Artist: karin jaxelius Tags: Permanent art


Lotta Mossum - Ansvarig curator

It is precarious to say where it starts. It’s an incomparable jumble and rat’s nest. In the draft outline, the artist Karin Jaxelius describes her decision not to let the work Atmosphere allude to the activities of the police headquarters. Instead, her inspira­tion came from the great volume of air. In view of the expression of the work, it nevertheless seems to revolt strangely against the setting. The word police comes from the Latin word for city government, public administration. A well-organised centre that regulates law and order. The entrance hall of the new police head­ quarters in Toftanäs, Malmö, is sober and formal. It is not open to the general public. Some rooms have restricted access.

Karin Jaxelius’ Atmosphere in the en­ trance hall establishes another organisa­tion for life’s own laws. The work, which was created in ceramic material on a steel structure and multilateral joints, twists the Swedish word polis (police) into “polys”, which means many. This work is a strange body that demonstrates an orga­nic strength. Power has been painstakingly transformed, stretched out and given a satiny finish in unique shapes: strange spars. Each spar is linked to another, thereby generating new directions, tangents and wrong turns. Occasionally, they take off towards the edges, but nothing is certain. Notions such as up and down, ugly and beautiful, right and wrong, become irrelevant. Different from anything else, the work hangs suspended by wires; fear changes into excitement. The choices are not clear beforehand, but the spars branch out, generate new buds, intertwine. Together, the branches form a sprouting latticework that lifts and penetrates the air. A bunch of pale coral, or perhaps flying cranes. It is a tangle and a jumble beyond comparison. Order is temporarily disturbed, separated from its service. Here, rebellion is raised beyond suspicion. The white work stands out against the dark-grey walls –  like different shades of artlessness.

Pamela Schultz Nybacka