“What is the strangest thing you have ever bought online?” Conversation with Fritz Hendrik IV on his latest exhibition Sending and more.

The latest studio visit of our currently exhibiting artist Fritz Hendrik IV turned into much more than a questionnaire interview. Together we delved into a journey that began with an unexpected eBay find—a fossil—that sparked Sending, Fritz’s latest exhibition. This show, born from the boredom and human’s nature of discovering treasures online, unfolds into a profound exploration of connection, preservation and anticipation. Along the way, Fritz shares the stories behind his creative process, from crafting unanswerable password keychains to curating exhibitions seen through the eyes of a dog. With humor and insight, he reveals how chance encounters and everyday curiosities shape his art, turning the ordinary into extraordinary. And how—at the end of the day—we all pretend in order to become.

Listval: Could you walk me through the thoughts behind your latest exhibition Sending? How it occurred to you, what sparked the idea?
Fritz: It all started when I was bored at work, browsing eBay and exploring random categories. I’d heard that if you type in the word LOT, you can find listings where multiple items are sold together. When I chose the Everything Else category, things got weird—someone was selling the contents of a random drawer, another one was offering embalming instruments. While scrolling through all this, I came across fossils. The idea of buying a fossil on eBay seemed so strange, especially because they weren’t even that expensive. So, I bought one, thinking it could be a fun starting point for an exhibition.

And that’s the fossil right there—a 165-million-year-old Brittle Star, an extinct marine animal.

From there, I made these paintings. They show fossils being carried by transportation devices that look like woven baskets. In Icelandic cart means basket. It was kind of a silly idea, inspired by thinking about the Internet—as if the Internet itself had become a vessel.

It got me thinking about the origins of the objects we buy and sell online. Fossils, for example, are so deeply tied to specific places—formed over millions of years through layers and layers of earth. But then we just ship them across the globe, completely detached from their origin. Maybe that’s why buying one on eBay felt so strange to me in the first place.
Listval: From these works, you’ve developed others that explore a similar theme, though not in exactly the same way. Could you tell us more about them?

Fritz: Yes, these pieces are like silhouettes of typical objects in the corner of a room. Their titles are shipping numbers, and there’s also one of just the corner without the object. I was thinking of calling that one Insufficient Funds. Basically, they represent things that have been bought online. They’re on their way, but they’re not fully present yet.

Listval: But they exist in a sense, don’t they?

Fritz: Yes, they’re present in your mind. You’re anticipating them.

Listval: That anticipation often brings such joy, doesn’t it?

Fritz: Yes, it does. Sometimes, the anticipation is even better than actually receiving the items. There’s this mysterious in-between state, where the objects are neither fully here nor absent. It’s that liminal space I find interesting. .

Listval: You’re playing with this idea of being and non-being—like the transition between purchasing and receiving.

Fritz: And another layer to this is the title of the series, Sending. It’s a word that works in both Icelandic and English. In Icelandic, it means “shipment,” but it’s also tied to folklore, where it refers to ghosts. That ghostly, in-between state ties nicely into the theme.

Editorial note_ the Icelandic word “sending” translates to “shipment” or “delivery” in English, but it also has an interesting dual meaning tied to folklore. In Icelandic, sending can refer to a supernatural entity, often a ghostly or magical being sent by someone to carry out a task or mischief. This dual meaning links the concept of something being “sent” (like a package or delivery) with the idea of an otherworldly presence or being.

This linguistic overlap makes sending a fascinating word, as it connects the physical world (shipments or deliveries) with the ethereal or supernatural, which fits beautifully with the themes Fritz discussed—exploring the liminal space between presence and absence. _End of the editorial note

Listval: That’s such a beautiful interplay. What’s the last thing you purchased online?

Fritz: Shoes.

Listval: Ah, and how did you feel when they arrived?

Fritz: Actually, I haven’t received them yet.

Listval: So, you’re in that magical period of anticipation.

