Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Fokus Bank marathon in Oslo sees great celebrity turn out

The Fokus Bank Oslo Marathon took place over the weekend with thousands of people participating in the event including a number of Norwegian celebrities running for various charities. The Oslo Marathon, held on the last weekend in September annually, is Norway's largest street marathon and this year's successful event was bigger than ever.

A number of celebrities ran for various charities that the Fokus Bank event supports including Johann Olav Koss's Right to Play and Active Against Cancer. Among celebrities running were Norwegian singer, Tone Damli Aaberge and Norwegian Model, Aylar Dianati Lie, who both accompanied and ran with

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Happy Up Here

 They had me at "Alluu!".  With a burst of freshness not seen since the early days of spearmint gum, the five Greenlanders that comprise Nanook, hopped, skipped and jumped their way into local hearts at a packed auditorium in Reykjavik's Nordic House last Tuesday.

Fronted by brothers Fredrik and Christian Elsne on guitars and vocals, the band, based in Nuuk, are currently touring Scandinavia with their debut album "Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit" (Our Sun is Shining on You). On this debut visit to Iceland, Nanook's mix of old school rock-ability, heart warming lyrics, and genuine old fashioned charm, had the audience under

Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Enjoying Emptiness

Artist Sigurður Guðmundsson has been unusually prominent in the Icelandic art scene this year, publishing a new novel, exhibiting his early photographic work in Reykjavík and inaugurating a major work of public art in Djúpivogur. Sigurður maintains a busy schedule, dividing his time between Reykjavík, Amsterdam and Xiamen, China. When the Grapevine tried to catch up with him following the opening of his exhibition in Reykjavík this summer, he was already halfway around the world.

I just came home from an intense week in Shanghai, exhibiting, performing and partying. My wife Ineke and I were celebrating the anniversary of the Chinese European Art Centre, a ten-year exchange between Chinese and Dutch artists. Holland has always treated me as a Dutch artist and included me in their international activities. This was a big exhibition connected to the Expo world fair, entitled Dialogue 2010. Now I am back here in Xiamen, relaxing on my balcony overlooking a beautiful sunset over the South China Ocean.

How is the relationship between you as an Icelander and the Dutch in light of the conflict between the two nations in the aftermath of the crash?

Holland has always been very kind to me, even after Icesave. However, the image that the Dutch have of Icelanders has been impaired, and maybe rightly so. There are many people still suffering because of this mess caused by an Icelandic bank, even though it may be exaggerated in the Dutch and British media to cover up the fact that they also made big mistakes in this affair. But I have very limited knowledge of these matters. In general, regarding your question, I have little belief in the notion of nationality and I feel that we need to start thinking of something else. The need for some kind of roots or a mutual background with other people is the same as always, but today it might be more relevant in another context than nationality. But, the feeling of being a foreigner is important to me and has been for a long time. I like being a foreigner, that hasn't changed.

Is being a foreigner or an outsider an important thread in your work as an artist?

It is hard for me to talk about a thread in my work because I have always gone from one different thing to the other. I have great respect for artists who work their way up to a certain plane or level and in their work they continually confirm this level and deepen it. Some of my favourite artists are like that and I really feed on their art. But cats do not eat cats; they eat mice. So I am not worried about liking art by people who work differently than I do. My method is different, I always jump off the deep end, creating a new kind of work, letting it go and then moving on to the next one. Like a writer, perhaps, who writes one novel and then the next one, some may be good and others bad. That is why I cannot talk about my photographic work as a series, even though I made it in two different time periods and give each work group a title when they are exhibited separately. I made Situations in the seventies and exhibited the more recent Mutes just a few years ago and it turned out to be somewhat unpopular. Both include individual works that may be connected but I do not regard them as a series.

This spring you displayed Situations in the i8 gallery here in Reykjavík. You created it in the seventies and then you did not do photographs again until the Mutes exhibition two years ago at the Reykjavík Art Museum. How do you see the Situations today in relation to having taken up photography again?

