MikeAdamsArtist.com Blog

Yes, it’s true. I’m here in Norway on a Fulbright grant to work on my sculpture. For more information about the grant, and other ways you can share this adventure, click here. You can also subscribe to the blog by clicking on the icon which gives you an RSS reader or email option for receiving updates.

Well, YouTube allows long video uploads, so I thought, “Why not?” Here is the video that I am currently projecting in Skibladnir. I change the video loop almost daily, making slight variations, as I tweak it to make sure that it’s bright enough, and that it “looks right.” This is the variation for today. So, if you have some time on your hands, let ‘er rip!

Well, I don’t really think I am a control-freak, but I am picky! Being an artist is like being a parent. You create things: your kids or works of art, but you don’t own them. They need you, but not forever.
Yesterday at the museum it was bright inside because the sun was shining (and it was a balmy -12C / 10F outside), and my videos were washed-out, although not invisible. I suppose I could have lamented the fact, especially as I was going to give a talk (hoping to sound brilliant, etc.), but Skibladnir is her own girl now. She can float above the ground in any kind of light. Actually, the bright light showed-off the zig-zagging grid, which is the framework that holds the fabric panels, and is an integral part of the sculpture visually. I am reminded of something I heard on a broadcast from the Metropolitan Opera. An orchestra member related that someone asked Philip Glass how they ought to play a passage from his opera Satyagraha, and Glass said that the work was no longer his, that it was for others to create. So, in my case, it’s for the viewer to create an experience with, and a meaning for Skibladnir.
I thought I’d share more of what I talked about yesterday with the group at the museum, but much of what I said has been covered before in this blog. What I don’t think I have mentioned is that Skibladnir is an opposite of the ships. She is feminine where they are masculine; light where they are dark; floating while they are sitting, soft where they are hard. I looked up Skibladnir on Wikipedia (notice the variant spellings if you view the page), and found the quote that Skibladnir “is the best of ships,” so it’s fitting that she is in the Viking Ship Museum with the real best-of-ships. She’s the same-opposite.

Here are some pictures from the opening day of the exhibition on February 1st, 2012. These pictures belie the throngs of tourist who come in waves, particularly when the ferry arrives from Kiel, Germany every morning! I took these during a lull in the afternoon.
Skibladnir was ready ahead of schedule. How did I manage that? So opening day was opening day in name only, but I’m still thrilled, not by the panicked excitement of getting an exhibition ready in time, but by being able to show my work with the extant Viking ships.
I’m preparing talks for museum staff (the Viking Ship Museum is part of the Museum of Cultural History, which is in turn part of the University of Oslo) and Oslo tour guides, tomorrow February 3 and, Friday the 10th, both at 2 p.m., and it has given me a chance to collect my thoughts during this whirlwind adventure. I’ll share those with you over the course of the exhibition. In the meantime, here are the pictures I took with Trine’s Nikon digital SLR. What exquisite photos. . .and I thought I was strictly a Canon man. . .

Click on an image, and click again for a larger version of it.

I decided that I needed to take the day off today. . .to sleep in a little. . .to watching skiing on Norwegian TV. . .and then Julie & Julia this evening. Oh, and I took a nap. I deserve some R&R after a week of installation. It has actually been a wonderful, but exhausting experience. In a way, I didn’t have time to get to know Skibladnir in the studio in a way that I would liked to, given time constraints, and the fact that no matter how she was set up in the studio, that configuration could not match the setting in the museum. (Skibladnir needs to be a she, since we still sometimes refer to ships as “she” in English, which I understand is a remnant from the time when English had gendered nouns like other Germanic languages.) I went to the Viking Ship Museum at 8 a.m. on Friday, and took this video just before the museum opened. The position of the video projectors wasn’t finalized at this point, and I spent the rest of the day fiddling with them, but it still gives one a good idea what the sculptural installation looks like, especially in relation to the Viking ships. I’ll take more video soon. The loop of video images projected from one projector (the other has a camera aimed at visitors), is about 24 minutes long. I may do some further editing prior to the official opening of the exhibition on the 1st of February, and at other times after that. I’m not trying to make a “film” with a narrative, but still to convey certain ideas. One of the images that I use, which is in the first shot in the video, is of some recumbent funerary statues from St. Denis in Paris. It’s hard to make out the actual imagery when projected in the sculpture, but my hope is that some vague sense – a feeling – is conveyed. More later. Bedtime!

