Í verkum sínum hefur Katrín Ólína smátt og smátt þróað heila myndveröld, heillandi töfraheim sem er í senn nútímalegur, dreginn upp með hreinum línum og fylltum litaformum, og dularfullur, næstum forn – óræður heimur þar sem mörg lög af formum og línum hlaðast upp svo áhorfandanum finnst hann horfa inn í stóran, stundum alltumlykjandi skóg. Þessi skógur er eins og skógarnir sem við lásum um í æsku, djúp undraveröld þar sem allt getur gerst, hætta getur leynst bak við hvert tré og sögurnar geta tekið óvænta stefnu fyrirvaralaust.

 

Þótt Katrín Ólína hafi byrjað feril sínn í hönnun hafa verk hennar þróast þannig að vart er lengur hægt að fella þau undir eitt svið. Veröldin sem hún skapar liggur einhvers staðar á mörkum hönnunar, myndlistar og myndskreytingar. Eins og alltaf gerist hjá listamönnum er eins og verkefnið hafi tekið af henni völdin og fundið sinn eigin farveg. Hún notar tölvuna sem teikniborð og nýtir möguleikana sem þannig opnast til hins ýtrasta, sker flóknar teikningar út og límir upp, gjarnan á stóra fleti svo áhorfandinn týnir sér í þeim. En hún leggur líka áherslu á tenginguna við eldri handverkshefðir og við uppruna hönnunarfagsins í framleiðslu nytjahluta og skrautmuna. Hún leikur sér á mörkum hins stafræna heims og hins handgerða, og leitar jafnt í fútúrískar pælingar og fornar, deyjandi hefðir. Þannig vinnur hún nýjustu verk sín í samstarfi við danska teppafyrirtækið Ege sem framleiðir hágæða teppi fyrir stofnanir og fyrirtæki á borð við hótel, en hefur líka leitað til listamannanna í Possement í Árósum sem búa til dúska með ævagömlum aðferðum, meðal annars fyrir dönsku konungsfjölskylduna.

 

Myndheimur Kartínar Ólínar verður æ flóknari og dularfyllri, dýptin meiri og teikningin kraftmeiri. Myndir hennar – hvort sem er á vegg, prent eða teppi – hafa lengi verið líkt og þrungin af spennu: Hvaða veröld er þetta? Hverjir búa þarna? Hvað er að fara að gerast? Nú fáum við fyrstu vísbendingar um svarið. Í nýju verkunum teflir Katrín Ólína fram nýjum, nafngreindum verum sem við sjáum nú að búa inni í djúpri töfraveröld skógarins – og hafa kannski alltaf leynst þar þótt við kæmum ekki auga á þær. Fyrstan kynnir hún til sögunnar töframanninn Miklameir sem er, enn sem komið er, jafn dularfullur og óútreiknanlegur og skógurinn sem hann býr í. Verk Katrínar hafa lengi vakið löngun okkar í sögur og nú, þegar fyrstu vísbendingarnar í frásögninni eru komnar fram spyrjum við með enn meiri eftirvæntingu: Hvað gerist næst?

Jón Proppé

listheimspekingur

 

 

Presenting "Milklimeir the magician", by Katrin Olina at SPARK DESIGN SPACE. There is a long tradition of using rugs to tell stories and the exhibition features carpets depicting the unfolding world of Miklimeir and his magic gardening.

Katrín Ólína has developed a rich visual language that builds on research, experimentation and intuitive creative drawing processes that combine the use of technology with the hand drawn. Her imagery and graphics are often centered around natural elements and the imaginary. As her work has evolved, Katrín has created a personal world where sense of wonder, new experiences and questions about the nature of things abound.

Born in Iceland, Katrin Olina studied Industrial Design at the E.S.D.I. in Paris before working in the European design studios of Philippe Starck (Paris) and Ross Lovegrove (London). Since then, she has worked predominantly as a graphic artist and illustrator in the fields of industrial design, fashion, interiors, print and animation. Her work has also been featured in several prominent museum and gallery exhibitions around the world.

MIKLIMEIR

 

The companions looked at each other. Straight ahead of them sat the black box. It was like a tower floating there above a black-and-white chessboard landscape. Every tiny movement made the surface undulate beneath their feet, unsettling their stomachs.

 

Drawn by its mystery, they crossed the squares of the board until they were only one row away from the box. Then, something unexpected happened…

 

The lid flew off and from it shot strings and fibres, up into the air, constantly spinning, first into a ball, then other shapes, until finally it formed into a creature. High above them the creature swung back and forth like an inverse pendulum, looking down on the companions with its big eyes. Then it smiled a toothy smile and broke into song:

                  “Thank you for releasing me”, the creature sang in its high, unassuming voice.

                  “So boring in the box, so cramped and lonely. But now I’m free and we shall have fun!”

                  “But who are you?”, the companions asked.

                  “I am Miklimeir!”, the creature answered, throwing its hands up in joy.

                  All at once the sky dazzled and flashed with rebounding green colours, and further strings and fibres sprung from the creature’s head, rejoining themselves high above in another magical box.

                  “What an acrobat! How creative!”, the companions said to each other, astounded by the performance.

                  Then, roots began to stretch out in all directions, stems and leafy clusters springing up like rabbits out of a hat. The magic gardening gathered pace, twisting and weaving plant strands, producing creatures from the strangest corners of existence out of thin air, until the entire, magnificent structure was crowned by the most wonderful flower the companions had ever seen. Pouff! Pouff!

                  “Ha, ha!”, laughed Miklimeir, “So much more to come!”

                  And with a wave of the magician’s hand the companions were flying. With no idea how, they found themselves hovering high above Miklimeir’s incredible world, or exploring deep among its thick roots, or shooting up with its buds. It was as if biosynthesis itself were at work in their very core, behind their eyes, drawing the future within their memories.

                  And then, at the culmination of the magical process, when all is possible and creation breathes in perfect harmony, there was another surprise.                 

 

Without warning, there was a blast and a shriek and the creature Miklimeir, along with the entire world of his creation, deflated and shrank, sucked back into the black box which snapped shut with a deafening SLAM!

 

                  The blast threw the companions back down to their places on the rippling checkered landscape. The black box was there once more, but Miklimeir was gone.

 

                  Everything was as before, as if it had all been merely an illusion or a mirage. Only now the box appeared to pulsate with a green glow that beat in time with their own hearts.

                  The companions turned away and stepped smiling out of this unknown world…and into the next.

 

Story by Katrín Ólína, with thanks to Pálmi Ragnar Pétursson.

English translation by Katrín Ólína and Ben Moody.