Always carefully responding
to the given architectural conditions and conceptual contexts, Margrét
H. Blöndal’s sculptures and installations are spatial poems,
woven with diverse fabrics and everyday life found materials, and narrated
with a plot of a particular formal modesty and sensual generosity. Her
work’s emotive materiality contributes to the space’s volume
with its delicately balanced and controlled tension between lightness
and weight, complemented by the collection of contrasting colors that
punctuate the outline of the space, thus generating a synergy and a
sense of spatial communion. Such are Blöndal’s silent identities,
abstract remnants of presences, organic entities on the stage of artist’s
own vernacular theatrics. Fabric’s textures, fragmented surfaces
and partial objects, pieces of cloth or rubber, cables and lines are
moulded and rolled, squeezed and stretched, as if wounded or mutilated,
in the artist’s obsessive labor of generating a new grammar of
belonging, on the crossway of the domestic, the natural and the newly
born spatial configuration. Blöndal’s fragile sculptural
arrangements bear a quality of nomadic, almost personified, objects,
always on the move, in a search for their proper place and identity
in the crowd of formal noise and randomness. A new installation, conceived
for the Manifattura Tabacchi, is the artist’s spontaneous response
to the spatial aesthetics of the industrial architecture’s production
halls. Here, the intimacy of a subtle sculptural gesture is challenged
by the uniformed interiors that complement the work with a decadent
lure and melancholy. A new series of drawings and watercolors, as if
pages of artist’s own diary, friezes the emotional states of a
perplexed subject. |