VISION AND INSIGHT

Interview with David Svensson by Synne Rifbjerg

No one has ever said that talking with an artist is supposed to be easy - at least not when he is staying in Greenland, only has occasional access to a borrowed computer, and the telephone is out of order. David Svensson is a very obliging person, and it also helps to have his correct e-mail address. Nevertheless, I had plenty of time to try to envision “the Artist in Greenland”, who, like any other polar explorer, must battle his way through a howling hell of snow and ice to reach the communications post. Before my imagination managed to get the upper hand, however, a form of written conversation was initiated, and I asked Svensson why he was in Greenland and what the place actually looks like.

David Svensson: At the moment I am in Qaqortoq, a village of 3,500 inhabitants located in the south of Greenland. I will be staying here for two months. I spend most of my time enjoying the landscape and wildlife here. The air is clear, and the silence is quite striking. Viewed from a distance, the landscape appears monotonous; when you make your way around in a boat it basically looks the same all the time. Some of the mountaintops have a soft green colour, others are a barren-looking grey. Some are covered with snow, and the absence of trees is striking. When you walk out in the landscape your viewpoint changes, and if you look at it up close you see its subtle nuances; a wealth of different mosses in various shades of green, some soft and some brittle. When you walk it makes a really special sound - it cracks beneath your feet, as if you were walking on coal and ashes. To my surprise, I discovered that succulents also grow here - even some of the species that I have on my balcony at home in Malmö. The small number of different impressions heightens your senses; you hear even the quietest sounds, and every bird captivates your interest.
The fact that Greenland was not granted home rule until 1973 means that a sense of home rule pervades most aspects of life here. Greenland and the Greenlanders find themselves at the gates to something new, and people here are silently working to create a new identity for themselves. Their former identity is practically lost. A people of nature is being transformed into something else; hunting and fishing are in decline and people are abandoning small villages, which are dying out and turning into ghost towns with nailed up wooden houses. Unfortunately, Greenlanders have almost entirely lost contact with their old Inuit culture, and have no relationship to its rich crafts, unique dress and customs. In Greenland people have Danish ways to which I, as a Scandinavian, could nod in recognition. Their Danish-ness is pasted on, and has nothing whatsoever to do with Greenlandic culture. The way in which recognisable elements are woven together with foreign ones is confusing.

Synne Rifbjerg: What have these surroundings meant for your art?

D.S.: I think the surroundings mean a lot, even if it might be on a more indirect level. I went to Japan two years ago, and have found that this has significantly coloured some of the works I have produced lately. Some of the works that spring to mind are “Screen Wall” and “Illuminator”, which will be displayed at the exhibition.

S.R.: What comes first in your work: the colours, the materials or the idea?

D.S.: These are things I work with at the same time. It’s important to me that these three parameters are present during the entire process so they can be integrated into the work. It has happened that I have had ideas without finding a material, or have thought about a material without having an idea. In these cases, I’ve had to give up the idea of realising them.

S.R.: I am sitting and looking at your CV, and it really is a condensed version of the last ten or so years of your life. You started out at the School of Design and Crafts (HDK) in Gothenburg, then attended the Academy of Arts in Oslo, the Royal University College of Fine Arts in Stockholm and the Malmö Art Academy. Why did you start studying decorative art and design, and why have you moved around so much?

D.S.: I started out studying graphic design at the HDK in Gothenburg. I’ve been interested in design as long as I can remember, especially furniture design and graphic design. It did not take long before I felt like working mostly with my own ideas, instead of spending my time on assignments. The ideas I wanted to work with quite simply suited the concept of art better than the concept of design. This became very clear to me when I started at art school. Afterwards, I decided to spend time at some of the different art schools, and this made me realise that these schools represented quite different artistic positions - and I found that this enriched my studies considerably.

S.R.: What does a notion such as “Art and everyday life” say to you?

D.S.: When I hear the notion “Art and everyday life” I immediately think of Mondrian and his lengthy essay on the integration of art into life - his vision that painting will one day be absorbed by real life, and that a new environment and a new type of society will arise.
In my own artistic activity, I don’t feel the need to tear down the boundaries between art and everyday life. Of course, these ought to interact, and art should naturally serve as a tool within a broader social context. As an artist, I naturally also wish to see art become more integrated into society than it is now, and to see better room be given to art. For my own part, however, I am happy to maintain a certain distance between art and everyday life, so that you can go into and out of art and preserve your concentration.

S.R.: When I consider the exhibitions you have taken part in, they seem to alternate between individual and group exhibitions. Of course, that can be more or less a matter of choice, but I am curious to know how much it means for the art you choose to exhibit or create that it will be exhibited in connection with works by other artists.

D.S.: I find it interesting to be involved in different contexts. Being part of a group exhibition means something different from exhibiting works alone, and it certainly can have an impact on which works are to be exhibited. Group exhibitions have a lot to do with the encounter with works by other artists, and what takes place between the different works. With individual exhibitions, you have to solve the problem yourself, ensuring that the individual works combine to form a whole.

S.R.: What do the actual exhibition spaces mean for your art? I can see that you have exhibited your works at airports and in parks, in art museums and at art fairs.

D.S.: As an artist, I don’t experience an exhibition space as anything neutral. It is something that has a serious impact on the works being exhibited. For example, “Illuminator” was exhibited in an art nouveau environment at a museum in Hamburg, in a turn-of-the-century apartment, in an art museum, and at a gallery with vaulted ceilings. The space is coloured by the work, just as the work is coloured by the space. This interaction between works of art and the spaces in which they are exhibited interests me.
Relational aspects are also important in my work - that the observer is positioned in the same space and on the same level as the work on display, and that the presence of the observer is contained within the work and within the space in which the work is exhibited.

Carnegie Art Award 2002