In July, we had the pleasure of hosting a residency for two Swedish-speaking artists: Carina Ahlskog, who currently is based in the small Finnish town of Nykarleby, and Nea Landin, who is based in Stockholm. Carina started her artistic career as a dancer, but has veered towards visual arts and holds a Master’s Degree on the subject. As a sculptor, she combines the moving body with her art. Nea is a dancer and a choreographer with a vast and growing interest towards technology, computers and media art. During their residency, they were encouraged to share ideas and experiences, without the pressure of producing or creating, but, being creators, they couldn’t help themselves. This chat was held around a wooden kitchen table in Varjakka, Oulunsalo.
TaikaBox: So, how has your residency been so far?
Nea Landin: I actually read a lot yesterday. I found this really interesting book on touch, relating to today’s society, which is often spent at a distance, on the Internet, so what is touch in this day and age? What can it be in the future? To learn from the past and reinvent what it might mean. I don’t know, I’m halfway through. But I’m hosting a residency next week, through a festival called Impulstanz, It’s all online, but it’s part of a symposium that is centered on touch, so it’s quite interesting.
Carina Ahlskog: I have to say that this residency has given me the joy back in creating – I have been having projects back to back for three years, and noticed that I was really stressed and tired when I got here. Being here, walking around, being open to what has just come to me has been great. I have this project coming up this autumn, and in this project I’m going to work with voices and sculpture.
I was thinking we could go through your artistic careers a little, and think what has led you to right here and now, to this table. For instance, I know that you, Carina, had another profession before hopping on this cultural train.
Carina Ahlskog: Yeah, I have a background in physiotherapy and then I shifted to dance and visual art. Going really long back, I have always been really interested in movements, physicality, moving your body. But I grew up in this small town called Nykarleby,and at that time, it was not possible for me to find any dance classes, they didn’t exist. But I was really interested in movement and how to express yourself through that. So, when I was really young, I improvised a lot at home. I saw “Fame” [Nea goes “yeah!”] and it was like a new world for me. So, I started creating my own choreographies in my bedroom for myself, because I had no other place to go for that. But as I grew older, that took me to start studying dance. I was 21, but I had some sports background and was in good physique.
For a very long time, I thought dance was my total passion and the ultimate art expression, modern contemporary dance especially – because of the freedom to express who you are and what you like. But as the years went by, I got more interested in the art itself. What is the core in art? And I wanted to dig deeper in that direction, what is art? In a way, I noticed that what interested me was not the whole concept of dance, I was interested in picking out a single detail and making a whole story about that and maybe that is art – maybe that is the core of art. So, that led me into visual art.
So I started studying fine art in Yrkeshögskolan Novia in Jakobstad, took a Bachelor degree and also a Master in Fine Arts. I think that when I turned towards visual art, I had this maybe naive view of what free art is, that if I move into that context I would be free to do whatever I wanted. But when I stepped into that whole context, I found out that of course there are rules to follow. And in a way, because of how I felt with dance, I wanted more freedom, to get out of the stage, to be this free artist. And in visual arts you have to really find the core, so to speak, so when I stepped in there I noticed that it’s maybe even more limited than dance field in a way. I had come from the black box of the stage and entered the white cube of the gallery space, and there was nothing. Just white walls with no sound system or lights. I wanted to take the moving body, dancing and choreographing into that context. So, I started wondering what am I doing here – in the context, not in the art itself, there I felt the freedom I was looking for, but then I realised that I can do anything I want, it’s ok to dance in a gallery if I want to. So eventually, I found the freedom in the expression, but it was really hard in the context at first.
Nea Landin: I started dancing when I was 14, and I found dancing through theatre – I really loved theatre. Dancing came through “Singing In The Rain”, and – yeah – “Fame”. I was obsessed with musicals, it was amazing. And then, when I found dance, it was so natural, it felt like I found, maybe for the first time, something I could just do. Yeah, it just felt right and was easy, you know, as like a first. So that was really great. I was very into the performance aspect, and then when I went to the Ballet Academy in Stockholm. And I noticed that in there, you do some contemporary training and jazz, and quite a lot of commercial jazz stuff.
I think at that point I started feeling the pull towards contemporary dance, because for me, the most interesting thing about this – and still is, to this day – is the meeting with another person, physically, emotionally – the touch. And I was also, still am, very interested in improvisation and working with imagination and fantasy, more than learning steps on the stage. And when I graduated, I did that and still do as a dancer – but when I started dipping my toes into creating my own works, I still wanted to be surprised by the outcome. I was reluctant to be some kind of artistic genius, to say “This is my creation, these are the steps that I made”, you know? So I started making these systems to generate choreography. At first I worked with number systems and source material to put together choreography – the first thing I did… I was very into numbers, so I picked the number 5 because it’s very important in Discordianism, which is a parody religion – it’s like a whole thing, yeah [laughs].
