Art

I Told You I’d Be Home Most of the Day – A Meditation on Longing by Josef Jägnefält text Natalia Muntean Swedish artist Josef Jägnefält’s first solo exhibition at Saskia Neuman Gallery, I told you I’d be home most of the day, invites viewers into a world where ordinary objects become powerful carriers of hidden stories and emotions. Throughout the exhibition, we are invited to explore the delicate balance between stillness and longing, where the most intimate objects become reflections of human desire. “I don’t think about a story,” says Jägnefält, “I think about the colour and how to get there.” This focus on details and colour lends the works a quiet yet powerful emotional resonance and captures the tension between what is revealed and what is left unsaid, offering a visual meditation on longing and desire. I told you I’d be home most of the day will be on display until September 26th at Saskia Neuman Gallery in Stockholm. Natalia Muntean: Could you tell me a bit about how you started as an artist? Was there a decisive moment when you realised this was what you wanted to do?Josef Jägnefält: I applied to art school, encouraged by friends and family. I initially studied printmaking, but when I applied to university, I focused on painting full-time. NM: Did you grow up in a family of artists?JJ: My mother was a teacher who sometimes taught art classes, though she wasn’t a trained art teacher. She enjoyed it, and her mother was also an amateur painter. It was always present in the family, but no one pursued it as a career until me. My brother is an architect, which is somewhat close. NM: Do you have any routines or methods that help get you into a creative mindset?JJ: Going to the studio every day and just continuing to work is key. Eventually, something happens. My process is slow, using small brushes. It sometimes feels like I haven’t done anything for a week, but when I return to the work, I realise things have moved forward. NM: How does the journey go from gathering images to creating a painting? And how do you decide which ones will become paintings?JJ: I save images on my phone or computer, and they can come from anywhere—books, online, or even everyday observations. Everything gets processed digitally, but I like to print the image to have a physical copy. From there, I might make a simple drawing or use transfer paper to trace it onto canvas or another surface.It’s a very intuitive process. I might find an image, save it, and maybe a year later it resurfaces when it feels ready. It’s not immediate; it’s more about timing and seeing when an image feels right. I print a lot of images and experiment. Instead of starting with a big painting, I might begin with a smaller one to test it. Over time, I’ve painted over so many works, only to later find a picture of the original painting and realise it was interesting. But by then, it’s gone because I painted over it. I’ve ruined many paintings like that and regretted it later. Now, I try to stop before I get to that point, so I can restart the same painting if I need to. NM: How do you decide which materials to use for a painting? What materials or techniques are important for expressing the feelings you want to convey?JJ: I used to buy large canvases and aim for perfection, but it became time-consuming and creatively limiting. After moving to Stockholm, I began using scrap materials like MDF or wood from building sites, which brought more variety into my work. The paint itself is very important. I usually use acrylic paint, which can be in any colour, for my larger paintings. With acrylics, I can be adventurous and use different colours, mixing them as I like. With oils, I limit myself to five colours, inspired by LS Lowry, a British painter known for his industrial landscapes of people in Manchester. This approach has significantly impacted my paintings, as it has forced me to really focus on finding the right colour. I enjoy the challenge of reproducing a printed pattern as closely as possible, but sometimes I can’t get the exact colour I want, which leads to something unexpected and I enjoy that. NM: Are there any materials you’d like to work with in the future?JJ: I’m always curious about new materials. My girlfriend is also an artist, and though she doesn’t paint, she uses a lot of different materials in her work. That’s a great source of inspiration, and we often share materials. NM: Do you give each other feedback on your work?JJ: Always! It’s important to have people you trust. I invite a few close friends to the studio to ask for their opinions. Sometimes you need an outside perspective to see if a piece is finished or if it works. NM: How do you know when a painting is finished?JJ: Sometimes I’m afraid of ruining it, so I stop. There are examples where I stopped too early, but that became a part of the piece. When I put the frame on, it’s like saying goodbye to the painting. NM: When you blend different sources like art history, photography, and magazines, do you feel you’re creating a new story, or are you highlighting elements of existing ones?JJ: It’s a mix. It becomes a narrative, but it’s not a clear-cut story. I don’t have a storyboard or an ending. I want to surprise myself by putting images next to each other, and something happens. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s fun to do. NM: I imagine that it’s like a puzzle? You mix and match the pictures?JJ: I keep painting, and when the paintings are ready, something happens. I might work on several paintings at a time. Many of them get discarded, put on a shelf, and then, much later, I find something interesting

