Interview: Anna Júlía Friðbjörnsdóttir

In
2021 Anna’s installation Phosphoros was in the exhibition Iðavöllur: Icelandic Art
in the 21st Century at the Reykjavik Art Museum – Hafnarhús. Iðavöllur, exhibited
a group of young artists considered to have been influential in the Icelandic art
scene. Friðbjörnsdóttir drew inspiration from mythology, chemistry, natural phenomena
and even cave paintings. Phosphoros was a new work made for the exhibition and consisted
of wall drawings, beads, a soundscape and ultraviolet lighting. An installation
shot of Phosphoros was the cover image for the 2nd edition of the Icelandic art
magazine titled “Art in Iceland “.

I
acquired bone ash from an aluminium factory in Iceland, and the installation revolves
around this material. The ash has been used for centuries in working metal, ceramics
and porcelain, then referred to as Bone China.

The
title of the piece came from thinking about the myth of Phosphoros, the Greek mythical
creature that goes under the name of Lucifer in Latin but literally, it means “bearer
of light”. The same story in various cultures comes from the same astrological source,
the course of Venus.

To
me, the bone ash represents the mineral phosphorus. When the mineral was discovered,
it was named phosphorus because it exhibits the phenomenon of luminescence, hence
“bearer of light “. For instance, your teeth illuminate in ultraviolet light because
they contain phosphorus. Phosphorus sustains all life; however, it is mainly used
industrially in agriculture as a fertiliser. Sadly, when it is taken out of its
natural cycle, it becomes extremely pollutant. So, in a larger context, it’s an
example of a finite resource that’s being abused.

The
only source of light in the exhibition space of Phosphoros was blacklight. Visitors’
eyes would slowly adjust to the light, and then the wall drawings became clear.
The luminous drawings seemed almost three-dimensional. Accompanying the installation
was a solemn soundscape, and strings of beads hung from the ceiling to the floor
at a few places.

The
space I was allocated for the work was long and narrow, and I got a cave-like feeling
from it, so I decided to go with it. I had been thinking of making chalk to use
in wall drawings which then made me think of cave paintings. I wanted to create
an atmosphere of a ritualistic scene or at least a site of an ambiguous situation.

To
underline the properties of the bone ash, I decided only to use blacklight in the
space to accentuate the theme of the light which runs throughout the work. The iconography
of the work contains trees, solar panels of space probes and satellites. These two
phenomena, organic and mechanical, produce energy from sunlight through organic
or technical processes. I drew inspiration from the cave drawings in the composition
of the two, making up clusters on the walls of the space.

I
also used the bone ash to make beads kneaded by hand. These were then threaded onto
strings and suspended from the ceiling. The rows of beads systematically form a
morse code and spell out numerical data of gravity, light speed and the Kármán line;
the distance from Earth to outer space.

The
soundscape is a recording from NASA of Venus’s electromagnetic field, converted
to sound, as there is no sound in space itself.

The
installation challenges the viewer’s senses with the limited light in the space
and the solemn soundscape. The overall installation has a feeling of ambiguity.

The
blacklight has the practical function of making the drawings visible. But in addition,
they create the illusion of a 3D effect as the different thicknesses of the chalk
react differently to the light. Which I liked because it strengthened the disorientating
effect of the installation, especially whilst the eyes were adjusting to the low
light condition. On the other hand, the black light also creates a sort of science
lab mood, insinuating that the site could be under scientific examination. In addition
to this, the soundscape makes everything a little bit unsettling and uncanny.

I
am thinking about our current situation and how humanity has altered some natural
cycles and intervened in nature’s ecosystems. Phosphoros is referencing all of this
and our overemphasis on endless growth. It’s very unclear what the setting is –
are we located in the future looking at remains from the present, or is it today,
or maybe just a film set? It excites me to mess with the timeline – or perhaps our
perception of time, past and future, primitive and modern, and juxtaposing scientific
data and decorative motifs.

Recently,
Anna Júlía opened her first solo exhibition abroad at Gallery Gudmundsdottir
in Berlin. The exhibition titled Last Season – consisted of four sculptures and
works on paper. The work’s subjects came from a vast array, from astrology to the
fashion industry.

The
exhibition title is a nod to the fashion industry and a pun in the context of the
exhibition’s ideas. I also liked it for its apocalyptic tone. All the artworks have
fashion-related titles: Pre-fall, Runway, Silhouette. I prefer to set myself a limited
frame of reference when working on an exhibition. Otherwise, I’m all over the place.

I
am thinking a lot about time and our perception of time. I envisioned the exhibition
with two axes, a horizontal one for time and a vertical spatial axe. I suggest our
navigational stargazing on the one hand and deep sea research on the other, both
unexplored territories.

I’ve
been preoccupied with the concepts of orientation and navigation, literally and
symbolically, and where we are headed in the future as a whole. It also relates
to our connection to natural cycles. In Iceland, we are still quite in tune with
our environment, but our relationship with the natural environment is changing.
The seasons have also changed and will probably never be like they used to be. So,
all the artworks I made for Last Season are related to these concepts and concerns.

Three
sculptures are based on bones of extinct or endangered animal species. Two are 3D
reproductions of a rib and a shoulder blade of the North Atlantic right whale, made
in 1:1 size in polyurethane, and then one is a plaster cast of a walrus tusk.

