Following people and drinking milk

An exhibition consisting of works by contemporary Icelandic artists from different generations which deal with humour and irony some in a satorical manner. In many pieces one can find satorical humour, intelligent or irrational jokes.  The keytone of existence is a harmless joke' said writer Þorbergur Þórðarson in his book Letter to Laura but he considered it a good quality in people if they were able to see the funny sides of life. 

Humour is a complicated cultural phenomenon which is hard to pinpoint, describe or define. The curator is Kristín Dagmar Jóhannesdóttir. In connection with the exhibition there will be seminars and lectures in collaboration with the Icelandic Centre for Ethnology and Folklore.


The following artists will have an art work on display: Ásta Ólafsdóttir, Darri Lorenzen, Erling T.V. Klingenberg, Eva Ísleifsdóttir, Geirþrúður Finnbogadóttir Hjörvar, Gjörningaklúbburinn,  Hallgrímur Helgason, Ilmur Stefánsdóttir, Sara Björnsdóttir, Sigurður Guðmundsson, Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson, Snorri Ásmundsson, Unndór Egill Jónsson, Magnús Pálsson, Steingrímur Eyfjörð, Egill Sæbjörnson, Ásmundur Ásmundsson, Stefán Jónsson og Þórður Ben Sveinsson.

We will never arrive at a firm definition of the mysterious, common human feeling that we call a sense of humour. The nature of humour is to disrupt experience and catch us by surprise. It sparks an impulse in our minds and follows neural pathways governing our urges and affections. If humour engages its recipient and finds its natural outlet, it triggers an involuntary physical response: if all goes well, we surprise even ourselves with the sound of our own laughter.

Following People and Drinking Milk gathers works by different generations of Icelandic artists whose presentation or idiom skews convention and thereby taps into this phenomenon, humour. Humour has consistently been used in contemporary art across the world. The works of diverse artists present many types of humour, from razor-sharp wit and satire to intellectual mockery and absurdism. Being both a relative and a culturally-charged phenomenon, humour deflects all attempts at precise classification. Although it is universal among human beings and a characteristic of our family in the animal kingdom, humour is so individual that there is no possible way to pin it down. Thus it is of little avail to set out to try to define or explain humour; indeed this may wither it, or even dry it up. Humour is an aesthetic concept in that a sense of amusement derives from human temperament and personal taste, which is governed primarily by individual experience and by social and emotional outlook. The present exhibition is therefore not intended as a comprehensive overview of this theme in the Icelandic context, but rather as a sketch of its characteristics.

The title of the exhibition is drawn from Sigurður Guðmundsson’s 1972 work Poem (Following People and Drinking Milk) which, like his Poem, Horse and Reading of the same year, presents a play on words, a manifestation of their literal meaning. Guðmundsson’s text-piece Sculpture shifts the action into the viewer’s imagination via a nursery rhyme: “Take snuff and spin around, that’s what old men do.” The simple lyricism of these works evokes childlike amusement; they date from early in Guðmundsson’s period of staging such works for his photographic series Situations. Guðmundsson’s work splits our view of reality, broadening our angle on things that formerly have seemed cut and dried.
Magnús Pálsson and Steingrímur Eyfjörð have both consistently drawn on Icelandic sagas and folklore in their work. Eyfjörð uses various modes of presentation to bring heightened sagas down to an everyday level. Pálsson’s work Lightcabinet (1977) is a monument to the popular tales of Gísli, Eiríkur, and Helgi, the foolish brothers from Bakki farm, alluding to their attempt to carry light into their house in buckets. Þórður Ben Sveinsson’s Good Morning (1969) is near the spirit of the Fluxus movement; Sveinsson, Pálsson and Guðmundsson all pertain to the generation of Icelandic artists associated with the SÚM group. Avant-garde artists of the 1970s employed humour in their work just as older contrarian art movements such as Surrealism and Dada had done in the years after World War I. Humour functions as a means of challenging values in every era of society and the art world.


