Exhibition JAÐARLÖND | BORDERLANDS – a part of Reykjavík Arts Festival 2020, –will be open from Friday 21st of August at the National and University Library of Iceland – Þjóðarbókhlaðan, Arngrímsgata 3, in Reykjavík. The exhibition will stand until September 20, 2020.
Åse Eg Jørgensen (Denmark), Imi Maufe (Norway), Kestutis Vasiliunas (Lithuania), Nancy Campbell (UK), Rebecca Goodale (USA), Bożka Rydlewska (Poland) – og ARKIR: Anna Snædís Sigmarsdóttir, Arnþrúður Ösp Karlsdóttir, Áslaug Jónsdóttir, Bryndís Bragadóttir, Helga Pálína Brynjólfsdóttir, Ingiríður Óðinsdóttir, Kristín Þóra Guðbjartsdóttir, Jóhanna Margrét Tryggvadóttir, Sigurborg Stefánsdóttir, Svanborg Matthíasdóttir.
The title of the exhibition, JAÐARLÖND | BORDERLANDS, refers to the peripheries of the world, the borders and boundaries that are, after all, subject to change and movable and highly fickle in the history of the world. In the works, the artists explore various perspectives on land and in nature, boundaries and borders, text and languages, communication and cultures.
Archilochus colubris (Ruby-throated Hummingbird)
Artist Book by Rebecca Goodale, with Jan Owen (calligraphy), and poet Lisa May Hibl (poem)
2020, edition of 2/2
Reduction linocuts with chiné colle printed by the artist at Circling the Square Press in Gardiner, Maine, then 6 prints were joined together to form each banner book. Bound by the artist in Japanese cloth with clam shell box. Poem created by Woolwich, Maine poet Lisa Hibl and calligraphy by Belfast, Maine artist Jan Owen.
Signed in pencil on the bottom back edge by all three artists.
Closed book in box measures:29 x 19 x 4 cm
Open and hung on the wall or reclining on a table measures:120 x 60 cm
Images above: Details from Archilochus colubris (Ruby-throated Hummingbird), Artist Book by Rebecca Goodale, with calligraphy by Jan Owen, and poem Lisa May Hibl
Bits of Lite-Brite green, the modest slope of belly
in high resolution at the bee balm,
he makes his circumference. Emily’s choice noun.
Arbiter of heaven, cipher of air,
he makes his dalliance brightly, the doors all but blasted
apart, no spies,
that thistle I leave, stately skeletal, for him,
in the corner—
Love, where did your bird go?
-- poem by Lisa May Hibl --