UNK 85, 1985When, for some reason, the picture in the catalogue had gone missing in the printing process, I tore out my blank page from the entire edition. Only the name remained, when the empty page had disappeared. The picture had depicted me as a gymnosophist.
Application Forms, 1980Application forms for the Royal Institute of Art, 1980, carved into slabs of wood
Dummies, 1999Plain, white-painted wooden boards were given the same size as many well-loved paintings from the National Museum and Modern Museum in Stockholm. In order for the sculptures to weigh the same as the paintings on which they were modelled, symmetrical holes were drilled into them. At last, the paintings were freed from their conventions of being right or wrong way up, front or back, up or down or this and that and from being something just to look at and noli me tangere. Instead, they were transformed into something to touch, hold and feel, body to body.
Untitled, 2000The candle dreams of burning bright in the shadow of the wood.
Head, 2011Tears stay hooked into the eyes of the face.
Object, 1989The basket answers back what the viewer has said, but only louder
The Enigma of Gutenberg, 2000The respective weights of the pen and eraser cancel each other out.
Witness, 2004Sucked to his being.
Ear, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
Nose, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
The Fancy, 1998On one side words are weighed, whilst the other side weighs their meaning.
Varberg Art Hall, 2010In the large, almost symmetrical hall, I arranged an exhibition that was almost reversed as in a mirror – to the right of the cross-eyed doll in the entrance there was almost the same clutter of similar things in the same places as had already been seen to the left of the doll, though almost totally in reverse. In the insignificant differences was located the pole of uniqueness and identity.
Object, 1984An immobile mobile, that remorselessly spits out the coin inserted to get it going.
Head, 2004The mouth is a PVC lustre terminal with clipped wires, and the eyes are nailed hooks, one of which has been weighed down by teardrops.
Untitled, 2002The origin of the world (after Courbet).
Untitled, 1985The stick carries a secret that is not divulged even when it is exposed.
Mother and Child, 1997The globe encompasses the jagged shards of shattered motherlands.
Beholder, 2013
Night Fisher series, 2005From flowers, resting in the glass hives of their dreams, are hanging dead, naked weights of sleep.
Untitled, 1988A picture shelters in the shell of its own image.
Untitled, 2000With concealed sound (after Duchamp)
Korrespondenser/Korrespondenzen/Correspondences, 1990On a number of tape recorders with endless loops, one for each artist (and also for each curator), I mention the names of all participants of a group exhibition in Berlin and divulge in Swedish and German what I know about them and their work – which wasn’t much, if anything, nor could I speak any German.
Object, 1981In a corner of the gallery stood a cup of swirling coffee. Time had stopped, but the coffee carried on regardless.
Object, 1990The focus just vanished
Rotating Feather, 2011When the handle is slowly turned, the feather excitingly strokes the circle’s uncaressed circumference.
Object, 1988Blown-up out of all proportions.
The Rauma Biennial, 1994As text in the catalogue, I chose the worst reviews I had ever received.
Karlstad University, Department of Economics, Building No 11, 2000The brand new furniture everywhere in the Department of Economics was replaced by antiquities, to be used in due accordance with the principles of value theory. There was an increase in the janitor’s work as he had the extra job of having to wind up the grandfather clock when the old electric clock vanished.
Object, 1987…….she is coming
Source I-III (Rotating mirror), 2007The mirrors rotate silently and inconspicuously. When the rotation is reversed, the effect isn’t.
Mother, Father, Child, 1984As the disc calmly rotates, a mouth and eyes open and shut. Each time a new face appears, but the previous one soon shows up again.
Sculpture 86, exhibition view from Kulturhuset, Stockholm, 1986I replaced a window at the Culture House with a door, through which I left for good, after instructing the visitors to the preview of the group exhibition to keep out of my empty room, which lay within. My transparent signature was on the door, and outside was a step for those who wanted to follow after me.
Untitled, 1991Two inner-city buses were equipped with motion sensors, which constantly triggered a powerful sound system. In the one a loudspeaker on the ceiling, blasted out “DAAAARLING”, whilst in the other, at odd places along the route, it bleated “BAAAAA”.
Untitled, 1989In a gallery room a slide projector droned without showing any pictures. But if a stick, which was hanging nearby, was waved in front of it, a kind of projection surface appeared in mid-air with the text YOU SEE.
Rotating Light Bulbs, 2011A couple of spent light bulbs rock back and forth on a gently rotating incline. They collide constantly with each other in ever-varying places. No position can offer any peace.
