Many of the works in Iðavöllur are big and chock-full of issues and socially engaged ideas, like so much art elsewhere.
The Icelandic artist fashions sculptures and wall works from the primary substance of her volcanic and volatile homeland.
Artist Nancy Campbell’s book The Library of Ice draws parallels between ecological breakdown and the loss of human culture.
AKUREYRI, Iceland — If you set out from Reykjavík northbound on Route 1, the road that rings around most of Iceland, you will, after give or take five hours, find yourself in Akureyri.
STYKKISHÓLMUR, Iceland — It’s hard to miss Vatnasafn, or the Library of Water, if you know what you’re looking for.
When a person dies, his loved ones typically deliver the body to a morgue before it reaches the final destination; Icelandic artist Snorri Ásmundsson is requesting that someone take a detour on that route to participate in his art.
Iceland, more than most places on the planet, frequently reveals the cataclysmic activity below its crust through volcanoes, fissures, and geothermal pools.
I’ve been hesitant to embrace Christoph Büchel’s project for the Icelandic Pavilion at the 2015 Venice Biennale from the beginning.
Venetian officials plan to close the Icelandic Pavilion of the 2015 Venice Biennale, which features a working mosque that is part of an artwork by Swiss-Icelandic artist Christoph Büchel.
On this week’s art crime blotter: Iceland jails geyser-dyeing “landscape painter,” artist loses canvases left in alley, and offensive anti-homeless signs irk Illinoisans.
Roni Horn has been traversing and transcribing Iceland since 1975, when she was still a student of art, first at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), then at Yale University, where she received her MFA in sculpture. Of course, her work is not solely about Iceland, but it seems to be so much a part of her consciousness that it’s difficult to understand her art without also acknowledging this aspect of it.
LAUGARVATN, Iceland — I came to Iceland at the beginning of August for a month long stay at Gullkistan, a residency for creative people in Laugarvatn (pronounced something like Lurrahgahvaht-n) in southern Iceland. The residency fell into my lap and was perfect for what I wanted. As much as I love New York, I wanted to spend a month in a setting that couldn’t be more different — I wanted sublime natural beauty, peace and quiet, relaxation and simplicity — a reset button for myself. Gullkistan was an ideal answer.