In Iceland, the crew and I threw together a last-minute pop-up exhibition. Bjarmanes, the sporadically open, infamous meeting spot for the who’s who of Skagastrond’s knitting community, was set to have a Christmas gathering and offered us their walls. We pounced on the opportunity for artistic exposure and the dopamine rush that is seeing other humans.
Skagastond has become a popular stop for travelers driving along Ring Road each summer. When tourism dries up, the one bar and restaurant in town shuts down.
Set in a wooden home steps from the Arctic Ocean and decorated with Victorian furniture, Bjarmanes is the only place in Skagstrond resembling a bar in winter. To add fuel to the flame, Bjarmanes is the only place to get a drink within 20 minutes of driving.
Iceland outlawed booze in 1915. First to push back was Spain, who threatened embargos on Icelandic fish unless the country began importing Spanish wine. With spirits still banned, doctors advocated for medicinal alcohol prescriptions - whiskey for chest pain and gin for neurosis. In 1933, the ban on liquor was lifted by a 60% majority vote. The country now allowed wine and spirits to be imported, but not beer.
Denmark controlled Iceland until their independence in 1944. While in the throws of WWII, Iceland took advantage of a distracted Denmark and quietly slipped out of the room to assume control of their foreign affairs and establish an independent republic. Iceland’s refusal to lift prohibition on beer was an act of defiance against beer-loving Denmark.
When tourism picked up in the 1970s, Icelanders got their hands on real beer through illegal imports, and countrywide rallying to lift prohibition began. Through the 70s and 80s, bartenders were serving “Ghost beer”, non-alcoholic beer with a shot of vodka in it. The dedication to having an alcoholic beer swayed government officials, and beer was made legal on March 1, 1987, now known as Beer Day.
During prohibition, it was common to drink on weekends but not so much throughout the week. Despite limiting alcohol sales (including beer and wine) to bars and 46 Vinbudins (state-run liquor stores), Icelanders relished a newfound freedom to consume.
In response to escalating drinking, a tax was placed on purchases proportional to the percentage of alcohol. However, home brewing remained unregulated.
While this history is fascinating and fits in with Iceland’s track record of odd legislation, including a ban on dog ownership and watching TV in the summer, it has relevance in Skagastrond. One bar open one night a week means one shot to drink to oblivion.
The five of us showed up at 9:00 when the doors opened. We found a local man waiting on the steps, acting a smidge too friendly. Before we could take our seats, the man waiting on the steps started opening up to us in the unprompted way only a barfly would.
After asking our names he explained that tomorrow he would check in to a rehab facility, using the beer in hand as punctuation. He had been experiencing psychotic episodes while drinking and thought it was best to stop.
In response, one of us peeled off.
Throughout the night, Barfly circled us getting drinks, pulling up chairs, interrupting conversations, and dropping lightly veiled threats. Finally, we moved in closer and stopped engaging. He stomped away from us with so much anger, that another one of the artists left.
While things with Barfly were escalating, a busload of locals arrived with drinks in hand. They had a merry time, chatting, and looking at art.
When we finally thought we were free to enjoy the night, it happened.
Years ago, someone died inside a studio I was working in. It happened over the weekend and the body wasn’t found until Sunday evening. I came in Monday morning, knowing nothing. I had never been around death and had no reason to suspect the smell, but I knew. I felt this same knowing when I heard glass break that night. It was a crystal tumbler against Barfly’s skull. A deep, dull thud and a crack.
The two men tangled, pulling down curtains and knocking down tables until separated. Barfly was pulled to the far left corner, by Nicole’s watercolors. And the dolled-up extra from the party bus was thrown onto the couch by my paintings where someone sat on him.
We sat stunned, frozen in place. It happened all at once but frame-by-frame. While one person wiped the blood off his face, the bartender took a beer from Barfly’s coat pocket and handed it to him. Someone called the ambulance. The extra cried on the couch until escorted out the back. Icelandic slurs spewed from the corner.
We continued to sit.
After inspecting our work for damage, we left with a plan to come back the next day for deinstall. The next two days saw continuous trade of speculation and minimally nuanced perspective fueled by boxed Christmas wine that would barely make it to the holiday.
Of the bar fights and exhibitions I’ve seen, North American Aurora was the most captivating. That sound produced the best exhibition photos I’ve taken.
Bjarmanes opened again the next week. All cleaned up with only the knitting club inside, like normal. Rumors circulated about Barfly avoiding rehab and charges being dropped against his opponent. More than likely, it’s all been forgotten by now.
ReBORN
I’m excited to announce ReBORN, a group exhibition, will open March 30 in Petaling Jaya, Malaysia. The exhibition includes myself, Hoshiyu, and Purple Ling Studio. ReBORN will be on view from March 30 to June 30.
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