Austmarka | 3 degrees | fog
before getting up
there was the world of
Norwegian writer
(Karl Ove Knausgaard)
autobiographical
exact, descriptive
he is moved
by Constable’s sketches of clouds
and fears his responses
to art
are not appropriate
emotional
reckoning the emotional
is frowned upon, dismissed
in contemporary art
it’s possibly true
am thinking –
isn’t it possible
to be moved by the rational-
a complex sum
an engineering diagram ?
to recognise impartiality
as being shaped by context ?
to experience something
theoretical happening in front of us?
the distinctions
are less compelling
than the muddle
in between
but nothing new here I guess…
too much thinking
before breakfast ….
am first up
everyday
breakfast taken
with BBC news
skimming stories
Obama on Turkish air strikes
at home Osbourne ensures
we mainline austerity
as his chums fill their pockets
but back to tea and toast
it’s maybe a 1 sweater day
noticeably warmer
but damp and drear
head out
for milk
some appealing
green pickle stuff
quickly coated with mist
follow main road
feels like dusk
is not yet midday
past the old
raw red timber mill
a four-square yellow house
a long low school
no fences or barriers
anywhere
things just peter out
a white wooden church
with moss coloured spire
doors wide open
lights shine brightly
from within
rough hewn squares and rectangles
of granite and stone
lean against a low wall
ahead a map on a post
points me back
afternoon closes in
on the ample studio
the washing machine
floods the floor
back to the video editing
fussy and fiddly
menus, tools and drop-downs
guided by a tutorial
by someone who ends every instruction
with ‘there you go guys’
not getting very far
editing is quite boring
am not patient
test out the mini projector
laptop to projector
connection doesn’t work
SD card does work
but slow
project onto small white sheet
results negligible
over a meal the Norwegian artist
tells of her travels
around the world
getting inspired by new places
about public art in Norway
making work in well-designed
schools + hosptials,
in an old people’s home
a concert hall
in a police station even
can you imagine the
Daily Mail headlines ?
£xx million
spent on art
for criminals, the sick, elderly + children !
Austmarka | minus 8 degrees | sunny + dry
getting out of the village
is not easy
bus leaves at 6.45 am
one returns at 3.45
if your lucky
question is – what to do
on arriving at 7.20 am
when it’s freezing ?
you can stroll
up to the Fortress
suggests Astrid
thoughts of a day out
preoccupy me all morning
to go to a cafe
a museum
look at the fortress
the shops
soak up some local colour
out and about with my camera
still unaccustomed
to the very cold
gloves on and off
adjusting my camera
I head up to the bridge
separating 2 lakes
Fagernessjøen and some other
air so sharp
it cuts into bare skin
clear hard light
revealing everything
I film the
the river Sorgo
as it whooshes along
a thin white mist
hovers about it
begin to photograph
the glitzy grasses
and weeds
covered with white shards
like cheap christmas decorations
afternoon is almost over by 2
blue shadows close in
how long have I been here ?
now, to get on with some work
must learn Premiere Pro
don’t really like it
but persevere
through tutorials
served up
by excessively cheerful
young men
am told it all happens
post production !
contrasty stuff
and colour grading
rather complex
projecting the captured
and seemingly real
into a totally
hyperreal universe
like in cinema films
where you see too much
this is the measure they use
hmmm….
the other artist
called Jenny, arrives
she is older and chatty
a relief
she is steady and calm
we chat over a meal
with Lin from Taiwan
and talk about life
at home and away
Norwegians (apparently) are wealthy
unless they’re alcoholics
on drugs or new from abroad
they are communal,egalitarian
Social Democrats
they pay high taxes
but don’t mind
they learn to ski in school
there are wolves and bears
hereabouts and beware of
Elks with baby Elks in tow
they are apt to rear up
and clatter you
with their front feet
in Taiwan they eat out
all the time
play base ball + basket-ball
aborigines live
in the central mountains
but work in the towns
their history is muddied
with that of China and Japan
about the UK I tell them
I live on the coast
a diverse and creative place
full of artists, photographers, musicians etc
we have lovely beaches and walks in the woods
where people walk their dogs + their children
no dangerous animals or weather
but
we have a terrible government
self-serving, draconian, philistine, mean
it’s cold outside
we put the heating on high
and huddle with hot drinks
Austmarka | minus 5 degrees | extra sunny
sunday morning – slept well
reading Karl Ove Knausgaard till late
perfecting the art of making toast in the oven
raspberry jam, tart against the crunchy toast
it’s extra sunny outside and deep in frost
there’s the weather and there’s food
to think about
there are snatched conversations to be had
and there are thoughts and ideas to develop
look at the map
there are 4 or 5 ways
out of the village
follow the path on the map
up to the forest
blue daubs mark
well-kept pathways
past the village hall – I’m guessing
up to the pine forest behind
immediatley
there are dapples of sunlight
illuminating hillocky ground
between the trees
amongst the moss
that Paula loved,
I take out some props
and take some photos
the forest is warmer
my hands aren’t frozen
each twig and blade of grass
has a powdered coating
where the sun has not reached
all is covered in icing sugar
an imagined place
Up the steep hillside
guided by blue blobs
trampling stuff underfoot
there are rivulets of ice
slippery trecherous
keep checking the map
reach the road and over
down the other side
everything’s white
sky bright bright blue
no-one’s about
unsettled by silence
lack of life around
fierce dogs start barking
– are there wolves
will I be eaten alive ?