Bateau Rouge, an Interview With Constance Tenvik text Astrid Birnbaum Celebrated for her mastery across performance, textile, sculpture, costume, painting, and drawing, Constance Tenvik stands as a visionary artist, crafting immersive installations that resonate globally. The upcoming exhibition at The Munch Museum in Oslo will no doubt elevate Tenvik to new heights. Whether nestled in artist retreats or exploring new countries, she seamlessly transforms each environment into a curated extension of her vibrant creations. In this global artistic journey, Tenvik’s oeuvre un- folds like a sophisticated maximalist, weaving together narratives, colour theories, and ex- aggerated forms that enchant discerning audiences. Drawing inspiration from the tapestry of humanity, dreams, and mythological fragments, her paintings intricately interweave, creating a chromatic collage that transcends conventional boundaries. Tenvik’s artistic allure has graced exhibitions across the world, solidifying her presence as a revered artist whose work resonates with the global artistic conscience. Astrid Birnbaum: Constance, I would like to begin this interview at the beginning. You are Norwegian but you were born in London in the year of 1990. As a child and teenager – did you surround yourself with creative things?Constance Tenvik: I was dancing Jazz-ballet four times a week and every other weekend until I was 16. I was also singing in a church choir for two years that I ended up in accidentally. I wanted to give emotional support to my friend by showing up with her to the choir audition. I ended up being in the choir but not her. I actually liked it a lot. I was not a perfectionist about it but I liked being part of it. We had a few concerts in the concert house. The nice thing about a choir is that if you leave while everyone is singing, no one will notice. If two people leave, it’s fine. If three people leave it really makes a difference. It’s not really about you, but you are necessary for the choir. I was a child when I picked up some parts of my dads CD collection that had everything from funk to Mozart’s Requiem. There was always music in the house. As a teenager I tried to find excuses to draw, I liked reading books and I was in a poetry club. I was already writing a diary. I still do, every day. I think a lot of artists have a need of documenting and remembering moments and making them last longer. I have recorded many things in my life – small things like everyday conversations, food, music and interactions. AB: When growing older you studied art. You went to Yale University School of arts where you did your masters degree. How were your years in art school?CT: My undergrad experience at the Academy of Art in Oslo gave me a good foundation. I still keep in touch with some of my professors from back then and remember things they shared with me. The Yale experience felt like I was building a vault of my interests. I had access to most courses across all fields, which is incredible. You could go to the biology department if you wanted to – you could go everywhere to learn. My daily route was studio – library – home. That was my little world there. I’d go to the Be inecke library for old manuscripts and I’d go to the HAAS library after studio visits when someone had just mentioned ten new artist names. I could then find a bunch of books about these artists and just flip through it all. Having libraries like that so close and in such an elevated environment – it really helped me build my world of thoughts and references. I am still ruminating over the things I learnt and the academic interests that were formed there. I was in the sculpture department, my studio was messy and full of experiments. I made a lot of things – like a bathtub out of paper mache with a three-breasted monster in it. “I seek more freedom through my paintings,” says Swedish artist Malin Molin as we stand in front of Dear eyes, what are you looking at?, one of her works from her current solo show, Ekfraser. Born in Gothenburg in 1989, Molin is exhibiting for the second time in a solo show, Ekfrases (Ekphrases), at Gallery Wetterling in Stockholm. Derived from the Greek ekfras, the title describes a commentary on a visual work of art, with the artist intending to offer a commentary on today’s culture of image. Molin says she has an ambiguous relationship with the images we see online, and in our everyday lives. She is equally fascinated and enthralled by the neverending stream of imagery that can be found online, while also rebelling through her paintings against these same images deciding so many things for us, without us even being aware of it happening. The starting point for the colour-saturated paintings making up the exhibition are prompts given to AI software, such as Open Ai’s Dall-e 3 or Midjourney. This is an essential part of Molin’s attempt to understand the systems of image production that shape our reality, desires, minds, and bodies while counterbalancing these systems with oil painting. “I wanted to bring the flat images we see online and bring more movement, more body, more physicality to them. I believe that paintings offer the possibility of more immersion, more interaction and more awareness of your physical body,” she says about the movement, and livelihood even, present in her works. Rather than focusing on their visual meaning, Molin aims to draw attention to how the images were constructed. While the images are mostly inspired by animal and vegetal motifs, they are characterised by artificial lighting and a pinch of eccentricity. “I always feel a sense of dread before an exhibition and a feeling of it not being good enough,” she confesses. This time these feelings pushed her to start working on one more addition to the exhibition just two weeks before the

Until the Morning, in Conversation With Sophie Allgårdh & Katarina Löfström text Natalia Muntean We can talk about Katarina Löfström’s art and describe it in different ways, but to me, it’s poetry. It’s both poetic and cerebral,” says Sophie Allgårdh, curator of “Visions,” an exhibition featuring video works and sculptural installations by Katarina Löfström, at the Thiel Gallery in Stockholm. Often referred to as Stockholm’s hidden jewel, the Thiel Gallery exhibits a unique collection of Nordic late 19th and early 20th-century art, hosting the largest and most significant Edvard Munch collection outside of Norway and works signed by Rodin, Vigeland, Carl Larsson and others. Starting on May 25th until October 20th, the museum will host “Visions.”