I
knew of research being made by the Icelandic Museum of Natural History on the North
Atlantic right whale, which is highly endangered. The museum has access to a whale
skeleton, believed to have been killed in the latter half of the 19th Century on
Iceland’s shores and is now preserved in Denmark. They scanned the bones and made
a perfect 3D model, which I knew I wanted to use. I chose two bones, the large spatula
bone and the smallest rib, and had reproductions done in Berlin. I was inspired
by traditional Icelandic whale bone carvings of Christian motifs as well as the
Inuit’s painted tusks with animal and hunting scenes. The standard industrial material
(polyurethane) is perfect for carving and sticking ornaments into, and I also liked
the odd pink colour of it. 

The
whale will probably go extinct in our lifetimes, leaving our ecosystem prematurely.
This whale species was hunted around Iceland’s shores a few centuries ago by other
nations than Iceland. Today, it is rarely seen around Iceland and is only found
around North America’s coasts. The last time I checked, there were only 350 whales
left. Ship traffic causes sound pollution, collisions, and whales get tangled in
fishing nets. During the exhibition, we told guests how the oil extracted from the
whales was used to light up Europe.

The
walrus tusk cast was made from a 1300-year-old bone of an extinct species. I got
permission to make a mould of an almost fossilised sample.

Anna
intricately carved lines on the sculptures taken from ancient navigational instruments,
adding another layer of meaning to the artworks.

The
astrolabe is an ancient astronomical instrument sometimes referred to as the first
computer. The device was invented by the ancient Greeks and became common in Europe
during the Middle Ages. Horary quadrants are closely related to the astrolabe instrument,
used similarly but have a simpler function. I carved navigational
data from these tools on the bones, making the pieces act as symbolic clocks and compasses. To accentuate their instrumental qualities,
I display them on custom-made steel tripods.

The
sundial I made from the walrus’s tooth is based on the old cylindrical dial, also
known as the “shepherd’s dial”, coined as such because shepherds had it on handy
to know when to return home and keep track of time.

I
used software to make my sundial for a specific latitude, for Berlin, and then I
carved the drawing it made on the plaster cast. When technical instrumental data
is transferred onto organic forms, it doesn’t make a functional object. The sculptures
also embody opposites in materials and methods, the organic part is made by a machine,
but the technical data is hand carved.

The
title Last Season
refers to something being outdated or out of fashion and directly relates to the
fast-paced fashion industry. Which the titles of the sculptures also point to. Anna
Júlía then mixes all of this with the Icelandic Ocean floor and coral reeves.

In
Pre-Fall I used the whale’s shoulder blade as a canvas. I carved the coordinates
of an astrolabe disk into it. Holes representing the most prominent celestial objects
let the light through the object, making the constellation visible from the other
side. A pearl at the centre of the astrolabe’s grid matches the coordinates of the
Polestar, and on top, the piece is decorated with Icelandic coral, a bit like a
crown. The other side is covered with aluminium foil, creating a mechanical look
but also hinting towards this surface being a mirror. The shape reminded me of a
dressing table mirror due to its embracing form. So, the work mixes the scientific
and the personal space, function and aesthetics, both in the service of the individual.

Another
piece, Silhouette, is a room divider with drawings. I drew inspiration from Japanese
screen paintings that traditionally depict seasonal landscapes, I was especially
drawn to monochrome ink paintings where the scene fades in and out. I attached sheets
of grid paper to fit the screen. The paper has its association with mathematics
and systems and speaks to the categorising and organising of nature. It makes a
strong contrast when used for drawing and with the functional screen as ‘furniture’
– both being kind of wrong. I’ve used transfer paper before because of its connection
to bureaucracy, but this time I chose grid paper for its link with science.

I
was working from photographs from the Icelandic Marine & Freshwater Research
Institute. They are mapping the ocean floor around Iceland and have found corals
and many other deep-sea creatures. The scientists are campaigning for the protection
of some of these areas that fishing trollers threaten. These beautiful creatures
were photographed with a robotic underwater camera, and I have been lucky enough
to use these photographs and also some of the natural corals. I made casts from
the coral, created a black chain (black to continue the shadow play), and hung it
on the screen. Again, the piece juxtaposes the realm of science and personal space.
Digits in the drawings are taken from oceanic navigational maps of the sea around
Iceland. Finally, I cut open some of the squares in the grids, making a covert astrological
map visible by the light when the piece is backlit.

Anna
will finish her one-year residency this spring with a solo exhibition at Künstlerhaus
Bethanien. In the meantime, she will work further on her research whilst still getting
acquainted with the Berlin art scene.

Anna Júlía Friðbjörnsdóttir‘s works seek
to merge local histories and the politics of places with broader historical perspectives
and layered references from multiple sources. As research forms a large part of
her practice, she often works with institutions and specialists in various fields.
Coincidentally, her choice of materials stems from their inherent qualities and
varied associations, such as glass beads, copper, carbon paper, bone ash and tallow.
Friðbjörnsdóttir‘s work has been shown in the Reykjavik
Art Museum; Gerdarsafn – Kopavogur Art Museum, and at Hafnarborg Hafnarfjordur Centre
for Culture and Fine Arts, Iceland.