Author name: odalisque

Fatima Moallim and the Will to Live text Natalia Muntean “I think art that displays inability and insecurity is more rewarding,” says Fatima Moallim about her approach to being an artist and creating whilst being plagued by feelings of doubt. Born in Moscow to Somali parents and raised in the million program outside Växjö, Moallim is a self-taught artist and has gained recognition for her performative works, particularly her unique approach to drawing using chalk, pencil, sharpie pens, and oil crayons. Moallim’s works are spread across various mediums, from drawing and sculpture to performance and installation, creating a seamless blend of memories and present moods. Fatima Moallim has Moallim has exhibited site-specific works at Moderna Museet Stockholm, Gothenburg Konsthall, Marabouparken, Zinkensdamm subway station in Stockholm and on the glass facade of Bonniers konsthall. She is represented in the collection of the British Museum, Moderna Museet, Gothenburg Museum of Art, Ståhl Collection, The Statens Konstråd’s collection, Vinge Advokatbyrå Collection and was the 2022 Iaspis Studio Grant Holder ISCP, New York. Her latest exhibition, “Viljan att Leva,” currently showcased at Konstakademien until March 2nd, provides the audience with a glimpse into Moallim’s inner world. Natalia Muntean: Could you tell us more about your exhibition “Viljan att leva”? What themes or concepts are explored in this collection of works?Fatima Moallim: Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts – an explosion of my inner thoughts that I can’t get rid of. I see buildings, structures, and the city’s inner forms and corners. I get stuck with an image in my head, and it can take weeks or months before all of a sudden I see myself in the studio in front of a huge finished drawing. It’s almost like it just appeared. NM: How did the experience of living in New York influence and shape the pieces displayed in this exhibition?FM: I lived in New York for a year, right next door to the Whitney Museum. I spent a lot of time in front of the large works by all the great artists that you never get to see in Sweden. That inspired me to work bigger and bolder. I don’t think I would have done the same kind of work if it wasn’t for my New York scholarship. NM: You mentioned that your creative process is neurotic, and you often doubt the quality of your work. Can you elaborate on how this doubt contributes to the authenticity of your art?FM: It is easy as an artist to hide behind elaborate details or gestures. That doesn’t interest me. I think that art that displays inability and insecurity is more rewarding. NM: Your previous works, such as “Flyktinglandet,” explored your family’s journey from Mogadishu to Moscow and eventually to Växjö and Gislaved. How has your Somali heritage influenced your artistic journey, and do you continue to explore it in your current work?FM: When I set the titles for my work I think it comes easy to me thanks to my Somali heritage. In the nomadic lifestyle, poetry and storytelling were the most important creative act and Somalia is one of the strongest poetic nations. I grew up with poetry and literature as a natural part of everyday life. NM: Could you share more about the relationship between Various Artists and your visual art, particularly in terms of improvisation and collaboration?FM: For me, starting a band without knowing anything about music, has a lot to do with exposing yourself to uncomfortable situations. In that sense, it is similar to what I try to achieve with my drawings. That said, I collaborate with extremely talented artists, like singer Sofia Jernberg and sculptor Ida Ida Ida. My band has been my greatest obsession since I started it. I use ordinary objects to make sounds, like an electric toothbrush, keys and a pencil sharpener. I sometimes invite people with little or no experience playing instruments to perform. A concert is a success when there are both moments of beauty and cringe. Portrait by Joakim Forsgren

