Reminder

Pakistani woman, Indian wearing a turban, blond Scandinavian, man from Ghana, barefooted Bolivian woman. We are confronted with different people from around the world, wondering and thinking – What do they have in common?

Eight life-size persons arranged in a line are put on display, waiting and not moving. The gaze and bodies of the persons on display create an enveloping presence capturing and activating the spectator. Enhanced by the reflections of the faceted windows in the domed hall (“Kuppelsalen”) the spectator is encircled in an intense field. It is here and at this moment that the search for meaning begins. What common story do these people contain? Despite differences in nationality, gender, age and attire the bodily passive attitude and blank stare are identical. The answer one seeks in terms of content is somewhere beyond the surface of the mere presence of the persons. The spectator cannot but return the line of blank stares. The feeling of disorientation in interpreting the installation increases when the influence of sight is mixed with the sounds of children’s voices singing displaced parts of the nursery song ‘Where is Thumbkin’ from different parts of the room. This double influence challenges the spectator. One searches the room for clues in order to create meaning. In this search the gaze rests at the only three dimensional object in the room: two small operating tables with transparent boxes. The content of the box is vaguely revealed and stimulate our sense of curiosity. A chocking vision takes form. In the boxes are shiny body organs with a nauseating yet aesthetic resonance. The nuances of white and red colours and the variation of form creates something beautiful and sculptural, at the same time there is something very life-like about the organs – one can almost feel a warmth rising up through the boxes. In opposition to this are the cold surfaces of the operating tables and the corresponding bodily passivity of the line of people and their pacifying gaze. The understanding lies in the connection between the elements of images, sound and sculpture in the installation. The transference of meaning between these elements is based on the overall meaning of the installation, the transference of organs, Organ Transfer II, which is also the title of the project. The installation is a reminder of the global trade of organs, apparently taking place in Scandinavia and Pakistan etc. and between the countries. We are faced with a staged reality in which the surgical operation leaves no trace on the body, it is being carried out secretly under the surface. The work provides no answer as to who is donor and who is victim in this transference of organs. It could be anybody; there is no distinction between age, gender or nationality. Indeed, it could even be the spectator. This point is emphasized in the reflection process of the line of people, where the spectator identifies with both the organ donor and the victim.

Graphical images displayed in the room contain the essence of the installation. At a distance the images appear to be decoratively patterned wallpaper. Yet, at closer inspection and with a chocking effect human bodies appear, organs are visible and bear witness to this organ transfer. The veiling of the installation itself consists in the postponement of opinion formation in time, which is taking place until the vision of the body organs and the meaning of the parts of the installation become clear.
The innocence of children’s voices disappear as the nursery song’s stanzas now illustrate this fragmentation of the body, which an organ transplantation imply, and it is replaced by a sense of guilt – Guilt at belonging to a human civilization able to carry out such barbaric absurdities. The verses of the nursery song: “Where is thumbkin? Where is thumbkin?…Here I am, Here I am…” will hopefully and with a persisting effect stand as a reminder of the awareness provided by Karen Bjerresgaard’s Installation Organ Transfer II: – that ethics and awareness are issues we all have to assist in limiting.

Louise Hauerberg and Mia Flindt.