Ride1
Ride1
Text
Lars Bang Larsen
Art direction and graphic design
Ritator
Cover image
Graham Samuels
Typeface
Boutique
Paper
Profi Matt
Print
TMG Sthlm
Edition
600
This publication is a collaboration
between Ride1 and Lars Bohman Gallery.
Ride1 is a cooperation established
in 2004 by the artists Ronny A Hansson,
Jonas Kjellgren and Stig Sjölund.
Copyright
© Ride1, Lars Bohman Gallery
Stockholm 2014
Lars Bohman Gallery
Karlavägen 9
114 24 Stockholm
Tel: +46 8 207807
[email protected]
www.larsbohmangallery.com
ISBN 978-91-981991-0-9
In Scandinavia No One
Can Hear You Scream
Skrik! The loud angst of Edvard Munch was always like a
dream, because in Scandinavia no one can hear you scream.
That’s why it’s a painting, not a play or a poem to be
recited… Or an opera. Søren Kierkegaard, the old Lutheran
fundamentalist, also had screaming artists on call:
What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep
anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed
that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it
sounds like lovely music… And people flock around
the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May
new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be
fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten
us, but the music, that is blissful.
A cliché is a cliché is a cliché, and expectations of artists
are nothing less, nothing more than this. Suffer. Emote.
And if you don’t really suffer, just run with it and make
them believe…
The Søren Kierkegaard quote is from Either-Or (1843),
Adorno and Horkheimer are quoted from their Dialektik
der Aufklärung (1944). There are also veiled quotes from
Paul Virilio’s Art as Far as the Eye Can See (2005)
(It’s such a cliché that it’s going to have to be a footnote
in 8pt): welfare state.
1
At least the Americans recognize that there is a point
beyond reconciliation: “I’m a loser, baby / so why don’t
you kill me,” as the song goes. From the deformed lips
of many a Scandinavian artist the same lines would be,
un-charismatically, “I’m a loser, baby / but I’m yummy
anyway,” or “Oh baby, I’m hurting / Don’t know what I’d
do to myself (and especially to you) / If I wasn’t all right
for money”, and “My life’s a mess / But my other life
is a Volvo-oh.” Let’s put Kierkegaard’s poet on a gutwrenching roller-coaster ride instead, maybe he’ll finally
just scream his head off instead of singing blissfully…
Or better yet, if the ride has a few screws loose we
might see him shoot into space wailing like a banshee
and never hear from him again. They would never tell
you to your face that you’re useless, undesirable and
odious. This isn’t an authoritarian culture, remember…
To top it off, there’s a fatal lack of hysteria. Instead, they
inveigle you into complicity with homeopathic doses of
acceptance that will immunize them against dissent in
the end. It’s the surest way to get taken for a ride. They
have stockpiled tolerance – liquid, solid and pelleted
– in secret bunkers inside Norwegian mountains and
Danish chalk mines. Even in times of zero tolerance it will
last them centuries without needing refills. We have no
end of experience selling it. It’s a global export, like guns
from Bofors… Who said tolerance isn’t a commodity?
…Yeah, we’ve got that blond thing going on. In no area
has the capital reserve been more transparent. We are
idealism. We invented repressive tolerance.
As an everlasting global exception, in Scandinavia there
is no fascism, no machismo and no republicanism. Well,
hey, we just don’t have ‘em. Our soil is pure! Fascism
never existed here other than as a fad – really, a passing
phase of pubescent pimples on the face of an otherwise
genetically inherited democracy. Sexism is something we
got over decades ago, quicker and more successfully than
most – and we are so ready to move on. Republicans =
disaffected subjects who have the misfortune not to be
ruled by Scandinavian royalty. No need to actively deny
the existence of these issues; they just aren’t on the
agenda. The same goes for class. That most touching of
metaphors, the most beautiful ride, klassresa – ‘class
travel’ – is actually a universal deviation from class
awareness, a dissolution of the map of social distinctions.
Now you see them, now you don’t! Nobody here’s stuck in
the shit! Indifference must be maintained!