Fritz: Exactly—it’s a nice place to be.

Listval: I’d love to ask about the techniques you use and what materials or methods you currently lean toward. What are you enjoying working with the most?

Fritz: I really enjoy working with painting, which often becomes an essential factor in the whole exhibition. I’m used to thinking of an exhibition as a complete work rather than individual pieces. So, my shows usually aren’t just paintings, sculptures, or videos—they’re a mix.

Painting, though, is such a versatile medium. It allows for conceptual elements while still retaining a personal and emotional touch. It avoids becoming too cold or detached, which I like. The physical act of painting brings in a human element that keeps it engaging. As you might have gathered from my earlier explanation, I like to start with an idea or concept and build from there. Painting is often the medium I return to.

That said, I also have a deep appreciation for craftsmanship, like woodworking. There’s something incredibly satisfying about making things with wood, and I’ve developed an interest in it over the years.

Listval: Was this something that evolved over time, or has it always been part of your practice?

Fritz: It definitely evolved. I started with drawing, which eventually led to painting. Then, when I began art school, I was introduced to woodworking through the facilities there. That opened up a whole new realm for me.

As you can see here, I’ve accumulated tools for woodworking, and I also use 3D printers. For instance, the base of this sculpture was 3D printed. It’s a great tool because it offers so much precision and freedom.

Listval: Can you tell us more about how you’ve used 3D printing in this piece?

Fritz: Sure. This particular piece includes a sort of smoke or fog machine—it’s like a giant vape, really. I designed parts of it on the computer so they’d fit perfectly, which wouldn’t have been possible without 3D printing.

Listval: It seems like it would have been a real struggle otherwise.

Fritz: Exactly—it would have been quite a challenge. But with every exhibition, I try to include something I haven’t done before, so it’s also a learning process for me.

Listval: And for this exhibition, was it the sculpture?

Fritz: Yes, particularly the smoke component and the envelope. A funny challenge I faced was that when I used regular envelopes, they got wet because the vapor is essentially liquid. To fix this, I created my own envelope with silicone inside to make it watertight.

Listval: That’s so creative! Does this piece have a title?

Fritz: It shares the title of the show.

Listval: And what’s the message in the envelope?

Fritz: This piece came later in the process, and to me, it’s almost a literal interpretation of the concept I’ve been exploring—this transcendent state between presence and absence. The smoke being this ghostly presence that you can’t quite touch.

Listval: That’s fascinating.

Fritz: Yes, and it ties together the darker tones in this sculpture with other pieces in the show. There’s also a poem I’ve written, which will likely be printed on the wall as part of the exhibition.

Listval: Is the poem in Icelandic?

Fritz: I have it in both Icelandic and English. Let me see if I can find it… Do you want me to read it?
Listval: Yes, I would love to hear it.
Fritz: 

Order 

on its way 

a fossil 

put in a basket 

on a web 

into an envelope 

folded together 

from a corner 

to another 

escape 

spirit left 

arriving later 

dirt ordered 

new roots 

a cornerstone.

Listval: You graduated from the Icelandic Art Academy in 2016. When it comes to the development of your craft through the years, are there any art movements or specific pieces that have influenced you as an artist notably?

Fritz: That’s a good question. I always feel like I should have a prepared answer ready, but honestly, I don’t.

Listval: Take your time.

Fritz: Well, I keep coming back to Wild at Heart by David Lynch.It probably has nothing to do with my work directly, but I love that movie. 

Listval: That makes sense to me. Films can open up entire universes, showing you what it means to create or see the world in a new way. They don’t have to align with your path—they just prove that creativity has no limits.

Fritz: Exactly. And that film breaks so many rules. It’s freeing in a way.

Listval: Nicolas Cage singing Elvis Presley might be my favorite scene ever to be quite honest!

Fritz: It’s the best. Especially with the screams from the crowd—screams of agony layered on top of it. It’s amazing.

