Kling & Bang Collective

What rich subject matter art collectives have always made. Folks do not seem to be able to get enough of them. Maybe it is because when one floats into the public consciousness, it invariably flirts to promise all that the culture cognoscenti lasciviously desire: ideological confidence, ethical solidarity and novel perspective proffered on a gilded tray for covetous perusal.

Whatever the case, collectives are a perennial of popular fascination and such enthusiasm is as potent now as it has ever been. To confirm this (and this is an experiment you can carry out yourself) one would only have to whisper the word Onedotzero* to a roll-necked Audi driver, to see him collapse in shuddering bolts of dampened ecstasy.

Furthermore, the internet is now conspicuously awash with a sea of similar creative groupings - and it is amongst this flotsam that we find Kling & Bang. For 5 years, it has bobbed there happily, glinting and sparkling a little more beautifully than was ever expected of it. Kling & Bang, you see, is a genuine rarity; an important art collective. Its significance, however, is based on quite an unusual characteristic. Where The Factory promised sex and controversy and Onedotzero alludes to progress, Kling & Bang offers fun.

Tucked away in a stark white gallery in Reykjavik, this group has spent the past half-decade orchestrating some of Iceland’s most joyous art exhibitions. In 2008 alone, it offered 3 clear examples for this. Certainly, the “Sirkus Project” should be well noted. Those in the know will remember Sirkus as the former social hub of Iceland’s art scene - a small bar with an infamous reputation (indeed, it used to be said that “those who don’t go to rehab go to Sirkus”). Then, on a sad winter’s day in January ’08, the bar was torn asunder. Coincidently, Kling & Bang had just been invited to exhibit at London’s Frieze Art Fair (which receives over 50,000 visitors annually) but had been stumped by the realisation that they could never be the sort of group that “just brings a few art works to London”. Then with a fit of inspiration and realising that “some ideas are just too good not to be done”, Kling & Bang set to the streets to scavenge for every last disintegrated shred of the bar’s remains. Once this task was complete, it became very clear that it would be “ridiculous to take an entire building to an art fair”; so, wasting no time at all, the collective quickly made the appropriate arrangements to take an entire building to an art fair. The project concluded spectacularly, with the bar being rebuilt piece-by-piece in Regent’s Park and then partied in until the team were reduced to a wibbly mess.

Next, one might turn their attention to October’s Trommusólo; a Lortur (another Reykjavik collective) show hosted by Kling & Bang. The exhibition was epic – a 19 day extravaganza centred around a drum solo. This in itself is pretty impressive, but is made infinitely merrier when one considers that audience members were actively encouraged to add their own rolls, drag-taps and paradiddles.

Then finally, in November, came their collaborative show with Berlin’s Torstrasse 111. For the entire month, Kling & Bang hosted the return leg of this creative exchange (one that started in Germany a year previously); using a disco-ball as a territory defining pennant. The resultant experience was, indeed, (and there really is only one word fit for purpose) fabulous.

It is safe to summarise that, in 2008, Kling & Bang made their brand very clear. The only question that really remained was: what would the group do in 2009? It is undoubted that there are people all across Europe (including myself) that will be hopping from foot to foot, just waiting to get their next dose. However, we cannot expect an estimated time of arrival in response to our when-will-we-get-theres. Kling & Bang just do not work in that way- plans for 2009 are foggy at best. The gallery website offers only a couple of confirmed dates, but nothing more; certainly no hints of anything dramatic.

Before plunging head first into the Sirkus project, collective member Kristján Björn Thórdarson reflected that “we don’t know what will happen and the lack of absolute control is the energy of the whole thing”. This attitude is still very much intact and so it seems that the next big project must come as a complete surprise – both to its loyal fans and probably its organisers too. How wonderful.

*  a collective almost entirely composed of cinematic visionaries - Spike Jonze, Chris Cunningham and Michel Gondry having all participated