Archive 2011

Trondheim is a city on the edge of the world. It is so far out of sight that it spins like a compass around its own center, just as all cities are the sun in their own universe. Trondheim is the city you see from the mountains at the hour when the lights are turned on and in the clear air you can distinguish the residential complex down there: Where in the city it is densest with windows, where it branches off in sparsely lit roads, where it collects garden shadows, where the tower spins around itself and where the river winds like a snake out towards the fjord, where the new glass facades flash with the last rays of the sun. But Trondheim is the name of the city you see from a distance: If you stood in the middle of it, it would be another city. Actually, each of these cities should have its own name. For what is inside, under the surface, behind closed doors, between people, in the open urban spaces - is a completely different city than the one you read about in the newspaper, which you see from the conference hall windows, from the hotel reception, from the cathedral souvenir shop, from the apartments with fjord views or passing by the bypass.

Inside the studios, with moving hands and lowered eyebrows, on the worn benches in the backyards, in the cafes, in the exhibition rooms, at the kitchen tables, - in the rooms that are usually closed - there are conversations that you can hear if you put your ear to the wall. Conversations that imperceptibly affect the whole city and life both inside and far outside.

It is these people - who continue despite the odds against them, those who believe even if others doubt, who doubt where others believe, who rarely make money - but always work, who act according to deep convictions and deep doubts, who balance on the edge, who raises the useless to the top of the flagpole, who concentrates on details others overlook, those who create what sets the mind in motion, makes you feel, challenges you, caresses you, hits you on the edges, rounds off the corners, that makes you laugh, that is deeply serious, that turns the tile, that makes you act instead of stopping, that makes you stop, that makes you study your own gaze, that makes you to think again, that makes you cry, that puts you out, that makes you stretch, that makes you listen, that fascinates you, that twists everything, that makes you twist away, those who do all that silly stuff, who make you shake your head, those who base themselves on other things, those who often are in the forefront, those who do not have defining power - but who often define afterwards.

This is the invisible city. Most of the year, this city is behind closed doors. But a weekend in the month of October, this city opens its doors, the invisible come into view, the part of the city that makes the city whole and life worth living. This whole city should get its own name, this city is also Trondheim.

Sissel M Bergh (with support from Italo Calvino)