On the Photography of Björn Valdimarsson

I find the world of decaying and ageing man-made things to be beautiful and magical, and it has a mood that you cannot find elsewhere. Through the years I've been making photos of these old things and structures, some of them are waiting to be rebuilt and some ageing, but still in use. Other waiting to be apart of the nature again.

Before considering the photography of Björn Valdimarsson, Google “Iceland, images” for an immersive array of northern lights, mirroring waterways, hot springs, and Tolkienized landscapes. Seemingly, Iceland is a land of the photogenic spectacular, an environ that appears organized for the film frame and beckons the camera at every craggy inlet, mountain range, and treeless expanse of tundra. The generic picaresque or postcard picture once dominating the photographic habits of the vacationer is now diluted by the immediacy of social media via the democratic technologies that have transformed our telephone into both camera and cinema. The nature photograph, or any photograph taken outdoors anywhere, once required both technical considerations and quick aesthetic decisions. The work of Valdimarsson differs from the casually touristic; for one, the photographer is an insider to the domestic life and to the acquired visual pleasures that signal themselves from the remote villages and challenging journeys in the north of the island. A visit to his website is necessary to experience the images in color and to visit the many complete series operating as a form of armchair travel as we are introduced to his world. A sense of hospitality prevails. The interiors where his circle of friends gathers and works are warm but sparsely appointed. One image of a bearded man pulling an Emerson, Lake, and Palmer (long forgotten 70's progrock avatars) LP off the shelf illustrates my personal belief that some photographs are accompanied by soundtracks of their own making. What do we hear in Valdimarsson's work in the landscape? On