Reykjavík Grapevine - 13.09.2019, Blaðsíða 20

20 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16— 2019
Being born
into it
Acting has always been a part of Ágús-
ta’s life, even if she wasn’t aware of it
at first.
"I think it was a kind of state of
spirit that I was born into,” she says. “I
was always singing and drawing, and
mucking around. Plus, my mom was
always singing and dancing with us,
and my dad is an artist. So it's kind of
what I was born into."
Her family took a liberal approach
to how they raised her, giving her the
freedom to find her own way. "I was
never pressured by people asking me
what I was going to be when I grew
up, whether a doctor or whatever.
That wasn't a part of my mindframe
to decide anything. I've always been
in a state of flow, so to speak, so there
wasn't anything I decided on being or
becoming for a job. It just kind of devel-
oped in a natural, flowing way."
Nonetheless, Ágústa found herself
drawn to acting, in a purely organic
fashion.
"As a child, you're always playing
and acting pretend. That was a thing
we used to do a lot when I was a kid;
tricking and spying on people. Like
pretending to be blind or something
in front of tourists, or pretending to be
wounded. Also, prank phone calls. That
was a lot of fun. I never thought about
as 'acting'. I never went to the theatre.
I saw movies, but I was never really
captured by people acting or stardom,
because we were brought up with that
mentality that everybody is equal, so
we didn't really idolize anyone.”
Kill your idols
This final point is important to Ágústa
on a personal level. She believes there
has been a kind of cultural shift in
Iceland; where once the likes of Bobby
Fischer or Damon Albarn could walk
the streets of Reykjavík without so
much as a second glance, Iceland has
more recently begun to get hooked on
celebrity culture.
"I think that's really unhealthy,” she
says. “The average person's self-esteem
goes down if you think someone is
more important than you are. We're
all equal. You'd never pick a favourite
amongst your children." She worked
for a time as a kindergarten teacher,
which deepened this conviction. "I love
all kids. That's what you learn from
being a teacher. You can see the beauty
in everybody, no matter how difficult
the kids are. You can love every child
as much, and I think that's the same
thing with people. You can't measure
people's worth in something as shal-
low as being famous. Because anyone
can become famous in Iceland if you're
stubborn enough."
Guiding light
Ágústa’s first film audition—for the
Hrafn Gunnlaugsson film Hin helgu
vé—took place when she was 10 years
old. She advanced pretty far in the
auditions—part of which, inexplicably,
involved pretending to be a cat and a
dog—until her parents read the script.
“They were like 'No way' and I said
'Why not?' and they said 'You'll thank
us when you're older', and they were
right,” she says with a laugh. “It had a
lot of nudity and killing, kids watching
people have sex. Just a bit disturbing
for a 10-year-old to take part in. So we
didn't do that.”
When she was 17, she took part in a
photoshoot for a hairdressing compe-
tition that her friend was competing
in, when a photographer approached
her, offering her to take part in a group
of people travelling to New York to
take part in the Modeling Association
of America International competition.
This time in New York included tryouts
for soap opera acting, which she took
part in more as a lark than anything
else.
"I had a prepared text, for a scene
where I was breaking up with a guy,
and I decided I'd mindfuck him; just
confuse him and make him uncomfort-
able,” Ágústa says. “That was my aim:
just to play. Not acting. It was really far
from me. So I went in, played a bit with
his mind and had fun, and I ended up
in the second place, and invited me to
come live in New York and act in soap
operas. I was like, 'What? No, I'm 17. I'm
not going to move to New York and act
in soap operas, are you crazy?"
Up on a stage
This same hairdresser friend also
introduced her to amateur theatre; in
this instance, Leikfélag Kópavogs.
"I had a really good director, Ágústa
Skúladóttir,” she says. “She kind
of changed my life. At first, it was
awkward to stand on a chair and give a
recital. But then she allowed us to make
our own characters, and I was there for
three years just having fun and making
things. It's really easy to dare me into
doing things."
Ágústa would end up spending
three years of her life in this theatre,
an experience which, while educational
and rewarding, was also gruelling.
"I have a great love of creating
things, but when you're in theatre, your
creative process is not as big. It's very
easy to be overworked in theatre. I like
things that you can look back on, like
movies—you make a product and it's
there and it's always there. But theatre
stays in your heart and soul, and if
it's good enough it makes a difference