(Translated from norwegian)
In an industrial building at Ensjø in Oslo, a genderless figure lies with flowers in its mouth. The figure is cast in plaster and painted with oil paint, while the flowers are hand-painted bronze. A small lizard rests on its thigh.
“Isn’t it funny?” says Christian Ringnes, pointing at the lizard.
“Doesn’t it make you feel a little fond of it?”
Ringnes points out that he is “more interested in sculptures than the average person,” which makes everyone in the room smile, as the businessman and property developer has filled an entire park in Ekeberg, Oslo, with such artworks. When we suggested meeting at the studio of artist Anders Holen, he was happy to oblige, even if he had to walk through construction machines and muddy wheel tracks in galoshes to get here. It wasn’t difficult for Talent Norge to convince him to support the project they had started with the Astrup Fearnley Museum. Like the other collectors, Ringnes committed to a piece by an artist he didn’t know at the time.
“How you develop talent in music is obvious. But how do you do it in visual arts? It’s not as straightforward. When the idea of connecting art collectors, artists, and writers came up, I was very positive,” says Ringnes.
He was paired with Anders Holen through a classic lottery at the museum. The exciting part, he says, was whether he would be matched with an artist who “did something sculptural.”
“It’s okay to be lucky!”
He smiles contentedly. When we meet, the project is still in an early phase. With both project and work grants, Anders Holen will spend the next year creating the work he will exhibit as part of the Platform for Young Norwegian Art and Criticism. According to Ringnes, this is exactly the kind of framework young artists need.
“Having the financial means to work concentrated over time is important,” he says.
“In addition, this project includes a pathway that ends with an exhibition. A goal to work towards. I think that gives a different drive. Freedom where it’s needed.”
At a small table in the studio, Anders Holen picks at some small sculptures—everlasting candles that will be cast in bronze and painted. That’s what he thinks, at least. All around the studio are such ongoing processes: newly formed ideas, works that are almost finished, failed attempts that may never amount to anything. Being able to allow oneself to be in such processes is important for a young artist, says Holen.
“What I need most is the freedom to use time where it’s needed. That can be working physically, but it can also be pondering a work or just reading up on something. Letting ideas grow.”
For ideas to come and develop, financial security is important, he says.
“When I graduated from the Academy of Fine Art, I had three jobs simultaneously and ran a gallery on the side. And then I was supposed to make art on top of that. For me, it was a turning point when I was awarded the State’s work grant for three years. It gave a completely different predictability and calm. This time, I’ve allowed myself to be in an uncertain, intuitive state for quite a long time. It’s been challenging but also incredibly rewarding.”
The sculpture by the window has just returned from the Kristiansand Kunsthall. One of many places where Holen has shown his works since graduating from the Academy of Fine Art eight years ago. But this is the first time he’s making a piece for one of the country’s largest museum institutions. The process is both similar and a bit different, he says.
“So far, the museum has made two studio visits, not just the curators but also the communications team, who talk about how they work with everything from social media to posters on trams and buses. A technician also came along. That’s new. I have a strong need to control these things, so I have to learn to let go a bit.”
Critique and Capital
Another guest has come much more frequently. Simen J. Helsvig is a writer and art critic, following Anders Holen through the process towards the exhibition at the Astrup Fearnley Museum. In addition to meeting at the studio, they sometimes sit in a café and just talk. A use of time that feels almost luxurious for a young writer, says Helsvig.
“When I was asked to contribute, I quickly realized that this was a different type of assignment than I was used to. The conditions are unusually good, both in terms of time and finances. It has been exciting and fruitful to have these conversations with Anders over time and to delve so deeply into his artistic practice.”
Helsvig is himself trained as a visual artist but realized during his education that he was more interested in writing. After a bachelor’s degree in art from Glasgow School of Arts, he went to Copenhagen to pursue a master’s in mediation and art theory. Back in Norway, he started writing for Kunstkritikk, where he is both a reviewer and journalist.
“For me, versatility has been the key to making a living from writing in what many describe as an end-times period for the media,” he says.
“It also means that you have to take on a lot of assignments, hop from one task to another, and deal with the art world’s calendar, which often sets limits on how long you can spend on a text. What I think I need most, apart from the accumulated experience of writing a lot over time, is the opportunity to slow down and go deeper. Who am I when I write? Do I have a project as a writer? You rarely get time to reflect on such things in a normal workday.”
Spreading the Ideas
“Many exhibitions that should have been written about are not,” says Anders Holen. As a young artist, you often end up showing your works to friends and colleagues in an artist-run gallery before they disappear again.
“We need more voices trained in reflective and critical thinking, who can elevate the discussion and bring your works and the questions you raise to a broader public,” he says.
The meetings between Helsvig and him have been about much more than just his works, he says.
“We have often talked about quite big concepts, a sort of attitude towards art. Conversations that actually stretch far beyond the artistic. I feel lucky in the sense that Simen is also a practicing artist. It probably means some things can remain unsaid.”
Both the writers and artists associated with the project have traveled with the Astrup Fearnley Museum to New York. It gives a different weight, says Holen, when a museum institution contacts you on your behalf and wants to introduce you to its network. Ringnes, who knows a thing or two about how such networks and mechanisms work, stands nearby and nods.
“Everything is very relative in the art world,” says Ringnes.
“It’s taste and moods that prevail, galleries that promote their artists, who manage to excite museums and collectors and contribute to money and fame. Getting the chance to be seen early is important. It doesn’t come naturally to everyone. This initiative can help with that.”
He glances at the figure by the window again, still enthusiastic.
“But of course, first and foremost, you have to be a good artist. Otherwise, nothing helps.”