Bernar Venet Is Disorganising Order text Natalia Muntean Renowned as a “giant of contemporary art,” Bernar Venet, born in 1941 in Château-Arnoux, France, has spent over six decades pushing the boundaries of artistic expression. As the most internationally exhibited French artist, Venet’s radical style reimagines traditional sculpture forms and extends into various artistic realms, including monumental corten steel sculptures, painting, performance, poetry, sound, design, and photography.  From January 25 until March 8, 2024, Wetterling Gallery is showcasing Venet’s latest works in an exhibition called “Disorganizing Order”. The exhibition features recent sculptures, drawings, and paintings by Venet and serves as a canvas for the artist’s overarching “principle of equivalence.” This guiding principle, transcending disciplines, encapsulates his latest theoretical explorations, centred on concepts like entropy, unpredictability, and self-reference. At the core of the exhibition are the recent Collapses (Effondrements) – stacks of Arcs arranged by chance and gravity, challenging the traditional vertical structure of sculptures and offering a delicate balance between unpredictability and mathematical precision. The exhibition’s final room features paintings from the Diffeomorphism (Difféomorphisme) series, where Venet digitally distorts scientific texts, creating a contrast between surface confusion and logical-mathematical formulas. There is an interplay between order and disorder, precision and unpredictability, that dominates Venet’s works, adding depth and complexity. It encourages viewers to contemplate the balance between control and chance, while also challenging traditional artistic norms and inviting a closer examination of the relationships between opposing forces in his creations. With works in over 70 museums worldwide, Venet continues to captivate global audiences from his dual bases in France and New York. Photos by Jean Baptiste Beranger, © Bernar Venet, courtesy of the artist and Wetterling Gallery Stockholm.

Intersections of Art: Astrid Jensen Kruse and Marjolein Rothman text Natalia Muntean “It felt very natural. My paintings speak about photography, and Astrid’s work revolves around photography, but it is very painterly. And we have similar motivations for why we do the work,” says Dutch painter Marjolein Rothman about the shared exhibition with Danish artist Astrid Kruse Jensen. Brought together by Björn Wetterling, the artists have come back to Stockholm with exhibitions currently gracing the walls of Wetterling Gallery. “He suggested that we should share the exhibition, knowing each other’s work very well. We had a good feeling about it and it made sense,” explains Kruse Jensen the idea behind the shared exhibition. “Resonance” by Astrid Kruse Jensen is somewhat of an existential journey catalysed by personal loss, while Marjolein Rothman returns with a series of paintings titled “Orange and Teal”, exploring ideas of fleetingness and the human condition. Even though different at first glance, their artistic trajectories and the current exhibitions hosted by Wetterling Gallery, deeply rooted in personal narratives and explorations of identity, intertwine seamlessly. Natalia Muntean sat down with the artists as they peeled back the layers of their creative minds, offering glimpses into their profound motivations, divergent mediums, and the intersections that define their artistic journeys. Natalia Muntean: I would like to know more about the exhibition and how you approached it. Did you treat it as two completely separate exhibitions, or was there a dialogue about it?Astrid Jensen Kruse: Marjolein and I had participated in group exhibitions together before, and this project space of Wetterling Gallery, which feels more like a two-space gallery, allows for exhibitions to communicate with each other, yet remain separate. It’s like Marjolein said – there’s so much linked between our work, even though it looks different. The strokes of light, for example. My work is photographic, but because of the chemical traces and the strokes of light, it also has this painterly touch. We both use ourselves as a starting point, drawing from life experiences like grief, loss, and love. It emanates from a deep, personal interest rooted in our hearts, but we want to make it universal, so anyone can relate. NM: Seems as if you take an essence of yourselves and transmit it through photographs and pictures?Marjolein Rothman: Yes, and also in our way of working, we take a step back, becoming more analytical while maintaining a strong, personal motivation. I have moments of reflection, considering what works and what doesn’t. As a painter, you stand in a long tradition, so what do you do then? I chose classical subjects like architecture, self-portraiture, and flowers. For me, that was daring because painting flowers was the only thing that women were allowed to do. But then I tried to do something that is maybe different and that is also a motivation.AJK: I am not afraid to work with something beautiful, while always incorporating an element of disturbance. It’s never just beautiful; there are always cracks, a duality between beauty and pain, love and loss, darkness and light. This shimmering between these elements is constant. It’s quiet and moving at the same time.MR: And that also depends on how you approach the medium. You, Astrid, choose photographic