No other culture has managed to produce silences to
such an extent. So many words wither away here…
Language is just strangely mute. No echoes. No language
for conflict. It isn’t that people are stupid, or that the
mass media here are more flamboyantly anti-intellectual
than in so many other places. But our vocabulary – and
so our critical common sense – have been depleted,
as shot through with disappearances as a party congress
under Joe Stalin. So catch us on the wrong foot when
politeness is exhausted – it can happen sooner than you
think – and we’ll split your skull open like Vikings.
Try offering a Scando revolution: liberty, fraternity and
equality. Well, liberty, the kind that might dawn on us
with full, undomesticated consistency, is (thank our
square-headed God) managed and taken care of by
the…1 If we hadn’t been so well protected behind the
barrier of the welfare state [harps, trumpets, angels
with blue-eyed pigtails], at the very thought of freedom
we would have stammered out, Colonel Kurtz-style,
“The horror! The horror!”
Fraternity is easily translated as social control. Normality is
solidarity. The commonalty is all. There are many lines to toe
here if you don’t want to be seen as a social scab. Brother.
Where class isn’t, never was, and cannot be an issue,
equality becomes a protocol for the creation of a
monoculture. It is so ingrained in us that the social
playing field is already level – so there is no reason
for me to take the difference that you represent into
account. Equal opportunity and free choice all around,
so we are universally the same. So I can speak on your
behalf; I can even freely exploit and oppress you. You
aren’t even going to tell me I’m a bastard, because we’re
two of a kind – one flesh. Why would I do something bad
to my own flesh and blood? Perish the thought of any
difference appearing on our horizon!
So that’s us. Except that we have no need to scream
in our trauma-free context. So at the end of the day
the cartoons are a tenuous comparison. If we’d really
been in the situation of those cartoon characters,
unspeakably painful things would have happened to
us and we’d be as serene and even-keeled as ever.
It’s not only that they don’t hear you screaming… It’s
that we can’t be bothered or don’t know how. In Munch,
remember, it’s actually colour and nature that do the
shrieking, not the little guy in the foreground.
If there’s something American about the feral behaviour
of Tom Cat and Top Cat and other fictional animated cats,
the Scandinavians are the cartoon characters that find
themselves in situations where it’s a matter of life and death
that they don’t scream – if they let out the meekest peep,
they’ll be eaten alive, dynamited by 70,000 sticks of TNT,
buried underneath a ton of bricks, a battleship and a high
rise, steamrolled out of existence! But destiny requires them
to be bashed with a saucepan! That they step on a cactus!
Get their tail feathers burnt! And they need to SCREAM!!
Let it out! Here and now! But they can’t – or they’ll die,
beneath a high rise, a steamroller, in a conflagration etc.
So they silence themselves by any means necessary,
any imaginable, extreme way to pipe down and keep the
scream from erupting – they have to leg it and jump a
continent as they grow twelve arms to hold the scream
back – until their eyes are popping out of their heads and
they have steam coming out of their ears from the need
to scream. And finally they can let go, far away, and go
AAAOU-AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!! into a bank vault that is
immediately snapped shut and dumped in an ocean.
Deleuze and Guattari once wrote about ‘becoming
Scandinavian’. Ha! What they wanted to attribute to
Scandinavia, no doubt, was wild migration and raw
intensity. But what, exactly, would it mean to become
Scandinavian? To turn blond and taciturn? Eat a fly
agaric and pimp your inner Viking? Why bother to
become Scandinavian, something so boring? It must
have looked so exotic from Paris in the early ‘70s that it
bore comparison with becoming Mongolian, and other
displacements of races and continents. It’s hard to
imagine that those two French boozers appreciated the
subtle exoticism of the fine tones of grey produced by
Scando consensus. Whatever it is, you can be sure
that once you’ve become Scandinavian, that’s where
the transformations stop. There is no becoming beyond
the best of all possible worlds…
It may be that we suspect that the reasons for our
existence are not quite adequate, not as profoundly
necessary as elsewhere. A Super-America with a ban on
heterogeneity, where nothing is supposed to happen
and you are not allowed to take anything seriously…
If this state of affairs brings about a certain subdued
restlessness stemming from a nagging suspicion that reality
is somewhere else, there is comfort in the fact that the
rest of the world is a blister on Scandinavia, a colostomy
bag on our blondness, a faint din of misfortune we cannot
begin to comprehend.
your gut is strung out like a vapour trail behind you in
a downpour of hollering, paying bodies. The fairground
ride is a strange thing, poised between catharsis (I did it
and I live to tell) and conditioning (hey, I could get used
to this. This is my routine. Risk is fun!) As Adorno and
Horkheimer once wrote, ‘Fun ist ein Stahlbad’ – fun is a
steel bath. Violence and joy!
