“Jag har spytt tusen år av ord” at Belenius Gallery in Stockholm, up and running until December 22nd
The materials in Linnéa Sjöberg’s works meld, fuse together, and layer the past into a non-linear narrative where yesterday is as present as today and where time utterly collapses.
“To see is to enter a universe of beings which display themselves, and they would not do this if they could not be hidden behind each other or behind me…Thus every object is the mirror of all others.” (Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, 1945)
The ongoing series Inälvornas Dans (The Inward Dance) consists of objects firmly swathed in, and covered by, soaked parchment i.e. membranes scraped during the manufacture of leather. There’s a certain brutality to the drawn-out process – they are left to dry either hanging or lying, pierced and sealed with metal rods, hung with chains, collars and hooks. The interiors are made up of discarded clothing, debris and twigs, erasing the boundary between intimate souvenirs and waste. Many of the works allude to a human presence – exposed, mummified pieces – saturated in the same crude, dark humour as Michaela Eischwald’s resin-filled rubber gloves or Alina Szapocznikow’s head ashtrays. Each individual work forms an ambiguous memento mori, a reminder of the transience – or the triviality – of life.
Earlier in the year Sjöberg came across the VHS archive of the German public service television channel Deutsche Welle. If her previous weaves have intensively unravelled the memory of the individual – an upbringing in Strömsund, the performance work Business Woman – then Tysk Våg (German Wave) is perhaps more concerned with collective memory. What did the world look like before we could follow a live broadcast, before we could say exactly where we were on September 11? What we see on TV etches itself into our memory, our shared view of reality formed and refined by the information sent out. In the process of weaving these stored memories are literally entwined to the point of complete erasure – no image or sound remains. The room is instead filled with long swathes of weaved magnetic tape and pieces of fur, a monument to the obsolete in an accelerated stage of synthetic fossilisation.
There’s something to Linnéa Sjöberg’s method that has me invariably returning to Joseph Beuys’s work Homogeneous Infiltration for Grand Piano. By covering a grand piano in a thick layer of felt Beuys emphasised the pitfalls of collective silence (in allusion to the thalidomide scandal of the 1960’s). Bound into an all-encompassing whole, the instrument’s parts are subsequently gagged. In an analogous gesture, if not one more personal than critical, Sjöberg wraps fragments of a collective history, compressing them into impenetrable objects. Just like the grand piano the contents are hidden and, sure enough, completely disabled.
The past is brutally wiped out, immortalised by its transformation, no possibility of nostalgic reclamation remains. If those objects that surround us are an extension of our own bodies then what Sjöberg engages in are mental acts of mutilation.
Redaktörerna Daniel Söderberg och Ragnar Persson har i denna bok samlat tankar och intryck om döden. Tjugofem konstnärer, fotografer, författare, journalister och poeter visar sin syn på döden. Resultatet är en blandning av konst och journalistik.
Medverkande: Mamma Andersson, Mattias Alkberg, Jenny Damberg, Viktor Rosdahl, Tommy Sveningson, Stefan Fält, Roger Andersson, Linnea Sjöberg, Pär Thörn, Danilo Stankovic, Oskar Nilsson, Sara-Vide Ericson, Isabella Ståhl, Per Englund, Gunnar Lundkvist, Lars Berge, Jessika Gedin, Elin Unnes, Jockum Nordström, Ika Johannesson, Lina Scheynius, Klara Kristalova, Kristian Bengtsson, Joakim Pirinen och Malin Gabriella Nordin.
KONSTHALL RUBEN ÖSTLUND PRESENTERAR:
TECKNING UNDER LUPP / DRAWING UNDER THE MICROSCOPE
Fri Oct 20 2017 at 05:00 pm
Konsthall, Årsta Skolgränd 16a, Stockholm
Peder Andersson, Alexandra Karpilovski, Björn Kjelltoft, Kalle Mattsson, Leo Park, Olga Prader, Max Ronnersjö, Sany och Linnéa Sjöberg
“Calligrapher Lin told me that the drawing of a sign consists of a movement and a counter movement with the brush, a yin and a yang. The sign itself has no exklusive semiotic meaning, but is inseperable from the combined motion of the arm and the hand, the brush, the ink and how it meets the surface. It does not point to anything that is not kept within its own form, which is always here and now. How it was made and continously becomes, while being seen by you.
I asked Lin:
–What happens if there is a mistake, a stain of ink, a blot that was not intended, is it then also a part of the meaning?
