Two uniformed men march briskly down the main street in Nuuk. They hand out flyers, urging passersby to enlist in the Greenlandic army. Because the Greenlandic military intends to invade Denmark soon, and after that, the rest of the world.
The performance is part of the artwork Melting Barricades from 2004, a collaboration between Inuk Silis Høegh and Asmund Havsteen-Mikkelsen. Silis Høegh, born in Qaqortoq and now residing in Nuuk, graduated from The Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in 2010 and has made several documentary films, including Sumé: The Sound of a Revolution (2014). Havsteen-Mikkelsen, was born on the Danish island of Ærø and now lives in Copenhagen, having graduated from the art academy there in 2009. He now primarily works as a painter with a particular interest in architecture and climate.
Melting Barricades proved to be a breakthrough work for both artists. In addition to the recruitment campaign in the street, it consists of propaganda films and posters, Greenlandic military uniforms, a strategy for media manipulation, and all manner of other things required for the invasion of foreign territory. In 2004, two different versions of the work were exhibited: at a school in Nuuk, where it took the form of a bunker to protect Greenlandic values; and at Nordatlantens Brygge in Copenhagen, where it appeared as a kind of military base for planning the further invasion. Since then, it has been shown in numerous contexts, most recently at Kunsthal Charlottenborg in 2022 as part of the international group exhibition New Red Order Presents: One if by Land, Two if by Sea.
In the twenty years since it was first presented, the work has only become more insistently relevant. Ever since US President Donald Trump recently declared that American control of Greenland is an absolute necessity, and Donald Trump Jr. launched a charm offensive in Nuuk, the debate about Greenland’s future has raged with fresh fierceness. What will happen in the Arctic? Ought Greenland enter into a compact of free association with the US? And will Greenland finally achieve independence?
In Denmark, Trump’s remarks also ignited discussions about the future of the Danish Commonwealth, which comprises Denmark and two autonomous but not sovereign regions: the Faroe Islands and Greenland. Suddenly, we’re seeing panel discussions (some even in Greenlandic) on Danish television featuring multiple Greenlandic politicians, while half the journalists in Denmark are jumping on flights to the new airport in Nuuk. Have we been taking Greenland for granted? Might we lose a staggering 98% of Denmark’s territory? If so, what would that mean for Denmark’s geopolitical position?
Melting Barricades was recently acquired for the collection at the Nuuk Art Museum, where it was also exhibited until December last year. The Nuuk Art Museum was inaugurated in 2005, but its collection is older, comprising around 350 works by European artists who spent time in Greenland during the 19th century (such as Christine Deichmann, J.E.C. Rasmussen, and Harald Moltke) as well as Greenlandic artists like Miki Jacobsen, Buuti Pedersen, and Pia Arke (1958–2007).
Silis Høegh and Havsteen-Mikkelsen’s work plays with alternative history, specifically the idea that an opposite scenario might have played out: that Denmark might have been colonised, that Danish place names could have been replaced with Greenlandic ones, and that Greenlandic values could dominate the entire Danish Commonwealth. The question then becomes: what values would those be? Which values are worth fighting for?
Louise Steiwer: Melting Barricades envisions a scenario where Greenland is an independent nation. Why did you choose military forces as the starting point for opening this conversation?
Inuk Silis Høegh: Greenland is one of the few countries in the world that has never been at war, which made creating an army a fun thing to do. War makes people think about which values are worth fighting and dying for. In Greenland, there’s a lot of talk about independence, and achieving that would be great. The question is, what do we actually want to do with it? What values do we want to build a new nation on? That’s why part of our project included a drawing competition for Greenlandic children, aimed at exploring these values. The conclusion was: openness and peace. So when, in the fictional universe of the work, we invaded the rest of the world, we did so to bring about peace by dumping icebergs on all conflicts – to make everyone chill out, you know?
It’s also about empowering a few colonised people who, perhaps even from their own point of view, have been a bit hesitant and self-effacing in the past. There’s this saying that the best defence is a good offence, and our defence against cultural imperialism might be to go on the offensive. Having said that, and looking beyond all the aspects of geopolitics, cultural imperialism, and media manipulation, it’s also just plain fun to imagine that the world’s smallest population could invade the entire world.
LS: What was the political conversation about Greenlandic independence like in 2004?
