Artist in Residence Iceland

Visiting Iceland, or, better yet, attending an artist in residence there, is high on the wishlist for many of us. After my visit this Summer to SÍM residency in Reykjavik, which is the largest residency in Iceland and the only one that is based in the capital, I came closer to understanding why. Iceland, as a country, has many things to offer and often feels like an otherworldly experience. The immersive landscapes, unique wildlife and the many cultural riches impress the artists visiting the country. The artists’ residencies facilitate the experience and build bridges between visiting residents, nature and local communities. 

How we gaze

The point of interest for many residents in Iceland is the landscape and mysticism that is omnipresent in Iceland. Hólmar Hólm, who has been running the residency program at Hafnarborg, a museum in Hafnarfjörður, reflects on the experience many residents have when arriving in their town: “In Hafnarfjörður the elves are a big part of our identity. The environment also makes you feel that you are in a unique place. When people arrive here, they have just driven past the lava fields. It is like driving through the fields of the moon.” 

These experiences tend to find their way into the artistic practices of the residents.  Their encounters with the often new materiality or topics are something they sought out before applying or something that feels overwhelming and urgent and flows into their work during their stay. Volcanic sand, mountains, natural hot pools, and stories about the hidden folk and glaciers are repeating thematics of artistic work. Still, also lesser-known phenomena like the tradition of baking bread in the geothermal ground, which was the objective of Bogna Luiza Wisniewska’s solo exhibition Bread Summer or the omnipresent swimming pool culture, which formed the inspiration for Anna Torkkels dance performance friður have formed the inspiration for the artists that are invited to stay and work in one of the artists in residence facilities in Iceland.

This tendency to relate to Iceland’s characteristics is not exclusive to the residents. The highly praised solo exhibition of the Icelandic Jónsi: Flóð, is an extraction of cultural and natural Iceland and is cumulated in the works. Soundscapes, black sand, marks of nature through imprints in material and changing lights are presented here without a trace of romanticism. In this exhibition, the artist goes beyond simply using these elements as inspiration; instead, he analyzes and reflects on them. This approach allows for a portrayal of an essence that would be impossible for a visitor to fully grasp. Elements such as song, road trips, the smell of tar, darkness, faint lights, and likely other details that a visitor might overlook, highlight the sensitivity and complexity that stem from the artist’s personal experiences and closeness to these subjects.

Having experienced both during my stay, it is inevitable to compare the local lens to the outsider one and evaluate how the latter is at risk of appropriation, extractivism and as a discourse, repetition; or, on the contrary, refreshment, new perspectives and cultural exchange. In the words of  Melody Woodnutt in Blooming Corpses: Artist Residencies in Iceland and the Importance of the Periphery: “Artists are peculiar beasts and spirits—they are transient, encircling; soaring between locations as both predatory ravens and the phoenix-imaginative reviving life and beauty.” It is because of this duality that a critical attitude towards the working methods of artists is essential, something that can be guided and facilitated during the selection process and residency period itself.

In the final invitation email at SÍM residency, the residency director Martynas Petreikis urged us to give back what we borrowed from nature or ask blessings from the elves to take what we found. “Take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints” is a general sentiment shared in many touristic areas, but one that is also dominant within the attitude that is asked from residents in Iceland. Hólm adds to his reflection on the relationship between residents and the environment that it also helps him, as someone who has been living in Iceland for his whole life, to become more receptive to abundant natural phenomena: “Volcanoes are erupting all the time. We, who have been living here for a long time or were born here, become numb to all of this. But through the eyes of the visitors I can see these things again with a fresh perspective, they are revived.” 

This effect of rejuvenation that is caused by the mediation of artists in residence is formulated by Woodnutt as follows: “.. a local’s focus becomes redirected towards new values involving natural beauty, creative ideology, or the mythology of their locale resulting in revived cultural perspectives and heightened activity.” It is through this possibility that the outsider, or the resident, holds the possibility to not merely extract but give back in abundance. 

Seasonal changes

The extent of the landscape changes in Iceland also depends on the time of year. The intensity in which the seasons are present here heavily influences the residency experience. Martynas Petreikis: “During these seasons, nature inspires us. In Summer and Spring, residents tend to spend time outdoors, exploring the country and researching topics related to the area during the nearly endless days.”. For the Summer-season applications tend to emphasise the source of material, artists propose to work with organic or plant-based materials. During the winter season, the resident artists  often retreat indoors, leading to increased introversion. The atmosphere shifts, with less sunlight available. Artists become more focused on building stronger connections with one another. This is encouraged by the time they spend together, which becomes more deliberate and meaningful. But some also want to experience the full force of the weather and the nature. The queen here is nature, you live with her and you are dependent on her.” 

How reachable some of the residencies are is also dependent on the queen according to Kamilla Gylfadóttir, head of education and residencies at Skaftfell Art Center, a regional art center in the East of Iceland. She explains how often in winter, the road to the fjord gets cut off. Residents usually take an interland flight to reach the fjord and in Winter, it seems to be a matter of luck whether or not the one road that leads up to the town is open. In addition to this, small towns like Seyðisfjörður deal with force majeure on a regular basis. Avalanches and mudslides are a common phenomenea here, causing multiple evacuations of the town a year. It is the force with which nature is present that urges you to live in cohabitation with it, to become dependent on its rhythm, influencing not only daily life but artistic processes as well.