Lin looked at me with lots of patience:
–Then show me that mistake. Show me meaning..
The interpreter declared to have fallen in love with me and threatened to K*ll me if I ever loved someone else. I tried to suggest that love was probably something yet to discover. Could I trust the translation to be Lin’s own word, or just what the interpretor wanted me to hear?”
Konsthall Ruben Östlund in Årstaberg invites to an exhibition with nine artist, all of them with their own relation to the drawn medium. Despite that drawing arguably constitutes the core of most artforms, it’s an expression that is often mariginalised in favour of more spectacular disciplines of art.
In the exhibition “Drawing Under the Microscope”, it’s the illusoric modesty of the tiny drawing that is explored and the conditional idea about drawing as a semiotic riddle, whose components can be decoded according to lingustic principles, that is questioned. By putting the microcosmos of drawings under the microscope, we want to reveal the immence power harbored in the line itself. Isn’t drawing rather an instinctive, performative act, than an expression of the artists intellectual intentions, virtousity or free will?
Each artist participates with one or a couple of pieces, serving as a starting point for a rhizomatic chain of new expressions.
Esteban, Lin and Samuel, for Konsthall Ruben Östlund
NSFW welcomes you to ACT III: Making Others Mad, in collaboration with 3:e Våningen and a part of the GIBCA Extended program.
Andreas R Andersson
Making Others Mad
Sep 7- Nov 3
Opening: September 7, 18-21
You are the first to have this love of mine
Making Others Mad
Rip off that straight jacket
Gotta break that line
Four generations of darkness
Oh your heart’s pumping gonna soon explode
Now I have you with me under my power
I don’t yell, I don’t say anything I just leave.
Making war just for fun
Exloring the fire
The ritual has begun
Satan’s work is done
Four generations of darkness
Oh your heart is pumping gonna soon explode
Now I have you with me under my power
<<Chorus to fade>>
AS IF WE NEVER SAID GOODBYE
ALFREDO ACETO / NICOLA MARTINI / LINNÉA SJÖBERG
OPENING: FRIDAY, JULY 14, 6–9 PM
EXHIBITION: JULY 14–AUGUST 25, 2017
Lars Dittrich and André Schlechtriem are pleased to present As If We Never Said Goodbye, a group show including Alfredo Aceto, Nicola Martini, and Linnéa Sjöberg, opening July 14 and running though August 25, 2017. Succeeding the previous group show Monet Is My Church reflecting on the current state of abstraction in contemporary painting, As If We Never Said Goodbye presents positions in contemporary sculpture. The three selected artists, sharing an interest in object translation via simulated industry-influenced processes, hold independent perspectives on object-oriented ontology, from the tangible archeological and geological to the more intimate chronological and psychological. Throughout the artworks presented in As If We Never Said Goodbye, and as the song’s lyric states, there exists a certain “magic in the making” that implies mystery, a ritualistic unknown or sentimental skepticism.
Alfredo Aceto (b. Turin, Italy, 1991 / lives and works in Geneva, Switzerland) presents at the center of the gallery a perpendicularly interlocking office desk, veiled in a black deadener tar and Wyandotte Silver Pheasant feathers, titled Bulo. The varied associations – academic, bureaucratic, banal – are mutated through the object’s now pictorial-sculptural presentation. The relationship between reality and fiction is confused through the slight application of material and back-to-front repositioning of the original form. The functional object is personified and, when considering the past social traditions of tarring and feathering, exists as an object transgressor having suffered an informal public execution. Aceto often creates environments and objects where time, space, memory, and personal attachment are folded into each other. Concepts of chronological manipulation can be seen quite directly as well in his series of clocks, strategically shot, glass intact, with evident bullet holes on the frame.
Nicola Martini (b. Florence, Italy, 1984 / lives and works in Milan, Italy) presents a series of sand sculptures placed like ceremonial remains on the floor and leaning on the low walls of the room. The base material of these objects is composed of thermal sand, normally used in the fabrication of steel and cast iron, a highly industrial process. Every grain is covered with a thermoplastic phenolic resin enhancing its ability to transfer heat. Martini highlights the untitled artworks’ composite identity with fire, by burning with a gas torch the thermal sand piles, forcing the hardening process. The new form is inverted, revealing the internal side of the pile, and stabilized with epoxy resin, exaggerating the artificiality of the material. By changing the definition of the object and rendering it inaccessible, Martini elevates it from the functional, opening it to the conceptual. The series has been produced with support from Nuove//Safond, Italy.