. Born in 1970 in Falun and currently living and working in Stockholm, the artist Katarina Löfström will exhibit pieces created from 2001, such as “Whiteout”, as well as newer works; some inspired by the Swedish painter Stefan Johansson (1876–1955). Johans- son’s bold studies of light are displayed alongside Löfström’s work in an exhibition called “A New Light”, on show at the Thiel Gallery from March 23rd to September 1. With a background in creating scripts for pop videos for the likes of Madonna and Prodigy, and at certain points in her life hosting bootleg clubs, Löfström takes a lot of inspiration from electronic music when creating and trying to achieve almost the impossible – visualising music and trying to grasp the intangible. “I work mainly with video in close connection with sound or music. These ideas of music and visuals having an almost sacred bond have always been there, and I try to find that perfect balance between the music and the visuals. Some of my works depict light and explore the different ways it can be used for meditation or contemplation,” says Löfström. This fascination with light became her connection to the Thiel Gallery and the paintings that adorn the museum’s walls. “Many of the paintings from that era depict twilight, early mornings, and nights that are almost entirely illuminated with very little sunset. This makes them particularly special for Nordic art because these kinds of evenings are unique to this part of the world,” says Allgårdh. Löfström’s art is ethereal, quiet even, and it invites you to sit with it. To sit with your emotions and yourself. This feeling is strengthened by the history and gravitas of the Thiel Gallery, whose walls have witnessed countless stories of the human experience. “I create situations where hopefully I can let things be open and let you find a platform where you can think and judge for yourself. I work intuitively and art is a free space for me where I don’t have to perform intellectually. I try not to overthink while I’m working,” says Löfström. When asked about her hope for the exhibition, Löfström says that she would want the works from the permanent collection to be the gateway into her work because they all try to grasp the intangible – understanding the condition of being human. “Something that I recognise within my perspective when I look at the artists that are in this collection, is the interest in the human gaze: the way you look at things, how you deconstruct an image, and what is it that you see,” says Löfström. She applies this skill to her work, breaking down and reassembling topics that capture her attention. During the time of Signe Maria and Ernest Thiel, the ones who commissioned the villa at the beginning of the 1900s and built the permanent collection, the large gallery halls served as a stage for art in all of its manifestations. Any expression of artistry, whether music, poetry, philosophy, or dance, was present in the villa, embodying the idea of Gesamtkunstwerk – a cradle where various forms of art created by different artists come together to form a unified whole. This legacy is something the museum preserves through exhibitions and a dynamic programming that bring together different iterations of art and create a contrast to the sobriety of the permanent collection, this being the case with the ethereal nature of Löfström’s work. “Katarina is shedding a new light on the permanent collection, putting it into a new setting, and giving it a different understanding,” says Allgårdh. “I think it’s interesting how she has evolved and has become braver but still kept true to the core of her art. The moving images are still there.” While abstract, her work always reflects a concept or an idea that she is drawn to and wants to express and is inspired by personal issues that she needs to address, but her themes are universal. “We’re so similar to the people who once frequented this house,” says Löfström. “Those artists had the same longings, the same core as any person. We all go through loss, angst and love.” The Thiel Gallery, beautifully set in the Royal Park of Djurgården in Stockholm, houses a world class collec- tion of paintings and sculptures by Nordic artists from the turn of the century 1900. Temporary exhibitions are arranged year around. Café Monika Ahlberg offers lunches and homemade cakes with outdoor serving in the sculpture park during spring and summer. In the museum shop you find unique products inspired by the art collection. Bus 67 and Boat 80. Opening hours: Tuesday–Sunday 12 pm–5 pm(May–September: Thursday 12-8 pm).

Variables as Absence of Uniformity – Romanian Artists Exhibit at Wetterling Gallery text Natalia Muntean Featuring artworks by six Romanian artists, Variables as Absence of Uniformity, has freedom as the centrepiece idea that the exhibition revolves around. Through varied artistic means and interpretations, the six Romanian artists invite the audience to an intergenerational conversation about manners in which socio-political and ecological changes might impact and shape one’s perception of freedom. Lia Perjovschi (b. 1961) has been creating thought-provoking art for nearly four decades, focusing on social dynamics and resistance. Her work spans various mediums, from performance to installations, often highlighting the female form as a powerful symbol of empowerment. Mădălina Zaharia (b. 1985) is an artist and filmmaker whose practice blurs the lines between art, design, and storytelling. She uses language and visual elements to transform exhibition spaces into arenas for conceptual discourse and abstract entertainment. Giulia Crețulescu (b. 1994) takes an interdisciplinary approach, creating objects that explore the relationship between human beings and objects. Her work invites viewers to consider the potential for new identities and ontologies. Iulia Toma (b. 1974) uses textiles as a medium to weave narratives that address social issues such as feminism and social justice. Her work speculates on ecological futures and the role of adaptation in hostile environments. s.a.b.a. (Silvia Amancei & Bogdan Armanu) have been collaborating since 2012, combining their backgrounds in mural art and painting with new media to challenge the physical and conceptual limits of objects within a capitalist framework. The show is a collaboration between Stockholm-based Wetterling Gallery and the Bucharest-based Ivan Gallery and is on display at Wetterling Gallery in Stockholm until July 5th.

