Fish Factory project and all of its
extensions, like Pólar. "It's such a
brilliant example of community"
Rosa says proudly. "Like last night at
the concert in the community centre,
I looked around and there are little
kids, people my parents age, and my
former teachers all in there dancing
along with the people here for the
festival."
All hands on deck
On Sunday afternoon, nearly
everybody in the town gathered on
the front porch of the old church for
brunch. A day prior Inga, a resident
of Stöðvarfjörður for forty years, led
a workshop gathering native herbs
and moss. The group used these
gathered goods to make a creamy
soup and a variety of freshly baked
breads. Inga's all-natural delicacies
were complemented by pancakes
grilled on the spot and served up,
one by one.
Food and feasts sewed a common
thread between the festival and
the town. Salvaged goods brought
in from Reykjavík by Pólar were
complemented, even outshined,
by the contributions of the locals.
Friday’s potluck was followed up on
Saturday by a mid-day rhubarb feast
in one local’s backyard. That evening
a group of local fisherman cut and
grilled 140 kilos of fresh fish that
they had caught that morning, with
the helping hands of about twelve
festival attendees. The fish feast
was accompanied by stuffed grilled
peppers from Reykjavík and heaps
of fresh salad prepared by Inga’s
herb group. Creamy moss soup
and sugar-filled pancakes sweetly
capped the weekend.
As the sun comes out and the
crowd scatters to the town below,
Inga unfolds a patio chair and sits
down next to me. She is very happy
with the festival. "Reykjavík comes in
with the music and the art and every-
thing, and we come in with what we
know; I collect herbs, the fisherman
come in with the fish..." she trails off
and closes her eyes in the beam-
ing sun. "So good—the weather,
the people, the food, so good," she
repeats in perfect content, and then
dismisses herself to clean the dishes
and join her sister inside the old
church.
Magnús Andersen
Magnús Andersen