Asmund Havsteen-Mikkelsen: The debate had been ongoing since the 1970s, if not before. In Inuk’s documentary about the band Sumé, you see how rock music helped create a kind of cultural self-awareness, but also how that identity was put under pressure by Denmark’s effort to modernise Greenland. That happened with the G50 and G60 Royal Commission reports on the development of Greenland from the 1950s and 1960s, which constituted the two major modernisation plans for a modern Greenland. In the process, Greenland lost itself, but this is also where the independence movement began.
In 2004, Greenland still had the Home Rule, and many areas, including the extraction of resources from Greenland’s environment, were still under Danish control. So actual independence seemed very distant. But with the 2009 Self-Government act, which allowed more areas of administration to be transferred to Greenlandic control, and most recently the Arctic strategy “Nothing about us without us” from 2024, it suddenly feels much closer. In 2004, it was still possible to approach the independence debate humorously, as we did with Melting Barricades. Today, I don’t think many would find it funny if Inuk and I walked around the main street in Nuuk in military uniforms, talking about invading the US.
ISH: Looking at the difference between 2004 and now, Greenlandic politicians are much bolder today. Topics that weren’t spoken about openly back then are now being voiced. For example, the illusion of Denmark as the benevolent colonial power acting with the best intentions has collapsed. Denmark has also started listening a bit more now that the US has entered the picture. I recently watched the DR [Danish Broadcasting Corporation] current affairs show Debatten about the future of the Danish Commonwealth. Usually, there’d be a single token Greenlander tucked away in a corner – if that – just because there’d be this sense that “we probably ought to invite one.” This time, there was an entire panel of Greenlanders. Suddenly, there was a completely different atmosphere in the room. For once, it genuinely felt like Danish politicians were listening.
LS: Do you find that things have changed particularly – and perhaps mostly – on Denmark’s side over the past twenty years?
AHM: Well, there’s definitely been a shift in Denmark, too. In 2014, a Greenland Reconciliation Commission was established, to which Helle Thorning-Schmidt [Social Democratic Prime Minister, 2011–2015] responded: “We don’t need reconciliation,” which is about as stupid as it gets. But with the sudden American interest in Greenland, it seems like independence is being accelerated.
ISH: I actually think the change began in Greenland. There has been a gradual empowerment of the Greenlandic people, a rise in authority and assertiveness. The dissatisfaction with being under Denmark’s rule dates back to 1953, when Greenland became a Danish county, and it has grown greater in step with Greenland’s growing self-awareness and self-worth.
LS: Looking back at your joint work twenty years later, how do you see it today? Could the same thing be done today, or have things changed – our sense of humour, for example?
ISH: A significant difference between 2004 and today concerns a shift in our relationship with truth. The work deals quite a bit with media manipulation. I remember we were surprised by how well it worked. We made the front pages of newspapers in Greenland, and people were incredibly confused. We were even reported to the police, and the national TV news didn’t dare cover the project until they’d consulted with the Home Rule government. That surprised me because we had clearly announced our performance as an art event.
The humorous aspect of the work was meant as a kind of Trojan horse. Humour is disarming; it makes people smile at first, but it also might seed some new thoughts. The fact that the work was taken so seriously also reflects a difference in our sense of humour —irony isn’t as common in Greenland. Today, there’s a much greater focus on fake news and misinformation, and most people have an innate scepticism toward news reports.
AHM: Most art projects have a limited lifespan, but Melting Barricades has had an extraordinarily long impact and continues to prompt new reactions. Nivi Christensen, who is now head of the Nuuk Art Museum, first came across the project as a 10-year-old pupil at the school in Nuuk. Now, twenty years later, she has acquired it for the museum’s collection.
LS: Presumably this also points to the fact that the conversation about Greenlandic independence remains unresolved. How do you view your work in relation to the current, rather heated situation?
ISH: When I think about the core questions of the work today, I see two completely opposing trends. On one hand, there’s a new focus on Indigenous rights, and it’s no longer acceptable to simply ignore the will of Indigenous Peoples as has historically been done. Conversations about past abuses are being revisited, so in that sense parts of what we called for in Melting Barricades have become reality. On the other hand, imperialism seems to be back. We’re back at a point where great powers are invading neighbouring countries to expand their territory, and it suddenly feels like we haven’t learned much from history. Things move in cycles.