Out in the sticks, our unforgiving provinces are flooded
with religion and drugs: for generations everybody in the
boondocks has been in need of a fix. They have turned
their nervous systems into evacuation ducts for a barren
existence. Whether they choose a priest or a pusher to
operate their ride of choice depends on generation and
temperament. In any case it’s hard to tell whether it’s the
pusher or the priest who’s selling the hardest stuff… Chase
your maker or meet the dragon – let’s get high, whatever
gives you the hope and oblivion you need to face meanminded nature and a reality that sits there in a town made
of building blocks and abandoned by the imagination.
It has become impossible to see that Munch painting
now, because it isn’t a painting any more – it’s a T-shirt,
a mouse pad, a billion postcards and an inflatable
figurine (when you let out the air you might hear a faint
whine, though). For years now they’ve been busy with
the Tivolization and Disneyization of art… Today the
museums will do anything to get away from that unsexiest
of epithets, ‘museum’… The sun has set a long time ago on
that staple of the Occident. Give us another ten years and
you won’t be able to tell a theme park from an aquarium
from a design shop from an art museum. And they say you
can’t teach an old dog new tricks! Well, pretty soon they
will have forgotten what an artist is. He will be identified
as the managerial genius with 700 assistants and 360º
of gallery representation who produces art rides that
actually work, the carnival barker – each more spectacular
and earnest than the last – capable of competing with
anything you’ll see at Six Flags or Hersheypark.
There is no puppeteer in the world, no hidden master
operator pulling the strings. Just an empty fairground
in a desert, offering dizzying rides that you will have to
take all on your own. Camp, suburb or playground? Hard
to tell. Legoland… Venice Beach… Belsen… Tensta…
Silkeborg… High Chaparral… No more conceptual games.
Nausea is the only appropriate response to the feeling of
the ride at the moment when you’re absolutely convinced
that this is it – you’re going to die. As the car you’re
sitting in takes a sharp turn, it feels briefly as if it’s sailing
off the sharp rim of the rails, and the next thing you know
Need art? Want aesthetic experience? The extraordinary?
The unexpected? Wait no longer! We offer semitransparent indoor slides with utopian superstructures!
Superdooperloopers that turn you out at the top and
then drop you like a falling star! Do-gooder family-friendly
kinetic sculpture from ethical entrepreneurs who struggle
ceaselessly with their sustainable egos! They have no
imagination to offer so they want to fuck directly with
your nervous system! Reversed waterfalls and plastic
vistas in coloured glass! Social design that embraces you
socially with nods to a zoo of social losers you will never
have to see socially again! Playgrounds, participation and
immersive environments! The ghosts of Tinguely and
Hultén dance with joy! Contemporary art for the comfy
body, for the superior backside that refuses to be moved
any other way than electromechanically! And just turn the
children loose – they’re the ideal hyper-distracted, easily
bribable, compulsorily creative art audience… You, too,
can become a Scandinavian child and enjoy multisensorial
experiences and go off psychedelically under your blond
curls… Now you know what your semi-annual visit to an art
exhibition is good for: it will transform you! Pro-found-ly!
Just check your incredulous face when you upload
your selfies back home. See that look? That was you
undergoing a soul-stirring, uptown yes-I-was-there-gittin’kulchurd triple-gold experience! It’s art without end,
without head or tail, you can’t distinguish anything any
more but the rhythmic rapture of events, events, events
that go ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung like the iron wheels
crossing the joints in the rails of the rollercoaster.
We sure got an eyeful of that carnival! And a headful
too! Bim bam! And bam again! We whirl around! And
we’re carried away! And we scream and we yell! There
we are, in a crowd with lights and noise and all the
rest of it! Step up, step up! Show your skill, show your
daring, and laugh laugh laugh! Whee! Everyone tries to
appear to their best advantage, sharp and just a little
aloof, to show that usually we go elsewhere for our
entertainment, to more “expensive” places as they say.
