What better than a road trip through Norway with a long-lost buddy, Erling? Answer: a road trip through Norway with a long-lost buddy, Erling who insists we call in at Kistefos at Jevnaker.
Kistefos is the brain child and passion-project of investor and collector Christen Sveaas. It was established in 1996 and occupies the riverside site of his grandfather’s pulp mill that was built in 1889. The mill is now a museum dedicated to the industrial history of the machinery necessary for generating paper-quality pulp. Thanks to Christen Sveaas, there are also stylish galleries that exhibit the best of Norway’s contemporary painters, a cafe and – what joy! – a hidden-in-the-forest, pine-scented sculpture park just full of big beautiful sculpture that makes my heart sing.
First up is Kader Attia’s ‘Whistleblower.’ Compressed cobalt blue bottles are melded together in a series of unexpected cairns. They make for an arresting contrast between the natural and the man made. The title of the work refers to the sound of wind passing over the rim of an open bottle. For me, the intriguing collective evokes at once fascination and discomfort. I consider the practicalities of making each cairn. Was each one heated whole to melt the bottles into each other or was each bottle heated and added one by one? Whichever, they give out an uneasy and other-world feel. As I stand taking in this unusual scene in the forest, I expect ‘Whistleblower’s’ cairns to come to life and move, dalek-like, towards me.
Nairy Baghramian’s ‘Resting Arms’ sits comfortably in its own dell. It emanates permanence and presence. There is an uncanny contrast between the bright white limbs and their brilliant stainless-steel articulations. I run my hand over the pitted surface of the marble. It feels cold, weighty and unforgiving. The whole construction says ‘I am resting and here to stay.’
Down a gravelly path, I find a dazzling arrangement of outsized and abstract cardboard cut-outs. This blog has met Ida Ekblad’s work before. The title of her ‘A Deadly Slumber of All Forces’ implies astrophysics is in play. I would be tempted to rename it as ‘A stage-set for an amateur production of Star Wars meets what is swept up after a child’s birthday party.’ Here is what Ida herself says: ‘Although it could be old mouldy memories or references, I search for a “futurism” of it all: whether clogged up by dystopian Philip K Dick-esque nightmares or very sweet, sad post-rave after-glow introspective moods. I hope, like William Wordsworth, that my future mind “shall be a mansion for all lovely forms.”’ Am I missing something here, Ida? Whatever, I love the whole thing.
One monumental and striking structure at Kistefos is ‘The Twist’ which serves as a bridge over the river and a gallery. Its design has won awards for Danish architectural firm BIG (Bjarke Ingels Group.) By the entrance, there is a strange, leafless tree-like structure. In fact, it comprises two identical trees of different shades but the roots of the lighter tree are uppermost. It is Guiseppe Penone’s ‘Identity.’ How this was made is revealed when I touch the visually convincing bark of the ‘trunk’ of the right-way-up dark tree. It is metal. I knock on it and am rewarded with a satisfying bronzey do-o-o-onnng. Each ‘tree,’ I now understand, comes from the same cast. I mean, really! How do you cast a whole tree in bronze? Bravo, Guiseppe!
The interior of ‘The Twist’ is a stunning exhibition area. It is a place I could sit in for hours. Wisely, Kistefos has not provided comfy chairs. And…
… I find a five-metre-long gorgeous but alarming splash of colour bearing the title ‘Stalk Gills and Caps of Goodbye’ by my new friend, Ida Ekblad. OK, Ida. You win. I am definitely missing something. Fab painting though!
We wander through a woody wonderland with works by Tony Cragg, Fernando Botero, Dana Schutz and many others. Down by the river, smart phones are drawn and hard at work. Then I see what the fuss is about. I am looking at the powerful site-specific work by Marc Quinn, ‘All of Nature Flows Through Us.’ Encountering it here is, quite simply, exhilarating.
Marc Quinn used Christen Sveass’s iris as a model for this ten-metre-wide bronze disc that sits in the Kistefos waterfall’s outlet. It could be considered as a novel form of portraiture referring to the ever-scannable iris as a definitive identifier. Kistefos says that Quinn is ‘interested in the sense of sight’s centrality in an increasingly digitalized and visual world and in the actual eye as a potent symbolic bearer and metaphor.’
Erling and I stop and gape at Quinn’s work. I explain my three demands of big public sculpture before I write about it: imagination, execution and impact. ‘All of Nature Flows Through Us’ scores full marks on all counts. My barely contained excitement must be visible. ‘Wow!’ says Erling. ‘This calls for a beer.’