Artist Eva Spierenburg, who attended Fish Factory residency in the small town of Stöðvarfjörður in May June 2024 reflects on the ways in which the Icelandic nature influenced her practice: “I enjoyed hiking, taking pictures, exploring, drawing outside or in the studio. I recognized how I attuned to the rhythm of nature. Nature had much more impact even than I expected beforehand, I can see that my drawings have really changed.” The solitude that comes with the remoteness of many of Iceland’s residency spaces allow for a distance to the big city, to escape from the hustle and bustle. Spierenburg adds how it changed her view and altered her senses: “My senses are more attuned, they are more open. When there are so few people or sounds around, you will notice different or smaller things.”

Local ties and connections

The artist’s residency programs secure nodes of exchange between international arts, the concepts they propose and the locals. There is not much encounter beyond this due to the geographical location of Iceland and the secludedness of these communities. While within these communities ties are strong and lines are short, there are certain delicacies when it comes to engaging the visiting artists with the locals. Gylfadóttir: “.. you want to introduce the artist, yet you don’t want to exhaust the local community.” She elaborates on this by explaining that Skaftfell’s program is curated in such a way that the input of the artists brings enough variety to the locals through different modes of exchange. She personally invits local groups or individuals who might have an interest in the practice of the artist. And when this succeeds, there is an invaluable exchange. 

Founder of The Freezer, a social hostel and cultural centre, tells Gundega Šķēla in How to Be Heard? The Importance of Artist Residencies in Iceland: “In a community like this, which is quite a bubble, a residency is very important. People living here are really in their comfort zone. So, having artists coming and doing something that’s very foreign to the vast majority of inhabitants that live here is priceless.” Gylfadóttir gives me an example of a former resident to illustrate this. When a queer collective from the US came to the residency some years ago, she invited the queer organization from the high school in the next town to attend one of their workshops. Through this exchange, the local youngsters got into contact with an international queer network and in the practice of the residency. One of the attendees to the workshop told Gylfadóttir that for them, it was the first time ever to be around so many queer people and that they now, for the first time, felt as being part of a community. 

Through meeting residents, the locals engage with a broader variety of people than they could find in their locality. It is especially in these small towns that art can bring explicit value, as formulated by  Melody Woodnutt: “Unlike encounters within urban centres, a more localized regional affect (the affect upon the artist, varying selves, locals, and one’s environment within a regional setting) can harbour significant human and societal value.” IIt is clear that the residencies in Iceland provide significant and immediate benefits to their local communities. Viewing these residencies only within the context of Icelandic culture is a narrow perspective. The challenges they encounter, the exchanges they promote, and the hope for change they embody are important issues that resonate with everyone in the broader Icelandic community.

Value

When speaking about artist in residence in Iceland, the discussion often goes into the topic of value. Residencies in Iceland face ongoing pressure to demonstrate their value to funding agencies. Gundega Šķēla highlights the significant gap between the social, cultural, and economic value that these residencies provide and the inadequate funding they receive.: “Despite their significance and the advantages they bring to their communities, most artist residencies in Iceland struggle to secure funding, both for their day-to-day operations and long-term planning. (…) The continuation of artist residencies and their long-term planning are complicated by [the] reliance on unpredictable funding and the lack of a structural support system from the government.” 

The lack of structural funding not only results in residency fees paid by residents to sustain the residency places but also in the self-organized nature that is characteristic of many of them. For these residency programs, finding sustainable ways of governing their organizations becomes harder and harder. The result is a limited number of funded residency programs, as the necessary funding must come from international sources. This leads to an increased workload, as it is challenging to hire additional staff. Meanwhile, the existing staff dedicates their efforts to maintaining the quality that makes these residencies exceptional and welcoming, all while striving to stay competitive on the international stage.

The resident versus the tourist

A well-loved trivia fact about Iceland is that its inhabitants only count to less than 400K, while they welcome more than 1,7 million visitors yearly. Tourism makes up a large part of the economy and infiltrates both daily life and the environment of Iceland. While residents often prefer to label themselves as something else than tourists, it sparks a fruitful dialogue when comparing residents to tourists. 

The period in which the two operate and engage with the country is an obvious point of differentiation. Petreikis: “International practitioners, especially those that get to experience Iceland for a longer time, open up this time-frame and step into a deeper level of research: they learn about the local cultures, the history, they obtain a deeper understanding of the society, as they have this slower and longer time to reflect. A big part of what the artists bring to Iceland is what you are taking out and carrying with you.” An advertisement component integrated within the residency practices ensures an alternative type of promotion to reach beyond Iceland’s borders: the works made during residencies get a completely new statute when brought back to the home country and exhibited to the local audiences. Through the change of environment, the artworks then get attributed a new function as an object of marketing or advocacy, and they allow for an intimate view into Iceland while adding a layer of economic value to the discussion of the place of residencies in Iceland. 

In this way, the artist in residency differs from the general tourist. Through their slower and deeper engagement with the country, its inhabitants, nature and the environment in general, they can take something else than memories and leave more than footprints. They take a more profound understanding of the subject of their study, might gain insights through reflection or can set the first steps in a new project, but the things they leave behind often are also more than just the silent traces of their visit. Residents have the potential to bring cultural diversity to local communities, enrich others with new or different perspectives and generally contribute to the liveliness of the art scene. 

In the context of these residencies, it is important to view their value as abundant rather than something solely for the artist’s benefit. The relationship between residents, the residencies themselves, local communities, and the towns hosting these programs is one of mutual benefit, exchange, and growth. Through ongoing reflection, mutual aid, collective effort, adaptability, and persistence, these residencies will hopefully continue to thrive and secure a sustainable presence both locally and internationally in the years to come.

Useful list of Artist in Residence in Iceland.

Julia expresses gratitude to Eva, Hólmar, Kamilla and Martynas for their kindness to host her and expand on any questions related to this article.