Those works were very much created out of the notion of the private, going deep into what you feel. Not gathering information laterally, but entering a single feeling and working with it in depth and coming up with something that you would otherwise never really think of. In general terms, humanity and society have used art as a mode of expression where one and the same manifestation may contain a complete paradox. You can express "day/night" or "yes/no" and "this way/the other" with complete assurance in the same work. I do not use logic to reach my goal, even though many artists that I like use logic to enter a certain paradigm. For example, my brother Kristján. He works through all the logical steps and comes out on the other side with something great. There are many ways available and I cannot

Blastbeats Be Gone

Momentum want to welcome you to the genre of progressive doom. Never
heard of the genre? Neither had I before their bass player Hörður
sprang it on me. I find myself sitting down with Momentum's bassist
Hörður and guitarist Erling to talk about the progression of their
music. Both of them look like they arrived to the interview on
horseback straight from Tolkien's Middle Earth.

After years in the extreme metal/ blackened death trade, how did you arrive at the decidedly more doomish style you now peddle?

It wasn´t really such a switch in styles as you might think if you just
compare records, but more of a gradual progression through many never
recorded songs performed only live and then dropped.

Why and when did you change the name from the more black metal moniker Afsprengi Satans (e. The Spawn of Satan")?

The original name was meant for drummer Kristjáns black metal solo
project, but carried unwanted

Blastbeats Be Gone

Momentum want to welcome you to the genre of progressive doom. Never
heard of the genre? Neither had I before their bass player Hörður
sprang it on me. I find myself sitting down with Momentum's bassist
Hörður and guitarist Erling to talk about the progression of their
music. Both of them look like they arrived to the interview on
horseback straight from Tolkien's Middle Earth.

After years in the extreme metal/ blackened death trade, how did you arrive at the decidedly more doomish style you now peddle?

It wasn´t really such a switch in styles as you might think if you just
compare records, but more of a gradual progression through many never
recorded songs performed only live and then dropped.

Why and when did you change the name from the more black metal moniker Afsprengi Satans (e. The Spawn of Satan")?

The original name was meant for drummer Kristjáns black metal solo
project, but carried unwanted

Blastbeats Be Gone

Momentum want to welcome you to the genre of progressive doom. Never
heard of the genre? Neither had I before their bass player Hörður
sprang it on me. I find myself sitting down with Momentum's bassist
Hörður and guitarist Erling to talk about the progression of their
music. Both of them look like they arrived to the interview on
horseback straight from Tolkien's Middle Earth.

After years in the extreme metal/ blackened death trade, how did you arrive at the decidedly more doomish style you now peddle?

It wasn´t really such a switch in styles as you might think if you just
compare records, but more of a gradual progression through many never
recorded songs performed only live and then dropped.

Why and when did you change the name from the more black metal moniker Afsprengi Satans (e. The Spawn of Satan")?

The original name was meant for drummer Kristjáns black metal solo
project, but carried unwanted

Jonsí is Way Out West

It is closing in on midnight in Slottskogen in Gothenburg and singer M.I.A. is the last act to take the big stage on a Friday night for the Way Out West music festival. Between her head-splitting bass and cocksure delivery, her dancing entourage, burka-wearing back-up singers, background videos and laser show, she has worked a sizeable portion of the 25.000 attendees into a lather. "Good Evening Stockholm!" She deadpans. Yup, Gothenburgians, meet M.I.A.

I get a late start on Friday and Wu-Tang Clan is already into their third song when I clear the line for my press pass. This

Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Enjoying Emptiness

Artist Sigurður Guðmundsson has been unusually prominent in the Icelandic art scene this year, publishing a new novel, exhibiting his early photographic work in Reykjavík and inaugurating a major work of public art in Djúpivogur. Sigurður maintains a busy schedule, dividing his time between Reykjavík, Amsterdam and Xiamen, China. When the Grapevine tried to catch up with him following the opening of his exhibition in Reykjavík this summer, he was already halfway around the world.

