Atlantica - 01.06.2011, Síða 18

16 A t L A n t i c A
“For a long time, I had been heading towards a dead end. I had grown
tired of knowing what my painting would look like before I began,
and of doing what was expected of me,” explains Gunnlaugsdóttir.
“Of course I’m always grateful for selling my work, but the joy of creativity was
subsiding. Therefore, I decided to do something completely different, even if
it obviously meant a huge financial risk. I had no idea what I wanted to do. It
took courage, but then again, courage comes because you don’t see any other
way out. In fact, making a change is necessary for every artist. To stand on a
cliff, throw yourself off it and try to find your wings. It doesn’t happen instantly,
you slam into the edge of the rocks, you get hurt, lose your self-confidence,
cry and moan. The 2008 crisis was very invigorating. Surviving as a single
mother and artist has always been a struggle but in the wake of the crisis,
my world was also falling apart in my personal life, going through a divorce. I
decided to harness this energy—I demanded of myself to tell the whole truth. “
Despite appearing so utterly different, Gunnlaugsdóttir’s older and newer
works are in fact two sides of the same coin. “My artistic creation has always
revolved around being in touch with one’s nature; embracing and manifesting
the unfettered power that lives within us; the power of the subconscious. I
create from my personal, female point of view, drawing from my own reality. I
wish for my art that it always contains great joy and energy. Before, I focused
on the spiritual and dreamlike, whereas these works address the mundane and
the carnal, showing unfettered and raw feminine power. This time I wanted to
peel away the layers and expose the core. I was very tempted by the canvas,
that bland, rough everyday material with an earthy quality. The same goes
for the yarn. They both are an integral part of the woman’s world I want to
celebrate. So many things don’t get properly acknowledged, including the
homemade and the hand-sewn. This gave me tremendous freedom because
I could resume drawing, one of my strongholds, which I had neglected.
Here, I’m also addressing taboos by flaunting women’s exploration of
their libido, how they experience themselves in that moment of power
and control, as an objection to presenting standard preconceived notions.
Some people get embarrassed when seeing women’s genitals trans-
formed into a flower, whereas to me it is natural and normal. However,
shocking and embarrassing others wasn’t my goal. I simply refused to
To say that Kristín Gunnlaugsdóttir’s latest artwork is striking
would be an understatement. Her raw, sexually charged
images of naked women, sewn with yarn on fencing
canvas, are a shocking departure from her dreamlike,
detailed paintings inspired by the iconography
tradition. She told Ásta Andrésdóttir the
reasons for the drastic change.
on the fly
In the Name of
the Rose