material that is expired for example. I use just two colours, let the painting appear, and that’s it. I don’t want to create a fixed image that I build up; I want the work to be in this in-between state, reflecting movement, transformation, and vastness. This is very important to both of us. It’s about fleetingness. I care less about traditional norms in painting and more about the direct expression of ideas. Painting isn’t solely about technique; it’s about conveying what you want to show. Failure is part of the process – erasing, building, scraping – until the light appears, and the image emerges. It’s been a journey in painting, but I love it. NM: When do you know a painting or photograph is ready?MR: It’s linked to a specific moment, much like photography. The connection to the image and the mood during its creation are crucial. I don’t precisely know beforehand what I’ll paint, but I have a general idea. I work within a short time, around 10 or 20 minutes, and once that’s done, the piece is finished. I want the painting to mirror the state of being when I made it. I can’t go back and add strokes; the energy needs to be captured in that moment. NM: You don’t alter it after?MR: No, sometimes I conclude, but altering it feels different energetically. The brushstrokes and everything else reflect the making process, and that’s crucial. NM: It sounds like they live their own lives, and you’re just the medium. What about your process, Astrid?AJK: I think my process is slower. Most often, I write about my images before finding a location. I photograph the same place multiple times. Sometimes, you’re there, see the light, and you just know without really seeing or understanding how the chemicals will react; you know this will be it. I prefer getting to know the locations beforehand. That’s why I return and photograph again. I place them all on the studio walls and start making selections. It’s a slow process, but sometimes, seeing ten pictures laid out, I just know which are the ones. It’s different each time, but there’s a feeling within, a certain knowing. You can’t explain it exactly, but you feel it.MR: Do you sense it when you take a photo?AJK: Sometimes when I enter a space, see the light, and I know, inexplicably, I have to be there. Other times, I revisit, seeking a different angle or adjustment. It’s about understanding the space I work in.MR: There’s a magical element too, as Astrid mentions the writing and the wonder of it all. I often tell students that while we can teach painting techniques, the wonder doesn’t come from that. It’s about the spontaneous moments, influenced by everything – the walk

An Interview With Håkan Rehnberg text Emelie Bodén & Filippa Finn Håkan Rehnberg is one of Sweden’s most distinguished contemporary artists. For several decades his artistic practice has combined a formal precision with a fundamental interest in the inherent character and possibilities of his materials. The artist describes each individual work as an attempt not to seek answers to but instead to deal with an impossible situation. The sculptures focus on the language-less-ness that he believes is fundamental in his work in which the relationship between the form and the material takes on a new character that is not burdened by language constructions and predetermined rules. What sets this exhibition apart from your previous body of work? Can you elaborate on the new direction it represents?This exhibition features a large group of new sculptures, a departure from my previous focus on painting and a single sculpture. In this exhibition, I showcase a significant collection of new sculptures, some of which have become pivotal works, symbolizing various stages in my artistic journey. The most significant piece is called “derovink,” a German term meaning a blink, closely associated with a gesture. I do not make statements or assert anything in my art; it’s purely a gesture. The sculpture itself is an upright aluminum slab with a slight deviation from the vertical, held in place by thin wires. This deviation holds great significance in the exhibition and has historical connections to other sculptures by artists like Barnet Newman, Giacometti, and Greek figurines, albeit with a unique twist. Another work in the exhibition, “Talapparaten,” is related to a stutter I suffered from for many years. However, it has evolved into a different perspective on language than the norm. I often talk about wanting but not being able to, and being able but not wanting to. I work under these dual premises, which can be rather negative in many ways. However, my focus is on highlighting expressions rather than the language itself. My works are never linguistic in that sense but