Listval: Thank you for sharing! This might be officially my favorite answer to this question so far. 

Listval: Okay, I know you’ve talked about starting with painting, but your techniques have evolved ever since. Do you ever look back on your older work, especially since you explore perception so much? Does your perception of your own pieces change over time? Can you ever find yourself hating something you once did—or maybe loving it, finding new meanings in it?

Fritz: Yeah, definitely. I think what happens is that when I look at something I made further back, I see myself mirroring what influenced me at that time. And since I’m not that person anymore, it becomes very obvious. At the time, it felt sincere, like I was doing something truly authentic. But looking back, I can see, “Oh, I know what I was trying to do there.”

Listval: That feels so similar to life, doesn’t it? Like, maybe we fall in love and act a certain way, but later we look back and think, “I was such a fool.”

Fritz: Exactly.

Listval: So that happens with your art too?

Fritz: Yeah. When I look back, I can see how I was emulating certain models or ideas—things that inspired me—but it wasn’t as clear to me then as it is now.

Listval: Let’s dive deeper into how you explore consciousness and unconsciousness in your work. Are you aware of these dynamics while you’re creating? Like, can you distinguish what’s unconscious from what’s deliberate?

Fritz: Actually, for me, this idea of conscious and unconscious staging connects to my final thesis when I graduated art school. 

My thesis was about viewing both art-making and life itself as theater. For example, as an artist, I’m not just making art—I’m playing the role of an artist. I put on the costume, say the lines, and perform the act. What I realized then is that we often take these human roles very seriously without acknowledging that it’s all invented. When you become aware of that, it gives you freedom—a kind of wiggle room to play with your role.

Listval: Fascinating! It reminds me of a theory I read about when I was graduating—I’ll need to look up the name. Are you referring to something similar?

Fritz: Maybe. There are several people who’ve written about it. Existentialism, for instance—Sartre comes to mind. Or Baudrillard and his ideas about simulacra and simulation.

Listval: Yes, Baudrillard! That’s what I was thinking of. What was your thesis called?

Fritz: It was called Hermt eftir sofandi manni, which translates to Imitating a Sleeping Man.

Listval: Why Sleeping Man?

Fritz: Because to fall asleep, you first have to imitate someone who’s already asleep. You close your eyes, lie still, and mimic the state of sleep until it becomes real. I thought that was a funny metaphor.

Listval: It’s perfect! That applies to so many things in life. To do something, you often have to pretend first. Even being an artist is like being a sleeping man—you pretend for a little while, and eventually, it becomes reality.

Fritz: Totally. And then who’s to say it doesn’t apply to everything, even just being a person? Not even a person in a society, just a person being alive.

Listval: How so?

Fritz: Like, we don’t consciously think about breathing—it’s automatic now, but it was probably really hard right after you were born.

Listval: Your work also often introduces viewers to the wiring in between knowledge, tradition, and perception—how do you think these elements interplay?

Fritz: I think that a lot of our perception is shaped by prior knowledge. When we see something, we try to interpret it using what we already know.

Listval: Exactly. Knowledge shapes our perception, but that perception always exists in a cultural context, doesn’t it? It’s like we use cultural clues to resolve what we’re seeing. How do we even know what we know?

Fritz: That’s a great question. I think it’s fundamental—our perception is filtered through knowledge and tradition. They’re inseparable.

Listval: Do you think contemporary art has the power to challenge those traditions and perceptions?

Fritz: It can, absolutely. Challenging tradition is one of art’s strengths. But I don’t think it’s necessary for art to serve a specific purpose. Art doesn’t need to raise questions or have a function—it can just be. Sometimes, I think art’s inherent “uselessness” is what makes it so valuable.

Listval: That’s interesting. So you’re not necessarily a believer that art should always raise questions?

Fritz: No, not always. I love art that isn’t explicitly asking questions. But the beauty of art is that you can find questions in almost any piece if you look for them.

