My mother passed away recently and my family had to do all the things you have to do when a loved one dies - like choosing a symbol for the public announcement of my mothers death. There was 61 pages of images to choose from! As an art historian I just had to go through the whole material, especially since I already have an unnatural fascination of images chosen for these kinds of announcements. It can be quite curious and mysterious at times, but it is also revealing of our society's understanding of death and grief. 

Traditionally only the latin cross were used like in this example taken from http://www.rsob.se/dodsannonser_aspliden_.html  But the Church and Christianity is not as hegemonic in Swedish rituals as before, and I guess people wants to remember family members and friends in a more personal way. You can use symbols reflecting interest, hobbies, professions and relations. Flowers, especially roses, are popular (my mother eventually got a red rose), then there are hearts, doves, tools, vehicles, pets, instruments, crests from your favourite teams, and symbols from other religions. At first I thought that masons were especially proud of their profession until I realised that the trowel was a sign of the Freemasons. Another favourite tool seems to be the pipe wrench - can someone explain that?

Finally there are the combinations, like the cross and cat at the top. Often they are logical in a symbolic reading like a dove and a cross, or the crown of thorns together with the cross. But cat and cross? Perhaps the deceased  was a devout cat lover and Christian, or maybe the family could not agree due to a generation gap? I am not sure what symbol I would like to go with my funeral announcement, maybe a heart of some kind.  How would you like to be remembered?

I promised a modern approach to my humble contributions to Black History Month, and here it is:

In April 2012 the above photo caused an uproar in Sweden. The event took place at Moderna Museet in Stockholm when invited artists made cakes to celebrate both World Art Day and the 75th anniversary of Konstnärernas Riksorganisation (KRO). It shows how then Swedish Minister of Culture, Lena Adelsohn Liljeroth, feeds the artist Makode Linde a piece of his Painful Cake.

Linde designed his cake as an image of a black woman and the cream and other stuffing inside the cake was coloured red. It looks like a black version of the pre-historic Willendorf woman, but he also used a very stereotype image of black people from early 20th century popular culture. This is a theme in a large portion of his work that he calls "Afromantics" (see a few examples below).  Finally he also appeared inside the head of the woman, screaming every time someone cut a piece from the cake. The cake was to be understood as a critical commentary to female circumcision still practised in various parts of the world, including some African countries.

The art of Makode Linde have been called racist because of his use of "black face" and "golliwog" aesthetics, while he claims he wants to mirror contemporary racist discourses by using its most stereotype visual representation. Linde is himself black, and this in itself is of course no guarantee for non-racist activism, but I think the reactions his art is causing is an indication that what he is trying to do is working. If you are met with racism on a daily basis I do understand why you might get offended by Linde's work, but I rather understand his intentions as a critique directed towards a white society blind to the on-going discrimination. Still diminishing words and visual representations of people of colour are used in media, commercials and everyday language - but sometimes we are just too ignorant to notice.

Back to the photo of the performance of Painful Cake. It is horrible in so many ways! Look at the situation. All white people smiling, and taking photos, while the Minister of Culture feeds Linde cake. In this photo the stereotype black woman really becomes a sign of racism, as all its intentions is reduced to fun and games in the art world. But still this doesn't make Makode Linde a racist artist, rather its the perspective of the representation of the event that is questionable.

Since February is "Black History Month" in some parts of the world, why not take a quick look at one example of "black history" in Swedish art. 

Sweden had some colonies in the eighteenth century for shorter periods in an attempt to compete economically with greater nations, but this was not particularly successful and therefor largely forgotten about... But there are other traces of European colonialism in Swedish art history besides the love of everything Oriental and exotic as was fashionable at the time. Above you find a portrait of a man called Gustav Badin made by Gustav Lundberg in 1775. Badin, or Couchi as was his first/real name, was very young when he came to Sweden as a gift to the queen Lovisa Ulrika in the mid-eighteenth century. That means he was a slave, but with time his position in the royal court expanded. As an adult while he serving first under the queen and later princess Sofia Albertina, he was also acting in various theatrical events and privately he was devoted book collector. He was not the only black man of African origin in Sweden at the time, but due to his connections with the royal family he is the most famous.

Lundberg's portrait is a curious mix. He depicts Badin both as a nobleman, dressed in fine fabrics and decorated with an Order, and as some sort of wild man with feathers and exotic bling. There is a hint of the tricolour in Badin's costume, perhaps a reference to that he was both reading and writing in French. He is playing chess, but as he is portrayed smiling and looking like trouble, as his given French name Badin is suggesting, perhaps we should think he is playing with the chess pieces? Even if he gained some respect in higher society, he was also always the Other.

Next weeks post will be on a more contemporary aspect on the black history- theme... 

During Christmas I read two novels each based on the life of artists with a shared experience of spending most of their lives in metal institutions. They both also aimed at becoming excellent sculptors and through popular narrative they were also considered too vital and wild for a woman of their era. Camille Claudel (1864-1943) is quite well known today for her work and not just for her relationship with Auguste Rodin. She did enjoy some success and reputation before her illness stopped her creativity. Above you can see her at work in her studio. Ester Henning (1887-1985) is known in Sweden for her paintings done during her close to 70 years in hospital. She didn't have the chance to develop fully as an artist before she was sent to hospital for the first time, but eventually her artistic creativity was seen as a way of therapy. She could even have some of her works exhibited in galleries. Below you can ses her undated painting Hospitalet. 