“When You Lose the Heart Behind Your Work, Nothing Works” – How Devon Dejardin Is Weaving His Story” text Natalia Muntean Photography Sandra Myhrberg “I am intense. But I walk with lightness,” says Devon DeJardin as we stand before Passing Through, his favourite painting from his new show, Pareidolia, and the one he relates to the most. The painting depicts two figures—one receding into the background, in darker hues, and the other leading the way, subtly lighter but still exuding intensity. It’s a sort of allegory for the struggles he’s been through and left behind, and the self that emerged afterwards. Lighter, but carrying a certain depth. I met DeJardin right before the vernissage of his first solo show outside of the US, at Hospitalet in Stockholm, and he generously walked me through his paintings. Pareidolia, produced by Carl Kostyäl Gallery and on display between June 12th and July 21st, is the result of five years of exploring the concept of what he calls ‘secular guardians.’ There is a precision to his art and the human-like figures he paints are made out of geometric shapes, almost floating out of the canvas.  The 30-year-old artist grew up in Portland, influenced by a watercolourist grandmother who often took him to museums as a child. “I didn’t enjoy sitting in museums, but I was exposed to art from an early age, so I became drawn to storytelling and the narratives behind artworks,” he recalls. At 15, he began dabbling in fashion, establishing a T-shirt brand with his business-savvy brother. They won business competitions and expanded into all 50 US states and 16 countries. This venture led to a luxury menswear brand that offered new lessons. “It taught me how to take an object, apply a story and a narrative to it, and then share that with the world. And hopefully, someone will buy it.” However, the fashion industry proved fickle and the brand never really took off, leaving DeJardin to question what it was he truly wanted to do. At the time, I had about 1,000 Instagram followers and posted some of my clothing stuff. I got a message from an artist in Indiana asking to talk. I was wary, but agreed for $100 for 10 minutes. I took the call while driving to San Diego for a friend’s wedding and it ended up being a two-hour conversation. The first thing he asked was if I was spiritual. I replied that it depends. I grew up in a conservative Christian family and studied world religion and theology at university because I wanted to understand everything and not just believe what my parents did. He told me he had been thinking about and praying for me for a couple of years. I was confused because we didn’t know each other. He felt like he was supposed to call me that morning and ask if I had ever painted. I replied that I hadn’t, only drawn a bit for the clothing line. So he encouraged me to try painting because he thought it could be good for me. After hanging up, he sent me $100. Driving back from San Diego, I stopped at a craft store, bought a cheap canvas, paints, and Sharpies, and started drawing on the canvas at my apartment. I didn’t know what to do, so I drew shapes and patterns. I sent a picture to the artist and asked if this was it. He said I should keep going. During that process, spending time alone and focused on one thing, I felt a weight lift off me. It became part of my routine. I couldn’t afford many canvases, so I used overstock jackets from a clothing brand to create art. I posted my designs on Instagram, and some musicians in LA wanted to buy them. This allowed me to make some money, and I eventually rented an art studio in Hollywood. Six months after that call, I bought good canvases and paints and started figuring it out. During that time drawing on the jackets, I started making these faces out of shapes because I didn’t know how to technically draw a human’s face. The shape formation turned into these portrait-style things you see now—very primitive, two-dimensional, no shading, no real colour, just kind of outlines. I made a series of five-foot by six-foot canvases and hung them up on the wall, putting a little story on my Instagram. A friend wanted to buy one for $2,000. His parents, who had a significant art collection, contacted me and bought two pieces for $16,000. Their network saw my work, and demand grew. That moment, six months after that conversation, spiraled everything. Because of them owning the piece, another family wanted to own a piece. And it just started going. I had to take a moment to realise, “Okay, this is something that could really work!” NM: Was that overwhelming?DD: It was overwhelming, for sure, because I was painting just to paint and trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I didn’t feel I had a story attached to it yet. When it started becoming real, I needed to take a step back. I also needed to make sure that I created a narrative and a story that is true to who I am and what I’ve learned. NM: Did you keep any of those first pictures?DD: I kept a couple. I like to maintain a few works from each year to remind myself of certain things. In my studio in Los Angeles, I often show visitors what I’m working on, and the originals so they can see and understand the progression. Natalia Muntean: Can you tell me more about closing the chapter with menswear and finding your interest in art?Devon DeJardin: It was a gradual process, slowly losing connection with what I was doing. When you lose the heart behind your work, nothing works. Telling my brother I wanted to step out was tough. We had this brand, and people saw us as “the clothing

