jueves, 3 de noviembre de 2011


Frampek or prolepse is the phenomena in narratology or literary theory that there are signs or warnings of what will happen in the future in a narrative.

The story of this exhibition began when I was desperately roaming the city of Oslo with my hands full of papers, searching for employment. Anything I could get would fit me like a warm glove on a cold hand, to help me survive the misfortune of emigrating on the transcultural Titanic. It was the last place to visit: MS Innvik, a ship converted into a theatre years ago, and recycled since 2001 as the Nordic Black Theatre.

I emptied my hands, displaying these humid, sweaty sheets of paper from hours of walking in a labyrinth of concrete, begging to God. Sitting at a table was a close-knitted group of people discussing something: “Excuse me! Who is the boss…“ with my English derived from the multicultural, sounding like a kind of dialect. A white man read my papers, looked at me, I looked at him…

“Come back next week and we will talk” he said.

With the ambiguous, double-edged privileges embedded in a social democratic society, we have reached an agreement that persists until now.

I started to frequent this place with the intention of making a project, I had no idea how to begin thinking about what to do: I brought my camera, my sound recorder. Some or other of these beautiful and effective toys of advanced technology.. I went out wandering, photos appeared, sounds came and went like a wind. The city is under construction, machines, hammers, excavators, resulting in a lot of noise. Constructing the new city, which will represent new people, a new species, the future of technology, a contemporary society, an enclave inside the old and vanished Viking city. Bjørvika is born! Questions are born: Who decides the future? What do I do with this material?

The ship was in this time the Fort from where I observed the War, but these soldiers of construction advanced without piety towards the fort, what will happen to this huge amount of iron? This place where they danced, they sang, they ate and slept, spaces that for some were like home, spaces for tertulias (informal exchanges and debates), theatre, cybercafé. Consequently, men and women originating in different latitudes, had the possibility to heat their hands inside and look through the windows of the fort at the unknown future. The script of what was staged before their eyes was not clear to them. They could only see from their point of view an army of yellow machines advancing.

Versión de texto en ingles: Kristin Bergaust.

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