MikeAdamsArtist.com Blog

Here are some pictures from the opening day of the exhibition on February 1st, 2012. These pictures belie the throngs of tourist who come in waves, particularly when the ferry arrives from Kiel, Germany every morning! I took these during a lull in the afternoon.
Skibladnir was ready ahead of schedule. How did I manage that? So opening day was opening day in name only, but I’m still thrilled, not by the panicked excitement of getting an exhibition ready in time, but by being able to show my work with the extant Viking ships.
I’m preparing talks for museum staff (the Viking Ship Museum is part of the Museum of Cultural History, which is in turn part of the University of Oslo) and Oslo tour guides, tomorrow February 3 and, Friday the 10th, both at 2 p.m., and it has given me a chance to collect my thoughts during this whirlwind adventure. I’ll share those with you over the course of the exhibition. In the meantime, here are the pictures I took with Trine’s Nikon digital SLR. What exquisite photos. . .and I thought I was strictly a Canon man. . .

Click on an image, and click again for a larger version of it.

I decided that I needed to take the day off today. . .to sleep in a little. . .to watching skiing on Norwegian TV. . .and then Julie & Julia this evening. Oh, and I took a nap. I deserve some R&R after a week of installation. It has actually been a wonderful, but exhausting experience. In a way, I didn’t have time to get to know Skibladnir in the studio in a way that I would liked to, given time constraints, and the fact that no matter how she was set up in the studio, that configuration could not match the setting in the museum. (Skibladnir needs to be a she, since we still sometimes refer to ships as “she” in English, which I understand is a remnant from the time when English had gendered nouns like other Germanic languages.) I went to the Viking Ship Museum at 8 a.m. on Friday, and took this video just before the museum opened. The position of the video projectors wasn’t finalized at this point, and I spent the rest of the day fiddling with them, but it still gives one a good idea what the sculptural installation looks like, especially in relation to the Viking ships. I’ll take more video soon. The loop of video images projected from one projector (the other has a camera aimed at visitors), is about 24 minutes long. I may do some further editing prior to the official opening of the exhibition on the 1st of February, and at other times after that. I’m not trying to make a “film” with a narrative, but still to convey certain ideas. One of the images that I use, which is in the first shot in the video, is of some recumbent funerary statues from St. Denis in Paris. It’s hard to make out the actual imagery when projected in the sculpture, but my hope is that some vague sense – a feeling – is conveyed. More later. Bedtime!

Well, well, well. It’s ironic that when there is something really exciting to blog about, there is no time to write anything. . .I guess it’s like good ol’ Ben Franklin, who thought he was going to have time to write his autobiography in his dotage (and did write part of it), but basically had a country to found. Glad he did what he did. . .Oh, where was I? Oh, yes. Sculptural installation. Viking Ship Museum. Very exciting. In one way, I can’t get all hot-and-bothered when there is a lot of work to do, so putting-up and seeing my own work in such a fantastic setting, is really beyond me. I got home yesterday, after our first day of set-up, and didn’t really feel a wave of emotion until then. At Christmastime, My parents and I were watching Kenneth Clark’s legendary Civilisation series on the telly , and there was Kenny-Boy at the Viking Ship Museum, actually touching the Oseberg ship (bad Kenny!), but I did have, at that very moment, and incredible sense of the magnitude of being able show show my art along with the ships that are inspiring it and that represent the height of cultural achievement.
Here are some pictures from the first two days of the setup. My heartfelt thanks to Trine Brekke, Ellen Marie Næss, and Ragnar Løchen for their hard work and flexibility.
The first day was the assembly, and raising of the sculpture. On the second day, Let There Be Light! We installed the video projectors. . .

Tomorrow, I’ll adjust everything. . .

This segment is going to be included in my video sequence for projection in my sculptural installation at the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo. When it is projected on the vessel form (which is made of tulle, suspended from a wood framework), the image becomes much more abstract. What remains is a languid fluidity.
I seem to be waxing poetic, but I do like to drive, and I shot this while I was driving. I chose this segment for inclusion because it is visually beautiful, and it represents Iceland as the kind of “promised land” that the Vikings were dreaming of.
So far, the total length of the video (of which this is a part) is around a dozen minutes, but I am inclined to add some “fades-to-black” to allow a kind of visual breathing space, and to let the sculptural form to appear and disappear. Whether the sculpture “appears” when light is project on it, and “disappears” when the projection is off, I don’t know. The exhibition space, in the rotunda of the museum, is naturally (but dimly) lit. . .

I assembled Skibladnir (notice, um, the misspelling in previous posts. . .spell check doesn’t work for Old Norse) in the studio in Romsås to make sure the tulle panels were hanging properly. I think it looks pretty good! I have to alter the length of a few of the panels. I’m not sure where the discrepancy came in because the patterns seemed to be okay, but I guess it’s like trying on something at the store, then getting it home and realizing it doesn’t really fit. . .