Hank Grüner: Bridging Cultures and Transformative Mythology in Public Art text Art Editor We met up with the artist Hank Grüner (b.1991 Bogota, Colombia) who currently lives and works in Stockholm. Grüner approaches his artistic practice from a place of adoption, resulting in a personal history and deeply personal experiences, paired with an exploration of cultural heritage, belonging, and transformative mythology. He portrays these themes in his latest exhibition ’Signs from above’, which features six sculptural works displayed over 96 square meters on the facade of Sthlm02 Studion, a creative initiative by Skanska Fastigheter in Hammarby Sjöstad.Grüner is represented by Coulisse Gallery in Stockholm. His previous exhibitions include solo shows at Bam Berlin, Galleri Thomassen, and the Swedish Embassy in Paris, among others. He has also gained attention for his collaboration with Our Legacy. Why are you doing an exhibition in Hammarby Sjöstad?I have dreamt about creating something this big for a long time, that dream also involved creating something public that would reach people on a bigger scale. This peace will be a part of peoples daily routine, their way to work and schools. My goal is always to reach people that normally don’t get in touch with art and that also makes the form of public art even more appealing to me. The opportunity to make this artwork came through the building company Skanska, which I am really grateful for. Tell us more about your background.I was born in Colombia and came to Sweden and my new family when I was three months. My whole life has been coloured by the fact that I was adopted. The question of What if? That sliding doors moment. When I create something, I always include those questions and sometimes I find answers in my creations. I find time after time that my heritage is set deep into my bones, how I paint flowers and patterns with colors that are so significant for my Colombian heritage and typical for where I came from.I am not traditional in how I work, I never finished any art school and learned most of what I know through my mentor and former boss Christopher Nying, founder and CD of Our Legacy. My work includes paintings, sculptures, ceramics, and more. Describe your creative process for this project.My assignment was to fill 96 square meters divided into 6 different spaces along a house facade. The spacing made me think of a theatre scene and display windows and how they tell a story. I also took a lot of inspiration from the stage, and how a performance took place on the stage that I created through my artwork. The thought from the beginning was to make a huge painting but I wanted to take it one step further and create something more 3D. The result is cutouts of wood, creating layers of shapes that I painted in stain colours. This is by far the biggest project I made and I needed a big space to work in, Skanska provided me with a 1000 square meter temporary studio next to the house that I was supposed to decorate. The studio is on the ninth floor overlooking the city, and the name signs from above became pretty obvious. Since this period of creating this piece has taken place at the same time as I just became a parent, this time in my life truly special. I have worked through nights watching the sun both set and come up over the city, this process will be a memory that I will carry through my life. Do you have any other exciting projects coming up? We heard something about Milan?Yes, it’s true that I have a project coming up in Milan. For the first time, I will exhibit a series of photos which I think is super exiting. The photos are portraying boat engines and how people cover them in blankets to protect them from wind, sand, and salt. The exhibition is a collaboration with Our Legacy and will be shown at their showroom in Milan during fashion week. Hank Grüner is currently featured in an exhibition in the new area Sthlm New in Hammarby Sjöstad, opening on June 12 from 5 to 7 PM.

Everything I Do, Every Step I Take, Has to Be Connected to Reality. A Conversation With Ylva Snöfrid. text Astrid Birnbaum Photography Sandra Myhrberg Known for her innovative blend of painting and performance, Ylva Snöfrid has captivated audiences worldwide with her unique exploration of existential themes. Her works are deeply introspective, often drawing on historical motifs to delve into the human experience. Her current exhibition, part of the Cosmos Vanitas series, is titled Jungfraujoch – High Altitude Paintings and is showcased at CFHILL in Stockholm. It takes us to Jungfraujoch, the second-highest viewing point in Europe, where Snöfrid’s artistry melds with the breathtaking elevation. The resulting celestial maps chart the intimate terrains of human existence. Central to Ylva’s work is the theme of ‘Vanitas’, reflecting on life’s transience. Her paintings don’t just depict this; they embody it, with each brushstroke and colour choice resonating with the vibrancy of life amidst change. Ylva, I would like to begin at the beginning. Looking back, what first inspired you to pursue a career in art?I think I understood very early that I was an artist. My parents were also making art, even though they had ordinary jobs. They lived like artists. Even though my childhood was a struggle in many ways, they were very supportive of me making things. There are specific moments from my childhood when I realized I was an artist. One was when I was around six and I made some drawings of the queen from Elsa Beskow’s Midsummer tale. The queen was helping the wild weeds and the flowers to get together to have a party. The tale is about a girl who falls asleep and sees the world of these plants. I tried to make a portrait of her, but I couldn’t manage to draw her like Elsa Beskow. I was so disappointed with myself. It was such a struggle, and I could not stop. It was more important than many other things in my life at that moment. Part of my life as an artist began during my childhood. I had a mirror twin who lived behind the mirrors, named Snöfrid, while I was Ylva. I wrote a poem about her as a child, and she gradually became more real, embodying my artwork. Once, I created her as an alcoholic beverage that I distilled on paintings for an installation, inviting people to ‘drink’ her. During interviews, she accompanied me and even answered questions. Consequently, some interviews featured Ylva, Snöfrid, and the interviewer. Unable to rid myself of her presence, I eventually created a life-sized doll with my proportions. When my family and I moved to Athens, I felt the need to take the next step in my artistic practice, necessitating a transmutation. This eight-hour ritual, performed through a mirror, was part of a show in Montpellier curated by Nicolas Bourriaud. I sat on paintings, inviting the audience to participate. In