I just came home from an intense week in Shanghai, exhibiting, performing and partying. My wife Ineke and I were celebrating the anniversary of the Chinese European Art Centre, a ten-year exchange between Chinese and Dutch artists. Holland has always treated me as a Dutch artist and included me in their international activities. This was a big exhibition connected to the Expo world fair, entitled Dialogue 2010. Now I am back here in Xiamen, relaxing on my balcony overlooking a beautiful sunset over the South China Ocean.

How is the relationship between you as an Icelander and the Dutch in light of the conflict between the two nations in the aftermath of the crash?

Holland has always been very kind to me, even after Icesave. However, the image that the Dutch have of Icelanders has been impaired, and maybe rightly so. There are many people still suffering because of this mess caused by an Icelandic bank, even though it may be exaggerated in the Dutch and British media to cover up the fact that they also made big mistakes in this affair. But I have very limited knowledge of these matters. In general, regarding your question, I have little belief in the notion of nationality and I feel that we need to start thinking of something else. The need for some kind of roots or a mutual background with other people is the same as always, but today it might be more relevant in another context than nationality. But, the feeling of being a foreigner is important to me and has been for a long time. I like being a foreigner, that hasn't changed.

Is being a foreigner or an outsider an important thread in your work as an artist?

It is hard for me to talk about a thread in my work because I have always gone from one different thing to the other. I have great respect for artists who work their way up to a certain plane or level and in their work they continually confirm this level and deepen it. Some of my favourite artists are like that and I really feed on their art. But cats do not eat cats; they eat mice. So I am not worried about liking art by people who work differently than I do. My method is different, I always jump off the deep end, creating a new kind of work, letting it go and then moving on to the next one. Like a writer, perhaps, who writes one novel and then the next one, some may be good and others bad. That is why I cannot talk about my photographic work as a series, even though I made it in two different time periods and give each work group a title when they are exhibited separately. I made Situations in the seventies and exhibited the more recent Mutes just a few years ago and it turned out to be somewhat unpopular. Both include individual works that may be connected but I do not regard them as a series.

This spring you displayed Situations in the i8 gallery here in Reykjavík. You created it in the seventies and then you did not do photographs again until the Mutes exhibition two years ago at the Reykjavík Art Museum. How do you see the Situations today in relation to having taken up photography again?

Those works were very much created out of the notion of the private, going deep into what you feel. Not gathering information laterally, but entering a single feeling and working with it in depth and coming up with something that you would otherwise never really think of. In general terms, humanity and society have used art as a mode of expression where one and the same manifestation may contain a complete paradox. You can express "day/night" or "yes/no" and "this way/the other" with complete assurance in the same work. I do not use logic to reach my goal, even though many artists that I like use logic to enter a certain paradigm. For example, my brother Kristján. He works through all the logical steps and comes out on the other side with something great. There are many ways available and I cannot

Enjoying Emptiness

Artist Sigurður Guðmundsson has been unusually prominent in the Icelandic art scene this year, publishing a new novel, exhibiting his early photographic work in Reykjavík and inaugurating a major work of public art in Djúpivogur. Sigurður maintains a busy schedule, dividing his time between Reykjavík, Amsterdam and Xiamen, China. When the Grapevine tried to catch up with him following the opening of his exhibition in Reykjavík this summer, he was already halfway around the world.

I just came home from an intense week in Shanghai, exhibiting, performing and partying. My wife Ineke and I were celebrating the anniversary of the Chinese European Art Centre, a ten-year exchange between Chinese and Dutch artists. Holland has always treated me as a Dutch artist and included me in their international activities. This was a big exhibition connected to the Expo world fair, entitled Dialogue 2010. Now I am back here in Xiamen, relaxing on my balcony overlooking a beautiful sunset over the South China Ocean.

How is the relationship between you as an Icelander and the Dutch in light of the conflict between the two nations in the aftermath of the crash?

Holland has always been very kind to me, even after Icesave. However, the image that the Dutch have of Icelanders has been impaired, and maybe rightly so. There are many people still suffering because of this mess caused by an Icelandic bank, even though it may be exaggerated in the Dutch and British media to cover up the fact that they also made big mistakes in this affair. But I have very limited knowledge of these matters. In general, regarding your question, I have little belief in the notion of nationality and I feel that we need to start thinking of something else. The need for some kind of roots or a mutual background with other people is the same as always, but today it might be more relevant in another context than nationality. But, the feeling of being a foreigner is important to me and has been for a long time. I like being a foreigner, that hasn't changed.