Listval: Being a part of exhibitions also outside of Iceland, comparing different artistic landscapes. Do you feel like Icelanders lean more towards art? Are they more willing to support it compared to other places?

Fritz: I think so, but it’s not necessarily about mentality. It’s more about Iceland’s size and short history. If something becomes popular in Iceland—like art—it’s easy for everyone to jump on board, regardless of their background. In larger societies, art often feels more tied to class or wealth. What do you think?

Listval: For me, coming from abroad, it feels like dreams are bigger and more achievable here. Pretending to be an artist is easier here, and then as we learned today, it actually becomes reality.

Fritz: Totally. In smaller communities, you’re more likely to know an artist personally, which makes the idea of becoming one yourself feel realistic.

Listval: It’s like your Sleeping Man concept—it applies very well for this place. That freedom and support make Iceland a special environment for artists.

Listval: Do you now have a craving to head back to eBay and search for more treasures? And out of curiosity, did you come across anything stranger than fossils?

Fritz: you can buy a mystery box.

Listval: Something like a cat in a box?

Fritz: Yeah, like, you don’t know what you’re buying. Which is weird.

Listval: And that could also be a nice starter for an exhibition.

Fritz: Yeah, exactly.

Listval: But I’m sure someone has probably already done it. Maybe it’s a little more open.

Fritz: Yeah. The thing is, when I’m working with an idea for an exhibition, I like something very specific but also very open. I feel like this kind of was it.

Listval: When it comes to your previous exhibitions, was the starter also some kind of random, like it was this time?

Fritz: I did an exhibition once called Lost Passwords because I was always forgetting my passwords.

Listval: Well, me too.

Fritz: Yeah. Who isn’t forgetting their passwords? So, I made different types of keys that were totally unusable but had keychains that looked like hotel keys. Each keychain had a very specific question to remind you of your password, but the answers were totally unanswerable.

Listval: I hate those questions.

Fritz: I know! I never know which one to pick.

Listval: Mentioning the random sparks behind your previous exhibitions. Actually, there’s one piece in Listval we have, which I have admired for a long time now and was meaning to talk to you about. Dog rainbow. 

Fritz: Oh, yeah, that one came about in a similar way. I’d heard that dogs only see grays, blues, and yellows, and I thought, wow, that could be a great idea for a painting exhibition—creating works in those colors, imagining how paintings might look from a dog’s perspective.

Listval: Oh, so it’s the dog’s pov?

Fritz: That was kind of the idea. I started with a sketch of a view from a car—because, you know, that’s such a classic place for a dog, tongue out, enjoying the ride. From there, it snowballed into this bigger idea of being a passive observer in your own life. Like seeing it in a muted, washed-out way—when you’re not really in control, just along for the ride, experiencing a less vibrant version of your surroundings.

Listval: Passenger seat.

Fritz: But the funny thing was, I thought, “Oh, this is going to be a light-hearted and fun dog exhibition,” but it turned out to be the most depressing show I’ve done. But I really love those paintings. They were some of my favorites.

Listval: Yes, I really do too. It was one of those that really sparked my eyes. That’s why I remembered to ask you about it.

Fritz: In the center of the space, there was a sculpture resembling a dog obstacle from a dog show, painted in the three colors dogs can see. All the works were hung at dog height, and I painted the walls to evoke the feeling of a car interior. To complete the atmosphere, there were pheromone diffusers and scents of gasoline and freshly cut grass.

Listval: As those nostalgic tree-shaped air fresheners hanging from the rearview mirrors in cars. 

Fritz: Exactly.

Listval: Well, thank you so much for meeting me and talking to me Fritz.

Fritz: Thank you for coming.

From the corner to another—being in the studio, I handed Fritz a mini handheld camera, giving him the chance to perceive the pieces from the latest exhibition Sending, through his very own eyes. 

You can come experience the works yourself, till the 7th of December in Listval.