Written by Alžbeta Chropúvková

Ingunn Fjóla Ingþórsdóttir, an Icelandic artist and curator, is renowned for her innovative work that seamlessly combines installations, painting, and weaving. On a sunny Monday, on behalf of Listval, I had the pleasure of visiting Ingunn at her home studio, where we delved into her ongoing exploration of the delicate balance between order and chaos, as well as the dynamic relationship between the viewer and action. Ingunn’s artistry invites contemplation on the systems that shape our world. Her current exhibition, “PALEBRIGHT BEAMDEEP,” is now on display at Listval.

“So here are a few from the latest series,” Ingunn points to the wall behind her. “I don’t know, maybe it could be called the grid series?”

“Why so?” I ask.

”What I was thinking about when I started weaving these pieces was, well, I was inspired by graph paper, and how it is often in certain colors to help you categorize and classify. The lines have different nuances of the color, so it helps you place things on the paper. I have always found them very fascinating and just really beautiful. It’s like, you know, a piece in itself, a very minimal drawing,” Ingunn quickly pulls sheets from her desk.

“I remember always stealing these from my mom’s drawer, she’s an accountant,” I share my childhood memory.

“Yes! It’s something very banal, you know, for everyday use. However these are the tools which help us get control of things that we’re working with. Architects use them, accountants use them. And so, it’s a working process which has an outcome, which often has a lot to do with systems and putting things in order. And that’s something which I’m really fascinated about – the ways that you put things in order within this world,” Ingunn explains.

“Also, I think excel sheets can be very aesthetic,” she adds with a smile.

“Yes, they can, if someone knows how to make them. Other ways around, they can turn very chaotic,” I say.

“Exactly.”

Inbetween order and chaos through excel sheets

Listval: Talking about recurring concepts in your work, what is it about universal systems that you keep exploring?

I think a lot about the balance between order and chaos, and the space in between. It’s a big idea, but it’s really about the question whether the world is more chaotic or more orderly. As humans, we constantly try to impose order to understand the world better. With the progress of science, we gain more knowledge, which in turn gives us a sense of power and control. But at the same time, we realize how little we know, how vast and ever-changing the world is. That’s the recurring theme in my work—the idea of gaining control and the realization that complete control is impossible.

Listval: We’ve talked about a few things that inspire you—sometimes even mundane things like Excel sheets, which help you put things in order too. But since you studied art history for three years, are there any artists or movements who influenced your artistic vision?

Yes, I draw a lot of inspiration from art history and enjoy looking at other people’s work. I was particularly inspired by the minimalist movement of the 1970s, especially certain American artists. The Minimalists like Robert Morris, Donald Judd, Fred Sandback and Agnes Martin, as well as Light and Space artists like James Turrell and Larry Bell, and that whole movement had a huge impact on me. While studying in Denmark, I took a course on minimalism and realized that some artists were creating work that was primarily about perception—focusing on color, shape, and the relationship between the work, the viewer, and the surrounding space, rather than on conveying a particular meaning. This realization was a big eye-opener for me.

Listval: How did that influence your work at the time? Does it still impact you today?

For a long time, I focused mainly on installations—many of them were about color, shapes, and perception. Over the years, my work has evolved and become more about the systematic interplay between the artwork, the viewer, the space, and myself. It’s about engaging the viewer, sometimes purely through aesthetics and sometimes through interactive actions.

Direct participation

Listval: Do you believe that art should be participatory, or even physically interactive? How do you think this can benefit someone trying to connect more deeply with the artwork?

I find it very fascinating when people can engage with the work using more than one sense. Not just sight, but also touch. My installations often involve spaces where you need to move around, which I really enjoy because it gets people to see things from different viewpoints. I try to create environments that people can step into and hopefully forget the outside world for a while. I’ve also made huge frames that people need to touch to spin. In these cases, touch is crucial because it’s the viewer who activates the pieces—their movement becomes the force of motion. But I’ve also done installations where the motion comes from a motor, often connected to a sensor, so the work only moves when someone enters the space. I love playing with the idea of participation, making pieces that remain still until someone engages with them and then suddenly come to life. But I don’t necessarily think that all art should be participatory. It works for me, but that doesn’t mean it works for all artists or all viewers. 

Listval: You mentioned before that you often revisit certain aspects of your work, reusing them in different patterns. You even had an installation called The Only Constant is Change. How do you decide which elements to bring back?

That’s a really good question because I think, like many artists, I feel there’s a core in my art practice that I keep returning to. It’s not about repeating the same thing, but rather exploring this core in different ways. Sometimes, when I come up with a new idea, I realize later that it’s similar to something I’ve done before. It’s like you can’t fully escape from yourself. So, I’m always circling around this core, but my work continues to evolve and isn’t just a repetition. When I start a new installation, I usually begin by considering the space. Space often shapes what I want to do. Sometimes, practical elements, like the type of ceiling or whether I can drill into the floor, play a decisive role. I see the space as a puzzle that I need to solve, but it’s also about testing out my ideas. So, it’s a combination of what the space allows and the ideas that emerge when I’m there. But at the core, it’s always the same essence, just manifested in different ways.

The Only Constant is Change / Ekkert er víst nema að allt breytist (2022)

Hypothesis / Tylgáta (2024)

Listval: At our gallery, we can find your series called Hypothesis, described as a contemplation of the underlying system that controls the world. Could you walk us through your thought process behind these works?