I am so lost right now!
Carina: Yeah, me too!
Nea: [laughs] Yeah, Discordianism, we don’t have to talk about that so much because I don’t remember that much anymore, but it’s really fun. Yeah, it was created, I think by two pretty young guys – it’s all about praising chaos, basically. Anyways, there’s a book called Principia Discordia, which is their Bible. And there’s one part of that, stating: “All statements are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true and false and meaningless in some sense”, and I liked that as an approach to create something through randomness. I got into numbers between one and five and sourced materials – I started watching movies from between one and five minutes into a movie, watching five different movies, and I got the movement from a line that had been said, and the tone. I had this very specific system that put it together. I created it twice, and it became this weird dialogue between two performers. And when you watch it, it’s something that makes no sense at all, but it also becomes fantasy-triggering, and watching it, you really have to work with yourself to project yourself. And to me, it was so exciting – I like it when things become a bit odd.
Somehow that reminds me of Tool and their sometimes mathematical way of creating differences in rhythm. Like, having a mathematical pattern as a base for a rhythm.
Nea: That was my way into choreography originally. I also had some text stuff similar to that as well. But then COVID came into the picture. All the dance shows went away, and I suddenly had a lot of free time. Well, my partner is a programmer and was able to generate things through his computer systems. So I was thinking, this is a good next step for me. So I started taking this course about programming for artists, we got to dive into a bunch of different programming languages, and at first I was creating systems and geography and such. But then, I just realised that there’s a whole world of arts and tech that is still young, even if it’s been around for a long time. Technology is always evolving, and it’s so interesting. To play with the bodies’ role and position in virtual space, for example. So, after that I went back to this interest in meeting with other people and how to connect, and made this piece called “OTHER”, which was a computer mediated thread for two people connected via computers located in separate rooms. The people then were guided through this video call, where they got text instructions on how to interact with each other, like “touch through the screen”. It was one piece with two mice at the same part of the screen – you were able to draw together, but you had to follow the other person, not being able to speak or hear at that point.
So, you created conditions under which they were able to create something in collaboration? Very gamelike.
Nea: Oh yes. I think that’s a very important part of my work nowadays and I realised things about play and playfulness. I think I’m quite gamified.
Carina: I think it’s funny because in a way we are working in the same direction. COVID made you, Nea, dig deeper into this, into AI and digital space, whereas I started longing for the live performances again, because during that time everything was so digital. For me, I wanted the real touch, it became even more important. So, in a way, COVID made me do even more live performances. The desire for meeting, you can do it in so many different ways.
I participated in some of these online performance events, but it felt so strange. It was a hard time for me, a difficult time. But I actually had a working grant during that time also. So for me, I could explore and really try processes in another way. So for me it was amazing, having a salary during COVID.
Do you think there is a freedom of mingling art forms?
Carina: I think there is some kind of freedom to do that, but it always ends up with the financial stuff in a way. For instance, if I want to put dancers in the gallery space and I don’t want it to be just an opening performance but I want it to continue during the whole exhibition, it’s starting to cost a lot. So I would say that I think it works if you have great collaboration partners in other fields than your own, but if you are on your own and trying to push it there, it’s harder.
And of course, there are limitations to what you can do by yourself.
Nea: Maybe, especially in the stage arts, it’s more a tradition that everyone has a specific role – there’s the set designer, and the choreographer, and the composer. And when you, as an artist, especially in the freelance business where we do smaller productions, if you are a choreographer, for example, you also do other stuff – you’re a crossover artist. And for funders, that may be confusing, specifically in the performing arts – maybe much more than in the visual arts field, where people come from different backgrounds.
It also connects to the do-it-yourself kind of attitude for indie productions in arts and popular culture – when you are an aspiring artist, you just have to be able to do many things. But I think you can extend this idea to a performing artist, learning about lighting and sound, for instance.
Nea: Yeah, exactly. Also, it doesn’t have to be like, “I’m a dance artist. This is what I am”, but more “I’m an artist and I dance and I do lighting or whatever it may be”. And like, both of them are very much informing my artist in the end.
Do you think the idea of the Renaissance artist is somewhat on the rise because we have so many digital tools to cope with? We can do our own videos and light shows and all it takes is a laptop and some gear.
Nea: Yeah, perhaps. Giving people the tools to play with. That’s also not to say that we necessarily should – collaboration is also very valuable, and to be able to do several things doesn’t necessarily mean to shut down collaborations with other art forms.
