DisAppearing World | Försvinnande Värld
Day One: Writing on Water
Svandammen Pond
Uppsala, Sweden
September 2018
For this “writing on water” installation on Uppsala’s Svandammen Pond (The Swan Pond) in a public park in the center of that city, all necessary permits and permissions had been dutifully obtained beforehand from local authorities.
Taking the entire day for the installation, two large words, DISAPPEARING WORLD, were written on the pond, with DIS and APPEARING split and meeting at right angles; nearby, the words WORLD and VÄRLD, in English and Swedish, intersected bilingually on the water. Later that night, the installation was finally completed, with the floating words appearing luminous in the evening light.
Unexpectedly, news was received the next afternoon that the project, intended to stay in place for a week, had been removed from the water. Someone, it appears, in the Uppsala Parks Department had not been informed of the installation and mistook the material for “debris,” unaware that what was destroyed were words written on the water. Soon after, those who had pulled in the project were informed of the miscommunication and apologized for the error. However, with its removal, the installation abruptly concluded, and all that remained were its letters piled up in an illegible jumble at the edge of the pond.
Swedish National Television (SVT) found out about the destruction of the installation and, days later, broadcast a report about the “debacle,” noting the irony of how the words on the pond had, disappearing, inadvertently manifested something of their own meaning. News coverage of the event, appearing throughout Sweden, was said to have been seen by well over 100,000 viewers.
Taking the entire day for the installation, two large words, DISAPPEARING WORLD, were written on the pond, with DIS and APPEARING split and meeting at right angles; nearby, the words WORLD and VÄRLD, in English and Swedish, intersected bilingually on the water. Later that night, the installation was finally completed, with the floating words appearing luminous in the evening light.
Unexpectedly, news was received the next afternoon that the project, intended to stay in place for a week, had been removed from the water. Someone, it appears, in the Uppsala Parks Department had not been informed of the installation and mistook the material for “debris,” unaware that what was destroyed were words written on the water. Soon after, those who had pulled in the project were informed of the miscommunication and apologized for the error. However, with its removal, the installation abruptly concluded, and all that remained were its letters piled up in an illegible jumble at the edge of the pond.
Swedish National Television (SVT) found out about the destruction of the installation and, days later, broadcast a report about the “debacle,” noting the irony of how the words on the pond had, disappearing, inadvertently manifested something of their own meaning. News coverage of the event, appearing throughout Sweden, was said to have been seen by well over 100,000 viewers.
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The Magazine
Many weeks were involved in the preparation of this “writing on water” installation in Uppsala, Sweden, both a historical study of the site as well as an exploration of my personal connections to the country. My ancestors, crossing the Atlantic and passing through New York’s Castle Garden Immigration Center, emigrated from Sweden to the United States in the early 1870s. For the many like them who undertook this often-harrowing journey, one world, disappearing, was left behind, with a new world far away entered into.
What follows are the individual pages from a magazine placed on the fourteen benches alongside the Svandemman Pond (The Swan Pond) during the installation, where the words “DIS | APPEARING | WORLD” were written upon the pond at the center of that city. This magazine was intended as a historical and personal supplement to the project. Tied by a thin wire to each of the benches, the magazines were in zip lock bags, with a stone placed on top of each of them to keep them in place.
By the second day of the installation, however, just like the “writing on water” project itself (in which the words on the pond had been mistakenly removed [see pgs. 35-39]), all fourteen copies of the magazine had disappeared. Not a trace was left behind of either the installation or the magazines, as virtually everything about the project had entirely vanished except for the memories of the event—images of its having taken place, of its having happened at all.
What follows are the individual pages from a magazine placed on the fourteen benches alongside the Svandemman Pond (The Swan Pond) during the installation, where the words “DIS | APPEARING | WORLD” were written upon the pond at the center of that city. This magazine was intended as a historical and personal supplement to the project. Tied by a thin wire to each of the benches, the magazines were in zip lock bags, with a stone placed on top of each of them to keep them in place.
By the second day of the installation, however, just like the “writing on water” project itself (in which the words on the pond had been mistakenly removed [see pgs. 35-39]), all fourteen copies of the magazine had disappeared. Not a trace was left behind of either the installation or the magazines, as virtually everything about the project had entirely vanished except for the memories of the event—images of its having taken place, of its having happened at all.
Day Two: The Parks Crew and Reports of "Debris"
The Inadvertent De-Installation, and the Disappearing of the Disappearing World
The Inadvertent De-Installation, and the Disappearing of the Disappearing World
On the second morning of the installation, someone in the community called in to the Uppsala Parks Department,
reporting "debris" floating on the pond. The crew (above) quickly responded, hastily removing the writing on water installation (at which time, apparently, the "debris" went unrecognized as letters and words). Not long after, however, the mistake was realized, the official police permit located, and apologies were given. I arrived soon after
(but too late) at the scene of the disappearance.
reporting "debris" floating on the pond. The crew (above) quickly responded, hastily removing the writing on water installation (at which time, apparently, the "debris" went unrecognized as letters and words). Not long after, however, the mistake was realized, the official police permit located, and apologies were given. I arrived soon after
(but too late) at the scene of the disappearance.
Day Three: The Interview
Swedish National Television. "The Park Unit Cleans Up the Artwork"
Video and interview by Niklas Gedda, of SVT: Nyheter
Broadcast September 19, 2018.
www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/uppsala/har-stadar-parkenheten-bort-konstverke
Swedish National Television. "The Park Unit Cleans Up the Artwork"
Video and interview by Niklas Gedda, of SVT: Nyheter
Broadcast September 19, 2018.
www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/uppsala/har-stadar-parkenheten-bort-konstverke
Swedish National Radio, "The Artwork Was Erased — By Mistake."
Broadcast on Wednesday, September 19, 2018
sverigesradio.se/sida/artikel.aspx?programid=114&artikel=7046939
Broadcast on Wednesday, September 19, 2018
sverigesradio.se/sida/artikel.aspx?programid=114&artikel=7046939
Day Four: The Newspaper
Aftonbladet (Stockholm Daily Newspaper), "The Municipality Cleaned Up the Artwork— Thought it was Rubbish,"
Published September 22, 2018
Aftonbladet (Stockholm Daily Newspaper), "The Municipality Cleaned Up the Artwork— Thought it was Rubbish,"
Published September 22, 2018
"The Art that Was Cleaned Away"
https://www.tellerreport.com/life/2020-07-16-the-art-that-was-cleaned-away.SJ4fnCKp1v.html
https://www.tellerreport.com/life/2020-07-16-the-art-that-was-cleaned-away.SJ4fnCKp1v.html
Many thanks to Ayla Lunberry and Serhan Wade for their enormous help with the installation (and Ayla for many of the photographs); Otto Fischer and Mats Rosengren of Uppsala University for the invitation; Erik Falk for the paddle board; and Emmanuel Cruz for assistance with the magazine...
Copyright © 2019 Clark Lunberry. All rights reserved.