«I love working with clichés»
Interview with Ragnar Kjartansson
Repetitions are boring? On the contrary, they are a way to escape art’s claim to eternity. Ragnar Kjartansson presents «Schmerz» at the Zürcher Theater Spektakel, a durational performance on the Saffainsel on four consecutive days for three hours daily. The artist, born in 1976, has long been exploring themes such as theatricality and repetition. He has presented his works in solo exhibitions, such as at Palais de Tokyo in Paris, Guggenheim Bilbao or Migros Museum für Gegenwartskunst. On a summer afternoon, Kjartansson talks to author Philipp Hindahl about repetition and death and explains how the specifics of the Icelandic art scene shape his work, which moves between theatre, art and music.
Philipp Hindahl: Your project «Schmerz», which premiers at the Theater Spektakel, includes many known elements of your work – music, collaboration with friends, working with loops. What is different in your new piece?
Ragnar Kjartansson: Haha… hard to say what’s different. I tend to repeat stuff and myself. What excites me is to create situational tableaus; for example on a summer day at Lake Zurich, we create a desperate theatre situation on stage, with constant drama, and people just walk past. People may be eating ice cream in the sun and strolling by or we are just alone there on the island in the rain. I’ve done work with such tableaus in classic theatre, but the problem with theatre is that the audience sits down and watches. I like the idea that you can just walk past my work.
You come from a theatre family yourself, and now you make art which you can’t easily walk past.
I really see it as something resembling a freak show at a county fair. It is just a small scene, but I like working with clichés, and in this case they are operatic clichés. We see a peasant couple, the man says: «Was habe ich gemacht?» and the woman replies «Nein!». Then dramatic music, and it repeats all over again.
Do you feel repetition undermines tragedy turning it into a comedy?
It is undermined and transformed into pain! Repetition is comical as well as tragic. It is a theatrical cliché, but also a very human experience.
You can’t really answer the question «What have I done?» with «No».
Yes, it does not really make sense. This is really a piece for the German language. The dramatic sound of it. There is something about using German – German culture tapped into opera history, and I like to play with that.
The Saffainsel was created artificially by women in 1958 for the exhibition of women’s work. How does your piece relate to the site?
I have thought a lot about this island. The piece is like a sculpture. On the island, there is a little stage with a little house full of pain. The set is typically European, it could be from a «William Tell» opera performance. A cliché!
Quite romantic.
A romantic cliché. There is something perverse about these deeply European romantic clichés. They are beautiful, oppressive and strange.
You weave all this together with music, theatre and also refer to literature – for instance to Halldór Laxness, the Icelandic author who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1955. How does all this connect?
When it comes to literature and the idea of poetry, it all sinks in. Also music and painting. Just this morning, I made a drawing of empty buckets while listening to the country singer Tom T. Hall, who wrote simple songs tapping into the double standards of American society.
Have you always painted?
Originally, I studied painting, then chased the cool kids into conceptual art class and ended up creating performances. That all came very natural to me, because I was raised with theatre and I also played in a band. Around the year 2000, feminist art and performance were the most interesting things that existed. They were so full of life and urgency. And that’s where I wanted to be.
Your work is again similar to theatre – very collaborative.
Yes, but maybe more with a band approach. I get my friends to work with me hoping something will come out of it. A theatre company has to produce a piece for people who are sitting still for hours. For «Schmerz», I work with the musician Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir, whom I have been collaborating with for at least ten years, and with Saga Garðarsdóttir, a comedian and actress. I look forward to explore this strange world with them.
Does this creative bond also have to do with the artistic scene in Iceland?
It facilitates collaboration. Reykjavik is very small and everybody is an amateur here – which is a blessing and a curse.
There is something beautiful about that enthusiasm.
A good friend of mine is a concert pianist, but he takes breaks to curate music festivals in Iceland, which are totally awesome. I think everybody has this enthusiasm when they are young, but luckily, in Iceland, it sticks longer with people.
You probably get asked a lot about repetition in interviews.
As you would say in German: selber schuld. I am working with it, so I have to talk about it in a repetitive way.
What is the desired effect of it – just comedy and tragedy?
It is also the idea of a ritual. I learned that when I was an altar boy in the Catholic Church. They have repeated the same gestures for centuries.
Psychoanalysts would say that the obsessive performance of rituals is a way to ward off death. You had a recent exhibition in Toronto, titled «Death is Elsewhere». Is there a connection between death and ritual in your work?
There is an acceptance of death. When you do repetitive things, it is almost like you are pretending to be a painting or a sculpture. When I was a child, my favourite game was to play a dead king. I would lie on the floor with a broom and a towel and imagine a funeral procession. I think my performances go into that mindset – to do something very simple and repeat it. It creates a mystical space.
Like a meditation?
Yes, it is related to that. It is interesting how spirituality is also about repetition. Repeat it, and it becomes holy. I love that idea of performance art and spirituality, like the idea that Fluxus pieces do not rely on the eternity of art. They are related to folk art where the idea of the artist’s archive and the museum is far far away. One of my ancestors, Skáld Rósa, has an insanely cool artistic legacy. She roamed the countryside, went from farm to farm as a midwife. And she would recite to some people a short love poem that now everyone in Iceland knows it. You just learn it through the wind. That is the coolest artistic legacy I can think of. There is no picture of her, no statue, no sign of her, except this love poem that is so powerful.
Do you personally need rituals in your work and in your life?
There is the recurring ritual of doing the dishes. We just do it to keep the kitchen clean but it is a ritual that links me to sanity.
But this is still considered gendered work. Before going to art school, you attended a school for domestic science. Why?
I was fascinated by the mystery of that school. It was a time portal to a pre 68 generation world. I did it out of curiosity and to learn and appreciate what my foremothers did, and it became practically and philosophically important.
An article from 2016 said that your career was just beginning. An interesting statement, because at that point you had already produced a considerable oeuvre. Where are you now?
I think it's a good attitude to always see yourself in the early stages of your creative work. But since I started with art, I have always felt that next year I should get a proper job.
What is your plan B?
With my credentials, I could work as a primary school art teacher. I like the idea very much.
Would you explain conceptual art to school children?
No, as I love clichés, I’d love to be a cliché art teacher.
«Schmerz» by Ragnar Kjartansson will premiere at the Züricher Theater Spektakel on 20 August 2022. Further information