Bless bless, Iceland

My last week at NES was quiet and productive, and I've accomplished a lot, maybe more in writing than in the studio this time. The map collages will go on the back burner for a while, as there are too many other unfinished things to work on first. NES was challenging for me—working in a group studio with lots of distractions and generally really funky operations made it hard to stay focused. I think it's a place more suited to artists who want to make local connections and work in the community than it is for those of us who work quietly in the studio. But I've loved my time in Skagastrond, time spent with my fellow artists, and with local people.

I'm back in the steamy Hudson Valley, where it actually gets dark at night and fresh fruit and veggies abound. It was strange getting on the plane in a sweater and scarf and off at JFK into 90 degree heat and humidity. I am sad to leave Iceland, which I have come to love, not knowing if/when I will return, but happy to be home for a couple of weeks. Icelanders say "Bless" or "Bless bless" for good-bye, so Bless Bless, Iceland. I hope to be back one day.

Pyramid house in Skagastrond

Our house with it's tin-foiled bedroom windows

Skagastrond street

Skagastrond harbor on a rare cloudy day

In transit to Reykjavik

Keflavik, an otherwise ugly town near the airport, but a cute harbor

The closest I'm likely to get to Greenland for a while...

Yes, they do all wear Icelandic wool.

Flora and Fauna

Iceland is a place curiously devoid of mammals, having only the rarely-seen arctic fox, the equally elusive mink and a few sea mammals such as whales and seals. According to Wikipedia (that excellent source of accurate info) there are rats, mice and rabbits here, but they sure are not around. Once in a while a polar bear floats in from the Arctic on an ice floe, but they are not native and can’t survive here, so usually have to be shot. It is quite strange to me not to see squirrels, mice, rabbits, or any other small furry things about. Even domesticated pets are not in abundance—I’ve seen some dogs but not a single cat in Skagastrond. Farm animals (sheep, horses, and less commonly pigs and cattle) are for work or for eating (apparently even the horse sometimes), and those that are not useful do not stay around. I suspect that this comes from a history of hard living off the land, where anything that can’t graze to survive can’t afford to be kept. Horses and sheep are often driven up into the mountains to graze for the summer and brought back in a big fall roundup to take shelter for winter.

There also seem to be very few songbirds. There are, however, tons of sea birds here nesting along the coast. Bird identification is not one of my strengths, but I’ve been told there are gulls, ducks, fulmars, terns, oyster-catchers and eiders, among others. The Arctic Tern, known here as Kria, can be ferocious when you get near its nest, shrieking and dive-bombing the unwary walker’s head, leaving him or her bloodied. The gulls are subtler, just swooping silently closer and closer. There are some comical ducks here that have a call like “aaaah-oooh-uh”, that when they get going in a group sounds like a lively discussion or disagreement.

On every walk I seem to discover a few new tiny wildflowers tucked into rocky niches. Only the dandelions and lupines seem to thrive on a larger scale. Though beautiful, lupines are considered a bit of a pest, as they were introduced to control erosion and made themselves rather too much at home.

This guy, an oyster-catcher, I think, did not like me around at all...

This one I know from NY, Thrift

More food adventures in small-town Iceland

I’m so accustomed to large supermarkets in the US that I’ve been known to complain when something I like becomes unavailable or there’s just not anything that appeals to me in the fruits & veg department. In small-town Iceland it’s an entirely different matter. The grocery store in Skagastrond is about a twentieth of the size of the smaller store in my home town, and shopping there is a serious challenge. There are some things you wouldn’t expect, like some health food items, balsamic vinegar and Dijon mustard, though perhaps they are there to sell to the NES artists. There are usually 4 kinds of canned soups (all cream-based), modest amounts of packaged dry and frozen foods, and lots of candy and snacks. There’s no fresh fish or meat, just vacuum packed, as the local fisherman are prohibited from selling directly to the local people (everything goes to the big fish company). Dairy products and eggs are wonderful, but the fresh fruit and veggies are meager and often sit there rotting for a week. Yesterday I went and came home with a single small zucchini. Today I lucked out and there were 2 small heads of broccoli and a single bag of spinach that looked fresh. So I’ve been eating the same things over and over, and making a pot of soup every 3 or 4 days so I’ll have vegetables whenever they look decent.

A few days ago, Steinndor, one of the local founders of NES, made a dinner for us of traditional Icelandic foods. Top billing went to the wonderful lamb soup, and he got some of us to try his blood pudding, a sausage made from lamb’s blood that tasted a bit like meatloaf. One of our fellow residents is a chef from Australia, and he’s been learning as much as he can about traditional foods and foraging for local ingredients, so he made a fish soup and cod roe fritters with sorrel sauce. I’ve not seen gardens around, but Steinndor assured me that people are growing lots of vegetables in spite of the short growing season. I asked him about genetically modified foods and he said they were prohibited here, and in the Euro zone any GM foods must be clearly marked as such.

