Reykjavík Grapevine - jún. 2021, Blaðsíða 22

Reykjavík Grapevine - jún. 2021, Blaðsíða 22
Reflectin! On A Moment 'Apausalypse' captures philosophers, musicians, and dancers at a standstill Words: Brittnee Kiner Photos: Art Bicnick & 'Apausalypse' Our contemporary idea of the word ‘Apocalypse’ describes an inescap- able end; for example, for many, COVID-19 brought an end to hu- manity as we understood it—a so- cietal apocalypse. However, such a designation is narrow in its per- spective and ‘Apausalypse’, the new documentary by directors Andri Snær Magnason and Anni Ólafs- dóttir reveals the true origins of this word, as it explores the great pause that enveloped the world due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This unfolding of society over 2020 led Andri Snær and Anni to the name for the film. Visual artist Haraldur Jónsson, who is featured in the film, told the two that the Greek word ‘Apocalypse’ originally meant to uncover something. So contrary to last year symboliz- ing an ending—a modern apoca- lypse—the film instead suggests that it could signify the unveiling of a world that had long been buried by the strains of humankind. As so- ciety struggled to find its footing, earth was able to find its breath again. Capturing the pause While all opportunities seemed to have faded amid the global lock- down from COVID-19, Andri Snær and Anni allowed art to persevere. They hoped to capture this mo- ment in time through the nation’s best storytellers, such as photogra- pher Ragnar Axelsson, poet Elísa- bet Jökulsdóttir and professor of philosophy Sigrí!ur "orgeirsdót- tir, gaining a philosophical and theoretical deep-dive before any of these creative thinkers had time to process the unfolding of the world around them. “Our intentions were to make a work of art when almost every- thing was impossible,” Andri Snær asserted, speaking to the limita- tions they faced. When asked about the status of restrictions, Anni explained that “Everything was closed” but nonetheless, the pair travelled around Iceland. They en- gaged in conversations from a dis- tance—through living room win- dows or metres away in cars. The two set out with no idea where the conversations would lead them— they talked indiscriminately with subjects, developing the narrative of the ‘Apausealypse’ as they went. When asked about how they chose which individuals to interview, Andri Snær admitted “We didn’t know if they would be the ones” but that regardless of what came of the words exchanged, they would maintain historical significance. Occasionally overlooked victims of the pandemic include kids— withdrawn from social situations and experiences that shape their character. In one scene of the film, a couple’s eight year old son had not been in school for several weeks, and it did not take long for him to express the suppressed emotions of confusion and isolation felt by children across the world. The boy took a seat at the bench of the pia- no, stabbing at the keys as he sang with rage against the virus. Return, release & reflect In the film’s closing, images of an empty airport and a car-less Reyk- javík flash across the screen. Hints of desolation and sorrow pervade, carried by the gentle notes of mu- sician Ásta Fanney Sigur!ardót- tir, while a poem is read aloud de- scribing the resurgence of nature that was seen around the world. With the suspension of societal consequences, it explains, came notions of peace and tranquility unfounded in a century of haste. While the film does not explicitly highlight the revival of nature, An- dri explains that “It is about global warming but in more subtle ways.” Wishfully, he asks “If we can stop for a virus and protect the elderly, can we protect the future?” The global community has been trapped in a perpetual cycle of healing, yearning for a day of re- lief and release. “Immediately, we will not learn anything but, in the long run, we will look at this as a really significant milestone in how we understand the economy, ecol- ogy, [and] society,” Andri adds. And thus, a piece such as ‘Apausalypse’ serves as a sobering reminder of the places that we have been and the places we are to go if we can- not fully reflect on the pause that allowed the earth to experience a degree of recovery. As Anni con- cludes, “We so easily forget.” A still from 'Apausalypse' Andri Snær & Anni, social distancing from our photographer Film THE SWEETEST CENTURY Since opening our bakery in 1920, we have constantly pushed the boundaries of tradi- tional Icelandic baking methods. Find us in the heart of Reykjavík serving piping hot, fresh pastries made from scratch, every morning from seven-thirty AM. Not a sweet tooth? That’s OK. Come by for a savory brunch or taste one of our homemade sodas or craft beers. Laugavegur 36, 101 Reykjavík www.sandholt.is EST. 1920

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