Is being a foreigner or an outsider an important thread in your work as an artist?

It is hard for me to talk about a thread in my work because I have always gone from one different thing to the other. I have great respect for artists who work their way up to a certain plane or level and in their work they continually confirm this level and deepen it. Some of my favourite artists are like that and I really feed on their art. But cats do not eat cats; they eat mice. So I am not worried about liking art by people who work differently than I do. My method is different, I always jump off the deep end, creating a new kind of work, letting it go and then moving on to the next one. Like a writer, perhaps, who writes one novel and then the next one, some may be good and others bad. That is why I cannot talk about my photographic work as a series, even though I made it in two different time periods and give each work group a title when they are exhibited separately. I made Situations in the seventies and exhibited the more recent Mutes just a few years ago and it turned out to be somewhat unpopular. Both include individual works that may be connected but I do not regard them as a series.

This spring you displayed Situations in the i8 gallery here in Reykjavík. You created it in the seventies and then you did not do photographs again until the Mutes exhibition two years ago at the Reykjavík Art Museum. How do you see the Situations today in relation to having taken up photography again?

Those works were very much created out of the notion of the private, going deep into what you feel. Not gathering information laterally, but entering a single feeling and working with it in depth and coming up with something that you would otherwise never really think of. In general terms, humanity and society have used art as a mode of expression where one and the same manifestation may contain a complete paradox. You can express "day/night" or "yes/no" and "this way/the other" with complete assurance in the same work. I do not use logic to reach my goal, even though many artists that I like use logic to enter a certain paradigm. For example, my brother Kristján. He works through all the logical steps and comes out on the other side with something great. There are many ways available and I cannot

Jonsí is Way Out West

It is closing in on midnight in Slottskogen in Gothenburg and singer M.I.A. is the last act to take the big stage on a Friday night for the Way Out West music festival. Between her head-splitting bass and cocksure delivery, her dancing entourage, burka-wearing back-up singers, background videos and laser show, she has worked a sizeable portion of the 25.000 attendees into a lather. "Good Evening Stockholm!" She deadpans. Yup, Gothenburgians, meet M.I.A.

I get a late start on Friday and Wu-Tang Clan is already into their third song when I clear the line for my press pass. This

Jonsí is Way Out West

It is closing in on midnight in Slottskogen in Gothenburg and singer M.I.A. is the last act to take the big stage on a Friday night for the Way Out West music festival. Between her head-splitting bass and cocksure delivery, her dancing entourage, burka-wearing back-up singers, background videos and laser show, she has worked a sizeable portion of the 25.000 attendees into a lather. "Good Evening Stockholm!" She deadpans. Yup, Gothenburgians, meet M.I.A.

I get a late start on Friday and Wu-Tang Clan is already into their third song when I clear the line for my press pass. This

Beyond the Boom-and-Bust

Finding the silver lining around the  collapse of Iceland's economy can  seem like a daunting task. However, some are taking the time to explore  the alternatives and finding that a little good can come of this, particularly in the areas of agriculture, energy and conservation. These  positive after-effects are being explored by a pair of Brits in the new  documentary 'Future Of Hope'. After  educating themselves extensively  on Iceland's situation and future options, director Henry Bateman and  producer Heather Millard picked  up and relocated to Iceland, determined  to make their optimistic film a reality. The Grapevine spoke to Heather about the movie and what  hope the future holds.  

How did the project come about?