Linnéa Sjöberg (b. Strömsund, Sweden, 1983 / lives and works in Berlin, Germany) presents a number of wall-objects strategically distributed throughout the space. The series, titled “Inälvornas Dans (The Inward Dance)” incorporates dried skin parchment made from cowhide. The material – a waste product in the production of leather – bears reference to industrial process and fabrication, while resembling qualities of the human body, internal and external membranes. Sjöberg embalms objects and material from her everyday life: clothing, tools, fur and wood are wrapped wet in the transparent skin then forced together tightly, re-configuring themselves as necessary, to fit within the bound unit, as it dries. Ranging in scale, assuming almost human proportion, the hybrid structures appear oddly totemic. As with the artist’s weavings and tapestries, the remnants of action and practice over a time are consolidated creating a condensed cosmology of performance.
A full publication in English and German with an essay will be released in conjunction with this exhibition. Please contact Owen Clements, owen(at)dittrich-schlechtriem.com, for information, images and with any further inquiries.
Season of the Double Bind
This exhibition displays a nuanced selection from five Swedish women (Lisa Trogen Devgun, Inez Jönsson, Klara Lidén, Hilde Retzlaff, Linnéa Sjöberg); each artist either supports or rejects the notion that they are products of their environment. Do they manage to escape influence—or lasso it? Trogen Devgun’s work emphasizes risk-taking and the machination of identity incorporating readymade materials; Jönsson persuades one to reconsider perspective and dissect structural components—objects can be reframed in one sweep; Lidén’s imperfect collages highlight the layered nature of social conscience; Retzlaff’s concrete sculptures insist upon lexicons of communication which better suit desires; Sjöberg weaves personas and hybridizes processes until they become fluid and unfettered. In this brutish era—where a call promises no reciprocation of good will—their self-consumed forays are nourishment before another decision must be made.
Seasons wax and wane—as do male/female energies and their less easily categorized offshoots. Current events fill one’s screen size of choice with confusions, cataclysms and stalemates, leaving a grappling populace with bittersweet options which do not necessarily enforce a viable tomorrow. Do we take the proverbial cookie now, or do we wait patiently like pre-schoolers given a lesson in conditioning? More cookies are supposedly available for those who follow rules, for those with manners, for those who abide by social dictations which can, in turn, impede and constrict. It’s hard not to lead you, dear reader, into some dense forest:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Yet: what actually unfolds here is not an existential poem or reductive metaphor where one path proves to be more just or sound than another; rather, I give you reality—where you may find yourself wedged between a ‘rock’ and a ‘hard place,’ where you are damned if you do, damned if you don’t. In this paradox, how does anyone, much less an artist, know whether or not to work with or against a system, and when does one decide to change or destroy it? Catch-22’s flourish in this maze. Those who utter the words “I love you” might be the first to abuse. In this place, where words and actions do not conveniently align, it becomes increasingly difficult to be ‘good’ or ‘right’ or ‘loved’ when one must also fight to be one’s self.
With any maxim or theory, there exists some equally alluring antithesis. Mixed messages ambush the senses, yet most options appear to be less than ideal. We may choose a non-committal middle ground. We procrastinate with consumerism and social media, all that culture offers (feeds?) or seemingly private diversions, or we can go inward towards a more accepting playground. Some might argue that this wavering indecision is jaded or queer, and others might declare that we are merely cowards who don’t know how to move forward. We grow impatient; we hit another dead end. We continue to see: the outcome of choices which don’t add up, indeterminate luck dished out, the greedy advance their position and svelte thieves flock together in twisted harmony. We observe patterns but often do not possess enough power to significantly alter them; this could be the essence of our plight.
If you don’t become the ocean, you’ll be seasick every day. An ambitious woman in the corporate world can be viewed as a threat if she is too successful; she may be considered callous if she cares too much about her career. A woman in the art world is viewed in another context, but to an extent, one sphere (indeed) overlaps the other. Will the women in this exhibition be viewed as threats, and if not, what does that entail? Would you take a woman artist more seriously if she appeared to be dangerous? Would you hide from her—or hide from her work? Curiously enough, when you find yourself at that forked path, she might be your only oracle. In this world, we are not only presented with oversimplified ‘zero-sum’ games—where one person’s gain is someone else’s loss. Instead, even if temporarily, we may become entangled in some ‘no-win’ variant. Contradiction and ambivalence can either resolve or enforce conflict—at any rate, these traits are in bloom.
