Ragnar Kjartansson
Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson, whose video works are on display at the National Gallery of Victoria from 26 June. Photograph: Rafael Pinho
A nine-screen installation with a cult following is one of many highlights in the Icelandic artist’s first major Australian show, at Melbourne’s NGV.
In a video recorded by Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson, he stands side by side with his mother, Guðrún Ásmundsdóttir, in front of a bookshelf, as if posing for a photo. Ásmundsdóttir was 65 at the time and appears with a halo of greying curls, wearing a red cardigan. She looks up at her smartly dressed son, then repeatedly, noisily, spits into his face.
“I wanted to make a brutal work,” says Kjartansson of the video, which he made in 2000 while at art school in Reykjavík. He almost succeeded. For most of it, Kjartansson mutely accepts the abuse from his stony-faced mother. Occasionally, though, the pair dissolve into laughter.
Every five years, Kjartansson and Ásmundsdóttir have restaged the piece. As the videos progress, you witness both mother and son ageing. The latest of the six instalments was filmed in 2025, the year Ásmundsdóttir turned 90. “She almost can’t spit any more. It’s very hard for her,” says Kjartansson.
The work almost didn’t develop into this modern-day memento mori. A guest lecturer told him the first recording was a “failure” because “you see that you are pretending”; it didn’t help that, in Iceland, Ásmundsdóttir is a well-known actor.
Kjartansson, who is quick to laugh and thoughtful in conversation, remembers being “heartbroken” by the feedback. “But then I became very thankful for what he told me because it became the essence of my works: working with this reality that is pretend. When you are on stage, pretending, it is still reality.”
Read full article at theguardian.com.