Her og der's "Suspended Homes"

 

Time: Fredag 15. november kl 12-14

 

Mer info: http://herogder.org/

 Presentasjonen byr på 10 internasjonale kunstnarar.
Bli kjent med ei stor breidd av kunstnarskap i møte med internasjonale kunstnarar som nyleg har etablert seg i Norge.

 

Denne hausten deltek dei på Her og der sitt Suspended Homes program på Fykse med ei rekkje verkstadar med ulike kunstnarar.
Suspended Homes handlar om moglegheiter og utfordringar ved å etablera seg på ny som kunstnar og skapa tilhøyre til nye stadar. Her og der vert drive av Marie Skeie og Motaz al Habbash som er busatt i Ytre Ålvik. Sidan 2018 har dei organisert ulike mentorprogram, festival og utstilling med kunstnarar som er nye i Norge. Denne hausten inviterar dei kunstnarar busett ulike stadar i Norge til å oppleva Hardanger.

 

Kunstnarar de kan bli meir kjent med er:
Saba Pouyeshman
Bushra Khalid
Sonia Barreiro
Rajat Mondal
Sara Lucas
Volodymyr Filippov
Salomé Fournet-Fayas
Symin Adive
Pablo Lecroisey
Pei-Han Lin

 

Suspended Homes er støtta av KORO, Kulturdirektoratet, Vestland fylkeskommune og Billedkunstnernes vederlagsfond

In this chaotic world of 2024, every event takes on a historical hue, leaving behind scraps of headlines, fragments of faces, and symbols. Here’s the V sign — it reminds us of victory, of dreams of peace, of resilience. But next to it, the American flag flickers, accompanied by an ironic phrase: “as a rule, not serious.” The world is tangled and ambiguous, and we often can’t tell where the truth lies and where there’s only noise and deceit.

 

Through this backdrop, alarming words break through: “murder count” and “open dialogue.” Their contrast sharpens our senses, as if the world is balancing on the edge, and each conversation is an attempt to understand, prevent, to hold on to something precious. Someone says, “We began with a good dose of knowledge,” as if knowledge is our only shield against ignorance and violence. But in this world, where ideals are blurred, the words “Printed in Utopia” sound almost sarcastic — as if we’re searching for something unattainable, something that may never come to be.

 

The UN sounds the alarm, urging us to stop and take notice, as if the world is crying out for our attention. But hasn’t this happened before? It seems that each time, it’s the same words, the same loud declarations, the same alarm, only to once again underscore the scale of the disaster without offering anything concrete. They shout, raising this signal to the heavens, but in a world where words have long lost their value, it all sounds like an old tune, one from which we no longer expect real action.

 

On the sidelines, a cute kitten with the question: “Childlike? Or perhaps not?” As if even the most innocent things at first glance hold their own subtext and hidden meanings, reminding us that nothing is as simple as it seems.

 

And finally, a caricature labeled “Overheard” — a random yet accurate stroke of reality, caught in the crowd. All of this forms a silent question, one that we look inward to answer: “Why do I read?” Perhaps it’s the desire to understand, to grasp some meaning, to find an island of truth in this sea of fragments and contrasts.

 

Every word, every symbol, is one more step towards awareness, an attempt to gather an ideal out of chaos, even if it always remains just a little further than it seems.