Henry and I were reading articles in the  UK about the crash in Iceland. In January  2009 we came across the first article that was positive, saying that Icelanders always bounce back. They have a harsh climate to live in, they've had it harder in the past, with various corruptions and plagues and they will bounce back again. We thought there was something in that, so we came out to Iceland for five days in March 2009 on a research trip. We brought the best camera available  to us with the hopes that we would  find a story and that what we filmed we  would be able to use in the film. We met lots and lots of people, from ex-bankers to everyday people trying to survive. We came back to England and we cut a short trailer. We talked about coming out to Iceland for a week every month throughout the summer, from April onwards, and we thought that wouldn't do it justice.  Both of us had read articles and seen documentaries about Iceland and they focused on a very stereotypical view, such as fishing, believing in elves and the Viking aspect. We wanted to give a much fairer representation of Iceland  and make a film that Icelanders could be proud of. So we spent the next few  months preparing and calling in people in Iceland, researching. We bought a  van in the UK and we hired a full HD kit. Then we took the ferry to France, drove  to Denmark, took the ferry to the Faroe Islands before

Little wriggle room for Iceland

Iceland is among the developed countries with the least room for manoeuvre to deal with unexpected shocks to state finances, according to a new study released by the IMF.

The report deals with the debt situations of developed countries and how much capacity they have to take on more debt if needed.

Four countries are considered to be in particular potential difficulty: Greece, Italy, Portugal and Japan.

Of the approximately 20 countries mentioned in the IMF report, the authors say these four countries have the least scope to take on more public debt if unforseen economic problems hit.

The next

Welcome To Gimli

Welcome to Gimli, where the Icelandic flag is as proudly raised at sunrise on the lawns of modest family homes as it is tattooed on the limbs of young men; where fishermen flex their muscles hoisting hearty whitefish from the expansive lake; and where groups of elderly congregate at Amma's Café to converse in Icelandic and indulge in kleinur and pönnukökur alongside their hot coffee. Such is life in the Rural Municiplality of Gimli, in Manitoba, Canada.

In the midst of some particularly harsh economic conditions and a nasty eruption from Mount Askja in the 1870's roughly a quarter of Iceland's population – which then totaled a modest 72,000 people – emigrated from their motherland in the North Atlantic to seek greener pastures abroad. After a group of roughly 300 Icelanders, who had set their collective sights on Canada, grew fed up with a couple years of unfavourable weather and housing conditions in northern Ontario their plight caught the eye

Eight Weeks Until Airwaves!

Summer is over and school is back in session, which means the party is basically over. Well, not really, it's just on a much needed hiatus before the biggest, wildest, messiest and most drunken five-day party of the year: the infamous Iceland Airwaves festival. It's essentially the craziest weekend in Reykjavík you could imagine to the power of ten, five nights in a row. No sleep. The real fun of course is the music and this year's line-up, booked under the new festival management of Grímur Atlason and the Iceland Music Export team, is already looking stellar. Robyn, The Antlers,

Eight Weeks Until Airwaves!

Summer is over and school is back in session, which means the party is basically over. Well, not really, it's just on a much needed hiatus before the biggest, wildest, messiest and most drunken five-day party of the year: the infamous Iceland Airwaves festival. It's essentially the craziest weekend in Reykjavík you could imagine to the power of ten, five nights in a row. No sleep. The real fun of course is the music and this year's line-up, booked under the new festival management of Grímur Atlason and the Iceland Music Export team, is already looking stellar. Robyn, The Antlers,

Eight Weeks Until Airwaves!

Summer is over and school is back in session, which means the party is basically over. Well, not really, it's just on a much needed hiatus before the biggest, wildest, messiest and most drunken five-day party of the year: the infamous Iceland Airwaves festival. It's essentially the craziest weekend in Reykjavík you could imagine to the power of ten, five nights in a row. No sleep. The real fun of course is the music and this year's line-up, booked under the new festival management of Grímur Atlason and the Iceland Music Export team, is already looking stellar. Robyn, The Antlers,

Artists At Work // The Icelandic Love Corporation

"How life evolves, how human life is created and how children are born. Where we come from, and where we are going. These are all very large questions, but the material that links them all in our current project is nylon. Nylon stockings to be exact."

Over the phone, The Icelandic Love Corporation's Sigrún Hrólfsdóttir explains what the three woman artist collective is currently pondering and investigating. Her words are a good reminder why the performance art collective has maintained a constant and fruitful presence on the Icelandic arts scene ever since forming in 1996, why Grapevine is intensely