The finished version will have video projections on it. I tested the two projectors on the 1/5 scale model that I have, and I think it ought to work full scale. I hope. The devil’s in the details, and pre-planning only goes so far. Art is most moving and meaningful when it has the special something which cannot be defined. But, I believe (along the lines of John Dewey) that it is emotional content, even if it be subtle, that heightens any experience; it is something like intuition, when one feels that something is right, without being able to know why.

Well, this is how Skidbladnir looks, all packed up. The white packages in the suitcase are half of the keel and cross-pieces bundled up, and the large, flat, white thing is all of the tulle that will hang from the cross-pieces. This is the sculpture in the previous posts, broken-down for shipping. The jeans, shoes, and scarf are not part of the art work! Remember, Skidbladnir is the folding ship of the Norse gods, so my Skidbladnir is happy to be home! I had two suitcases, and separated the two ends of the sculpture, each into its own suitcase, so that I’d have a template to work from, in case either were lost. Oh, me of little faith! Iceland Air, SEA, KEF, and OSL didn’t lose or destroy my bags, and even the TSA left me a little love-note in one bag, informing me that the bag had been searched, “to protect you and your fellow passengers.” I wonder if that is a veiled criticism of my art?

Here is good ol’ Skidbladnir, in my Mom’s garage, now with plastic drop-cloths hanging in place (as patterns) where the fabric will be. These photos show half of the vessel-form, since there is no reason to have a pattern for each end of the sculpture since it is symmetrical (plus, I had to borrow plastic from Mom, and I don’t want to get in trouble). I haven’t trimmed the plastic to its final shape, so the the bow (or is it the stern?) still needs quite a bit of trimming. One thing to bear in mind, is that the viewer’s position will be below this vantage point. I guess I ought to lie on the floor to take a look, but it’s cold, and my Inner Princess doesn’t want to. I’ve lit these photos with a fluorescent lamp, not a video projector, but it gives an idea of the shape of the sculpture, and what I hope will be the luminosity of it. The finished version will be more transparent. Hopefully, I can start cutting-out at least a few of the tulle (bridal-veil-fabric) panels to replace the plastic prior to going back to Oslo. But, Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and my parents and I are off to Enumclaw, Washington to see my brother and his family. . .

I’m using my Mother’s garage in Kenmore, Washington, USA (just north of Seattle) to build Skidbladner, which like its namesake in Norse myth, will fold up. Actually in this case, my Skidbladner will disassemble and fit into a suitcase for transport to Norway. None of the pieces of wood are longer than 29″ (74 cm) when disassembled. I still have a lot of work to do, although the finishing touches will be added in Oslo. While I’m here, I hope to cut out the fabric that will hang from each of the zig-zag cross-pieces, and make sure everything hangs properly. . .

I didn’t realize how much I was massacring the pronunciation of Skidbladnir. I’m surprised I haven’t been run out of Norway. It’s supposed to sound something like: “She-blah-near.” Oh, it’s so hard not to say those Ds! In spite of my despicable mispronunciation, I’m happy to report that my proposal for a sculptural installation at the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo has been approved. (See the previous two posts for pictures of two maquettes or models). These photos are from the meeting I had with Jan Bill, curator of the collection, Ellen Marie Næss, educational lecturer, Guro Hjalstad, conservator, and last but not least, Ragnar Løchen, who usually makes the supports that hold up the ships, but will craft some critical components for the exhibition, and help devise a way to hang Skidbladnir.
This is what I meant by Skidbladnir’s shadow. Here is the Gokstad ship with a paper layout (a shadow, if you will) of Skidbladnir, meant to give an idea of the scale of my sculpture, which will be five meters (16-1/2 feet) long.

Jan (left) and Ragnar are measuring the height to the ceiling, while standing next to the paper “shadow.” The prow of the Oseberg ship is at the extreme left. My sculpture will hang with its bottom edge – the keel – at least three meters above the floor. Glass cabinet behind Jan and Ragnar is about 2.1 meters tall, so that gives one an idea of the height of the sculpture. It will be a sort of ghost-ship-chandelier.

Guro (left), Jan, and Ellen Marie (right) standing by the paper “shadow”. The Oseberg ship’s bow is facing us.

Jan and Ellen Marie taking a stroll, with the Tune ship behind them. Skidbladnir will be in the middle of the museum with the bows of the other ships facing it.

The previous post shows a version of Skidbladnir with panels made of tulle (bridal-veil material). This is the paper version that served as the pattern for cutting-out the tulle. The tulle version has a rim that supports fishing-line from which the fabric is hung. Paper Skid (good title!) uses wooden kebab sticks that have taped, flexible joints. Paper Skid can open and close like an accordion, so hooking it up to some kind of motor, would let it do its thing. I keep imagining a Red Green style project with two garage door openers squeezing and unsqueezing the sculpture like a phantom accordionist.The version that I intend for the Viking Ship Museum would not be kinetic, but would use the same rigid zig-zag supports, and not have a solid gunwhale (the top edge of a boat hull). Thus, it would look, at least in terms of its form, like these photographs.

I should add that you can see larger versions of these images by clicking on them, then clicking again for the largest version.