Mannaminne

A visitor stands in silhouette before a wall projection of AI-generated flowers in a dark room, a tall hanging scrim lit with flowers in front and pools of blue, green and orange light on the floor.

An audiovisual clearing in a dark room under Sergels torg, where AI-generated flowers and forest drift across a wall and through hanging scrims.

The empty room: the wide wall projection of red and orange blossoms between two hanging scrims, coloured light spread across the tiled floor.

Mannaminne is made of fleeting film sequences I generated on AI excursions into Hilma af Klint's symbolic world, Tomas Tranströmer's words and our digital memory. It starts from the first line of Tranströmer's poem Gläntan: deep in the forest there is an unexpected clearing that can only be found by someone who has got lost. Working with AI felt much like wandering curiously through a forest, with uncertainty for company. Everything begins with a prompt: a word, a sentence or an image.

A visitor in silhouette stands close to the projection, facing a huge white blossom with a red and blue centre.
Behind a translucent scrim, a visitor's shadow reaches both hands up into a projected flower.
The dark outline of a visitor's head and shoulders against a scrim lit with a pale blossom and fine red veins.
A visitor sits on the floor in front of the wall projection, seen past a scrim, the floor washed in blue and green.
A visitor in profile silhouette stands against a projected orange and white flower with radiating lines.

The room is Superellipsen, a glass-walled space at Plattan, below the Sergel fountain. Visitors walked between the scrims and cast their shadows into the images. The work grew out of Gläntan, a smaller piece for Nonagon earlier in 2021: the same Tranströmer line as a generative audiovisual poem projected between two walls, with generative music by Away From People.

A projected orange blossom on the wall beside a scrim showing the same flower up close.
The room from another angle: the wall projection, a lit scrim and coloured light across the floor, with figures at the far end.
From the passage outside, three hanging scrims glow behind the glass front of Superellipsen, beside a sign with the title in vertical letters.

Mannaminne opened in Superellipsen in November 2021. Stockholms stad, through Norrmalms stadsdelsförvaltning, then commissioned me to extend and develop the work through December, as part of På Sergels torg, and over the darkest days of the year the room turned into Noneon.

Six hanging neon-like LED signs of winding lines, shading from yellow at the top through pink and violet to blue, in a room washed with blue light.

Noneon is a fluorescent creature with a vivid imagination, lightning hair and a fondness for the spectrum of light, whose dreams I brought to life in the room. Six hanging LED signs that look like neon carried winding, branching patterns grown from reaction-diffusion. From December to mid-January the empty dark room became a workshop, a stage and a place for reflection and interaction, with new sound and light works made along the way.

Close view of the signs: glowing cyan, pink and yellow lines curving like coral.
The signs hang inside the glass front, with the lit passage at Plattan visible through them.
A hooded, masked performer plays a Hydrasynth synthesiser in front of three screens of flowing blue, green and red patterns.
A small LED sequin glows violet on a workshop participant's shirt, the neon-like signs behind.

Anton Ingvarsson's music played through the exhibition, and musicians performed in the room: Anton Ingvarsson and me on 7 December, Francesco Torelli and Per-Olov Jernberg on 6 January, Nikita Dudnik and Jenny Forsgren on 7 January, and Hara Alonso and Torbjörn Fernström on 8 January. On 8 and 9 January Elias Aabjerg and I ran Electrobling, a beginners' workshop in soldering LEDs into small glowing accessories, with the fees donated to Stadsmissionen. Photographs of Mannaminne by Rose Hallgren.

More projects

Jonas Johansson