One (half serious) goal was to find Björk. Lots of people asked us to. There are t-shirts for sale that say “Where’s Björk?” in most stores. We laughed. I know she lives in New York with Matthew Barney. I once sat through an art history lecture on the Cremaster Cycle. I was unprepared for that lecture.
Still, there are only 300,000 people here. Two-thirds live in the capital city. So, if she were here, we’d stand a good chance.
And then! And then…we read the weekly English alternative paper “The Grapevine." Björk is in town. Björk is mad at Magma Energy. Björk, thus, is giving a press conference and concert at the Nordic House. We can walk there! We will walk there! Lots of self-congratulatory high fiving began.
The press conference started at 4pm so we hoofed the 2 miles to the Nordic House, or Norræna húsið.
Many were milling about. There were four genus of people.
One - journalists/people pretending to be journalists. This includes an angry man in a Che t-shirt. I was far more scared of the man in all military fatigues and a hammer&sickle shirt who kept taking everyone’s photo with a video camera. At one point I asked Brett if we should have an escape strategy.
Two – tourists, predominately America. I am guessing they read about the press conference on the same site as us.
Three – locals. Many of them cheek-kissed the people guarding the door. Some of them got in. Björk’s aunt perhaps?
Four – ambivalent folk. You can see one in the photo below in a flower-y dress.
And thus the sign on the door appeared. Press Only. I asked the woman at the door if that meant for the appropriately named “press conference.” Sadly, Björk had decided that morning to not have any of it open to the public. We were sad, but not defeated. After hanging around for a few minutes, the imp herself popped out a side door and headed in. I’ve read that she gets cranky and can go all Valkyrie on people so as we locked eyes, I didn’t take a picture. I balked at Björk. But I got a photo of her back. Brett described her outfit as “a crazy Chinese fan”. Agreed.
Wildly disappointing, I know. But that is her back and that is a disinterested person of genus 4 in a flowered dress walking towards me.
We hung around some more and could hear the strains of her light and piercing voice through the doors. It was ethereal and quite lovely. I wanted to shush the other looker-oners who were chatting quite loudly. We weren’t going to get a look, so why not listen?
Here’s a link to why she cares about it.
After a bit, there was clapping and the event clearly ended. So we went outside to play on a giant set of chairs.
There were also lots of pink footed geese. And daisies.
All in all, a pretty sweet day.