rather a critique of language. Language presents a problem for me. I dislike the idea of artworks representing something; they should be themselves. I’m against representation and prefer to discuss gestures over depictions. I’m not fond of symbols either, as they represent and are tied to meanings. I believe that art does not carry meaning; it has a deeper impact on the viewer, striking them in a way that leaves an impression without complete understanding. It lingers and affects individuals in various ways. Why do you exclusively choose to work with oil on blasted acrylic glass for your paintings? Was this a deliberate choice, or did it evolve organically over time?Thirty years ago, I began working with sandblasted acrylic glass. Before that, I worked with heavier iron objects, lead plates, and such. I was searching for a canvas that wasn’t burdened with historical connotations. That’s when I came across this sandblasted acrylic glass, which has an entirely smooth surface and excellent paint adhesion. I have always preferred oil paint because you can work with it for quite some time before it dries. What distinguishes my painting, and has done so since I started using these materials, is that I always complete a painting in a single session. I never go back and make changes; it must be executed in one sitting. This session can last from a few hours to a full day. What inspired the title of your new exhibition, “By an Oak and a Rock”? Could you share the origin or significance of this name?The expression “by an oak and by a rock” originates from an ancient writer named Hesiod. One could say that this expression predates the Muses, in other words, aesthetics. It’s something much more primitive and raw. Initially, he invokes the Muses to be able to write. The Muses are somehow connected with art, form, and storytelling. But then, after he has done this and invoked them, he suddenly says, “But what does it matter to me by an oak and by a rock?” It emerges spontaneously as a new beginning. It’s actually incomprehensible in the context, but I have found some research that shows it’s a recurring expression. It appears in Homer and in Babylonian creation stories, among others. What inspired your first video work that’s presented in this exhibition, featuring a brutal scene of transformation in nature? What message or emotions were you aiming to convey through this?The video included in the exhibition is titled “Peacock Eye and Cross Spider.” It features a cross spider weaving a peacock eye into its web. Initially, I didn’t know why I should include it. But in some way, I felt that it touched me. The more I’ve looked at it and the more I’ve accepted it, I feel that it reflects my position as a creative artist. The vulnerability one feels between the struggles of power and one’s own creative work. A kind of susceptibility to an authoritarian language that one is always threatened by. By an Oak and a RockExhibition period: November 11 – December 16, 2023Opening hours: Tuesday – Friday 11.00 – 18.00, Saturday 12.00 – 16.00

An Interview With Rankin text Emma Bernhard John Rankin – or Rankin as he’s more commonly called – has been establishing himself as a major photography figure since the 90’s with his famous celebrity portraits. Madonna, David Bowie, Kate Moss, Jay-Z and even the Queen. He had the privilege to enter the universes of these pop culture symbols and the talent to make these universes appear in a picture, using his personal colorful and expressive touch. This year, he’s presenting his first solo exhibition in Sweden : an exhibition he curated himself and whose title “Rankin: The…” perfectly reflects the wide prism of his work, from fashion to music, including cinema and advertising. Do you have to like someone’s universe – or at least something from their universe – to portray them ? Or do you also like to explore universes you’re not familiar with or you don’t necessarily like in the beginning?That’s a very good question, I’ve not been asked that very much. I learned very early on that the idea of liking someone who’s in the news or the media comes with a whole lot of baggage. So, the reason you have an opinion about them is either you’ve read something about them or you’ve seen something (like a photograph, a video…) Or someone you know is talking about them because they’ve seen or read something about them. The thing about the media is that it really inheres in lies about people. So it creates heroes and it creates villains : and that’s how it works. So the whole media is about lies. Because I’m a photographer, I kind of record history and document the person in front of me. I decided very early on to try to avoid having preconceptions and I did that by immediately trying to go into a situation with this view that was unaffected by what I had read. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t research someone; I do research people. But it does mean that I tend to trust what’s going on in the moment with people. You definitely meet people that you don’t like but there’s a lot of people you presume you’re not going to like that you do like because a lot of what people write is bullshit. And some people that you love and think they’re really nice people, they’re not nice people. So, it’s quite an interesting game. For me, interestingly, you’ve put a name on a head because a lot of the time what i’m trying to do is show something that people don’t see about someone in my pictures, show something that maybe they’re unveiling or left behind the curtain. In making something together I’m trying to get them to reveal something about themselves. So, interestingly, sometimes they reveal them a bit more. You said it was important for you to meet the person before and to talk with them so it seems to be a whole process. But are you sometimes surprised by what it ends up to be?Yes. Hundred percent. I think if I was process driven aesthetically I would not get the best versions of what I wanted whereas it’s because I’m very flexible and move very gently I think I get very good experiences with people. But also, I’m not scared of technology. It doesn’t worry me. Something goes wrong, we find a solution. Or if someone goes :” I don’t like that”, well, it’s okay, we can change it. I don’t hold on and say “No, that’s how we’re doing it” because I don’t believe in that dictatorial approach. You also said that you liked to work fast. Does that mean that you’re not a perfectionist?Nothing’s perfect. As I’m walking in the gallery I don’t say to myself : “what’s wrong with this space?” or “what’s wrong with that shadow?” or “I hate that shadow on that picture. I hate it, and it annoys me to have this shadow on my picture.” Every picture is not perfect at all, ever. You let it go, even if it’s still there in the back of my head but you just have to live with it. “C’est la vie” ! Do some painters inspire you?Yes. Caravaggio, Rembrandt, Egon Schiele… and conceptually Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin and Jenny Saville. I don’t use them as references very often but yes I love them. I just saw Donatello two days ago in V&A in London and it was absolutely extraordinary to see what he did. It’s mind blowing. Is it the same approach if you portray someone famous or someone who’s not?Everyone is different in front of the camera. There are people you expect to be so relaxed and they come in with walls up, or people who you expect to be nervous who are so confident and vibrant in front of the lens. I don’t think it’s a matter of celebrity vs. “real people” – it’s just the nature of people in general. When you look at an image of someone you want to see that glint in the model’s eye. You want to feel a connection with them. Every photo tells the story of how the shoot went, the atmosphere in the room and how the model felt, so it’s my responsibility as a photographer to make sure everyone is having a nice time in front of the camera – whether I’m photographing a musical icon, a supermodel or volunteer working for a charity. Has your work been welcomed the same way depending on the different countries you presented it in ? If not, in which way was it different?Different countries always have different responses. So much of art and photography is subjective and how you approach work does come in part from your background and culture, so someone viewing my photography in Sweden will have a different relationship to someone from the UK or Italy. That’s not to say it’s a good or bad thing. But it does make it exciting for me

An Interview with Kaffe Fassett text Linnéa Ruiz Mutikainen Craftsmanship, reimagined. Textile trailblazer Kaffe Fassett’s creative landscape embraces eccentric forms, a bustling exploration of not only technique but also color. For him, crafting in color is a recurrent desire. End of September, Kaffe Fassett: The Power of Pattern opens its doors at Millesgården Museum, set to inject energetic to the zeitgeist minimalist agenda of the region. Linnea Ruiz Mutikainen: Color is undoubtedly key to your artistic practice, continuously depicted through your work. What sparked this interest? Kaffe Fassett: When I first started life as a serious full-time artist, I painted only white on white still lives. Color was just a distraction from many white dashes on white clothworks. I gradually got into color as I encountered Persian paintings in the Victoria and Albert Museum. They were crammed with the