Carina: And in visual arts, you’re always alone in your studio and you’re doing all this stuff – you’re editing, you paint. But in dance, you’re usually with someone or you have some kind of partners to connect to. So all of a sudden I found myself sitting alone in a studio and doing everything by myself, so for me it became really lonely. And I got so tired of myself – when I did a performance, myself, then edited myself on the video. I was just looking at myself all the time and I got so tired of myself that I really have tried to find collaboration partners and network, so I could get out of the studio, to meet some people, get some input, and not just be on my own.
The hard thing must be finding the balance – when there’s too many people and hubbub, and when you are alone and go nuts.
Nea: Yeah, and to be able to communicate and to understand each other, like… What to ask for? Because you’re vulnerable and also kind of dependent on the feedback. If someone says this doesn’t work, you know why, but if you know something about that craft you could also have a conversation – “Yeah, maybe we can do it like this.” So it could actually be a back and forth thing that’s interesting and figure things out.
Carina: And also when your body is your tool, it’s even more vulnerable because it’s personal.
Nea: It’s all about communication and learning how to communicate. “How do we talk to each other?”
I think that being a true professional is knowing when someone can do a task much better than yourself, and you can hand it over, let someone else do it for better results. So, in the end, it might be actually harmful for the piece to do everything by yourself.
Carina: Oh yeah. For example, like documentation – I started doing everything by myself, but nowadays I have a photographer with me all the time because I can depend on him, and I know he’s going to do a great job and I don’t have to worry about that part.
How do you find it when you collaborate and some of the glory and credit goes to that other person?
Nea: Oh, that’s just great, yeah. Because, you’re a team then.
Carina: If you have been working together, then you’re a team and you both get the credit.
Nea: Then again, there’s so much art that is actually crafting, and if someone who is just hired to, you know, make this little thing, they still are making so many decisions about that little thing while they’re doing it, so I think it’s fair – give credit where credit is due.
How have your processes changed? How have they developed from the time you started out?
Nea: In addition to exploring technology, another big change was, in the beginning I started not wanting to make many decisions – creating these systems in order to create art. But now, in the past two pieces that I’ve made, I’m definitely making decisions, performing more, curating art works more than I thought I’d want to do. There’s still some bits of that left – I still want to give participants agency, though. Last year I made this piece that maybe was inspired by COVID time’s online performances, thinking what it would be like to dance in front of the computer. So, I created a live stream performance called desktop.dreams, where I used my computer desktop as a stage and screenshared using normal computer applications, so it could be Photobooth, but it could also be Excel.
How much of the piece was improvised?
Nea: Almost nothing was improvised, but it was live – things could still go wrong. At the end of the piece I had an Applescript that opened a bunch of balloons, and if I clicked something wrong, it would all go south. And some of it was interactive, there was a comment section and all that. It was quite sensitive, because I was running the streaming, the sound and the performing.
What gave you the idea of creating a dreamscape out of your regular office tools?
Nea: I was thinking about it a lot even before that one. We spend so much time on our computer desktop, and there is already so much choreography in that – we store our memories in our computers, so there is a lot of personality already in that space. There’s a lot of Net Art movement, computer art, but there’s not a lot of dance artists.
Carina: What’s changed is that in 2022 I started working with other dancers. It was after I’d done my Master – my headmaster was really pushing me to finish my thesis properly. I was investigating how dance and choreography found their place in visual arts, historically. It was really difficult, but it meant a lot for me and gave me the courage to contact the Alpo Aaltokoski Company in Helsinki and ask if he wanted to collaborate with his dancers for a piece I wanted to show in a group exhibition at the Cable factory in Helsinki. I was quite well prepared for the call, and it took him four or five minutes to accept my proposal. That was a breaking point for me to start working with other artists. As a sculptor, I’m really interested in formations and how the moving body can be sculptural. So we made this piece “Ups and Downs” with ten dancers, five each time for five days a week, four times a day, creating a rhythm for the exhibition.
Another change is that I used to think that performances should have nice choreography, knowing the steps and have full focus on what’s going to happen next. But now I’m interested in everyday gestures. In the “Ups and Downs”, the only thing the dancers had to do was get up and down on a podium in their own way for twenty minutes. I minimised and took the tempo down, so it wasn’t easy for the dancers. So I would say my main change has been going from doing everything myself and recording myself to working with others. And it was really nice to be able to step back and look at the piece. But without my Master thesis and my headmaster who was pushing me, I wouldn’t have been able to change this way.
For someone who started wanting complete freedom, that sounds like a natural process in the evolution of an artist.
Carina: [laughs] I know, it’s a paradox! It’s like, when you have found your framework, you are free to explore within that framework – but if you don’t have that framework, you’re lost.
