(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
Selja stands succulent and soft. The branches are heavy and watery, and hang over county road 57. The tarmac is light and tired. Førde – Fjaler is being raised a lot. It's a color journey. The valley sides are as measured by a pointilist, one that only has green colors on the palette. Here are a thousand editions of green. The diversity of plant varieties is like the demographic: Behind us lies Förde with 60 nationalities represented in the people. Fjals have several more. To drive to Dale, Sunnfjord, is to drive to a world center. The road this is narrow. He has bus pockets. But there are no buses here. It's Arild like a cowboy. He stops in a bus pocket. One car in the opposite lane. We wait until he passes. A large stone at the ditch. The stone has mileage raised. Nokon has traveled here before. For a long time. People have traveled here because they had to. Others have left to go, and see. The ridge stands in front of the ridge. Here he is bright, almost yellow. There he is dyed like spruce. Green, green blue, turquoise, blue, almost gray, white. The birches are small in Scotland. Auto-protected old stones. Arild beckons to him as he drives past. So friendly, so patient. It's like coming to another country. It's as if we're going to round the corner and get to the pub, to the pub with but by og fish and chips. Or a cobblestone pavement with a patio with checkered tablecloths. Carafels with the house's red wine. But no, not a human on a tuna at a small farm. Not a ramp sitting on the milk crates. The cultivated nature of this natural landscape is the cultivation in the fields, fenced around cattle.
I travel to see. "I" can be Paolo on his way from Tuscany via Oslo and Bringeland. I can be on my way to an artist's stay at the Nordic Art Center Dalsåsen. I can put my neoclassical art project on my boat on the Dalsfjord, and change direction as an artist. I can be Paolo who delves into the forest in Dalsåsen, and thematizes and practices nature mythology. I can be Andreas Wilder on the road from Tokyo via Bringeland, also on my way to a residence stay on Dalsåsen. A Japanese who develops a Zen sculpture practice. I can be Mette Karlsvik, also on my way to an artist residence. Arild, who works for Fjaler Municipality, could be Skuli-Björn. He could be the administrator of the Gunnar Gunnarsson Institute's Skiduklaustur in Fljotsdalen. I was there and have been at a residence at Korpulfstadir, Mosfellsbær, Obrestad Lighthouse in Rogaland, in Tabor, Czech Republic. I have taken trains and flown. Have taken the local buses until they stop. I have been picked up by administrators, taxi, haika or gone. Becoming an artist resident is a study in travel logistics. There is also a study in the local community as a "borrower" for a month or three. It is an exercise in finding out, in getting to know new cultures and ways. It trains up patience and tolerance. And to top it all off, one changes artistically. Maybe it does in the same way as other artists. We exchange ideas and thoughts, experiences and knowledge.
Look to Dale, for a good integration!
Danning Reisa is older than the Odyssey. "The classic journey of creation can be the historical backdrop for the modern-day drug addicts," says Arild. He runs the Nordic Arts Center Dalsåsen. He believes in the residency model. But he does not know if there is a particular type of artist that is suitable for residence. The art narcotics were quite different. They could be friends. Or friends who attracted friends of friends. They were voluntary, informal; without demands, and more and less productive artist communities. In common, modern residences and the classic colonies have that they are often in scenic surroundings, that they offer plenty of space for thought, work and piping, and are rural. From Paris, the artists came to Barbisson. From London to St. Ives, from Oslo and Copenhagen to Skagen, and from Berlin, Munich and Dresden to Fleskum. Rousseau and Mielle are among the more well-known colonial artists. But otherwise, no signatory has so many great artist names to refer to. For the colony was not for everyone. Perhaps the colony attracted the special social artists. Not necessarily the most productive, dedicated, brilliant. Or perhaps they were brilliant in the most ingenious way: the colony bordered on withdrawal and edification. A meeting test for meals and conversation. Many were in education and were young. Dei studied in the cities and came to the colony for "vacation". They did not have their workshops and work in progress there. But then came the technology. The test tube was invented. It also changes the artist's mobility.