movement of pattern in a riot of color, transforming my own paintings to a dance of pattern in multicolor. These paintings made me feel joyous. LRM: Your incorporation and later key transition from classic painting to textile craftsmanship is of particular interest to me. Did it come to you naturally? KF: I started knitting because the yarns I found in Scotland were intriguingly beautiful. No one was using them to their advantage. It was meant to be a brief relief from my painting career, but soon I found the act of knitting to be so soothing and addictive. My mind loved the exercise of creating patterns to carry color in more inventive ways. My personal travels, visits to museums, and searching in books for rich patterns of past cultures turned into an all-absorbing pastime. Months of experiments passed and I got to design for the Missoni’s in Italy and be celebrated by Vogue Magazine. LRM: There are regular injections of diverse materials and techniques, from hand-stitching to patchwork and quilting, through your work. Have you always been curious to try out new textures? KF: I am curious about new textures and ways of manipulating patterns. But my main obsession and quest is to develop colors in any way that I can find. Just arranging colorful cushions and carpets in a room is deeply satisfying to me. LRM: The Colour Lab is not only your studio, it is also your home. Has it ever been challenging or solely creatively fruitful merging private life with artistic creation in the same space? KF: I love to wake up amid my projects. Living where I work is so rich to me. I do make myself take breaks to walk or go for a swim to find balance in my life. But I love what I do. I am so glad I don’t have to travel to get stuck in each day. LRM: Your upcoming exhibition at Millesgården, Kaffe Fassett: The Power of Pattern showcases a diverse range of your work. What can we, as visitors, expect from the exhibition? KF: The Power of Pattern is a celebration of all the quilters around the world who use the Kaffe Collective prints by Brandon Mably, Philip Jacobs, and myself in diverse and brilliant ways. Any would-be creative person should find inspiration and ideas here. LRM: Do you have any sources or ideas of inspiration, both for this exhibition and your creative process in general? KF: I would say my main inspiration comes from the makers of the past. Skansen is a perfect example. A rich gathering of wonderful life-enhancing design, made by people in the past who wanted life to be decorated and special. The exhibition Kaffe Fassett: The Power of Pattern opens today September 30th, 2023 at Millesgården and is open until February 28th, 2024.

The Time Between Us by Jason Martin text Natalia Muntean “It’s always about finding the balance between capturing the moment in a still painting, while also showing the movement and boldness,” says British artist Jason Martin.  The Time Between Us is an exhibition bringing together pieces from years ago and the artist’s current work, as an ongoing search to expand a personalised vocabulary that stretches 23 years. Golden accents, shimmering greens or profound, oily hues, all blend to show Martin’s creative universe and act as an exploration of the tension between the ephemeral and the eternal. The paintings represent an attempt to capture moments that encompass the duality of being fleeting but also lasting forever, like trapping a moment into forever. As if Martin has managed to imprison time within his canvas. Through his work, the artist aims to transmit an eternal energy that can have an impact on a wider audience. “I make works for the now, the contemporary cycle we all inhabit but as important for the unborn,” concludes the artist.After a 12-year absence, Jason Martin returned to Stockholm with The Time Between Us, a solo exhibition on display at Wetterling Gallery until the 30th of September. Jason Martin was born in 1970 in Jersey, Channel Islands. He holds a BA from Goldsmiths University and is well known for his monochromatic abstract paintings. Portrait: Mustafa Hulusi  