Nea: I think that it’s nice that, for me, there are inherent boundaries set by the technology I use. I also like how technology sometimes fails a little bit – the glitches are important for. I’m trying out different things. I made my first VR work, and that was also a journey of learning the boundaries of what’s possible. You can see such beautiful things made with 3D engines, but when you want them shown in VR, there are limitations to all that, or like how physics work in VR.
Do you think that there is something in your work that has become untouchable, sort of a holy cow for you?
Nea: I don’t know… I think it might be that it constantly still relates back to humanity. The self, the memories, the experience of being human. I don’t go too abstract, it’s always in relation to the body or the self – it’s not like I’d be making an abstract painting or anything like that. Like, in “Desktop Dreams”, the theme of the performance is about pondering on oneself and eternal life – super easy subject! It’s like me in relation to my past self, what makes me me, maybe? In relation to computer life.
Carina: For me, in sculpture, the body in motion of course. And I always come back to how humans can live together, find space for each other. I always come back to that theme, that all are equal and make growth together.
There’s always the risk that cynics come along.
Carina: I don’t really care. I always try to have a dialogue. I believe in collaboration and having a dialogue. For me, it’s still important to work in that direction, and talking about diversity there are always voices you shouldn’t pay attention to.
What are the visions for the future? Are you going to try out new things, or are you happy in the place you are now in?
Nea: I have previously played a little bit with sculpture as well – 3D scanning and modelling, and while I was here I had some time to explore it and now I’m getting quite excited about that. I created this little guy from the driftwood I scanned, and realised there is some stuff to learn – animating the waves, for instance that the guy floats on. It’s interesting to rig things, to make them into movable things that respond to physics. That’s one thing that came out of this residency. I don’t know where I’m heading with that, though. It’s not necessarily a big artistic direction, but it was fun, and it’s a good tool to work with. I think it’s nice to learn the sculpture aspect of the craft as well, and to collaborate. But it allows me to broaden a bit.
Carina: I’m going to work with my son, who is a musician/music producer, and a conductor and some vocalists, and make a live performance. It’s based on an old man’s life story, using his voice as well. It’s not quite a song, but more of a sound piece.
And I’m not quite sure where we end up, having just started working with the man, next are the vocalists and the conducting. And the vocalists are also going to be in sculptures, I’m going to create frameworks for them – tell them where and how to stand, try to create a symbiosis of voice and material they are using. We’ll see, in a way it’s a bit out of my comfort zone – I’m depending heavily on my son and the conductor, because I can’t coach the vocalists. When it’s dancers, I can help them, but this time I have to lean on other people.
I feel like you’re creating an additional step between yourself and the performance – you’re directing your son who is directing the vocalists.
Carina: Yeah, it’s a bit different for me this time, but we have collaborated before so he knows the drill. So it’s a bit different for me.
You’re deliberately stepping out of your box – you can’t touch a voice or make it move on stage, so to speak.
Carina: Exactly, so it’s a bit scary. This show is going to be part of an exhibition in Jakobstad in November. It’s going to be a bit tough, and it’s going to take up a lot of my time. But I have a lot of material from the man’s text, so we are going to use his voice – I have quite a clear idea, but I know that when I enter the space, there will be changes.
It very much sounds like a project that evolves as it goes on – you don’t know what might come up. Has this kind of art form been discussed much in visual arts?
Carina: Maybe more in conceptual art. And you could call this conceptual, because there is an idea and a process that is more important than the actual end result. But yeah.
Nea: Talking about projects, I have one coming up this fall as well. It’s a funded pre-study of a participatory performance, it’s mobile phone based. I have this friend I have collaborated with before, doing participatory projects based on sounds. So, my favourite programming language is Javascript, which makes this easier because you don’t have to make an app, the users can just go to a web page. Anyway, in this piece we divide the audience in two groups, and each member of the audience gets paired with a member in the other group. We’re taking inspiration like the player’s avatar, game situation, and half of the audience can be on the stage – it doesn’t have to be a stage, we’re trying different locations, it can be something else entirely, like a football field, or a park.
I don’t know where it’s going to be, we originally thought it would be a traditional stage. But the idea is that the sitting part of the audience will control the stage part of the audience, telling them what to do. Maybe there will be two acts and they will switch. I’m interested in keeping it quite open, but that can be overwhelming – we’re talking about certain frames, so far we have buttons. So far it probably is one person controlling one person, but it would be super cool if it could be one person controlling more people, like four people.
Nea Landin and Carina Ahlskog were chatting with Pasi Pirttiaho
This residency was made possible with a grant from Svenska Kulturfonden. Our aim is to develop a programme aimed specifically at providing opportunities to support the Swedish-speaking artists of Finland.
