Archival Entropy

79 slides with text, carousel projector, inkjet print (83x110 cm)

The National Museum of Iceland, 2016

In the beginning was thick darkness.
My fingers crawled along the rough wall and found the switch.
I pushed it and the fluorescent lights started to flicker.
When they were fully lit, they dipped the room into a cold white glow.
A low, uncomfortable humming vibrated in the stale air.
Before me was a vast space, filled with long rows of mobile archive cabinets.
The floor and the ceiling were painted in an indistinctive colour,
something between violet and grey.
The cabinets were made of matte, green metal.
There was not a single picture anywhere in sight.
All images were hiding in the cabinets.
The empty room emanated blindness.
I had come to find a landscape photograph.
The place I was looking for was a faint memory inside my head.
I needed to refresh that memory by looking at the image of it.
Its colors would be so realistic that I would be carried to the place.
I would feel the warm breeze of the sun
and it would fill me with serenity and peace.
Somewhere in this negative space, the picture was waiting for me to be seen.
On the outside of the cabinets, just above the brown opening wheel, sheets of yellowed paper were hung.
They listed the content of each cabinet.
The places and events, dates and names, sizes and materials created new images in my head.
But none of the words described the image I was looking for.?
My feet made weird, rubbery noises when I walked slowly down the aisle.
I stopped at a cabinet that had no listed content.?
Somehow I felt that this was the right one.?
I opened it by turning the rotary handle.?
My hands were covered with sweaty expectation.?
The filing unit slid slowly sideways, making a complicated sound.?
It was melodic yet annoying and seemed to be coming from the other side of the room.
I looked around to check if I was alone.
At last the cabinet was fully open.?
It revealed a tight aisle with shelves up to the ceiling,?
filled with stacks of paper and film, glass plates and metal sheets,?
all coated with the emulsion that held an image.?
All the beauty of the world was in there.?
There was a perceptible darkness coming towards me from down the slim corridor.
A strange fear was tickling my spine.?
Somewhere in there was the photograph I was looking for.?
I couldn't find a switch or button to light the narrow space.?
The only thing I saw were the edges of the flat surfaces jutting out from the shelves.
It felt as if the images didn't want to be seen.?
They were just teasing me with their existence.?
I took a deep breath and stepped in.?
It felt like diving into a cold lake at night.?
I went down the corridor for what seemed like an eternity,?slowly getting used to the darkness.?
When I turned around, the lit entrance I had come from was as big as my thumb.?
I had to go a little further, my blood pulsating in my ears.
Then I arrived.
I could feel the presence of the picture.
My hands groped into the the stack in front of me,
finally pulling out a large piece of paper.
It was stiff and wavy and smelled of cellar.
I gripped it tight and tried to see.
My gaze moved through the darkness, making out a vague form, but nothing came into focus.
I realized that the image was probably in black and white, at least in the condition it showed itself to me.
It didn't reveal the soothing tone of the sun.
This was the place, I was sure of it; I held it right in my hands.
But I wasn't able to see it.
I felt the vague memory in my head merging with the dark image in front of me, slowly fading into black.
The image sucked up my gaze, deleting my memory.
Panic crawled up my back and I looked up to where I had come from.
The exit was a tiny dot of light.
I doubted that the white glow of the fluorescent light would allow me to see the image in all its splendor.
In fact I doubted the picture would show me anything at all.
I made one last attempt to get to the place I was holding by sticking my hand right onto the image,
hoping it would have, miraculously, become a gateway,?
but my fingers just touched the papery surface.?
I jammed my fist violently into the photograph and destroyed it.
That very moment, the little rest of memory vanished.?
I would never be able to visit the place again.
I tried to run out,?but the the lit hole seemed to shut?and the shelves around me came closer.?Suddenly there was a flash of lightning that illuminated every image around me for the split of a second.?
It was so quick that I didn't see anything at all.?
Then I was swallowed by the darkness.