The atmosphere, or the observation of a certain atmosphere, is what primarily evokes my enthusiasm and desire to make a piece of art. In most cases a conceptual thought or a thesis eventually takes over. But the atmosphere or mood is what comes first and remains the core of the work, supporting me throughout the working procedure. To depict a mood by the means of words only feels inadequate and pointless. That’s why I chose other ways; a combination of words, shapes, sounds, colors, lighting, scents and temperatures constitutes an installation. My installations are often assembled from everyday objects, interior design items, tools, textiles, rope, paint, metal objects and other low and high end material. Limits are pushed as I continuously gain new knowledge about materials and techniques.
Moods and feelings which often find their place in my works are reminiscent of feelings one has on a Sunday evening. You are tired, perhaps suffering from a small hangover and still the chores of everyday life are keeping you busy. You take a walk, eat Sunday dinner, and curse the forthcoming week’s work while you’re watching a mediocre thriller on TV. This mood is complex, but – perhaps because of that – may be engaged in many different ways. That’s why I often choose this mood, as it contributes discomfort and delight at the same time. Other moods I try to depict are childhood memories from the Stockholm archipelago; the elder’s loneliness; dismay; admiration; or fascination.
But alas, the mood is not enough. A story, theory or historical references gives the work substance and weight. To gain any of these, one needs research. This research probably takes up the most of my working time, but also makes me eager and gives me the desire to dig deeper. This in turn can put me in a negative cycle if I don’t cling on to the original mood. Is it perhaps my desire to convey a mood that stops me from becoming too involved in my research?
Historical phenomena, combined with today’s political climate, alongside laws and regulations (historical or present) evoke my interest to explore. As the artwork takes shape, the actual exploration becomes the concept. Other phenomena which attract my desire to explore may be structures and ways of thinking in past societies, evolutions in the Swedish language, old-fashioned values and practices, spare time occupations of days gone by, fiascos and flops, the closed world of art, historical people, sea voyage romanticism, and, not least, war, violence and weapons. To give myself a challenge, and to give the viewer something gripping to ponder, I often put these things up against each other or combine them in new and perhaps peculiar ways. That’s when the ambiguous, slightly dim feeling arises, quite like the Sunday mood.