a small tent, I conducted the actual ritual, meeting Snöfrid in the mirror. I painted my vagina on small paintings and invited people to sit down, serving her—us—on these paintings. Through this process, I abandoned my surname and became Ylva Snöfrid, uniting us as one. We are now physically connected all the time. I wear gold joints—gold jewellery around my waist, wrists, neck, and fingers—gradually covering my entire body. These joints symbolize our connection and frequently appear in my paintings. The use of gold has multiple reasons. In my childhood, within an anthroposophic environment, I received gold injections to strengthen my sense of self and create a boundary between the outer and inner worlds. I administered these injections myself into my belly. Your current exhibition, ‘Jungfraujoch – High Altitude Paintings,’ shown at CFHILL, takes us to the heights of the Swiss Alps. What drew you to this remote location?In my artistic practice, I have always worked with my own life and body as the foundation for my artwork. My approach is highly subjective and intuitive, building on my personal experiences. I have explored themes from my own childhood to motherhood, including significant events like giving birth. For instance, my father was a heroin addict during my childhood, and this profoundly influenced my paintings and overall artistic practice. For me, art must be as real and tangible as the ordinary reality I perceive. In the five years before starting the project that culminated in this exhibition, I lived in Athens with my family. In Athens, I created a secluded artwork that was essentially a home, complete with furniture and paintings. We slept on paintings, we ate on paintings. This immersive experience prompted me to look beyond the confines of this project and explore the external world in a more existential manner, recognizing that I live on Earth, a planet that offers a broader, planetary experience. This exploration extended to the cosmos and my connection to the world on a larger scale. As part of this study, I created three monumental paintings, “Cosmos and Vanitas,” each 7×6 meters high, which are installed in Lund. This project involved visiting various places to explore the connection between mass and atmosphere. My husband, Rodrigo, discovered the Jungfraujoch research station, situated at an altitude of 3,500 meters. It is one of the highest research stations globally, attracting researchers from around the world. Rodrigo applied on my behalf for the opportunity to stay there. Therefore, I went up this high mountain. How did the environment of Jungfraujoch affect your creative process?I went there thinking I was going to do a study on the atmosphere and mass. But I didn’t really think that it could affect me physically. When I arrived, a whole other process started within myself, inside my body. The first thing I felt was this very high pressure on my brain. Later, my eyesight improved dramatically because my eyeballs actually adjusted to the pressure. I felt very bad physically. I started to get high altitude sickness, and I was just in that feeling somehow. I got worse and worse, hour by

Issa Salliander and Den of Wolves text Rosel Jackson Stern The game development company 10 Chambers has partnered with Mexico-based Swedish artist Issa Salander to create new work for their upcoming title Den Of Wolves. Issa has produced a series of physical paintings to inspire the game in a collaboration between fine art and digital world-building. The paintings feature a series of character masks, some of which will be featured in the game Den Of Wolves. The idea is to honour the physical craft of storytelling with game development. This is the company’s first of many collaborations with creatives ranging from dancers to choreographers and fashion designers.Odalisque caught up with Issa this Wednesday at Ericssonhallen in Stockholm, where her work is installed 8-9th of May. Rosel: What has been the process of developing these images? Where do you get inspiration from?Issa: I’ve grown up in many different places. Right now I’m in Mexico and spent a total of 12 years there. It’s a beautiful and surreal place, full of contradiction. The contrast between light and dark, good and evil is an important part of what inspires me. I like to create work that lies in the spectrum between what society considers opposites to each other.I start by creating a digital collage for each painting so that the piece has a frame of reference. One piece features the hair of Andy Warhol, a Second World War gas mask with a gold-plated mask underneath. R: You come from a fine art background. What appealed to you about collaborating with a gaming company?I: I enjoy a challenge and the chance to develop my practice. This project was an opportunity to see things from a different perspective. In fine art, we talk about the artist, the work, and the viewer. With this project, there’s a fourth actor: the user. That’s a novel concept for me and I want to incorporate new experiences and points of view in my work.I was never interested in AI art. When I was approached with this idea, it felt like a push beyond the limitations of AI; I got to make the work I wanted and have it introduced into a digital world by extremely talented artists. It’s incredibly exciting. R: What’s it like to hand over your work to be interpreted by others, in this case, game designers?I: It’s nerve-racking but deeply inspiring. Game designers are artists and they possess skills that I admire. I’ve always loved gaming aesthetics so this project felt like a no-brainer. 10 Chambers has given me the space to come up with my vision and total creative freedom. R: What do you hope fellow artists can take away from this project?I: I hope it broadens their horizons to what commercial partnerships can look like. I hope companies invest in artists while giving them the freedom to create. Partnerships like this can open up your work to a new audience and the opportunity to play in their world. 10 Chambers have been generous enough to surrender artistic control to be inspired. That’s how we end up with something beautiful. Den Of Wolves does not yet have a release date.

