20' of Harmony - 2018 - Trailer

Installation created during the Fresh Winds Art Biennale in Gardur Iceland 2017-2018

Project - 20' of Harmony

"All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together," Jack Kerouac.

Japan and Iceland two women in two separated islands connected by a dream. Two different realities, hopes, fears and daily struggles meet and melt through a dream.
Like the separate islands they inhabit, they find themselves in a metaphysical space, to finish off their souls dancing at the same pace until their awakening.

The video was recorded during my residency in Iceland during the Fresh Winds Festival in 2018 where I collaborated with 4 international artists in response to one of my installations. Two performance artist, Kana Nakamura and Arna Valsdóttir, a poem from Hrafn Hardarson and sound from Simon Whetham.

Installation during the Fresh Winds Art Biennale in Gardur Iceland 2017-2018

Photos from the collaborations during the Fresh Winds Art Biennale in Gardur Iceland 2017-2018

performance

Kana Nakamura

Arna Valsdóttir

poem

Hrafn Hardarson

 

sound

Simon Whetham

poem from

Hrafn Hardarson

Persistent the way sways

and my track to you

gets longer and longer

however I hurry my speed

and the sky above acts

totally apathetic

and the clouds, the clouds

hardly move at all

while the way under them hums

under fastturning

wheels

hardturning tyres

while the landscape plays

illusions on a kaleidoscope

and flies, flies by

but still

my longing feels

that we hardly move at all

 

poem from

Hrafn Hardarson

Þrálátt vindur vegurinn

upp á sig

og leið mín til þín

lengist og lengist

hvernig sem ég hraða för

og himinninn yfir lætur sér

fátt um finnast

og skýin – skýin

hreyfast varla

meðan vegurinn undir hummar

undir hraðsnúnum

hjólbörðum

harðsnúnum dekkjum

meðan landslagið leikur

sjónhverfingar á hviksjá

og þýtur þýtur hjá

en samt

þykir þrá minni

við varla færast úr stað

 

The Arna song is based on a poem from Jónas Hallgrímsson

link font 

Journey's End

 

The star of love

over Steeple Rock

is cloaked in clouds of night.

It laughed, once, from heaven

on the lad grieving

deep in the dark valley.

 

I know where all hope —

where my whole world —

flames with the fire of God.

I throw off the chains

of thought, I fling

myself into your soul.

 

I sink myself,

see into your being,

live your very life;

each gracious moment

that God loves you

blooms in my burning heart.

 

Alone together

we gathered flowers

high on the heath at dawn.

I wove you wreaths,

reverently laying

loving gifts in your lap.

 

You heaped my forehead

with fragrant rings

of bright blue flowers,

one, then another;

you nodded and smiled

and swiftly snatched them away.

 

We laughed in the highlands

while heaven grew clear,

bright at the mountain brim.

Not a single joy

seemed to exist

apart from living our life.1

 

The wise flower-elves

wept in the hollows,

they knew we would need to part.

We thought it was drops

of dew, and kissed

cold tears from the crossgrass.

 

I held you on horseback

in the hurtling stream

and felt with fond assurance

I could lift and carry

so light a flower

overall the leagues of life.

 

Beside the bank

of Boar River

I carefully combed your hair;

eye stars flash,

flower lips smile,

cheeks turn ruby red.

 

He is far from your fair

friendship, the lad

deep in the dark valley.

The star of love

over Steeple Rock

is burning back of clouds.

 

The heavens part

the high planets,

blade parts back and edge;

not even

eternity can part

souls that are sealed in love

Ferðalok

 

Ástarstjörnu

yfir Hraundranga

skýla næturský;

hló hún á himni,

hryggur þráir

sveinn í djúpum dali.

 

Veit ég hvar von öll

og veröld mín

glædd er guðs loga.

Hlekki brýt ég hugar,

og heilum mér

fleygi faðm þinn í.

 

Sökkvi ég mér og sé ég

í sálu þér

og lífi þínu lifi;

andartak sérhvert,

sem ann þér guð,

finn ég í heitu hjarta.

 

Tíndum við á fjalli,

tvö vorum saman,

blóm í hárri hlíð;

knýtti ég kerfi

og í kjöltu þér

lagði ljúfar gjafir.

 

Hlóðstu mér að höfði

hringum ilmandi

bjartra blágrasa,

einn af öðrum,

og að öllu dáðist,

og greipst þá aftur af.

 

Hlógum við á heiði,

himinn glaðnaði

fagur á fjallabrún;

alls yndi

þótti mér ekki vera

utan voru lífi lifa.2

 

Grétu þá í lautu

góðir blómálfar,

skilnað okkarn skildu;

dögg það við hugðum,

og dropa kalda

kysstum úr krossgrasi.

 

Hélt ég þér á hesti

í hörðum straumi,

og fann til fullnustu,

blómknapp þann gæti

ég borið og varið

öll yfir æviskeið.

 

Greiddi ég þér lokka

við Galtará

vel og vandlega;

brosa blómvarir,

blika sjónstjörnur,

roðnar heitur hlýr.

 

Fjær er nú fagri

fylgd þinni

sveinn í djúpum dali;

ástarstjarna

yfir Hraundranga

skín á bak við ský.

 

Háa skilur hnetti

himingeimur,

blað skilur bakka og egg;

en anda, sem unnast,

fær aldregi

eilífð að skilið

Carlos Sebastiá© *2019*, All rights reserved.