Atlas

_{Analogue, colour photographs.

C-print on Epson paper, metal brackets, mdf,
monitors, text fragments on post-its, artist book.
Dimensions variable.

2017

Installation view: KHM Gallery (Malmö, SE)}

_{“Consider the blue, you said, and released the colour from the sky”. After our fission, I carry myself into the blue again to become part of a collection and part of an atlas. The connection with the pictures is the body - the colour is the asset of light. If colours were a room in which I could lie, or my body was a room in which you moved. I’m waiting for the second it breaches. Hallelujah.” (from Atlas, artist book, published by tacet press).

The progression of the exhibited photographs, as you move through the gallery, follows a camera’s exposure over time: they start in the under-exposed and wordless, where all colours are driven out of the photographs. From black they will fade into grey. Then, rose and timid yellow would start to appear. Then green.
It would end in the narrator’s normal state — in the colour blue as a kind of balance. The intensity and hue of the colours are directly derived from daylight and the camera's exposure. The viewer's passage through the gallery would be a movement through a colour scheme and thus a movement through time.}

_{Untitled (wave), 2017. Analogue, colour photograph. Inkjet print on paper, 100x100 cm}

_{Untitled (interior) & Untitled (portrait), 2017. Analogue, colour photograph.

Inkjet print on paper, 100x100 cm each}

_{Snylter, 2017. Text fragments on post-it}

^{(detail) Untitled, (torso), 2017. Analogue, colour photograph.

Inkjet print on paper, 100x100 cm}

^{Atlas, 2017. Artist book (68 pages, 13 unfolding “maps”)
Edited and printed by Tacet Press}

^{Installation view. Circuit I and II}
^{Two videos on loop speaking different languages (one in moving images, the other in subtitles)}

^{I’m translating all
the time. In order to communicate, I’ve got to translate. It’s quite simple. This text moved from Danish to
English. I constructed a video sequence with this in mind. The material consisted
of recordings of starlings hunting insects; these birds
turned up in home videos that I got from my mother.
The chattering of starlings moves rhythmically, as if
the starlings were one collective body. Whenever the
chattering took on what I understood to be a solid
form, I would pause the video and take a picture. I did
this until I only had solid forms. Subsequently, I put the pictures in motion, animated them, and
created a new rhythm. A ritualistic, repetitive chattering of starlings. A visual language, displayed on a
screen, in a short loop. On another screen, I had another circuit, a chattering of words moving forward as
a wave. In this manner, the two screens try to sustain a conversation about the circuit, albeit it becomes
interrupted by the difference between languages, in
the internal genesis of the misunderstandings.}