An Interview With Curator Matilda Olof-Ors text Josie McNeill A large sculpture composed of stacked wooden logs greets visitors as they enter the Moderna Museet’s “Pink Sails – Swedish Modernism in the Moderna Museet’s Collection,” exhibit that was unveiled on June 17. The sculpture, “Horizon of Me(aning)” by Carola Grahn, is a part-performance piece that, per the artist’s instructions, must be privately assembled in the exhibit while having a conversation about mental health. “Horizon of Me(aning)” speaks on how nature is animate, and although it is from 2015 originally, the work’s theme of trust in nature connects to many of the other pieces in the exhibit from the 20th century. ‘Pink Sails’ explores this theme, along with other progress and changes in society in this age, through the lens of modernist artwork. ‘Pink Sails,” curated by Matilda Olof-Ors, is a part of the museet’s new exhibition program in which each exhibit aims to explore art historical contexts instead of simply showcasing the chosen pieces chronologically. The exhibit draws its title from Ragnar Sandberg’s 1934 painting of the same name. For Olof-Ors, she was inspired to name the exhibit after this painting because “the lyrical and open character of the title also speaks to a strand of Swedish art at the time that existed side by side with the more well-known modernist narratives of transition and progression.” Can you start off by just giving me an overview of the exhibit?It’s based mainly on works from the Moderna Museet’s collection and covers the period from 1900s to the 1940s. I’ve been interested to see how the very drastic and rapid changes in society, of course, also reached the realm of art. You find it in both the artists’ quest for new motifs, and in the motifs themselves, capturing the new society-–everything from the fast growing cities to the industrial sites. But also I think it’s reflected in how the artists’ constantly strive to push the boundaries in search for new expressions, as well as in the artists that were rather turning their gaze inwards, using inspiration from fantasy, from fairy tales, from literature, and from sort of a non-visual world. It is also interesting that these tendencies exist side by side; it’s not like one thing or the other. What was your process of curating the exhibit? Did you come up with the idea first and then find paintings to fit in or were you inspired by the collection of paintings?The museum has a fantastic collection of works from these periods, so it’s been most inspiring to go back and look into that to explore. As the exhibition is based on our collection, limitations are of course inevitable, and I have included a few loans from neighboring institutions like National Museum and an institution in Uppsala, Bror Hjorths Hus, The Hilma af Klint Foundation and the Swedish Radio. The curation process, of course, has involved the compilation of a few monographic rooms, and also outlining some more thematic contexts. How did you choose the sub themes for the exhibit?It’s been a combination of posing questions and exploring: What art works, artists, and themes do we have in the museum’s collection? What sort of stories can we tell? What is interesting and relevant today? I think this period is interesting to look at now, almost 100 years later. Today, there’s another war going on in Europe. We experience very drastic changes in society, still going faster and faster as well. And I think we again gaze at nature as a way of searching for solutions to the challenges that we face today. To conclude, some prevailing themes in the early and mid 1900s are still very present or reoccurring today. I was gonna ask you to talk about that a little more. How do you think ‘Pink Sails’ is still relevant in today’s world?I would say that history is always relevant. We both get to know the history and get to reflect on contemporary society. As I mentioned earlier, many of the things that we are facing in the show are also very present today. Was there a piece of exhibit that stood out to you as being particularly impactful?One of my favorites is that wall [pointing]. I really like the texture, and the combination of the textile work by Anna Casparsson and the Vera Nilsson painting. I think they grasp some of the atmosphere that I was aiming for in this room. But also, I do have so many favorites. And then is there like a central message you want people to take away that are visiting the exhibit?Not particularly. It’s more that I hope that everyone would see and find something that they could relate to in the exhibition. And then did it come together the way you initially visualized it? In a way, yes. I think it’s so interesting working with contexts and ideas that you could start at one end, and then you realize you end up somewhere else once you sort of set the tone. And then how do you think Swedish modernism has evolved since the 20th century from when these paintings are from?That’s such a long story to tell. Of course, history is always changing. I would say the way we look at these paintings now is totally different than how they were perceived in the 1920s, or even in the 1970s, or the 1980s. I would argue that our relation to what we see is always the present one – both the artworks and how we look at them, but also how we interpret them is in a totally different way today than in the past.