Group exhibition during Stockholm Art Week (22/3-26/3) at Biologiska museet. Free entrance
Revital Cohen & Tuur Van Balen
I will be part of NKD residency during January – February 2017
Steinsland Berliner Gallery in Stockholm Our Winter Show
Svt, Kobra, 28 november
Måste man vara hel, ren och arbetsför? Författaren Tone Schunnesson, filmregissören Ken Loach och konstnären Linnéa Sjöberg gör på olika sätt motstånd mot trenden som säger att människovärde är synonymt med framgång och arbetsduglighet. Och så träffar vi Carl Cederström, som skrivit boken Wellnessyndromet, och menar att “de lyckade” är de som tär mest på samhället. Programledare: Kristofer Lundström och Lina Thomsgård.
Salong Flyttkartong participate in:
Dysfunctional Comedy, Stenberg Press, eds Lívia Páldi, Olav Westphalen
Open Studio with Simon Mullan, 16th of August at FAHRBEREITSCHAFT
Grade //// Separation at Belenius
Beck & Jung
Johanna Gustafsson Fürst
Juan Pedro Fabra
Systems for transportation make up the backbone of how cities and societies are constructed or imagined.
Belenius Gallery proudly presents the summer group exhibition grade //// separation. Roads, railroads, tunnels and other paths are separated into grades to prevent traffic and to minimize the risk of accidents, but they equally become grids of movement through the traffic that runs on them. It also becomes a symbolic movement for development and interconnectedness.
In grade //// separation we are met by artistic practices that deal with different systems and movements in a broader sense. The artworks in the show create a cohesive grid system even though all of them come from different directions thematically and aesthetically. The entity of the works can be seen as a system (i.e. an exhibition), but it is also a structure of controlled movement within the space. Together they become like a grid where each individual string is part of a whole and the flow is established through their separateness.
Alida Ivanov July, 2016
Group Exhibtion “Industrisemester” curated by Johan Norling, Grängesberg, opening 18th of June
Linnéa Sjöberg – Layers of Shit
Linnéa Sjöberg – Oppositional Cyborg
This sentence precedes a quote that – without this sentence – would have been the first words of the essay you are reading. They would have tinted the text and guided you, dear reader:
There is a hierarchy in the arts: decorative art at the bottom, and the human form at the top. Because we are men.
– Le Corbusier and Amédée Ozenfant, 1918
Not so long ago, this quote by two proto Modernists may have constituted the beginning of a text. Even more than that, it may have been followed by Sigmund Freud’s assertion that the “unique” contribution of women to civilization is weaving, a decorative art per se. In his lecture on “Femininity” from 1933, the late psychoanalyst propagated that in weaving, women imitate how nature conceals their “genital lack” with pubic hair.
This essay is on Linnéa Sjöberg’s latest body of work, in which weaving plays a pivotal role. A year and a half ago, Sjöberg bought a loom and ransacked her parent’s house for old pieces of clothing. She took what she could find as long as it was black, from her favorite disco dress during her teenage years, to an old umbrella, to her grandmother’s last skirt. Back at her loom, Sjöberg wove the materials into a 15metre long quilt with only 30 cm of the fabric visible at a time, due to the way the apparatus is built. The work titled Four Generations of Darkness became an elongated, cadavre exquis a metaphor for separate yet interwoven generations and biographies.
As art historian Lucy Lippard pointed out in 1976 with regard to Eva Hesse’s work, “tying, sewing, knotting, wrapping, binding, knitting,” have long been regarded as “female” activities and hence less valued than other “male” work. Textile art was perhaps most associated with the keepers of the domestic home, a dubious privilege only, if at all, applicable to whitemiddle and upperclass women. However, textiles have since also become a symbol for subverting this notion. In the banners of the Suffragette resistance, the “primitive” and “natural” connotations projected onto textiles by the West were overthrown and artists like Eva Hesse transcended the entrenched amalgam between fabrics and “women’s work” through repetition and ritual.
Working away to the monotonous, woodenclunking sound of the apparatus, weaving is a physically exhausting labour. The compulsive use of the body in everrepeated movements, Lippard goes on, can also “be a guard against vulnerability; a bulletproof vest of closely knit activity [that] can be woven against fate”. Sjöberg does not create comfy softonthe skin garments, but kneads together personal materials loaded with history, some of which border on the abject. Her quilts Layers of Shit, for instance, consist of yellowish rubber stripes cut and torn from an old mattress in the artist’s studio. God knows what happened on the bed before, and where the stains stem from.