Well, well, well. It’s ironic that when there is something really exciting to blog about, there is no time to write anything. . .I guess it’s like good ol’ Ben Franklin, who thought he was going to have time to write his autobiography in his dotage (and did write part of it), but basically had a country to found. Glad he did what he did. . .Oh, where was I? Oh, yes. Sculptural installation. Viking Ship Museum. Very exciting. In one way, I can’t get all hot-and-bothered when there is a lot of work to do, so putting-up and seeing my own work in such a fantastic setting, is really beyond me. I got home yesterday, after our first day of set-up, and didn’t really feel a wave of emotion until then. At Christmastime, My parents and I were watching Kenneth Clark’s legendary Civilisation series on the telly , and there was Kenny-Boy at the Viking Ship Museum, actually touching the Oseberg ship (bad Kenny!), but I did have, at that very moment, and incredible sense of the magnitude of being able show show my art along with the ships that are inspiring it and that represent the height of cultural achievement.
Here are some pictures from the first two days of the setup. My heartfelt thanks to Trine Brekke, Ellen Marie Næss, and Ragnar Løchen for their hard work and flexibility.
The first day was the assembly, and raising of the sculpture. On the second day, Let There Be Light! We installed the video projectors. . .

Tomorrow, I’ll adjust everything. . .

This segment is going to be included in my video sequence for projection in my sculptural installation at the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo. When it is projected on the vessel form (which is made of tulle, suspended from a wood framework), the image becomes much more abstract. What remains is a languid fluidity.
I seem to be waxing poetic, but I do like to drive, and I shot this while I was driving. I chose this segment for inclusion because it is visually beautiful, and it represents Iceland as the kind of “promised land” that the Vikings were dreaming of.
So far, the total length of the video (of which this is a part) is around a dozen minutes, but I am inclined to add some “fades-to-black” to allow a kind of visual breathing space, and to let the sculptural form to appear and disappear. Whether the sculpture “appears” when light is project on it, and “disappears” when the projection is off, I don’t know. The exhibition space, in the rotunda of the museum, is naturally (but dimly) lit. . .

I assembled Skibladnir (notice, um, the misspelling in previous posts. . .spell check doesn’t work for Old Norse) in the studio in Romsås to make sure the tulle panels were hanging properly. I think it looks pretty good! I have to alter the length of a few of the panels. I’m not sure where the discrepancy came in because the patterns seemed to be okay, but I guess it’s like trying on something at the store, then getting it home and realizing it doesn’t really fit. . .


The finished version will have video projections on it. I tested the two projectors on the 1/5 scale model that I have, and I think it ought to work full scale. I hope. The devil’s in the details, and pre-planning only goes so far. Art is most moving and meaningful when it has the special something which cannot be defined. But, I believe (along the lines of John Dewey) that it is emotional content, even if it be subtle, that heightens any experience; it is something like intuition, when one feels that something is right, without being able to know why.

Well, this is how Skidbladnir looks, all packed up. The white packages in the suitcase are half of the keel and cross-pieces bundled up, and the large, flat, white thing is all of the tulle that will hang from the cross-pieces. This is the sculpture in the previous posts, broken-down for shipping. The jeans, shoes, and scarf are not part of the art work! Remember, Skidbladnir is the folding ship of the Norse gods, so my Skidbladnir is happy to be home! I had two suitcases, and separated the two ends of the sculpture, each into its own suitcase, so that I’d have a template to work from, in case either were lost. Oh, me of little faith! Iceland Air, SEA, KEF, and OSL didn’t lose or destroy my bags, and even the TSA left me a little love-note in one bag, informing me that the bag had been searched, “to protect you and your fellow passengers.” I wonder if that is a veiled criticism of my art?

Here is good ol’ Skidbladnir, in my Mom’s garage, now with plastic drop-cloths hanging in place (as patterns) where the fabric will be. These photos show half of the vessel-form, since there is no reason to have a pattern for each end of the sculpture since it is symmetrical (plus, I had to borrow plastic from Mom, and I don’t want to get in trouble). I haven’t trimmed the plastic to its final shape, so the the bow (or is it the stern?) still needs quite a bit of trimming. One thing to bear in mind, is that the viewer’s position will be below this vantage point. I guess I ought to lie on the floor to take a look, but it’s cold, and my Inner Princess doesn’t want to. I’ve lit these photos with a fluorescent lamp, not a video projector, but it gives an idea of the shape of the sculpture, and what I hope will be the luminosity of it. The finished version will be more transparent. Hopefully, I can start cutting-out at least a few of the tulle (bridal-veil-fabric) panels to replace the plastic prior to going back to Oslo. But, Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and my parents and I are off to Enumclaw, Washington to see my brother and his family. . .

I’m using my Mother’s garage in Kenmore, Washington, USA (just north of Seattle) to build Skidbladner, which like its namesake in Norse myth, will fold up. Actually in this case, my Skidbladner will disassemble and fit into a suitcase for transport to Norway. None of the pieces of wood are longer than 29″ (74 cm) when disassembled. I still have a lot of work to do, although the finishing touches will be added in Oslo. While I’m here, I hope to cut out the fabric that will hang from each of the zig-zag cross-pieces, and make sure everything hangs properly. . .