“It’s Our Time to Be Nurtured”: How Mia Bonhomme Is Creating a Haven for Black Women in Stockholm text Rosel Jackson Stern Photography Sandra Myhrberg In 2020, Mia Bonhomme took a chance. She rented a yoga studio in Stockholm at the height of the pandemic and 12 Black women, who didn’t know each other, showed up. As they dropped in, each person was greeted with the bright smiles and warm familiarity of seeing a long-lost cousin. “Oh, do y’all know each other?” Mia asked one of the participants. “No, we don’t, we’re just happy to see each other” they replied. This is when Mia knew she had stumbled upon something special. “All I wanted was for a Black girl to walk into a room and five other Black girls to say: ‘Hey!’ It’s something we do without thinking back home”, she explains, “I didn’t know how much it fed my soul until it stopped happening to me.” This sense of connection, of kindred spirits, of community, is inherent to Mia’s origins in Mobile, Alabama. She grew up in all Black communities and the gifts therein. “It’s the feeling of being seen and immediately identified. There is safety in that” she reflects in a dingy but delicious sushi restaurant in Stockholm. Having moved here in 2018, Mia struggled to feel like she belonged in a culture so far from where she came from. “In the States, when you see another Black person, you always give them the nod,” Mia explains, “You throw positive energy their way.” Upon arriving in Sweden, she quickly realised she was a far cry from her home town. “People would always tell me that Black people [in Sweden] don’t really get together like that” Mia explains when recounting her experience. When she would walk down the street, see a fellow Black girl with cute braids and let her know, the person would always look at her in confusion. Repeatedly losing this sense of connection with other Black women in a new country confused her. “It makes you feel like you don’t know how to operate in the culture you’re in”, she reflects. Despite meeting a community of mostly expat American Black women, Mia felt lonely. Sweden’s been ranked one of the worst places on the planet for making new friends by InterNations.  We’re one of the world’s most individualistic countries, according to the global research project the World Values Survey (WVS) and over half of all households consist of a single person, according to Eurostat. On top of that, these stats don’t reflect the impact of systemic racism in workplaces, dating scenes and public spaces. Sweden can be a lonely place. Where many of us would conform and make do, Mia went against the grain. “There’s no way Black people don’t kiki here. I refuse to believe it” she states, eyes twinkling. And she’s right. Afroswedes have been living full and rich lives in Sweden since at least the 70s, organised politically and socially through initiatives like Afrosvenskarnas Riksförbund and Black Coffee and made their mark in arts and culture. As an immigrant, it can be difficult to find these spaces and traditions. When I ask her where this tenacity comes from, she giggles with a sense of mischief. “I will ask the same question five times in different ways to get the answer that I want. I’ve been like that my whole life.” When speaking to Afroswedes around her, Mia started to understand that the will to connect was there. It just needed an outlet.  Photography Sandra Myhrberg The yoga class she set up in 2020 was a huge success. It became the first Altar Space event, the start of a separatist collective for Black women in Stockholm. It’s a chance for the community to get together for wellness events like yoga, reiki and book clubs. “It’s not just a network,” Mia explains, “There needs to be more — someone tasked with making sure we meet up, hug on each other, read together and yell on each other’s kids. That’s a job.” Altar Space could just be a group chat but Mia has built a tangible way for Black women to show up for each other. I’ve felt this personally, from Mia and the wider Altar Space community. During my first art show, I was so nervous to put myself out there. I had mentioned it at one of the Altar Space events and Mia jumped into action. She sent out emails to all the Altar Space members and low and behold, my show was filled with beautiful and loving people cheering me on. “We are going to pull up,” Mia states as I recount how special that memory is to me. She shows me a photo from the show, now on the Altar Space official website. I scream in joy, much to the dismay of the white couple also sitting in the restaurant. The urgency of this work is not lost on Mia. When I ask about the labour of love I and many of my peers have enjoyed, she says: “It is 100% rooted in Blackness, in Black women and femmes and my life experience. I’ve always needed a Black feminine nurturer.” A study from 2014 that Afroswedes are the minority most likely to be subject to racially motivated physical violence in public places. As of 2022, anti-black hate crimes are the second most common type to occur. Anecdotally, workplace discrimination and burnout are not uncommon experiences in our community. “A lot of us grow up without safety”, Mia reflects. In light of this bleak reality, separatist spaces like Altar Space are needed more than ever.  “It’s our time to be nurtured,” Mia says. This community isn’t simply about staying in touch but playing an active role in each other’s lives. For Mia, community is about building an ecosystem with all the reciprocity that life needs to sustain itself. This means encouraging growth beyond each event. “I can bring us together for an

