Cheeky’s mural on Stjerneskibet, Pusher Street, Christiania, Copenhagen
This summer, the pushers were finally kicked out of Freetown Christiania. Everyone is still waiting with bated breath and fingers crossed, hoping that the old hippie commune will resist the temptation to invite in the dullest of commercial forces. Although the fact that far fewer murderous predators are now strolling around there is a great look for the neighbourhood. As if by magic, the atmosphere on Pusher Street has changed completely. Previously, a skating rink would have been unthinkable here, yet there it is. In the middle of the street is Stjerneskibet (The Starship), an important gathering place for residents and visitors with Greenlandic backgrounds. The building has been renovated and now features a delightful mural by Cheeky, who grew up in Christiania and now lives in Nuuk. The style is delightful, poised somewhere between Aka Høegh’s animism and French-Belgian 1980s comic book art. Beads drip and scatter from a woman’s traditional costume, transforming into a vibrant starry sky above a fishing boat, bringing hope for a new era for Christiania.
Debbie Sings, Brodie Five, TAP 1, Copenhagen
A fantastic stage – a veritable boxing ring created by Inter.agcy – was lowered from the ceiling. Cue the arrival of performance artist Camilla Lind in a cobalt blue bikini and knee-high boots, shouting and waving her arms to whip up the crowd. Behind her was singer Sophia Hage wearing pink boxing gloves and a bunny mask and trailing a string of silver helium balloons. The two took to the stage and things went berserk in a burst of raving hyperpop madness, one energetic scene following the next. At one moment, a cowbell was being struck with great force; at the next, Lind was hanging from the boxing ring ropes, legs up and head down. Hyperpop is the punk of our time, and its visual politics feels like an incisive response to – and expression of – a hyper-political reality with little faith in realpolitik, but plenty of affective engagement. Perhaps this also accounts for all the gas balloons bouncing around contemporary art these days.
Ursula Reuter Christiansen, I Am Fire and Water, Arken, Ishøj
Since 2011, I haven’t been able to fully rotate my right arm. This is the outcome of a tumble I took on a dance floor during an absolutely wild party on the island of Møn. The party – and fall – took place in Ursula Reuter Christiansen’s studio, where the concrete floor was gooey with caramel. And if it had to happen, I’m glad it’s this particular artist I think of whenever my arm aches. This year, Ursula absolutely slayed at her retrospective, still on view at Arken. Around an old sleigh operated by a silver-sprayed eagle, stands a collection of paintings from the past forty years. The only passenger is a worn, white-grey fur coat – the one in which the artist has proclaimed she wishes to be buried. An organ composition by her late husband, Henning Christiansen, pulses through the entire exhibition. It’s a story of art and life with an immense wingspan that the following generations can never match – or so I thought at first. But on second thought: why not?
For this year’s contributions to the Advent Calendar, see here.