Object, 1987He is waiting….
All is forgiven, 1992My contribution to the Wanås exhibition was everything I wasn’t using in my studio at that time – all my material and signed works left in storage. All that remained towards autumn in the withering grass were a few bits of plastic vomit from one of my looted works. All that I had left in my studio was the worktable and my tools.
Untitled, 1990To a series of mobiles without moving parts was added a solitary pedal simply plugged into a wall socket. When you stepped onto the pedal, you could feel your heartbeat in your foot and you then became the one animated.
Untitled, 1999Two globes peruse books about themselves.
Installations views, Stockholm Art Fair, 1992I sawed a hole in the gallery wall and donated the content to a charity. The empty hole I kept for myself.
Time, 2015Watches clocking clock
Expressen 7 August 1994, 1994When I was offered a full page in the arts section of a newspaper, I submitted an advert to swap my apartment.
Bodies, 2003I littered a few objects from my studio onto the floors of the gallery. Neither they nor any other objects find more than three resting points, no matter how they are placed. I marked the three arbitrary resting points on each of the objects. But the leaf and piece of paper fluttered about, always landing on three new points, whilst the water level maintained its horizontal pose and the mirror stared rigidly at the ceiling. The bike, though requiring only two points when in motion, also needed no more than three points to lie down on, but it got stolen.
Object, 1991The boy’s dry tears jingle as they trickle down.
Yellow Pages K-Ö, 1992When I was asked for an artistic contribution for the Yellow Pages, I gave them the number to my studio to put on their cover.
Untitled, 1991Jesus awakens.
Life and Death, 2004One bowl contains a shattered mirror, whilst in the other there is a whole mirror – both weigh the same.
Untitled, 2002Time can face in any direction.
Poetry in Matter, 2004Real twigs are reduced to logs.
Untitled, Royal Institute of Art graduate exhibition, 1985I wrote my name on the floor inside the entrance to the rooms and covered it with a large square of transparent, extremely sticky double-sided tape. When the doors opened, the visitors got stuck and fell over each other. By the end of the exhibition, the tape was completely covered with dirt – the stickiness and my name had vanished, and so had I.
Venus, 1981The whisk is gently massaged and up swells wave upon wave of freshly frothing foam.
Mouth, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
The Sydney Biennial, 1992The theme of the Sydney biennial was “the boundary rider” – the one who patrolled the cattle fences to repair and maintain the borderland between nature and culture. I went on patrol outside the walls of the building, mounted the windowsills and smashed the panes of glass with a sledgehammer so that the light and noise could flood into the darkness inside.
Object, 1985A figure surrounded by an inverted speech bubble lets the entire world speak.
Panorama, 1999When the Central Museum in Utrecht invited me to a group exhibition, it wanted all the works to be visible only from the Cathedral Tower (Domtoren) in the centre of the city, which also happened to be the highest point in Holland. From there, in the distance, the museum could be seen in front of a screen of trees. My proposal was to dress the museum up in a camouflage net so that my contribution would not be visible from the tower. In the exhibition catalogue, my proposal was graciously presented as having been successfully carried out, camouflaging the very fact that it hadn’t.
Daydreamer, 2007Dreams stream from the basket.
Sculpture I-IV, 1991I made a few prototypes of some useful sculptures that could easily be copied by anyone. But they remained half-finished as sculptures so long as the light bulbs were shining – and only when every one of the bulbs had died, could they enter into their eternal state as real, living sculptures.
Dan and Wolgers, 1993I bought a chain so long that its weight coincided with its breaking-point. I separated all the links from each other by severing every other link. I called the pile with the severed links “Dan” and the pile with the links intact “Wolgers”.
Object, 1991To find out who could (or not) distinguish between my key-work and me, I sold 10 copies of my car key.
A Battery Run Flat by a Battery Tester, 1995A battery run flat by a battery tester.
Wet Cheeks, 2004He ties his tears into a neat bow-tie.
SOB, 1989Letters recede in mute disarray into the gloom of the box, dripping down like tears now and then, here and there. Sometimes they all draw a deep breath together and let out a blaring SOB.
Untitled, 1993By pressing a button, you could record something on a tape recorder with an endless tape, which perpetually repeated the sound after half a minute unless someone else recorded over it before then. Since there were two tape recorders, they could sometimes hear and record one another.