What will make us scream so we can open our eyes?
Real theme parks warn their audiences: “This is a
high-speed experience. Riders will experience many
unexpected, rapid changes in speed, direction, and/
or elevation requiring full body control. This ride is not
recommended for guests with physical, cognitive, and/or
medical limitations.” Etc. Now, we want something else…
We want rides to fit our physical, cognitive, medical –
and economic and social and sexual – limitations. Give
us farce – give us pathetic rides, hysterical vignettes that
go nowhere and make us all as befuddled and passive
as guinea pigs; give us the dissolution of everything into
indistinction... Give us offences to art, and fear as an art
form. Give us empty promises, bad magic and simulacra
that disappoint us into thinking. Magnesium flashes of
falseness – pouf. A quick rush and the rest is depression.
Anything to put some life into us.
You’re getting in over your head… You’re weightless,
suspended… You’re from a region of geographical extremes,
which apparently affects the inhabitants so they behave
irrationally and destructively, expressing psychological
instability and anguished existentialism… You’re isolated
and anxious… And you’re on holiday. In a film. So let’s ride
and ride and ride… until we start falling upwards. It’s easy.
Silly. Almost nothing. We are what we dream.
Lars Bang Larsen
Installations
Ride1;1 (The Danish Rat). 2004. Galleri Ping Pong.
Malmö. Sweden. Motor driven installation:
Metal. Plastic. Textile. MDF board. Photography:
Ink jet print on plastic. The ride rotates slow.
App. 600 x 200 x 200 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery. Malmö Konstmuseum
Next spread: Installation detail. Ride1;1. 2004.
Installation view. Ride1;1. 2004. Galleri Ping Pong.
Malmö. Sweden.
Installation view. Ride1;1. 2005.
Contemporary Art Center. Vilnius. Lithuania.
Installation view. Ride1;1. 2006.
Moderna Museet. Stockholm. Sweden.
Ride1;2 (A dysfunctional skyway). 2005. Tumba
Bruksmuseum. Sweden. Metal. The ride is out of order.
App. 700 x 900 x 30 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Ride1;3 (The Drop). 2006. Brändström & Stene Gallery.
Stockholm. Sweden. Motor driven installation: Metal.
Plastic. Textile. Rubber. Photography: Ink jet print
on plastic. Photo: Åke Arnerdal. The ride is a
transportation device. App. 1000 x variable x 350 cm.
Depending on space. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Installation detail. Ride1;3. 2006.
Installation view. Ride1;3. 2006. Eskilstuna Konstmuseum.
Sweden. Photo: Anders Kjaersgaard. Akfoto.
Installation view. Ride1;3. 2006. Eskilstuna Konstmuseum.
Sweden. Photo: Anders Kjaersgaard. Akfoto.
Ride1;4 (American gold washing pan). 2007–2008.
Frankfurter Kunstverein. Germany. Motor driven
installation: Metal. Plastic. Photography: Ink jet print
on plastic. Photo: Tamara Sussman. The ride is
spinning fast. App. 300 x 200 x 400 cm.
Depending on space. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery.
Konstnärsnämnden - IASPIS
Installation view. Ride1;4 in action. 2008.
Frankfurter Kunstverein. Germany.
Installation view. Sequence of Ride1;4 in action. 2008.
Frankfurter Kunstverein. Germany.
Ride1;4 A (Space barrel). 2007–2010. Installation view.
Bergen Kunstmuseum. Norway. Motor driven installation:
Metal. Plastic and includes the film Abduction on a
flatscreen. The ride is a simulator. 100 x 200 x 210 cm.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Filmstill sequence of Abduction. Ride1;4 A. 2010.
Filmstill sequence of Abduction. Ride1;4 A. 2010.
Ride1;5 (Splash). 2011. Moderna Museet. Stockholm.
Sweden. Live installation nearby a toilet: Wood. Neon.
Fabrics. Paper. Water. The ride is a real life experience.
App. 200 x 250 x 50 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Installation view. Ride1;5. 2011. Moderna Museet.
Stockholm. Sweden.
Installation view. Ride1;5. 2014. LiveInYourHead Gallery.
Geneva. Switzerland. Photo: Denise Bertschi.
Installation view. Secquence of Ride1;5 in action. 2011.
