Guðný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir | Brussels, Belgium
Guðný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir
comme ça louise ?
76 avenue Franklin Roosevelt, 1050 Brussels (Ixelles)
September 7th – September 16th, 2018
Opening on Tuesday September the 4th, 18:00 – 21:00
For its third opus, Sound by Visual has invited Ice- landic artist Gu∂ny Rósa Ingimarsdóttir.
The vinyl pressing revives a work from 2005 based on the poem “tíminn og vatni∂” (“Time and Water”) written in 1948 by poet Stein Steinarr.
The audio recording imparts the reading of this poem in an English translation by a young girl who did not master the language.
This adaptation of the 2005 sound work takes the title
“ comme ça louise ? ” ( “ that way louise ? ” ) and 280 copies of it were published, numbered and signed, with an original intervention by the artist on each inner sleeve.
The insert was printed using risography on Fedrigoni Materica Lmestone 180gr paper.
The sleeve was printed using Letterpress.
« she sees through it already
she knows that stones can break
they -can explode from the inside
go through others on their way to colo- nise.
she knows she stole some parts of me she knows i am desperately trying to repair what she left me she knows i love you
she depends on it. »
Twenty extra copies were produced with external sleeves each of which is an original creation.
Born 1969 Reykjavík (IC). lives and works in Brussel (B)
In his most renowned essay, Concerning the Spiritual in Art (Über das Geistige in der Kunst), Russian artist Vassily Kandinsky writes about the possibility of perceiving vi-
sual art in a similar way as we perceive music, and proposes that we can view colors and shapes in a painting in the same way as we listen to the sound and tones in a musical com- position. They do not give us a predetermined picture of anything objective, but rather offer us an experience through composition, rhythm and texture.
The essay in question was written by Kandinsky in 1911 and is actually pedagogical. It was written to explain certain basic laws of art and teach us to look non objectively at
an artwork. For that the author compared paintings with music, since music was already recognized as an abstract form of art. Kandinsky supported his theories of painting with the language of music and explained paintings with words like “improvisation”, “compo- sition” and “rhythm”. Colors in a painting got musical structure as overtones and under- tones, and he even went so far as to name colors after instruments. Yellow was a trumpet, red was a cello etcetera. Black and white colors were, however, not instruments., They were silent. Black, according to Kandinsky, is the end silence like when a musical compo- sition is finished. But white is “the harmony of silence”, like silence between two notes, or silence that takes part in the rhythm of the music.
From silence comes creation. Silence is the artist’s playground. Both the painter who attacks the white primed canvas with colors and shapes and the composer who fills the air with harmonic sounds want to cover the silence. Although, as American composer John Cage rightly pointed out, one never hears absolute silence. At least not when one listens to it. There are always some sounds to be heard. The silence between two notes is in that sense not silent, no more than the color white is invisible.
John Cage is known for using silence in music to draw attention to sound. But he is also known for using words and texts for similar purposes. For example, his famous Roarato- rio: An Irish Circus on Finnegan Wake is composed of environmental sounds and words. The spoken words become the melody while environmental sounds become improvisa- tions around the melody. The words are abstract, like colors in a painting, they do not give a predetermined picture.
The same can apply to texts in visual art. A text can give a predetermined picture but it can also be abstract. And that is certainly a way we can read it in the otherwise faceted
art works of Guðný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir, because even though the text is composed of words and symbols, it acts as a melody that passes through like an acoustic drawing on a silent surface.
Jón B. K. Ransu 2017
If we where to presume that there is one fundamental base for all disciplines of the visual arts and design, we would have to look towards drawing. The architect draws his first stage of a building, just as any designed object has been constructed from the drawing board. Even a magazine or a poster has been organized by a graphic designer through laws of drawing. There is in fact little, if anything, constructed in the visual arts and design, that doesn ́t have its roots in drawing.
Since the beginning of modernism visual artist have struggled with understanding the essence of their medium, such as drawing and painting. In their explorations they are motivated by the existential need to understand the nature of things. And even though such a philosophical question may not be verbally in their mind as they craft their art, it is, never the less, a driving force for the artist in his quest for knowledge in his art.
Guðný Rósa Ingimarsdóttir is an artist who explores the essence of drawing. It may not be clear to us, at first, whether to view her pictures as object reality or abstrac- tions. Often they seem like drawings of nerves or tissues that criss-cross over each other or some microscophic cells that swim in bodily fluids. Perhaps one can see
a glimpse of an organ or two, if ones imagination wanders in that direction, and some images may even lead us to a body of thoughts, since the artist works with patterns and text. Witch ever it may be, we are made to believe that the artist is por- traying an infrastructure a body. The question is; what body is she drawing?
Let ́s suppose that a drawing is more than just a two-dimensional picture, just like the human body is more than just a three-dimensional form. The body has an in- credibly complex biological system that is as incomprehensible to us as it is won- derful.
In that way I see Guðný Rósa ́s pictures. She is like a biologist that digs into the layers of the drawing. She cuts its flesh, wounds it, makes it bleed and sews it back together in order to get closer to its essence. Each picture or image becomes a part of an organic system and geometric structure of the drawing. We are then confronted with an infrastructure of a body. And it is the body drawing itself.
Jón B. K. Ransu 2013