The works on paper called Hypothesis are closely connected to an installation piece I showed at the Akureyri Art Museum earlier this year. It started with an invitation to participate in a show called The Creation of Youth. The exhibition was unique because it involved two practicing  artists and two groups of school kids—elementary and kindergarten—working on the same theme, which in this case was circles. Circles weren’t something I chose; they were assigned to me, so I began thinking deeply about them. I asked if I could work with the floor while the other artists and kids used the walls. While researching circles, I stumbled upon a medieval diagram of how people once thought the universe looked, with Earth at the center and the sun and planets revolving around it. I was fascinated by how our understanding of the universe has constantly changed, and how we keep realizing that we were wrong before. It made me wonder—if we’ve always been wrong, how can we be sure we’re right now? That idea drove much of the work. 

For the installation, I used snooker balls arranged in the center of a large circle made of linoleum, which itself was composed of expanding, differently colored circles symbolizing planets. The design was inspired by that medieval diagram, but I also incorporated elements from Renaissance diagrams where the sun is in the center, not the Earth. The installation was participatory; visitors, both kids and adults, could move the snooker balls around. At the start of the day, the balls were in the center, but by the end, they had spread out, symbolizing the Big Bang—an explosion that started from one point and expanded into the universe. The paper works you mentioned are related to this installation. I wanted to create smaller works that would complement the installation, serving as my own diagram or hypothesis. I call it Hypothesis because it’s just that—a suggestion, an idea of what the Big Bang might have looked like. These pieces were also inspired by images from simulations of the Big Bang. Overall, the work reflects my modest ideas about the universe. I love creating pieces that can be enjoyed on a basic level—kids can engage with them through color, touch, and play. There’s something beautiful about seeing movement that I’m not in control of, as the piece takes on a life of its own through the interactions of others.

Primum Mobile (2024)

Listval: And I think it’s so important for children to engage with art through these kinds of installations. It makes it easier for them to connect, even if they don’t fully grasp the concept right away. They can recognize elements like the sun, the light beams, and the balls, and later on, they can link it to other things, enriching their minds from a young age. Works like these are really valuable.

Thank you, I’m glad to hear that. I like that different groups can experience the piece from different perspectives. Some may dive deep into the philosophy behind it, while others might just see it as a movable painting on the floor. It really depends on the viewer and the group visiting. I enjoy creating pieces with layers that can be accessed in different ways.

Gravity

Listval: When I first saw it, I actually started thinking about the core of my universe—what’s most important and what everything in my world revolves around. It made me curious: what’s at the core of your universe these days?

Yeah, that’s a tough question because I’ve been thinking about it too. It’s something I reflected on while creating The Only Constant is Change. I was thinking about how much control we really have over our lives and how much is shaped by things beyond our control. Our lives can be altered by unexpected events, making me wonder—do we truly have control, or are we just victims of circumstances and coincidences? I’ve also been considering how privileged we are to live in a part of the world where we have certain freedoms, like the ability to travel. It’s something we often take for granted, but others, born in different circumstances, don’t have that luxury. So, lately, I’ve been thinking about how we perceive ourselves as the architects of our lives, but it’s not always that simple. We shouldn’t take our freedoms for granted. I think that sums up where my thoughts have been.

Listval: Sometimes, it feels like privileged groups are at the core with the power of gravity, effortlessly drawing things toward them. Meanwhile, other groups or societies don’t have that same advantage, lacking the gravity we do.

Exactly, that’s a great way to put it—having gravity. I’ve been working a lot with refugees, and I’ve seen firsthand how difficult life can be for those who don’t have that advantage. Systems can be both helpful and controlling; they keep things in order but can also suppress certain groups. The power within these systems is often held by a few, leaving others powerless.

Listval: I’m curious if, since you’ve been working with refugees and thinking about these systems’ destructive powers, you’ve considered creating art based on this theme?

That’s a good question. I have been thinking about whether to combine my work with refugees and my art practice or keep them separate. It’s something I’m still figuring out. I’ve seen how unfair systems can be, how they control people’s lives, and how much violence and abuse they can cause. Through my experience, I’ve started to see the process refugees go through as a kind of labyrinth or even like a computer game. They have to navigate many levels, solve tasks, make the right decisions, and if they make a mistake or don’t meet the system’s criteria, it’s game over—they have to start all over again. I’ve thought about creating an art piece based on this idea, perhaps a labyrinth that’s constantly changing. But I’m not sure yet if I’ll pursue it.

Water in the mouth, the ongoing exhibition in Listval

Listval: The ongoing exhibition “PALEBRIGHT BEAMDEEP” is described as a colorful conversation between your woven paintings, systematically positioned to trigger the viewer’s senses. Can you tell us more about your process behind these works?

For this upcoming solo show at Listval, I’m creating three new series that combine painting and weaving. While the individual pieces don’t have titles yet, I’m referring to them collectively as “woven paintings,” like previous series of works made in similar ways. In these works, I’m deeply engaged with color, blending the techniques of weaving and painting. I’ve been thinking a lot about how colors are used in various aspects of our society and daily life—whether in Excel sheets, traffic lights, clothing, or advertising—and how they capture our attention. The meaning of color can vary greatly depending on context. For instance, red can symbolize love in one setting but signal danger in another, like a stop sign. This exploration has also led me to reflect inwardly, questioning my own relationship with color and why it continues to captivate me. I believe it’s partly due to its sensuality and its role in aesthetic perception. While I don’t have a definitive answer, I think colors play a significant role both in society and in nature. They’re part of how we attract one another—like how flowers draw in insects or birds attract mates. There’s an instinctual connection to color, something embedded in our DNA, but it’s also culturally constructed, like the universal agreement that a stop sign means stop.

Listval: Do you have a special relationship to any of the colors?

You know, for me, it’s always been about the color combinations. With some of them, I get a physical reaction, a water is forming in my mouth. And I guess, I hope, a viewer can get a similar reaction. But one can never be sure. Everyone has a different..

Listval: Taste palettes?

Exactly.