alternate between edginess and
desire to capture
just one more view
check the map – it’s further
than I thought
the placid lake I’m looking for
suddenly to the left, it’s there
all iced over – I nearly miss it
it’s slippery and boggy
what if I fall or slip…
it’s all very
…. Ansel Adams
what’s there to say
about a pine forest ?
is there soemthign here for me ?
this as a subject, a concept ?
all this nature – the sublime
beauty
I like it’s indifference
my feeling a speck
but what am I doing ?
I’m full of wonder at it all
but what ……
the time passes
I seem to fill it
ideas are forming
everything seems black and white
(apart form cerulean skies)
so that’s one way to go
there are vertical lines in the birch trees
and dark bubbling brooks
now the moon is huge and milky
I carry on thinking…
can’t face my 3 day soup again
perhaps I’ll make spaghetti
Austmarka | -5 degrees | sunny & cloudy
saturday morning – sleep till 8
awake in sweater and socks
there’s no one around
a hard frost is on the ground
make soup to last a few days
catch a bit of the news
troubles in Brussles
scrabble around for a map
go to Joker (village shop)
for milk, chat with the owner
who arrived here via Egypt & USA
like home, talking about the weather
breaks the ice – ha ha
take a walk along the river
it’s swirling dark brown water
froths and foams around boulders
it’s darkness is compelling
ice crystals are forming
on grass blades
on the handrail of the bridge
small rectangular crystals
stand on end
I photograph the turbulant water
the ice crystals
the upsidedown houses
there’s not a sound
my fingers are raw and red with cold
I film in 30 second bursts
down from a minute !
how long does it take for frost-bite
to take a hold – I wonder
miss a turning on the way back
and head our of town – quick panic
but find a way back and
I pass a car or two
saturday afternoon is cold
a whiling away time with a heater
a pile of Astrid’s books
loose a few hours looking at
photographic journals
(a few ideas here noted)
at stories of nordic women
living as farmers,
scientists, sauna therapists
of bone chilling poverty
and institutional harshness
the owner arrives
gets ready for her first christams party
not keen to do the fancy dress thing
she leaves with a split paper bag
over her head – with torn eye holes
worn under a floppy hat
Austmarka | 1-3 degrees | sunny
day three
21/11/2015 ~ rags24 ~ Edit
Austmarka | 1-3 degrees | sunny
looking at the maps
can’t tell which way round we are
the sun is shining brightly
through the birch trees
outside the kitchen window
keen to get out and about
wrap up warm
load up with camera
and bags for shopping
frost is still on the ground
the lake to the south
shimmers in the clear bright morning light
I love this kind of morning !
it’s cold – minus 8 in Oslo
I head toward the lake not sure which way to go
follow the path to the right
cat ice on the surface
and a loud but narrow waterfall
zigzaggs down the hill
through the dark woods
I take photos here and there
looking for patterns and rhythms
mixing film with video
don’t have a clear plan
just collecting data
fingers are frozen
the rest of me warm
gloves on and off
camera inside my coat
I come across abandoned buildings
take a few photos
hands are still frozen
can see an old white enamelled stove
but camera can’t read it
through the double glazed window
a wheelbarrow rests under a sloping bridge
leading to upper floor of a barn
dark rust red in colour
full of rubbish
on the way back
an upturned rowing boat
has been painted sky blue
fill up at the shop
keen for hot chocolate and bananas
in the studio
I make some plans-
no emails before 4
make a blog and write daily
take some photos
make some film
do some drawing
read stuff
making connections
in meandering fashion-
from Mary Wollstonecraft’s letters from Norway
observing landscape, philosophising on life
women, nature, society – and keeping it Norwegian to Hedda Gabler and the Dolls House
100 years later
women, intelligent and bored
in the way of many 19th century heroines
and back to Mary W and the Sublime and Beauty-
Norway in 18thC had a free press,
religious tolerance and a fair distribution of land
where all this leading
not sure I know….
