Monthly Archives: January 2015

The sound of the scooter is muffled by my helmet.The landscape races by. Traces of blurry green spots wash away my ability to distinguish the people in the fields. I feel a hum in my belly and warm wind is softly caressing my cheeks. It seems like only yesterday that I fell asleep and rolled off the motorbike straight on to the asphalt road. Except from a few bruises I was unharmed. However the shock from awaking in such a disruptive manner, generated a quivering unpleasantness. The deceitful lulling of being in movement.




On a cold and breezy January night, you are out on a walk. Wandering through the narrow Bergen streets, you find yourself in a contemplative mode. Trying to arrange your thoughts, you look back upon the events of the day. The darkness is engulfing and a calmness takes over. Then all of a sudden you encounter a bright and changing full moon, its hovering at eyes height, and it greets you like a random stranger.

Maybe you stall your steps, carefully observing this phenomena right in front of you. You might be struck by a sheer but minutiae magic.

Or you might not even notice it, so consumed by your own flirtatious reveries. You might just pass it by, like an old man hunched back, drawn by gravity towards his own feet.

The night is still and time passes on. Whatever has been inserted into space, might have affected you, or it might have become a moment’s lost. 

If on a winter’s night, a room is a public video screening program held over seven nights in the heart of winter. The project is a curatorial collaboration with Cristian Stefanescu. It features a series of seven short and silent video works by Icaro Zorbar (CO) , Nora Joung (NO) , Robyn Nesbitt (ZA) , Finn Adrian Jorkjen (NO) , Sif Lina Ankergård (DK) , Kay Arne Kirkebø (NO) , Håkon Holm-Olsen (NO). One artist video per night. While the subjects ranges from natural phenomena to fictionalized objects to performative video, the works share a certain slowness and subtlety that requires a patient contemplative approach.

The works function as luminous backgrounds, with a slow and creeping build-up. They are subtly surreal, which engenders a shift in how one observes the real surrounding and the depicted space of the video. The eeriness and lightness of the video works encourage a folding back upon ourselves, and a folding back upon our own way of ‘looking’, offering conditions for interiorising subjective spaces into a ‘room of one’s own’.

The program has generously been supported by NBK and BEK.