tirsdag den 30. september 2008
On September 8th 2005, 105 persons disguised as clowns – the so-called Clown Army – were arrested while defending some housewagons in Christiania in Copenhagen.
A year later, on August 28th, a group of activists disguised as pirates occupies the small fortress Trekroner in Copenhagen Harbour to protest the final and negative court decision on the eviction of the Ungdomshus users.
These two incidents are linked by the use of disguise. Disguise is a central element on both sides of the Ungdomshus conflict. The activists disguise themselves – in more or less creative manners – to avoid being identified, arrested, charged and convicted by the authorities. The police is diguised, hidden by their helmets and visors, not only for physical protection, but also to render themselves anonymous; another kind of identity protection.
As for the Ungdomshus movement, these diguised identities are paralleled by the horizontal organization structure, where events are organised by different and shifting group constellations, which makes it hard for the media and the surrounding society to recognize any leaders or a responsible core of activists. In such a structure no one has the ability or the need to seize power and to control and direct the movement over a longer period. Another kind of democracy?
The theme of disguise is one of the main themes of this suite of pictures, used in different configurations and to various degrees.
A year later, on August 28th, a group of activists disguised as pirates occupies the small fortress Trekroner in Copenhagen Harbour to protest the final and negative court decision on the eviction of the Ungdomshus users.
These two incidents are linked by the use of disguise. Disguise is a central element on both sides of the Ungdomshus conflict. The activists disguise themselves – in more or less creative manners – to avoid being identified, arrested, charged and convicted by the authorities. The police is diguised, hidden by their helmets and visors, not only for physical protection, but also to render themselves anonymous; another kind of identity protection.
As for the Ungdomshus movement, these diguised identities are paralleled by the horizontal organization structure, where events are organised by different and shifting group constellations, which makes it hard for the media and the surrounding society to recognize any leaders or a responsible core of activists. In such a structure no one has the ability or the need to seize power and to control and direct the movement over a longer period. Another kind of democracy?
The theme of disguise is one of the main themes of this suite of pictures, used in different configurations and to various degrees.
tirsdag den 9. september 2008
These two new pictures are connected to the demolition of Ungdomshuset.
On March 1st, 2007 very early in the morning, the Danish police entered the building from the roof, using two military helicopters. In a short, effective and violent sweep, everybody in the house was evicted. Witnesses talk of massive doses of teargas and direct fights. How to visualize this event, which was already covered heavily by news-photographers? How to illustrate the threat and the violence used by the police force? I found a photo of one of the two helicopters employed, rising over the rooftops of Jagtvej; instead of describing the dramatic eviction itself, this picture focuses on the rising threat. A dark shadow rising to conquer.
On March 5th the whole house was demolished. A few days later some of the policemen, who had taken part in the eviction, were spotted on the empty ground, demonstratively pissing, marking their newly won territory. This led to reports in the news and debate about the emotional distance or lack of same within the police force. The Danish artist Claus Carstensen has worked intensely with this theme: Territorial Pissing. It was tempting to use this scene as an appropriation of his signature image; both in style and composition this picture paraphrases his work in this field.
On March 1st, 2007 very early in the morning, the Danish police entered the building from the roof, using two military helicopters. In a short, effective and violent sweep, everybody in the house was evicted. Witnesses talk of massive doses of teargas and direct fights. How to visualize this event, which was already covered heavily by news-photographers? How to illustrate the threat and the violence used by the police force? I found a photo of one of the two helicopters employed, rising over the rooftops of Jagtvej; instead of describing the dramatic eviction itself, this picture focuses on the rising threat. A dark shadow rising to conquer.
On March 5th the whole house was demolished. A few days later some of the policemen, who had taken part in the eviction, were spotted on the empty ground, demonstratively pissing, marking their newly won territory. This led to reports in the news and debate about the emotional distance or lack of same within the police force. The Danish artist Claus Carstensen has worked intensely with this theme: Territorial Pissing. It was tempting to use this scene as an appropriation of his signature image; both in style and composition this picture paraphrases his work in this field.
tirsdag den 2. september 2008
UNGDOMSHUSET
The house and the house-that’s-not-there-anymore is the central emotional trauma from which my narrative unfolds. It’s from this symbol that the collective emotional energy of both/all sides in the conflict surrounding UNGDOMSHUSET springs. Hatred, rage, bitterness and righteousness. Engagement, belonging, sharing.
UNGDOMSHUSET was given by the mayor of Copenhagen to a group of squatters, the so called BZ, back in 1982. After a long series of violent fights and general trouble with the very active movemnet of squatters, the city of Copenhagen wanted to calm the situation down by giving the BZ a house to develop their special branch of punk-culture in. The strategy didn’t really work and trouble, squatting and street-fighting continued. The house was there to stay though, and all thru the 80s and 90s it became a central platform for the alternative punk- and activism-culture in Copenhagen. Following a controversy with the users about a fire and the general condition of the building itself, the city government decided to close it down and sell the building in 1999. It is from this point in the history of UNGDOMSHUSET that my narrative starts. A labyrinthic story of strange politically motivated sales, religious fanaticism, and wild violent hatred. But also a story of how a heavy traumatic loss thru collective activism is transformed into ’temporary autonomous zones’.
These two first pictures portray the house and the missing house as dark dramatic sites. Utilizing a figurative format inspired by agit-prop, and Chinese landscape-painting (how does inspiration actually work?), I intend to present the two places as flat cartoon-like props, but also as dramatic platforms; sites that attract and facilitate emotional identification.
The house and the house-that’s-not-there-anymore is the central emotional trauma from which my narrative unfolds. It’s from this symbol that the collective emotional energy of both/all sides in the conflict surrounding UNGDOMSHUSET springs. Hatred, rage, bitterness and righteousness. Engagement, belonging, sharing.
UNGDOMSHUSET was given by the mayor of Copenhagen to a group of squatters, the so called BZ, back in 1982. After a long series of violent fights and general trouble with the very active movemnet of squatters, the city of Copenhagen wanted to calm the situation down by giving the BZ a house to develop their special branch of punk-culture in. The strategy didn’t really work and trouble, squatting and street-fighting continued. The house was there to stay though, and all thru the 80s and 90s it became a central platform for the alternative punk- and activism-culture in Copenhagen. Following a controversy with the users about a fire and the general condition of the building itself, the city government decided to close it down and sell the building in 1999. It is from this point in the history of UNGDOMSHUSET that my narrative starts. A labyrinthic story of strange politically motivated sales, religious fanaticism, and wild violent hatred. But also a story of how a heavy traumatic loss thru collective activism is transformed into ’temporary autonomous zones’.
These two first pictures portray the house and the missing house as dark dramatic sites. Utilizing a figurative format inspired by agit-prop, and Chinese landscape-painting (how does inspiration actually work?), I intend to present the two places as flat cartoon-like props, but also as dramatic platforms; sites that attract and facilitate emotional identification.
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