Object, 1985When the gallery door was opened, an electrical circuit was switched on, and with a roar an old clothes storage bag was fully inflated by two reversed vacuum cleaners inside it, blowing the visitor back through the door.
Untitled, 2002...the widow sheds her anchors of tears
Language, 2015Glass sphere charged with water from flooded glass
Password of the Day, 2004These three words: THIS IS ART, can be shouted from anywhere since the tail of the speech bubble (a thin chain) clinks as it swings to and fro when handled.
Drawing, 1994Drawing from an unfinished series made by customers in stationery shops trying out pens.
Untitled, 1991If you were my height and stood on a certain spot between two gallery rooms, you could see yourself in several hundred mirrors in both rooms at exactly the same time. Otherwise, it was totally impossible.
Ahem, 2004The exhibition consisted of paraphrases of my own belongings. The last one showed pictures of all the paraphrases, including a picture of itself, like a signature in the bottom right-hand corner. Ahem is the headword for the sound that is spluttered when clearing one’s throat – perhaps to catch attention.
Untitled, 1992With each additional light and with each new option, it becomes all the more difficult to turn the light on, until it is finally quite obvious how hopeless it is to even try. There is a cord with a hundred switches and it won’t even fit into the picture.
Ear Missing and Ugly Box, 1993The toyshop’s assistants’ laconic notes, pinned on hundreds of damaged, cut-price toys, were put on display and recycled with quite another valuation. For instance, a dog’s ear had a sale price-tag, saying “ear missing”, whilst another said “ugly box” for an undamaged lorry in its totally smashed packaging.
Box, 1980I emptied my toolbox and screwed a toggle switch onto its outside which was connected to a motor inside. When the lever was pressed, the lid opened and a peg poked out, pressing back the lever so that the lid shut with a bang.
Source (Dice Cloud), 2007A cloud of imagineables.
Sturehof, 2010A large number of banknotes, coins and spent light bulbs were mounted on signed bases and placed on a shelf in the restaurant to be set out on the tables together with the glasses, china and cutlery. One by one, they were stolen by guests – and by the end of the exhibition only a few objects remained. The only items of stable and long-lasting value (zero) were the spent light bulbs. This was in the end the value of all the works, as they gradually disappeared.
Object, 1989When a pedal is stepped on, a loud voice cries out “WELL DONE!”
End of Public Road I-V, 1995Five individual but identical road signs at various dead ends. They are framed by the views they obscure.
To be looked at, from a distance, with eyes crossed, 1995If you try to look into my eyes, I will appear three-dimensionally in between the two faces of me, since my eyes are crossed.
Rififi, 1991After I had become fed up with the postmodern art debate on the death of the subject, I commissioned an exhibition in blanco from an advertising agency called Rififi. An hour after it opened, I turned up to sign and put prices on the strange objects I found there.
Untitled, 1984In silence, behind plastic sheeting, there was an intricate mechanism, which after sudden, rumbling noises now and then let out a tremendous fart in the middle of the room. It was aided by two wall-mounted devices, which constantly let off short, farting noises.
Urethra, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
Object, 1982The only moving part of this mobile is the vanishing wisp of smoke that curls silently out of an invisible opening, once all hope is lost of ever getting anything for the coin inserted into the slot a while ago. The silence is broken by the clatter of the coin as it drops onto the bottom of the box.
The Gates of Paradise Closed I-XIII, 2011Orbs and circles orbit around each other in the dark recesses of mirrors.
Text, 2015From a series of concealed books
Drawing, 1994Drawing from an unfinished series made by customers in stationery shops trying out pens.
Object, 1977Wooden ice pop
The Verdict, 1993After being taken to court for what I did with the benches from the exhibition at Liljevalchs, I awaited the verdict. One morning I read about it in the newspaper and at lunch I received a letter, which I assumed was the court sentence. The same day I signed and sold the envelope unopened so that I could pay the fine and even cover the costs of my next exhibition.
Untitled, 1987Sucked into the vortex of my own fingerprint.
Immobile I-V, 2010Versions of sealed contraptions from the 1980’s were made in fabric, opened up and then cast in bronze. Their interior driving mechanisms had just disintegrated into small knots of waste matter from the production process.
Object, 1990A rocker switch was mounted on a box. When it was pressed one way, a voice inside the box said “Dan”, and when pressed the other way, it said “Wolgers”. But you could never get the two names in one seamless sequence.
Untitled I-II, 2010One work costs more than the other (vodka and water).
