Isle
I once suffered from wanderlust - a longing for the experience of extraordinary and spectacular landscapes: Tierra del Fuego, Atacama, Namibia, the Grand Canyon, Ayers Rock and the Himalayas. I’m not suffering anymore. But as an exception I’m still drawn to the extraordinary and spectacular landscapes of Iceland where I go every now and then. Over time I have become more and more concerned with what’s hidden behind the spectacle. What's hidden behind the geysers, the waterfalls, the glaciers, the volcanoes - the foreground of the images that tourists try to reproduce to such an extent that the landscape is reduced to a cliché. The landscape is more three-dimensional and ambiguous than the distanced gaze of the tourist reveals. For my part, I have never experienced a place where the contrasts between nature and culture are more striking. In the Danish landscape, this distinction can be difficult and sometimes even meaningless. So what do I see, if I allow the foreground to blur? And what can I hear, if I don't let myself be distracted by the spectacle? And am I at the end of the day capable of being anything but a tourist?