Another series of work is made from embossed parchment, cow skins. Sjöberg’s engraved tattoos from her own body onto shinethrough and black leathers. While some of the works are made by the artist herself, others are produced by a company that serves luxury brands like LVMH. Sjöberg conflates high and low in the same way she interweaves art and life. After her allin performances of first being a business woman and then a tattoo artist for several years, she is now a weaver. In weaving, the inside and outside are blurred. As critical studies researcher Sarat Maharaj wrote in 1991, textile art cites “established genres and their edges as it cuts across and beyond them” to throw out of joint “handeddown notions of art practice / genre /gender”.
Sjöberg’s weavings – just like her parchment works – mess up the borders between the inside and outside, high and low, art and life, male and female. Her incisions penetrate the skin and her fierce engravings leave burnt scars on and in the body. Her threads are entangled inseparably in epic tapestries, similar to her total interweaving of art and life. Weaving, as Donna Haraway once put it, is for “oppositional cyborgs”.
– Stefanie Hessler
Radiointervju i programmet Stil i P1
SWEDISH ART: NOW! at Sven-Harrys konstmuseum, 20th of April – 6th of June
Upcoming Solo exhibtion at Belenius/Nordenhake, 28th of April 2016
Contributed in Loyal New Sensations Vol. 2. Release party 27th of November at Loyal Gallery, Kammakargatan 68, Stockholm, 6-9 pm
Presentation av konstnärskap på Konsthögskolan Umeå Universitet
Tid: Kl 10
Galleri Verkligheten visar mellan 23 oktober och 14 november en parutställning med stockholmsbaserade konstnärerna Chris Magnusson och Linnéa Sjöberg. Två stycken högst individuella uttryck med gemensamma anknytningspunkter. Deras riktning mot det instinktiva arbetet och metodiska sätt att konstruera sina praktiker för dem samman.
Magnusson svårplacerade teckningar och humoristiska kopplingar kommer ur ett arbete som ger vika för infallet och håller honom i samma position av utforskare som oss betraktare när vi möter hans bildvärld. Chris Magnusson tycks ofta söka sig bort från det konceptuella arbetet, kanske för att ge mer utrymme åt det som han själv inte kan planera. Exempelvis genom att fokusera på triviala ämnen eller arbetstekniker där han själv blir novis.
Sjöbergs metod mynnar ut i årslånga performativa projekt där livsstil och vardag omformas och kontinuerligt skräddarsys vilket i sin tur resulterar i ett naivistiskt, men samtidigt strikt planerat, arbete. En mindre detalj i en både iscensatt och verklig vardag kan resultera i ett konstnärligt verk. Som i hennes tidigare projekt Salong Flyttkartong där hennes tatueringar utförda under projektets tid (på sig själv och andra) kom att bli stoff för T-shirts, bryggda öl och en bok.
Deras fokus på metod framför koncept gör processen synlig i deras verk och befinner sig på en metadiskussion om konstnärligt arbete. Trots det skapar de något som blir både spontant, levande och fysiskt när de olika metoderna sätts att arbeta.
För deras gemensam utställning på Galleri Verkligheten visar de arbeten från den senaste tiden, arbeten som lutar åt det svarta, i både tematik och färg.
Med vävstolen som ett performativt verktyg återaktivera Sjöberg en dåtid. Insamlat material från hennes barndomshem, gamla kläder och vhs-band som klipps till trasor, nystas till hårda bollar för att sedan vävas ihop till ett stycke. Med en svart betsad vävstol kommer Sjöberg jobba på plats i galleriet under hela utställningsperioden.
Chris Magnusson har till denna utställning fokuserat på figurer som utövar pilates-liknande övningar och abstrakta former hämtade från gymmets maskiner. Magnusson försätter sina figurer i ansträngda poser med svarta medicinbollar under närmast tortyrlika former. Ett svart skämt utan avsändare som mellan raderna ger både en glädjefylld och osäker känsla.
Tack till Lilla Galleriet i Umeå, Karin “Fina” Jönsson på Stockholms Läns Hemslöjdsförening samt Katarina Wretén från 18 vävare.
Contributed in Capricious Issue No. 16—EX, out in September