Marta Galindo García: “I Became an Artist by Pure Chance” text Natalia Muntean portrait courtesy of Marta Galindo Garcí “DIGITAL-AFTERLIFE-INSTALLATION-VIEWS ©Claudia Ihrek” – Claudia Ihrek Marta Galindo García is a Madrid-based artist. After studying at the University of Seville and De Montfort University (Leicester, UK), she completed her studies at the Complutense University of Madrid with a master’s degree in artistic research and creation. Her first solo exhibition took place at the Valencia Gallery Tuesday to Friday in 2021, followed by “Digital Afterlife” in 2022. What is the story behind your exhibition during Stockholm Art Week?I’m participating in the show with my piece Deepest Image of Itself, a sound installation piece that invokes Joan Didion’s legacy through her writing, specifically her article “The Santa Ana”, and through her personal objects. Ashik Zaman invited me to explore Didion’s work, and while researching online, I discovered an auction held after her death, selling some of her personal belongings. I thought it was an interesting way to get to know and remember someone, through her possessions, so I decided to include some of them in the installation. In parallel, among several readings, her text ‘The Santa Ana’ struck a personal chord with me. The article explains how the east winds from California, named The Santa Ana winds, create an eerie meteorological ambience with an orangish light, and sound and provoke weird behaviour in people. In Cádiz, my hometown, we have exactly the same phenomenon, and each of her words resonated in a very intimate way with my personal experience. Deepest image of itself aims to recreate this eerie atmosphere, akin to the effect of the Santa Ana winds—a space where Didion’s words continue to resonate through time. What inspired you to become an artist, and how has your artistic journey evolved?I’m an artist because I wanted to be a spy. During my childhood, I was obsessed with TV series like Totally Spies, Kim Possible, Spy Kids, CSI… As I grew up and started to consider professional careers, the most similar job I could think of was that of a criminal investigator. My parents quickly convinced me it might be a tough job so I looked for alternatives. Then archaeology entered the scene. It had a similar methodology, as it also involved investigation, gathering evidence, and conducting tests. The available academic degree for archaeology at that time was Conservation and Restoration. It shared subjects with Fine Arts in the first year, which made sense; you shouldn’t restore a painting without knowing how to create one yourself. That’s when I realised I am a more creative of a person than a clinical one, so I ended up enrolling in Fine Arts the following course. I Became an artist by pure chance. Somehow, I think I still keep that detective spirit. Afterall, an artist is quite an investigator. Regarding my artistic journey, I have had a very sincere and eclectic practice, I started focusing a lot on painting but, as soon as I achieved my first studio, I quickly started to play with different processes and mediums. I love to play with materials or objects which aren’t meant to be used in art, not only for their materiality but also for their political dimension. When someone asks what kind of art I make, it’s always a tricky question. So far I’ve done installations, sound performances, video installations, sculptures, paintings… I always try to choose freely and fearlessly the medium that feels more loyal to the topic I’m researching, the one that activates it more. What is your creative process like, and how do you approach developing new ideas and concepts for your work?I usually start with a deep, long and obsessive process of research and reading.I would say that’s probably my favourite part: learning new things and drawing unexpected connections between topics and data. Once I have an idea, Itend to design the piece in a very calculated style. Lately, I’ve been trying to lose myself a bit more on improvisation and accidents, but I’m still working on that. Regardless, I’m usually drawn to exhibitions that feel enveloping, surrounding and gentle to the public, with an irreverent and playful component. Sometimes art can get boring and snobbish, and I love the sensation of entering a room with this kind of installation and feeling embraced by it. They provide an uncommon space where one enters to be part of, versus a more traditional format of facing something, inspected from a distance. How one engages and questions things depends deeply on the position one occupies. What role do you think art plays in society, and how do you see your work contributing to or challenging societal norms?It may sound a bit cheesy but for me, it’s about feeding the spirit. The sensation of walking out of an interesting exhibition, movie, or theatre performance, or even watching a music video— “DIGITAL-AFTERLIFE-INSTALLATION-VIEWS ©Claudia Ihrek” – Claudia Ihrek “Expo_SePropagaranSinRetorno_INJUVE_20” – Instituto de la Juventud ”INSTALLATION-VIEWS-ADD-TO-WISHLIST-01©dibusdibus” – dibusdubus whatever kind of art moves me—is almost like a magical, precious event in our routine and dutiful working lives. It’s just like a sweet awakening that interrupts the humdrum and leaves a hint to follow and dive into. If one can find those moments at least once a month, that’s being lucky. Of course, if those moments can raise questions or reflections on important subjects, which they often do, that’s some serious candy. Are there any particular themes or subjects that consistently appear in your work, and if so, what draws you to them?The question of technology and magic is a constant in my work. I often address the subjects in relation to others, like digital legacy and physical death; how to survive a possible apocalypse with digital technology waste, fabulous battle drones who can learn empathy instead of violence and desert the army… I’m quite a drifter when it comes to topics because I’m constantly looking for different issues that relate to personal concerns and keep my curiosity alive and moving. “DIGITAL-AFTERLIFE-INSTALLATION-VIEWS ©Claudia Ihrek” – Claudia Ihrek “Expo_SePropagaranSinRetorno_INJUVE_20” –