Michèle Desbordes' La robe bleue [The blue dress] from 2004 focuses on Claudel's later life when she is living in an mental institution not able to create anything. She is mostly described as sitting on a chair in the garden waiting for visits from her brother. Anna Jörgensdotter's Drömmen om Ester [The dream of Ester], published last year, covers most of Hennings life and her artistic developments, both before and after she was hospitalised. The interesting thing about the novels was their different point of perspective in telling their stories. While Desbordes is talking about Claudel mostly through the gaze of others, Jörgensdotter tries to give Henning a voice to make us understand her. Even if she is described by others, she is allowed to react. Of course, Claudel's and Henning's lives were different in many ways - most of all in their opportunities to make art while being more or less imprisoned - but the novels are also fictions based on two different ideas on "mad women". Claudel in La robe bleue is almost an oddity when Henning in Drömmen om Ester is being treated with more sympathy and empathy. I guess you have figured out which book I recommend you to read...

Like so many others I was chocked and saddened by the death of David Bowie. How can he be gone? He's been around like forever... I even blame him, or I should say thank him, for making me an art historian. Among my first childhood memories is when my older brother got Aladdin Sane as a birthday present - and I was totally mesmerised by the album cover. That pale and yet colourful character that leaked plastic! 

More album covers of Bowie's were equally visually intriguing; Diamond Dogs, Pin Ups and there was one with cartoons on it... I sat and watched them carefully over and over again, but was not allowed to listen to them. And my teenaged brother didn't think it was cool to hang around with his baby sister so I hardly ever heard them. The only song I loved by Bowie as a kid was "Laughing gnome", and even if it still warms my heart it isn't really worth remembering. It was only later, when Scary Monsters was released, I got to know more of his music.

So, thank you David Bowie for my first strong visual experiences - and the music! And my brother should of course have some credit for introducing me to Bowie.

Last week to the first snow covered the latest public art work at Umeå university most beautifully. This post will focus on Mandana Moghaddan's Vinden bär oss med sig [The wind carry us with it] inaugurated in early November. 

Is it a sculpture or an installation? Well, it is a furnished room without walls, all made of concrete. It reminds of a student's dorm, but it could be just any room with a desk, a chair and an unmade bed. A hotel room, a single room flat, or a refugee accommodation. Occasionally one can hear recorded phone calls. People speaking in different languages of everyday matters or sending their love to family and friends. 

Mandana Moghaddam (http://mandana-moghaddam.com) have made many sculptural installations, the most famous is a well where people in two different places can talk with each other. For Umeå she was also thinking of communication - more specifically - our need to be in touch with our home. It might be that you left for studies and long for some kind words when you are not getting the results you hoped for, or want to celebrate great grades or receiving grants. Or, like too many people right now,  you are forced to leave home for violent, threatening, catastrophic reasons. Moghaddam did this journey herself, and says she has lived in, and left, many rooms like this one. No matter where she was (or still is) the telephone was the life line to the people dear to her. So necessary when wanting to be a part of their lives and make sure everybody are ok.

Another important aspect of this art work is accessibility. We are supposed to enter this room, listen to the voices speaking, and to sit down by the desk where the light is always shining. Today this creature was placed in the room. Hopefully a sign of how quickly people at campus have accepted and started to examine its potential.

Back from my long summer vacation during which I saw some great exhibitions, but lets start where I finished in June: Havremagasinet in Boden.

Their main event was Entry prohibited to foreigners - a title that caused some discussions among visitors as it was read as a political statement regarding the migrant situation in Europe. To some extent the exhibitions was about the current alarming developments on who is allowed to enter Europe and other more prosperous areas of the world, but it also explored other areas of colonialism and (ethnic) injustice.

The exhibition that I will highlight here, however, was the room dedicated to Eva Zettervall. I have been a fan for more than 20 years, so I guess it was inevitable that her work would get a firm grip on me. The above painting, Tatuerade kvinnor av träd och blod där gryningsljuset tränger sig fram [Tattoed women of trees and blood where the morning light breaks through], is just one example of Zettervall's huge paintings. The vibrant and flooding red colour is vital for almost all of the paintings, as is the female characters standing, fighting, protesting, caressing or taking refuge from violence.  She calls the exhibition Röda rummet [The Red room] and it has a sibling in another summer exhibition of hers, Julie och Jean [Julie and Jean], in Strömstad. Both are connected to the author August Strindberg (1949-1912), but Zetttervall uses his critique of the bourgeoisie society of the late 19th century in her own way. Her inspiration to political change comes from the flux of feminist movements active today, Röda rummet is dedicated to the activities of the Pussy Riot in Russia and Femen in Ukraine. Their activism is made present in images of protest as well as the ones of the everyday private life. See more of her own words from Havremagasinets homepage:http://english.havremagasinet.se/

Eva Zettervall is not the only feminist artist that has been inspired by the writings of Strindberg, even though he is usually blamed for being misogynist. Also Siri Derkert (1888-1973), who gave him credit for liberating women from the bourgeoise cage, used his works for inspiration. She also made a few portraits of him, one is part of her public work Kvinnopelaren [The female pillar], 1958, at one of the platforms of the Central Station of the Stockholm Underground. The image below is borrowed from Instagram - and you can see part of Derkert's art work in this short film on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwXNTKlGB1w

It is quite clear that misogynist are not safe from feminists!