An Interview With Lío Mehiel text Josie McNeill When trans-masculine filmmaker, actor, and artist Lío Mehiel came across the toxic, man-made lake of the Salton Sea in Bombay Beach, California, they saw a metaphor for the experience of transgender people in the world. “It felt like a warning message, that underneath this man-made, toxic lake, the world had drowned, and the world is drowning,” Mehiel said. “And like, the powers that be … are distracting us by getting us to argue about whether or not trans people should exist and whether women should have the choice to get an abortion. It’s like we’re being distracted by this shit when our world is drowning, and it’s underneath the toxic lake of our own making.” Mehiel explored this comparison and others in their photograph ‘angels in a drowning world.’ The piece, which was shot by trans masculine photographer Wynne Nielly, will be on display as part of the ‘Saints and Sinners’ exhibition in the Guts Gallery in London from June 9 to July 7. The exhibition showcases art by LGBTQIA+ artists and aims to explore what it means to be queer in a time where many safe spaces are being physically closed. The trans experience is a topic Mehiel explores through their multitude of artistic pursuits, including their portrayal of Feña in the film ‘Mutt,’ which will be released August 18. Mehiel was awarded the U.S. Dramatic Special Jury Award for Acting at the Sundance Film Festival on Jan. 27 for their leading role in the film. ‘Mutt’ centers around a tumultuous, emotion-filled day for Feña, a young trans masculine person. So with all of that, if you haven’t heard Mehiel’s name in conversations in the arts world yet, you probably will soon. Can you start off by telling me a little bit about yourself and your background in the arts?I’m a Puerto Rican and Greek trans masculine artist. I’m a filmmaker and I’m also an actor. I started out actually dancing salsa when I was seven years old, professionally, and then I was acting on Broadway in New York as a kid. And then it really wasn’t until University and upon graduating that I started to form more in the installation and the visual art space, which really just serves as a passion space for me. It’s not something I necessarily have an agenda about making money from or building a career because acting and filmmaking takes up the industrious side of my work. But visual art and installation is something I do as a way to explore and pilot out aspects of my identity. And to sort of reckon with the difficult things that I see in the world. Like I sort of process it through photo projects, in collaboration with other artists. What drew you to photography? Was it mostly your filmmaking background?I think that I’m an image maker and creating images has always been really fascinating to me, especially as a queer and trans artist because I spent so much time in my life before I transitioned thinking about the image of myself and trying to figure out how to both create an image that was what I thought would be acceptable to the outside world and also understand what it is that people were perceiving about me that was leading them to treat me in a certain way. And so I think Trans and Queer people, especially when they’re making art, have a sort of—or at least I can only speak for myself—I have a relationship to image making that is deeply personal because of the way that it’s threaded throughout my life. How did you come up with the concept for the angels of a drowning world photoshoot?So, a very close friend of mine is the one of the lead producers of this arts festival called the Bombay Beach Biennale. And it happens at Bombay Beach, which is a partially abandoned desert town about 45 minutes past Palm Springs and California. And it really feels like it’s the end of the world. Like it’s the last stop in the world that you would get to if the world was flat.  And the town is sitting on a man made, toxic lake called the Salton Sea, which is a really rich and inspiring, jumping off point for a lot of artists. [The Bombay arts festival was] able to give me a small grant to do some kind of installation and performance piece. At the time, I was already working on developing a collection of sculptures of trans and gender expansive folks, which is called Angels, with Holly Sylius, who made the sculpture of me that is in this photo. And then this opportunity came up and I was like, what are the implications of putting the sculpture of a trans person, me, and this you know, euphoric moment in my life commemorating my top surgery, inside of this man made toxic lake. I became obsessed with the metaphor within that and I’m still obsessed with it. I’m now sort of in a year-long project around this lake and the relationship to these sculptures. But yeah, I was just like, oh, this sea is an uncanny comparison to this project of developing these sculptures. Did you say you’re working on another project that surrounds the same concept? Is it an expansion of the photo or a different project altogether?Next year in April for the festival, I’m hoping that we’re going to be done with the 12 sculptures that we’re building as part of the Angels collection. And once we’re done, I want to install it in the sea in a semi circle position and do some kind of performance in relation to them. But it feels like a reference to the Last Supper. A lot of my work is for some reason organically in response to classical and religious themes. I think because the scale of that kind of art, even Renaissance period art, is the only