Stavanger, Norway
I could stare at the sky forever and have always done so, wherever in the world I happen to be. The slivers that peek through skyscrapers in Manhattan, the world above the clouds as seen from an airplane, the vast openness of West Texas, the low golden light of the Mediterranean. The sky is not the same everywhere, and yet of course it also is, a tension sensitively captured in Helene Espedal-Selvåg’s installation Felles Himmel / Common Sky. Ten monitors spread out on the floor, each playing a video of the sky she filmed somewhere in the world, from Hiroshima to Stavanger. At the center stands a tall wooden platform, which can be ascended for better viewing. From up there, what do you see? The sky on the ground disorients. But also it is like a portal to another place, one of those holes children imagine digging all the way to China. Seeing so many at once suggests sameness as much as difference, like how we all need air to breath, but the quality of the atmosphere—due to climate, pollution, elevation—is nowhere exactly alike. One sky is available for the taking from a stack of free posters; visitors would do well to bring it home and hang it by their window, as a reminder.
—Lori Waxman, March 18, 4:30 PM