Work

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Man seeks comfort in finding ways of creating relevance and meaning by restlessly roaming the past, present and future looking for connections, and thereby confirming the categories and systems we put in place to control and understands the chaos in and around us. When night comes we search the dark space above, and in seeing fragments of crushed light, we whisper in awe, or scream in desperation, is there anybody out there?
We see our own face in the eyes of others, wondering about what and who is living in there. What are we made of? Which figments and parts are common traits, and what is the individual’s unique signature? What is the thin threads connecting us to each other and our selves, and that we hold on to when life gets ruff, as it does at times. The background for the project “Folly of the Impure” is an attempt at probing the undefined feeling of a Meta-existence through looking at the neurological connection between religious activity, the ecstatic, and the creative, all activated from the same part of the brain. The challenge lies of course in transforming information and knowledge about a complex highly specialized field far away from my own into a free artistic statement, and give this a visual dressing free of empiric limitations.

2016

Folly of the Impure

 

Headspace 2016 I_Harrang
Headspace?

Light, let it be Light 2016 I_Harrang
Light, let it be Light!

Don't let the bedbugs bite 2016 I_Harrang
Don’t let the bedbugs bite…

 

 

 

Elsewhere revisited

ELSEWHERE REVISITED

Time washes away. Time came by and went again. It surges forth in its own pace of controlled frenzy. In its wake we find memory-traces, readable remnants of presence.Elsewhere revisited are researching aspects of fragility, memory and transience.

All readymades in the project, except the rescueblankets, are used by the courtesy of Miss Helga Christianne Alexandra (Alix) Ziegler.

Made for a solo show at Østfold Kunstnersenter (ØKS),
18th of January to 2nd of March -14.

2013-2014

lav-9 ny . . . . . . . . . . Echo
Further info . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Echo

 

Mayday. . . . . . . . . . Nightport. . . . . . . . . . .
Mayday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Nightport

 

Elsewhere. . . . . . . . Scraps. . . . . . . . . . .
Elsewhere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Scraps

A global system of emergency numbers exists, whereby the individual in the time of need might call for help. Assistance is available if illness or accidents strike, competent teams of specialists will come to one’s aid if the forces of nature turns hostile, and law and order-enforcement is there if need be.
“To Whom It Might Concern” is a sybolic gift for Kepler, the NASA telescope endlessly searching for signs in the big blue unknown. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2012

 

 

To whom it might concern
To whom it might concern

 

 

 

 

 

 

Interlude, nature

Homecoming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Culling season
The Homecoming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Culling season

 

Who would not like a room of their own, of their own making? Filled entirely with dreams, hopes and aspirations, also of own making. A room of one’s own; – a space defined by mental or physical boundaries where we organize the coordinates we measure our existence against. Where we filter and verify reality to become a controllable and predictable place to be.Into our room of choice, we collect our mementoes as reminders of that which has happened. A memory collection for making sense of time that is no longer now or here, but inexplicably has become past and then.

Collecting, or gathering in system, is one of the more endearing human endeavours. Fulfilling the need for pleasure, the want for security; – and on a tangible scale making order out of chaos. We collect as individuals, and the society in which we belong make collections for us. The former gives identity, a sense of belonging and pleasure, the latter knowledge, information and insight. A collection may be defined as objects categorized according to familiarity, group or sameness, and logically displayed in an orderly fashion. The objects are largely of sentimental or monetary value, or of historical, sociological or anthropological interest.

My collections are scraps and fragments of time and history, mundane relics and objects not necessarily viewed as inherently meaningful. Neither are they precious nor valuable. The objects themselves are insignificant in nature, discarded by design, and fragmentary in appearance. In the process of searching for, selecting and displaying these items, work has emerged that with deals both with the notion of percieving time and the response to experiencing it, viewed through the connectivity of history, the work questions what we deem as valuable. The idea of what the work represents overrides the matter the work consists of; – The objects are as such larger than themselves in that tied together create a work of different relevance than the value of each single component.

During the selection and decisions of what to collect, a kind of organic growth principle has been at play, encrusting the objects with meaning they did not from the onset have. It has been about looking and finding – and about all which has been forgotten. It is the individual obscured by the veil of history, and the remnants of time left for viewing. Presence becomes past, – which can never occur again, can not be lived or experienced again; – and is only attainable or readable through mementoes that somehow belong to the past in question.

My room of my own is inhabited by visual memory-traces of participation and oblivion. Scraps of matter, as brittle as breath, rendered meaningful through manifestations of me being in time, and my understanding of time.
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A room of my own

Because I have made it up, doesn’t mean it is not true.

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Time Experienced .

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Cabinet A & B .

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Cabinet C.

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Box and it’s inner space .


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Portraits .

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Shhh! .

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Archive


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Shelter


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Still waiting for the Toothfairy

 

 

 

Cast glasswork

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Acceptance of loss. . . . . . . . . .Laika. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . To be in a Thin Place

 

Every weekend during a cold central European winter, I spent my time at the Prague Zoo. Looking for the lines that separates the predator from the prey.
The animals were looking out, I was looking in, and then we met somewhere middle ground.
2009/2010

A day at the Zoo

 

 

Glass shard pieces

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Oh Dear. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Black Rainbow

 

Land Art Projects

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Nowhere, Anywhere . . . . . . Reflection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Resonance


It might just hold..

During summers of bliss at “Litjfjellet”, The Small Mountain, surrounded by mountains of mythological stature.2005/2009

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Projects in the sacred space

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Memento Mori . . . . Lux Gratie

Twice I have been in the rewarding position, of using site specific sacred spaces for larger projects. Memento Mori in a small cemetary chapel in Molde, and Lux Gratie for the glass cathedral in Hamar.2001/2003

 

 

 

 

 

Glass book projects

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Fragments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Enantiodromia . . . . . . . . . . . . Dream