Summer moved on
Elin Øyen Vister
Curated by Rina Lindgren
There was a woman once who sent me a pack of butter in the mail from the other side of the earth. When it arrived after two weeks it was rancid. It tasted like blue cheese and I used it for everything possible. On bread slices, in the frying pan, in chocolate balls. It was very good. One should not underestimate the degradation processes.
Art history is full of Vanitas and Memento Mori. It is probably to instill humility in man for life. Or maybe you simply should take the opportunity to have fun as long as you can. Bellman sings Guldguler hy, matt blomstrande små kinder / nedkramat bröst och platta skulderblad. He describes his friend, the dying father Movitz and asks him to hold out to the last. Empty out your bottle, sing and drink, be happy. The Nordic Gods ate from Idun's apples to not age, but what can the rest of us do? We start trying to reinvent youth elixirs that we then sell to each other for good money with long persuasive lectures telling that they actually help. On the other hand, we have learned to like words like compost and recycling. Spoilage is ok as long as we get to decide when and how.
There are so many ways to dissolve and disappear. If you are a stone, it takes a little longer, but sooner or later, even if it takes millions of years, one is only dust that is blown around in the wind and settles as a thin layer of dirt on a newly painted car. If you ever had a consciousness this disappeared on the way a long time ago.
The atoms remain atoms for what to a human seems like an eternity. They only change owners through time. In one moment it is part of a brontosaurus, the next moment it is a part of a blue plastic bag. It's only a number of resolutions and amalgamations that lies between. At least that is the way I think it works. I might be wrong now, but what does that matter in one hundred years?
Maybe you only see the impermanence in what you like, what you do not want to let go of. Everything else should just be thrown away, sometimes long before it has lost its color, flavor and sharpness. Even if we in the arts are talking about rocks, houses or trees we end up at ourselves in the end. This is an eternal topic that we can not avoid.
I guess everything always is about time? Time and Love. Faced with both you stand helpless.
Opening Friday at 19
Open Tuesday - Sunday 12 - 17
The exhibition is supported by the Norwegian Arts Council