Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.08.2018, Blaðsíða 33

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His collection of paintings
and sculptures developed and
grew over the years as he en-
thusiastically set about this
new task. Samúel’s ambition
seemed to know no bounds.
After he designed an altarpiece
that was rejected by the church
at Selárdalur, he simply built a
church of his own to house it;
his sculptures of people and
wildlife mushroomed around
his home to include a fountain
surrounded by colourful, car-
toonish lions. The house itself
also later received a colourful
makeover, and Samúel picked
up a nickname: “Listamaðurinn
með barnshjartið,” or “The art-
ist with a child’s heart.”
Into disrepair
After his death, this artist’s
farmstead started to deterio-
rate. Selárdalur is lashed by un-
forgiving Arctic weather in the
winter, and without Samúel’s
presence, the sculptures became
worn to the point at which it
seemed they might disintegrate.
The fountain stopped work-
ing, and the house and church
slipped into disrepair.
So it was that in 1998, a com-
pany was started to protect
and preserve his oeuvre. A film
about Samúel’s life and work
was released in 1999, which
brought some new attention to
the crumbling museum, and in
the Spring of 2004, restoration
work began. A German sculptor
named Gerhard König led the
restoration work, supervising
teams of volunteers over several
summers to renovate the build-
ings and restore the sculptures
to their former glory.
Powerfully pure
The cluster of buildings that
make up the museum are a strik-
ing sight as we roll around the
final bend and arrive at Selárda-
lur. They stand perched in a field
near the ocean, a spot of colour
amongst the rough, rol ling
farmland and vast mountains.
Although it’s May, Iceland is still
struggling to make the transi-
tion from Winter into Spring.
We pull up and walk over to the
farm, and the icy grass crunches
beneath our boots. I pause for
a moment to take in the view:
there isn’t another another soul
in sight, the air is crisp and cold,
and the surrounding natural
environment feels powerfully
pure.
The church door is left on
the latch. Much of Samúel’s
work has been removed for safe
keeping, but there are water-
proofed prints of his paintings
on the walls. There are several
photographs of Samúel at work,
and a couple of architectural
maquettes—grand visions that
were never realised, perhaps.
A break in
the clouds
The scu lpt ures themselves
stand clustered behind the
colourful museum building,
which is locked for the Winter.
The lion fountain is turned off,
but a plastic pipe coils away to-
wards the house; Gerhard got it
working again, eventually, and
it’s turned on when the summer
visitors arrive. One sculpture is
of a tall man looking into the
distance and shielding his eyes
from the sun. A break in the
churning clouds occurs right on
cue, casting a shadow over the
sculpture’s face, as if he might
spring to life and turn away at
any moment.
Nearby, a small duck sculp-
ture carries ducklings on its
back next to a man feeding fish
to a tame seal. The lions have
spiky whiskers made from wire,
and a knee-high blue seahorse
sits to attention. They’re play-
ful ly naive and beautiful ly
stylised cartoonish representa-
tions of Samúel’s environment,
his life, and his visions, and each
one brings a smile to my face.
We linger for a long time,
snapping photographs and tak-
ing it all in. An information
plaque tells us that the farm-
house is being rebuilt, and will
one day hold a living space for
visiting artists and scholars.
As we finally head back to-
wards Bildudalur, I’m struck
by Samúel’s unlikely legacy.
His museum stands as a proud
monument to the simple joys of
making art, and with the ongo-
ing restoration efforts of its de-
termined team of protectors, his
work will continue to bring joy
and inspiration for generations
still to come.
“A break in the clouds occurs
right on cue, casting a shadow
over the sculpture’s face, as if
he might spring to life at any
moment.”