Frozen Reality: Memory, Conservation and Archaeological Findings from our Recent History

"Envelope" is a rather open title. It is just like any envelope that is being dropped into your mailbox. Exciting, sometimes somewhat threathening. Many people are nervous when it comes to envelopes. Personally I fear the white C5 envelopes most, the ones without any return address, normally posted in Trondheim. Usually they contain scary final notice warnings. Well formulated, polite on the surface. A thin layer of humanism covering muscles of steel and merciless methods to get their money. A touch of motorbike gang morale. Give me the money - or else! Saether's invitation and title are just as threathening. You do not know what you are in for as you enter the gallery. You are unprepared, and probably have your guard down. After all, Saether paints cozy, harmless, technically well executed pictures that are easy to read, does he not? (A lot of people seem to think so, but honestly they cannot have studied what his artistry is about very thoroughly.)

The installation "Envelope" consists of three main components: an unpleasant, metallic unrhythmic sound image that every once in a while breaks the silence; a series of four envelopes containing texts; and a series of envelopes containing photographs of the remains of three Palestinian teenage boys after an Israeli military hospital had done its work on them a day late in December last year. All envelopes are waxed in, sealed. That is a double enveloping. But yet we can read the contents. Not clearly, not all available, but enough for us to get an understanding of what they contain without too much effort.

The texts are from the first half of the twentieth century. Saether has chosen four different art manifestoes: the first futurist manifesto (published in Le Figaro in 1909), a dada manifesto, a manifesto signed Artaud, and a Bauhaus manifesto. They are put in brown standard envelopes, size C3, dipped in wax and hung on a stringent, rhythmical row on one of the gallery walls. Almost like a minimalist painting. Their militant voices herald the coming of a new time, a new society and a new life for modern man. The utopian vision is to be realized by employing new technology and industry. All means are allowed. Burn the libraries! New houses for each new generation! Streamline mankind! And if they do not willingly adhere to this, they shall be forced to do so. The manifestoes are all rather brutal. In the corner to the right of these envelopes stands an unfolded yardstick. It is a stringent element that further emphasizes the contents in the texts.

The next wall is a sad view. A terrible view. Do we have the strength to see? Should we see? Do we have the right to see? Do we have the right not to see? These are questions that naturally arise when looking at these three maimed bodies. The next question is: How can any civilized human being do this to another person, ? or even to a dead person? Whether they died before this obnoxious abuse took place or not, I do not know. Anyhow the act is so cruel that it is beyond any understanding.
    The photographies of the three boy corpses constituting the main subject in this piece, "This is my body", have been cut into pieces and put together again in an asymmetrical composition. Immediately, before the eye understands what one is looking at, it might look like a Byzantine icon. This is not an unexpected interpretation, considering Saether's personal position. Saether is religious, a Christian gnostic, and he has worked as a priest in the Ecclesia Gnostica for the last twelve years, in addition to his work as an artist. Throughout his career he has sought to find a way to express spiritual wisdom in his pictures that all contain references to religion and its stories. In "This is my body" our brutal reality is transformed and sublimated. The boys become icons. Tenderly wrapped in specially made envelopes. Waxed in. We shall not forget this. We must not forget this. But we must not forget the beauty either. The images are a strong, high pitched and respectful epitaph for all victims of armed conflicts. For all who have been, are, and will be exposed to such cruel injustice. In between the envelopes with photographs are other envelopes containing small, cartoon like images of tanks, helicopters and television sets, equipped with speech bubbles. The trivial everyday life and the lives of the soldiers who at all times are called upon to serve their country. Thoughts going through the head: It will be great with a shower! Where the hell are my mints? And the little bubble above the tv saying: This is my body! An important key note to understanding the exhibition.

The third main element, the sound, is a coin falling on a hard, concrete floor. Uneven intervals and a high volume make the experience almost painful. A small waxed money bag, discretely placed on the floor, leaning on a wall, gives an indication of what one hears. Saether never gives us the whole story. He lays out tracks, points in the direction of what he wants to say with titles, and weaves the pieces together by using symbols he has developed through a long time. The continuity in his artistship is strong. Neutral objects, containers, cardboard boxes, paper bags, envelopes, wrapped in little bags - with and without a content.