Today Olafur, another resident, came by the studio with hakarl, something I’ve been curious about but dreading as well. It’s made from Greenland shark, which has no kidneys and is permeated with urea as a result. It’s poisonous in its fresh form, so they stack big pieces of it in a large plastic box (they used to bury it in the ground) under some weight for several months, and the ureic acid and fat drain out, causing a chemical fermentation of the meat. Then they hang it up to dry for a couple of months outside. So you’re just dying to eat it now, right? Well, a couple of brave artists tried it (not me) and said it was rubbery and tasted strangely like fish and smelly cheese together. Yum! The smell lingered in the studio all day, and they say the taste stays with you for days… Chef Anthony Bourdain has called it “the single worst, most disgusting and terrible tasting thing” he has ever eaten!

Some things you can kind of figure out...

Raisins from "Kaliforniu"

The ever-elusive decaf coffee

Some things are a bit too familiar

Strange but wonderful—rice cakes dipped in dark chocolate!

Steinndor tells us about blood sausage—the artists look worried, don't they?

Traditional lamb soup

The dreaded hakarl...

The US ambassador visits!

Today was Open House, scheduled early because the American Ambassador to Iceland, Luis Arreaga, was visiting Skagastrond. He and his wife stopped in to visit and talk with the artists along with a few local residents. Look for us on his blog...

getting the studio ready

A beautiful day

conversation with a local sculptor

Ambassador Arreaga discusses work with an artist

photo opp!

Use/Re-use

So I've been thinking about Skagastrond and the economy of isolated communities, a strong part of Iceland's history. As it's an island nation far from everything else, Icelanders are used to being resourceful and they are attentive to staying connected. There's wifi almost everywhere, even in remote places where you would think it was impossible, and it's a very tech-savvy country. At the same time, almost everything here comes from somewhere else, often at great expense.

There are very few trees, but it was not always that way. Early settlers cut the trees for fuel and building materials, and overgrazing by sheep took care of returning seedlings. The landscape is so bare that it is hard to imagine the forests that were once here. I learned in my visit to the Skogar Folk Museum that villagers developed their own "mark", kind of like a brand, to mark driftwood so they could come back to claim it later, as it was a particularly precious resource. There were some houses built entirely of driftwood, but very few remain. The materials of choice now seem to be corrugated metal and stucco, often painted in vivid colors.

In Skagastrond as in other towns, I have begun to notice an economy of repair and re-use in evidence. If a door is damaged, in the US we would probably go off to Home Depot and buy a new one, most likely taking the old one to a landfill. Here they patch it instead, so preservation of resources takes precedence sometimes over the public face of things. Over time some buildings develop a patchwork quality that can be quite beautiful in color and texture, a kind of wabi-sabi of re-use. Our throw-away, everything-new, give-me-hundreds-of-choices culture could learn a lot from this.

When one of the artists wanted to do some oil painting, he needed a space where the smell would not bother the other artists. He worked with some folks from the town and in a few days a little old house appeared behind the studio! It is now his painting house...

spare parts

The painting house...

An artist re-using found materials

Potluck, Icelandic style

Last night we had a potluck dinner in the studio, with local NES supporters, the mayor, and all the artists. Lots of great food and good conversation...

My favorite Icelandic foods so far:
• smoked lamb and pepper cream-cheese on crackers
• lobster soup (their lobsters are quite small, more like large crayfish)
• skyr (like a thick yogurt, purportedly low-fat but very rich)
• traditional lamb soup (lamb, cabbage and carrots in broth served with lots of bread)

I confess to eating lamb on my south coast trip while adorable little lambs were cavorting outside in the field... So far I have avoided hakarl, traditional fermented shark that is supposed to taste and smell foul and stay with you for a week or more. No thanks. I have dried dried fish—as expected, it was dry and tough and fishy. Not bad, but not something I would seek out again.

Studio days at NES

Some things I have learned this year about studio work:

1. What to pack... I've got the basics down pat for studio and cool-climate clothing. Take it out, wear it, use it, wash it, put it back in. I am very tired of my same 6 shirts...

2. How to settle in fast! Give me a spot and a couple of work tables and I'm there making it my own in a hurry.

3. I need to have my hands on tactile things. Collage was the first medium that I totally loved as a young artist, and it has been terrific to come back to it. Can't work without the computer, but balance is good (and my body appreciates me not staring at a screen all day). I am working on some rough sketches from cut-up maps here, not sure if they will become something more finished when I get home or not.

4. Finding a working rhythm wherever I am. I've always found mornings to be my most productive time and they are also the quietest in the studio here. So I am up and in the studio, retreating to the quieter house to write in the afternoons.

5. Studios need windows! I know, artists like lots of wall space, but really! This studio sits right on the water and I have to go outside to see it... and this is not the first place I've worked that's nearly windowless. At least let me see a patch of sky!

My studio space, day 1

Day 10

map collage sketches

Out and about in Skagastrond

We finally had what I think of as a prototypical north Iceland day, light glimmering through clouds and mild temps, so I've been out and about on my usual long walks.

big sky

fish-drying racks

nesting bird