We come to Dale, and stop at the samyrkla layer. I buy Icelandic licorice chocolate, Thai fruit juice, English butter biscuits, and stand in line. The queue is as international as the product range. The Samyrkjelag in Dale can be the best selection of branches in Norway. Here are ingredients for cooking from many countries. The store manager ensures that. Because if someone lacks what they need, they are happy to say. The store manager is constantly expanding the range. And should he still be missing something, it probably is at the local school. Red Cross Nordic United World College has 200 students from 75 countries. Many of them have luggage full of food from home after holidays. Everyone is not equally impressed with the canteen, and about Norwegian food. Strangely? Sure, in the global age we have become good at cooking. Recipes from the whole world have never been so easy to obtain. And Førde and Fjaler are not alone in being international. Most small cities in Norway are international. But still there is something special about Fjaler. From here Ingolfur Arnarsson traveled. He sailed to Iceland, found a bay from which it smelled, and shallow Reykjavik. Sailing Thor Heyerdal in 1995:
Thank God in Fjaler this day, early September. Sunbathing. An Indian summer. Thor Heyerdal sails up the Sognefjord, past Dale, and into the Flekkefjord. Instantly, Queen Noor arrives by helicopter from Jordan. Queen Sonja, Thor and Noor meet in Flekke, Fjaler. A newly built school. The architecture mimics fishing jetties from the Sognefjord. There are small asphalt roads between boarding houses. Freshly planted fruit trees bloom. Chinese cherry, parish mountain apple. Between them, teenagers stroll in colorful folk costumes. Robyn in broad, dark skirt, white linen shirt, and bands in strong colors over her hair and waist. Vietnamese Hoa in tight, short silk dress. Juri in wide trousers, white shirt with wide sleeves, and sneakers. They go to the jetty, to the brewery, and retrieve their white cane there. Big flags, in 75 editions. They stand in a row from the jetty up towards the Haugland Center. Standing rake. Hear the sound of a boat facing the fjord. Heyerdahl's ship passes past Innøya. Just minutes later add the boat to the dock. The queens also come walking then. From the Queen's House at Haugen, to the quay. The choir, just a couple of three weeks old, sings the Norwegian national song, and then the Jordanian. Thor Heyerdal drops his finger on a microphone and holds an unforgettable speech. One about peace and reconciliation through understanding and exchange. About young people who cage, study, sleep and eat, who do sports and creative activities, and who tolerate each other on the cross of cultures, borders, religions.
And at the same time, the residence center is built on Dalsåsen. It is built specifically for residency. It will be the first artist center built for its function. The building is supported by the Nordic Council of Ministers and the Ministry of Culture, and by private sponsors. The first artists are invited separately, and come from Iceland, Lithuania, England and other countries. The artists receive workshops that win architectural competitions. They get busted a stone's throw from the studio. Every morning the artists go to work. They go into rooms with high ceilings. They straighten their backs. They take lunch breaks in layers. They develop as artists. And they change Dale. They have exhibitions and open studios. They will be interviewed from scenes. They are yelling at the local grocer to bring in more items. They become friends with Ingeborg, Torkil, Miriam, Arild and other settlers in the village. They extend the reference bases to permanent settlements in the village. Some of them attach themselves. They build houses themselves, and become true. Ho from Germany, to be judged. She builds houses and rents a workshop in the center. There he starts a small business for himself and another employee. There is one of two digital webs in Norway. What starts as artist mobility becomes labor immigration. And entrepreneurship, not least.
Ibsen had hardly writing as he did without the travels. Sigrid Undset hardly writes Jenny, or Amalie Skram Agnete. Jacob Sande himself, who was well known and respected at Dale, had to leave to write his greatest works. The boy and the neighbor came to Ullern in Oslo. Artist mobility seems to be a good thing for both the traveler and the city he travels to. We seem to be unanimous about it. And according to Swedish researchers, we are probably quite the same about the other type of mobility as well. Several Norwegians seem to think that immigration is good for Norway. Just 12 percent say to the researchers that they are against immigration. 53 percent think it's good. Look to Dale, for a good integration! Or go there. Since the Norwegian Tourist Association was ship in the 1880s, it has been typical Norwegian to travel to see. To go to go. Luckily. At one time, the environment can become unbearable itself up here on the mountain, and we ourselves are driven in flight. I hope that those we come to will welcome us with warmth, shelter, food and friendliness. Just like Reidun does now. Arild's wife is waiting for us in her teacher's town at United World College. She has just said hateful to this year's litters, and offers leftovers after the last meal they had. Vegetables baked in Jamaican dough before deep frying. And what do I want to drink? This Tibetan teen? Reidun asks, and puts out a box of dry moss. Is it really tea? Leaves from the plant Thea sinensis? No then, says Reidun: There are deductions. I speak better as a Norwegian.
