Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.06.2018, Side 2

First 10: Jacqueline Boxx, Burlesque Star 12: Meet Sanna14: Dodgy Goings On In Tourism18: Spessi's 111 Show
25: Golden Boots
Gylfi
27: Iceland's Path To
World Cup Glory
35: Kira Kira
36: Geisha Cartel
48: Welcome To
Grandi Mathöll
50: Exploring The Big
Earth At Stórurð
52: We Go Literally
Swimming In Beer
ON THE COVER:
Aron Einar "The
Annihilator" Gunnarsson
COVER PHOTO:
Baldur Kristjánsson
www.baldurkristjans.is
MAKEUP:
Fjóla Valdís Bjarnadóttir
SPECIAL THANKS:
Snorri Barón
ABOUT THE PICTURE:
We caught Aron, the
captain of the Iceland
football team, in fine
and confident form
before heading out to
Russia.
Alice Demurtas is
from Sardinia, but
moved to Iceland in
2012. She worked in
fashion journalism
for four years before
moving on to culture
and news.
An avid reader of
anything by Zadie
Smith, Alice can’t
function without
coffee. She also loves
to fall asleep to the
sound of crinkly
paper.
Elín Elísabet is an illus-
trator and cartoonist
born and raised in
Borgarnes. At the
tender age of 15, Elín
moved to Reykjavík
and hasn’t looked
back, except for the
annual springtime
impulse to move
someplace quiet
and keep chickens.
Elín likes folk music,
stationery, seal vid-
eos, the country of
Ireland, and eggs.
John Rogers an
Englishman who first
joined us as a music
writer, later graduat-
ing to Managing
Editor. A constant
traveller, a lover of
art, culture, food and
nightlife, he edits
our Best of Reykjavík,
Best of Iceland and
Iceland Airwaves
sister publications.
His first book, “Real
Life,” was published
in 2014.
Hannah Jane is
based out of Iceland
by way of NYC. An
alumnus of Columbia
University, Hannah
has lived on five con-
tinents and speaks
three languages
fluently, which is
very impressive. Her
visionary work is
known for expand-
ing the definitions of
emotion, introspec-
tion, and above all
else, taste.
Juliana Iluminata Wil-
czynski is a Brazilian-
American university
student. Her love of
the Icelandic lan-
guage led her to
Iceland for the first
time in 2016. Some-
how at age 21, she
kinda sorta lives in
five countries at the
same time. She loves
obscure linguistics
facts, samba, and a
good bloody mary.
Sveinbjörn Pálsson
is our Art Director.
He's responsible for
the design of the
magazine and the
cover photography.
When he's not work-
ing here, he DJs as
Terrordisco, hosts
the Funkþátturinn
radio show, or sits
at a table in a Rey-
kjavik café, drinking
copious amounts of
coffee and thinking
about fonts.
Þorsteinn Davíðsson,
a notorious graf-
fiti artist, graphic
designer and a hell of
a layout guy. He’s the
only man in town that
knows who’s behind
every badly drawn
tag you can find on a
wall or a pillar-box in
the city. He’s a fam-
ily man with a dark
streak but some say
he is a dark streak
with a sense of
responsibility.
Paul Fontaine, News
Editor Originally from
Baltimore, Paul has
lived in Iceland since
1999. He was also
the first foreign-
born member of the
Icelandic Parliament,
an experience he
highly recommends
for anyone who
wants to experience
a workplace where
colleagues work tire-
lessly to undermine
each other.
Lóa Hlín Hjálmtýsdót-
tir is a national treas-
ure. One of Iceland's
leading illustrators,
when she's not
drawing she's the
front-woman of
Icelandic electro-
pop supergroup FM
Belfast. Her comic
strip Lóabratorium
appears every issue
on page eight, and
is also available as
a daily dose on her
Twitter.

Go Smite Yourself!
We live in a time of
dissolution. Social
media has created
a repressive divide
between people,
countries, genders,
and even family
members. We can
all feel this. We’re
all sick and tired of this constant feud;
of the repetitive debates about PC-ism,
and the gulf between people's perceptions
of their society. Many have chosen to be
silent on social media, lurking around and
watching others screaming at each other
in a pointless debate about… whatever.

Many of us have lost faith in our our govern-
ment, our society, and the forgetting of
our universal humanity; that everybody
feels love at some point, and anger, and
happiness. Sometimes we forget that
everything that you feel in your own heart,
someone else has felt before, or is having
exactly the same experience at the same
time as you are. Even those who you’re
debating with so fiercely on the internet.
It’s easy to forget this common
ground. That’s also a part of universal
humanity—to think that you are alone.

Icelanders have now, like many other
countries, a unique opportunity to unite
again. As a nation as well as humans.
Our national football team has gone to
Russia. And maybe they’ll lose all of their
games—but it doesn't matter. Because for
these few weeks, we will scream, shout, and
celebrate as one nation. We’ll probably hug
the guy next to us at the bar when Iceland
scores, and we’ll cry together when we don’t.
We will do the tacky HÚH! move without
cringing. And we will sing that unsingable
Icelandic anthem like a goddamn pro.
We will be a part of something impor-
tant. The whole world will be united,
for one month. Because football is not
only a game—it’s this universal feel-
ing, that finally, we are whole again.

FROM THE EDITOR
Valur Grettisson