Artists have both consciously and unconsciously set out to exploit humour’s propensity to describe social and political complexities or philosophical conundrums. “The keynote of existence is a bit of fun,” writes Þorbergur Þórðarson in his Letter to Laura; for him, the ability to see things in a comical light is merciful reprieve. Using the appeal of humour, artists can nudge the viewer’s thought processes, dislodging preconceptions of the material at hand. Such methods are clearly apropos to Icelandic society in 2010. The satire of the Best Party’s victory in this year’s mayoral elections has turned the political landscape upside-down. Through comic controversy, the party has managed to bring hope to the hearts of a jaded public. Artist Snorri Ásmundsson has twice leapt into the fray of Icelandic politics, using methods not unlike those used by Best-Party Mayor Jón Gnarr in launching this year’s campaign; Snorri Ásmundsson established the Left, Right, Turn Party in 2002 and in 2004 ran for president.
The Iceland Love Corporation’s video work Dynasty was created for the United Nations World Environment Day 2007 as part of the exhibition Envisioning Change, and offers an amusing take on the debate on global warming. Unndór Egill Jónsson’s photographic work 7000W alludes to a similar context of nature, humanity, and energy use. Originating as a live event in a Norwegian prison, 7000W examines freedom and captivity and the imagination’s yearning to alter circumstance. Ásta Ólafsdóttir’s piece reflects her gender-political views: we see Chairman Mao in the guise of a woman folk hero, Captain Þuríður (1777 – 1863), who was most famous for captaining a fishing boat. We are left wondering about the Chairman’s right to his title; which personage was, in truth, the more noteworthy?


Humour does not always lie on the surface; its meaning may cut deeper, as in the works of Ásmundur Ásmundsson, who will reveal a new outdoor sculpture at the opening of the exhibition. Asmundsson is known for whimsical yet incisive social criticism conveyed through artwork, writings, and public speeches. Often as not in an ironic mode, his work ponders the ideological and institutional frameworks of culture, uniting polar opposites of high- and lowbrow culture, that which is deemed tasteful and also the tasteless.


The variety of humour known as nonsense is not actually nonsensical. It stretches and twists our rationalism and our understanding of existence. Nonsense conveys humour through absurdity, as the works of Ilmur Stefánsdóttir demonstrate. Stefánsdóttir makes a game of logical error, giving mundane objects new roles in her work, which has lately found new purpose in the theatre. In Egill Sæbjörnsson’s work, Eraser and Ruler (2010), the game gets all the more fantastical, as the logic of behaviour and the nature of objects is thrown to the four winds. Stefán Jónsson’s landscape piece alludes to art-historical tradition, yet his treatment of that tradition lends an exalted value to common toys.


Erling T. V. Klingenberg has toyed with the idea of the artist and the mystique that envelops the artist’s role and status, using himself as material for his works, often in an unsettlingly grandiose way. Yet self-obsession slants into mockery, as My Mind Makes Money (2005) illustrates. Sara Björnsdóttir’s piece, I Wish I Was a World Famous Artist (2004), presents frank truth grounded in cold irony and satire. In the same vein, Eva Ísleifsdóttir presents a play on an image, posing as the Virgin Mary in a theatrical yet clichéd manner that deepens mystique and ambiguity. Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson is known for succinct performances poking fun at personal anxiety, worry, and dread by means of overblown reactions. Hallgrímur Helgason employs barbed humour in both his visual art and his writing. In his series about Grim, his alter-ego of sorts, he lavishes humour on both himself and others, on our common clay feet, without cracking a smile; ideal circumstances take on a melancholy air while in undesirable circumstances Grim asks, “How are you doing?”


Contemporary artists often leave it to the viewer to construe works that go beyond the bounds of traditional aesthetic values. Darri Lorenzen grapples with the notion of viewer participation and a gallery experience that may hinge on just finding the work in the space. Similarly, Geirþrúður Finnbogadóttir Hjörvar’s, The Obvious, performed only at the exhibition opening, is meant to alert us to that which is obvious yet may go undetected. Humour can sneak up on us, even slip right by us, if we don’t catch on to it.

It may leave us with a pleasant redolence or for that matter a foul taste, but a sense of humour is sometimes the sense most key to our recognizing what stands before our eyes.

Kristín Dagmar Jóhannesdóttir
curator