Sketch for 360° compass, 2009

Bound together by our need to navigate: we're all a bit lost, we're all on the way

Trust compass, 2013 - Photo: Jens Ziehe, 2013
The cubic compass rock, 2007 - Studio Olafur Eliasson, 2007 - Photo: Jens Ziehe
Hemisphere compass, 2011 - Photo: Jens Ziehe, 2011
Motional city map, 2010
The movement meter for Lernacken, 2000 - Malmö, Sweden, 2000 - Photo: Jan Engsmar
The movement meter for Lernacken, 2000 - Malmö, Sweden, 2011 – 2000 - Photo: Thilo Frank / Studio Olafur Eliasson
Empathy compass, 2011 - Photo: Jens Ziehe, 2011
Five orientation lights, 1999 - Galleria Continua, San Gimignano, Italy, 1999 - Photo: Olafur Eliasson
Sketch for Five orientation lights, 1999
The lighthouse series, 1999 - The Menil Collection, Houston, 2004 – 1999 - Photo: Oren Slor
Colour experiment no. 60

Now: Turner colour experiments on view at Tate Britain

"I have always been interested in the idea that abstraction can be welcoming; Turner’s palette, which he formulated according to the hues of the natural world, is very recognisable. I was keen to explore this type of abstract matter, which, at the same time, feels familiar. It seemed like a natural step to begin an experimental study by abstracting the prismatic colours of Turner’s palette and filtering them into a new, utopian colour theory. It is within our sense of abstraction that we are able to re-evaluate our sense of presence."



Olafur Eliasson on J. M. W. Turner

Colour experiment no. 59, 2014 - Photo: Jens Ziehe, 2014
Colour experiment no. 61, 2014 - Photo: Jens Ziehe, 2014
Image used on Blog post '126' (from S3)
No nights in summer, no days in winter, 1994 - Forumgalleriet, Malmö, 1994 - Photo: Flemming Brusgaard

Now: No nights in summer, no days in winter, 1994, at the Gwangju Biennale
On view until 9 November

No nights in summer, no days in winter, 1994 - Forumgalleriet, Malmö, 1994 - Photo: Flemming Brusgaard
Image used on Blog post '124' (from S3)

View from the studio: Turner colour experiments in progress

Image used on Blog post '124' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '124' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '124' (from S3)
Inverted campfire series, 2006 - i8, Reykjavik, 2009 – 2006 - Photo: Vigfus Birgisson

Active memory: from the burning archive

Iceland series #73, 2002
Your perfect lovers, 2005 - Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York, 2005
Image used on Blog post '123' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '122' (from S3)
Contact is content, 2014

Preview of Contact is content, 2014, on view as part of Riverbed at Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Denmark

Your uncertain archive, 2014

Your uncertain archive!: drift, explore, connect – embrace uncertainty

"I wanted the chance to allow for a higher degree of negotiability, and also that little bit of discomfort in being slightly lost sometimes. Not too lost but lost in the sense of having to work a little harder to find your path.... We're so used to commodified home pages, everything is about predictability, in order to make people feel safe."

Olafur Eliasson on Your uncertain archive.

Image used on Blog post '118' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '117' (from S3)

Movement microscope, 2011, on view as part of Riverbed, at Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Denmark

Movement microscope, a film by Olafur Eliasson, depicts a normal day at Studio Olafur Eliasson, with one major difference: Eliasson invited 'movement specialists' (street performers, mimes, dancers) to come perform a kind of spatio-temporal intervention throughout the studio during the work day.
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Movement microscope is now on view as part of Riverbed, at Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Denmark, until 4 January, 2015.



Watch the film online here:

Image used on Blog post '117' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '117' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '116' (from S3)

View from the studio

View through Olafur Eliasson's Know-how kaleidoscope, 2014, Kabelparken, Copenhagen

View of Know-how kaleidoscopes, 2014, Kabelparken, Copenhagen
Video: Bo Tengberg

Image used on Blog post '114' (from S3)

Now: Know-how kaleidoscopes, 2014, Kabelparken, Copenhagen

Image used on Blog post '114' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '113' (from S3)

Now: Gravity stairs, 2014, on view at Leeum, Samsung Museum of Art, Seoul, South Korea until 28 December

Image used on Blog post '113' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '112' (from S3)

How does it feel to keep balance?
How does it feel to lose it?

Image used on Blog post '112' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '111' (from S3)

Model room, 2003, now on view at Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Denmark

Ping-pong on the façade of the Harpa Reykjavik Concert Hall

Ping-pong on the façade of the Harpa Reykjavik Concert Hall

Riverbed, 2014 - Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebæk, Denmark, 2014 - Photo: Anders Sune Berg

Riverbed is now open at Louisiana, Museum of Modern Art, Denmark

Riverbed, 2014 - Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebæk, Denmark, 2014 - Photo: Anders Sune Berg
Image used on Blog post '107' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '106' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '104' (from S3)

Astrolafur: anti-gravity dance

Model for a timeless garden, 2011 – A film by Tomas Gislason

Active memory: from the anti-gravity archive

Excerpt from: Your Gravitational Now



Originally published in David Featherstone and Joe Painter, eds.,
Spatial Politics: Essays for Doreen Massey (Chichester, 2013), pp.125–32.



Imagine standing on the vast banks of black sand just south of Vatnajökull,
the largest glacier in Iceland, looking northwards onto the tip of Skeidarárjökull,
one of its glacier tongues. From this particular point, the wide glacier takes up
a large part of the horizon, and its gravel- and ash-covered nose sprawls into an
ungraspable mass. Abstraction and impalpability pervade, filtered through your
here-and-now body. Standing right in front of the glacier, you may first begin to
feel a degree of intimacy and familiarity. The experience of proceeding onto the
glacier itself is a moment of intense physical drama. Pressurised by the mass
of ice, a sub-glacial water current causes the otherwise dry black sand right in
front of the tongue to undulate like a fatigued trampoline. Cautiously trying to
cross the few yards of billowing sandy surface to the glacier itself, you develop
a funny, anti-gravity-like gait – a bit like moon-walking. Hoping to defy physics,
you make yourself light, distribute your weight as evenly as possible, heart
pounding. Quicksand below threatens to pull you in.

The inverted verge, 2003 - Galleria Emi Fontana, Milan, 2003 - Photo: Roberto Marossi
Teaser for Riverbed, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebæk, Denmark - Photo: Studio Olafur Eliasson
Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)

‘Contact is content is a visual narrative that takes you up close and far away, that asks you to turn around, to look at the landscape anew, to look at yourself. As the material came together, content arose through contact between landscapes and artworks, bodies and weather conditions, light and relative darkness.’

Olafur Eliasson

Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '79' (from S3)
Image used on Blog post '78' (from S3)
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