Moderna Museet. Stockholm. Sweden.
Ride1;6 (Crash). 2013–2014. Lars Bohman Gallery.
Stockholm. Sweden. See insert. Motor driven
installation: Metal. Plastic. Wood. Textile. Plexiglass.
Plywood. Photography: Ink jet print on paper and metal.
The ride goes straight ahead and rotates.
App. 1200 x 300 x 600 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Filmstill. Ride1;6. 2014.
Installation detail. Ride1;6. 2014.
Installation detail. Ride1;6. 2014.
Alien vs. Ride1. 2006. Nasjonalmuseet –
Museet for samtidskunst 2010. Oslo. Norway.
Flatscreen. Motor driven object, object contains wood,
plastic, metal, feathers. App. 200 x 150 x 200 cm.
Depending on space. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery.
Malmö Konstmuseum
Alien vs. Ride1. Installation view.
Moviken Art. Hudiksvall. Sweden. 2006.
Filmstill. Alien vs. Ride1. 2005.
RIDE1
In space no one can hear you scream.
Promotion for Alien vs. Ride1.
In space no one can hear you scream.
Filmstill. The Deer Hunter. 2005.
The Deer Hunter. 2005. Brändström & Stene Gallery
2006. Stockholm. Sweden. Flatscreen. Object contains
metal. App. 200 x 150 x 200 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Jaws. 2007. Galleri Lilith Waltenberg 2010. Malmö.
Sweden. Flatscreen. Object contains wood, metal.
App. 200 x 220 x 20 cm. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Filmstill. Jaws. 2007. Photo: Per Hillblom.
Filmstills. Big Business. 2012. Video Projection.
Size depending on space. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Filmstill. The Dark Stains. 2012.
The Dark Stains. 2012. Installation view.
Toves Galleri Vesterbro Contemporary Workout Space.
Copenhagen. Denmark. Also featuring Birgitta Tholander
and Kajsa Engstrand. Flatscreen. Motor driven object,
glass, plastic, metal, paper, candles.
App. 200 x 150 x 100 cm. Depending on space.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Norrköping 2009. 2010. Triptych. Photography:
Ink jet print on paper. 336 x 72 cm or 112 x 216 cm.
Depending on space. Edition of 5.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery. Statens Konstråd
Jack of many trades. 2007. Performance Still.
This image was photographed by an anonymous person
in the audience, at Frieze Art Fair in London. UK.
Our work was representing Frankfurter Kunstverein.
Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
San Gabriels CA 2007. 2010. Installation view
at Galleri Lilith Waltenberg. Malmö. Sweden.
Triptych. Photography: Ink jet print on paper.
336 x 72 cm or 112 x 216 cm. Depending on space.
Edition of 5. Courtesy Lars Bohman Gallery
Solo Exhibitions
2014. Ride1;6 (Crash). Lars Bohman Gallery,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2012. Big Business and The Dark Stains.
Toves Galleri Vesterbro Contemporary
Workout Space, Copenhagen, Denmark.
2012. Ride1;4 (American gold washing pan)
and Big Business. APA Gallery,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2011. Ride1;4 A (Space barrel).
Teatergalleriet, Uppsala, Sweden.
2010. The Deer Hunter, Alien vs. Ride1, Jaws,
Norrköping 2009, San Gabriels Ca 2007.
Galleri Lilith Waltenberg, Malmö, Sweden.
2007. Screening of The Deer Hunter,
Alien vs. Ride1, Jaws. High Energy
Constructs, Los Angeles, USA.
2007. A Year At The Opera. Mainly as
curators, arranged 10 shows during that
period. Also exhibited Alien vs. Ride1
and filmed Jaws in front of a live audience.
Norrlandsoperan, Umeå, Sweden.
2006. Ride1;3 (The Drop). The Deer Hunter.
Brändström & Stene Gallery,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2010. Take Me To Your Leader! The Great
Escape Into Space. Ride1;4 A (Space barrel),
Alien vs. Ride1, Nasjonalmuseet –
Museet for samtidskunst, Oslo, Norway.
2010. Art Copenhagen. Jaws. Representing
Galleri Lilith Waltenberg, Copenhagen, Denmark.
2010. Jack of many trades, Moderna Museet,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2010. Hemma hos Konsten. Alien vs. Ride1.