Object, 1989I turn away, no matter how you try and catch my eye.
Object, 1982To create a mobile without moving parts, I put a small, battery-operated car into a black-painted globe. There, in the darkness, it believed it was speeding along an endless road, and therefore never bothered stopping. Then, several similar globes were placed on the floor and as they moved randomly around, they became unfettered parts of a larger, more irrational mobile.
Untitled, 1994You can hear what you are writing.
Mirror Orb, 2011From one angle, the orb is in one space, and from another in another.
Vagina, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
Torso (Self-Portrait), 2008A gaze is born.
D and G, 2017Concealed mirrors from the series A-O
Installation view, Stockholm Art Fair, 1992The Friends of the Modern Museum’s stand at the Art Fair turned out to have just enough space for my largest mobile, my car, which had space for me as well.
Contrapuntal Self-Portrait, 2002I swam around an island with two cameras mounted on a broomstick and photographed it stereoscopically, over, under and through the water’s surface. In the exhibition, angled mirrors and photos on sticks were used to convey a three-dimensional image of the swell of water, hovering like a drop in space but also surrounded by the walls of the room. Dimensions were set in motion, floated, surged – and the last thing that could be heard before darkness fell over me was one word of bubbles from the bottom.
Object, 1983Small black engines pull thin ribbons of paper from reels which gradually run out, and eventually become empty; all the motors ran at random speeds, so some reels ran out after a few hours, while others still had all the time in the world, even after three months, when someone unplugged the lead that ran from the studio, through the snow, to the exhibition in the run-down pavilion in the garden of the Modern Museum.
Zen, 2007A rotating wall socket with a self-closing lid.
Object, 1984For the series of mobiles without moving parts, I made a completely sealed box with a coin slot. The coin inserted became electrified and gave an electric shock to the person who didn’t have time to let go, thus turning the person into the piece’s moving part. However, after being knocked down by an angry visitor, who had tried the device, I decided to pull it apart.
500 A4 & 500 Punched A4, 2001Without….. ….and with direction.
Liljevalchs, 1992Artists are the only ones who work conscientiously without any or little pay for public art exhibitions. For a change, before the group exhibition Ecce Homo I took a couple of benches from the art gallery and put them up for auction. My part of the gallery remained completely empty except for a sign with my name (which was then stolen). In recent years, this sad state of affairs has been somewhat rectified, as now it is more common that artists are financially compensated by state and local authorities, on whose works the entire chain of bureaucrats now relies.
Corpus Christi, 2014(un)defined space
Trio, 1983The sum is smaller than the whole.
Anus, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
Gabriel and Mary, 2000Several antique dealers gave me discarded antiquities, among which I thought I could perceive fifteen scenes from the live of Christ. Here is the first scene of Gabriel with his wing round Mary, about to point out her dramatic future to her. The base of the Mary vase is cracked.
Object, 1992Two dimensions enshrine the third.
Inside God, 2006At the apex of seven arches in Stockholm Cathedral, I managed to knock a hole through which I lowered sewing thread from each to a level just beyond the reach of its visitors.
Untitled, 2002As the ship sinks on the horizon of the water level…..
Dan and Wolgers, 2017
Object, 1987The earth revolves and swings around in a resonating universe.
Chiasmus, 2003Pictures of a flying fish, a monitor, a mosque, a woman and a printing press were processed and reversed so that their two- and three-dimensional features were fragmented and intertwined. The dimensions were forced to embrace one another in newly-formed multi-dimensional spaces. Within and without, in front and behind, flat and plastic, all took shape as seamlessly as when reading a text. As a base for the parts of this series I used an END OF PUBLIC ROAD sign.
Night Fisher, 2005A boy carries his dreaming head in a basket on his back.
Eye, 2009The seven orifices of the body rattle into life when the mechanisms are wound up by hand.
The Meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, 2000On the back of a broken old chair, the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth appeared, as they with their happy smiles of crooked nails and their round tummies rejoice together in the children to whom they are soon to give birth. John is to become a preacher in the wilderness and the one who will baptise Jesus, and perhaps that is why he kicked so eagerly inside the womb when he heard Mary’s voice for the first time. Hovering there between them is God with his long beard and eavesdropping. This is where it all began, in the second scene.
Untitled, 1998When Stockholm was chosen as one of the European Capitals of Culture, its billboards were to be brought to life with art. I covered mine in black and repositioned the spotlights so that they lit up the space between the back of the billboards and the rock face behind.