X





.?(¯°·._.•ㄒ卄乇 Ҝ几öㄥ•._.·°¯) ؟.


The Swedish word knöl encompasses all forms of lumps, bumps, tubers, humps, knobs, knots, hunches, rotters and other suspicious or undesirable existences. Working with performance art, sculpture, installations, photography and drawing, I’ve been exploring the concept of the knöl both as an undefined shape and in a wider context for more than a decade. Yes, you could rightly say that I’ve been obsessed with this lumpy thing since 2010, when I started the ongoing project 'The search for the perfect knöl'.

At that time I felt stuck in my in myself and the deep straight furrows which I stubbornly continued to plow. But at the same time desperatly looking for something new to explore. Something to draw my attention away, to get lost in, to twist and turn until there would be nothing more to see. The knöl has since been like a scab that I just can’t help but pick and scratch, with a mixture of fascination and disgust. And it doesn't seem matter how much I poke in this lumpy wound, there is always more to find.



*𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣**𝔨 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔎𝔫ö𝔩?

I usually define a knöl as something that stands out and breaks off what would otherwise have been flat and homogeneous. The word itself describes an irregular, clumsy form without function that often appears like an outgrowth, a misgrowth, as the unexpected, unwanted exception.

For many of us, the knöl is closely associated with the body and especially with its diseases. The Knöl can be a cancerous tumour, an abscess, a bump, a sty or perhaps simply a birthmark. But in many ways you can also say that the whole body is lumpy in itself. In its refusal to fit within our efforts to systematize and categorize anything and everything we see.

Others think first of the natural nature, of gnarled tree trunks, rocks, fungi, roots or potatoes. Nature is a context where the knöl actually has a somewhat accepted place. For  nature is expected to possess precisely those lumpy, organic and living qualities that we so often deny ourselves. As long as nature stays within its frames and does not interfere with us, it is allowed be as natural as we feel comfortable with.

But if you start looking, you’ll soon notice that the knöl is actually all around us, everywhere, in the middle of everyday life. It could be an old awkward stuffing that has lumped together, a mistake, a blot in the protocol, a really nasty person or that sticky chewing gum under the bus seat. The knöl is present in all that which chafes and disturbs us.

What is it with our longing for flat surfaces and straight lines? What is it about universal templates, clear codes, logical structures and flawless systems that mirage on the horizon? What is it about our desire for pure and streamlined perfection? Is it even possible to achieve such a dream when reality is so full of lumps? The knöl is clinging to us. No matter how we try to get rid of them, more and more are showing up. Even though we try to smooth them out, correct them, detangle and cut off anything that does not fit into our image of how everything should be, there always seems to be something wrong. It seams to glitch.

The knöl is a wordless fear, the looming threat, our worries and your vague undefined anguish. But it is also some kind of hope, a sign of life.