Arthouse Department, Stockholm, Sweden.
2009. Våra krossade amerikanska hjärtan.
Alien vs. Ride1, Museet för glömska. Norrköping. Sweden.
2008. A Grande Transformatión - Arte e
maxia táctica. Ride1;4 (American gold
washing pan), Ride1;4 A (Space barrel). MARCO, Museo de Arte Contemporane
de Vigo, Vigo, Spain.
2008. The Great Transformation – Art and
Tactical Magic. Ride1;4 (American gold
washing pan), Ride1;4 A (Space barrel).
Frankfurter Kunstverein, Frankfurt, Germany.
2008. One plus One`s a crowd.
Special made drawings for the theme.
Museo Municipal, Madrid, Spain.
2004. Ride1;1 (The Danish Rat).
Galleri Ping Pong, Malmö, Sweden.
2007. Frieze Art Fair. Jack of many trades.
Representing Frankfurter Kunstverein,
London, UK.
Selected Group And Theme Shows
2006. c/o – Atle Gerhardsen Gallery.
Alien vs. Ride1. Berlin, Germany.
2014. Mandatory Passivity. Ride1;5 (Splash).
LiveInYourHead Gallery, Geneva, Switzerland.
2013. Malmö Konstmuseum@Malmö Konsthall.
Ride1;1 (The Danish Rat). Malmö Konsthall,
Malmö, Sweden.
2013. Market. Ride1;4 A (Space barrel).
Representing Angelika Knäpper Gallery,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2012. Konst är dyrbarare än korv. Ride1;4
(American gold washing pan). Varbergs
Konsthall, Varberg, Sweden.
2011. Ride1;5 (Splash). Moderna Museet,
Stockholm, Sweden.
2011. Take Me To Your Leader! The Great
Escape Into Space. Ride1;4 A (Space barrel),
Alien vs. Ride1. Bergen Kunstmuseum,
Bergen, Norway.
2006. Moviken Art. Alien vs. Ride1,
Hudiksvall, Sweden.
2006. Things you see. Ride1;3 ( The Drop).
Eskilstuna Konstmuseum, Eskilstuna, Sweden.
2006. When Am I? Ride1;1 (The Danish Rat).
Moderna Museet, Stockholm, Sweden.
2005. Populism. Ride1;1 (The Danish Rat).
Contemporary Art Center, Vilnius, Lithuania.
2005. At the end of the rainbow. Ride;1;2
(A dysfunctional skyway). Tumba
Bruksmuseum, Stockholm, Sweden.
Selected Literature
In Scandinavia no one can hear you
scream. Catalogue: Lars Bang Larsen.
Published by Lars Bohman Gallery,
Stockholm. 2014.
Take Me To Your Leader! The Great
Escape Into Space. Catalogue: Stina
Högkvist and others. Published by
Nasjonalmuseet for kunst, arkitektur
og design. 2010.
The Great Transformation –
Art And Tactical Magic. Catalogue:
Chus Martinez and others. Published
by Frankfurter Kunstverein, Frankfurt
and MARCO, Vigo. 2008.
When Am I? Catalogue: John Peter
Nilsson, Magdalena Malm and others.
Published by Moderna Museet
Stockholm. 2006.
Populism. Catalogue: Lars Bang
Larsen and others. Published by
Lukas & Sternberg. 2005.
Represented
Malmö Konstmuseum. Sweden
Biography
Ronny A Hansson Lives and works
in Nyköping, Sweden. Education:
Academy of Fine Arts in Umeå.
Jonas Kjellgren Lives and works in
Torsåker, Sweden. Education: Academy
of Fine Arts in Umeå.
Stig Sjölund Lives and works in
Stockholm, Sweden. Education:
Konstfack University College of Arts,
Crafts and Design.
Acknowledgments
Ride1 would like to gratefully
acknowledge the people who helped
bring this catalogue and the show at
Lars Bohman Gallery together.
Angelika Knäpper, Jan Hansen,
Pelle Höglund, Malin Söderström,
Ditte Lauridsen, Nadine Schweiger
and Jan Ekman at Lars Bohman Gallery.
Lars Bang Larsen and Kalle Westlin.
Oscar Laufersweiler and
Gustav Granström at Ritator.