The same applies to the Greenlandic independence debate. Fundamentally, it’s the same as it was twenty years ago. It’s still about what values we should base our nation on, who we should be friends and allies with, and how we would and should manage our independence in practical terms. Now, we see multinational mining companies entering the picture, companies with more lawyers than we have sledge dogs, and that just becomes yet another power dynamic we need to deal with, both in terms of economics and geopolitics.
LS: What do you think the geopolitical debates seen in the last month will lead to in Greenland and Denmark?
ISH: Greenland is due to have elections by April at the latest. That will be very interesting because the lines have been sharply drawn. In Greenland, we now have politicians who dare to stand up for themselves, and in Denmark, people have suddenly realised that Greenland is valuable and that the Danish Commonwealth is something they want to preserve. My worries concern the battle over truth. I believe both Denmark and the US have significant interests in interfering with the Greenlandic election, and I’m afraid it will turn into an algorithm war full of misinformation. Before long, all sorts of stakeholders will be waving dollar bills around to gain access to Greenland’s mineral resources, and we’ll need to hold on to our sense of self.
AHM: I also think we can expect American interference in the Greenlandic election. In the US, they’re building a narrative about how Denmark is racist and has neglected Greenland by refusing to let them extract their resources. We’re already seeing Elon Musk meddling in European politics. From a Danish perspective, I think the debate has already changed things. There’s suddenly a great deal of anxiety about losing what was previously taken for granted. This has prompted a healthy response of introspection, where Danes are looking inward and acknowledging the significant mistakes that we have made.
ISH: Most Greenlanders were quite horrified by Trump’s comments, but the respect Greenlanders are now receiving in Danish public discourse wouldn’t have come about without him. I hope that the outcome of this chaotic circus will be greater recognition from Denmark and more equality in discussions that concern Greenland. Fundamentally, I think Greenlanders want to maintain ties with Denmark because Greenlanders have always been collectivists in order to survive. In that way, we share a cultural bond with the Danish social democratic movement. The US, on the other hand, has a very different culture, one based on competition and individualism, and that kind of outlook is very foreign to Greenlanders.
LS: But there are also Greenlanders who talk about Greenland’s strong cultural ties to Indigenous Peoples in North America?
ISH: Yes, to Inuit populations in Canada and Alaska. However, Greenland is the only place where Inuit are the majority in their own country. We’ve preserved our language and self-identity in a way that hasn’t been possible for them. On the other hand, they’ve kept aspects of the old culture that we’ve lost, so there’s mutual interest in maintaining ties. But Inuit in North America don’t have their own independent territory, although there are areas with self-governance, so it would be difficult to establish genuine political collaborations with them. If Greenland is going to navigate as a nation, we need to establish an economic foundation, and that must happen through cooperation with other nations.
LS: How do you think Greenland’s cultural life will be affected if or when a greater degree of independence is achieved?
ISH: I hope it will make Greenland’s art scene stronger. The Greenlandic audience is quite small, which makes it difficult to survive as an artist acting on purely commercial, market-driven terms. That’s why I hope we can establish a solid cultural policy that acknowledges the importance of art for Greenlandic identity. It’s going to be a long process because, on one hand, there’s a strong will to fight for Greenlandic language and culture. On the other hand, there’s little concrete action behind the words. When the healthcare system is falling apart, that quite naturally becomes a greater priority for politicians.
There’s plenty of art and music in Greenland, but it’s mostly something people do in their spare time. I hope we can strengthen the professional art scene, and doing that requires political support. Professional artists in Greenland have long had to orient themselves towards Europe to make a living, but we’re so far away from the rest of the world that this too can be problematic. You want to create works that speak to Greenlanders and spark debates here, and doing that is challenging if you always have one foot in Europe. Creating art that works equally well in both places is no simple task.
It’s historically been very difficult to have Greenlandic art displayed at major Danish venues like Louisiana or the National Gallery of Denmark (SMK). When Louisiana held its major exhibition on the Arctic in 2014, there wasn’t a single artist with Inuit heritage included, which is astounding – especially given that Denmark itself isn’t even part of the Arctic. In recent years, however, Jessie Kleemann has had a solo exhibition at SMK, and Inuuteq Storch has represented Denmark at the Venice Biennale. So things are changing.
