Leif Elggren. Photo: Annika von Hausswolff (1990)

Håkan Nilsson, Merge, is looking for another kind of logic than the history of art - or the questioning of the same - offers. He went to see artist Leif Elggren who is one of the two Kings of Elgaland-Vargaland and deeply involved with Queen Kristina. Regarding his artistic CV it just makes sense that he also has abolished death. by Håkan Nilsson, Merge #3, 1998

"I think everybody should be a machine. I think everybody should like everybody." "Is that what Pop Art is all about?" "Yes, it's liking things." Andy Warhol in an interview with Gene Swenson Almost forty years have gone by since monolithic Modernism reached its logical fate and exploded from within. At the time, it seemed like this had created an endless number of possibilities: the art scene happened and in came Pop Art, Minimalism, Happenings or what have you. Controlled patriarchal monogamy was replaced by what one might call promiscuity: everything was allowed, everything was possible, and love conquered new ground every day. But it was a certain kind of love, the kind that was only generous as long as it was gaining ground, as long as it was winning. I am now convinced that this is not true love. This is the kind of love the young Nietzsche described as the relationship between a lover and a beloved: "The more the one of the two grabs, the less remains of the other person." How true. Who, then, was the beloved of the art scene? Was it Modernism? Or was it art? History makes certain things possible and other things impossible. History excuses certain actions and condemns others. The (hi)story of art is convincing and its logic inexorable. Even questioning the history of art is part of its almost perverse self-examination, leading to an impenetrable cluster of problems, which makes it an impregnable castle. I needed another kind of logic. I needed to see if generosity could reverse this logic or at least just make it stop. I went to see artist Leif Elggren, whose nomadic movements in and out various art scenes have been so consistent that none of my tools for interpretation seemed to be of any help. Tin can crown, multiple by Leif Elggren (1994) Leif Elggren is a cooperative person. He founded the dual kingdom of Elgaland-Vargaland together with Carl Michael von Hausswolff. Elggren and Kent Tankred make up the core of the performance/electronic composition group Sons of God. Together with Tomas Liljenberg, Elggren runs the publishing company Firework Edition, whose publications include collaborative books such as Experiment with Dreams. But he has also accomplished an enormous number of solo projects since the seventies, ranging from sound experiments such as the recent Talking to a Dead Queen (also produced as a CD) to printed matter and solo exhibitions. Although his many projects can differ substantially from each other, they also have one thing in common-Elggren questions power. But he doesn't scrutinize it, and he is seldom ironic about it either. It is rather a question of trying to empower people by showing them that their lives are as important as anybody else's. We were talking about the different centers of the art world when Elggren remarked that the attention a place or an art scene receives is comparable to the religious shrines of the world. Isn't this a comparison of art with the institutions of religion, rather than seeing art as a substitute for religion itself? Elggren answered: "But this is far more interesting. The clergymen have more power than God does. Jesus said that you should go to your chamber and pray, but it didn't turn out that way. I am upset about the fact that clergymen have a monopoly over mankind's inner life. Religion carries an enormous power, and it is based on the certainty that we all are mortal." Elggren has consistently dealt with themes such as mental and worldly powers. In fact, one of the first things Elgaland-Vargaland did was to abolish death (the country's passport clearly states "The bearer of this passport is immortal!"). Experiment with Dreams is an attempt to use Elggren's and Liljenberg's dreams as if they were real. As is the case with many mutual projects, they also question the logic of the individual subject: sometimes they sign the letters with their own names, sometime with pseudonyms like Nietzsche, and sometimes with amalgamated names such as Liljengren or Elgberg. They claim that they both dreamed that they had had a child with Cindy Crawford ten years ago, and so they write her a letter demanding alimony. They write to various multinational businesses, accusing them of profiting from inventions that they dreamed up years ago and demand a percentage of the profits. By using a logic of his own, Elggren (and whomever he works with) questions the logic of reality. But he also works with the manifestations of power in the real world, such as the power of royalty, where seventeenth-century Queen Kristina of Sweden takes a central position. "Queen Kristina is a special case in many ways, not only because of the fact that she was a woman. As daughter of King Gustavus Adolfus, the great warrior who slaughtered Catholics for decades, her decision to abdicate, convert to Catholicism and move to Rome was quite remarkable. By doing so, she broke with all the courses of action predestined for her, and took, or so it seemed, control over her life. Which is not to say that she renounced all claims to worldly power. On the contrary, she was involved in a high-level plot to become Queen of Naples." Elggren not only works with royals, he is one himself. In 1992, he and Carl Michael von Hausswolff proclaimed the dual kingdom of Elgaland-Vargaland, and thus made themselves kings. But how does this fit with the apparently contradictory goal of making everyone aware of their own rights? Wouldn't the title of presidents be a more democratic touch? "There was never any doubt on that point. King is, after all, the most emotionally charged term. It is almost like claiming to be someone's father. But it is also silly. It is silly and pompous to be king. I think of the turn of the century Swedish artist Ernst Josephson, who used to dress in morning coat and fez and march in front of the Royal Guards. This silliness also reflects the pretentiousness of an artist, which doesn't mean that you shouldn't be pretentious. You should. It is the same thing with the Sons of God. When we collaborate with women artists in our setting, we usually call ourselves The Sons and Daughters of God. Anyway, the whole thing is an attempt to take control over these gigantic values. They are our values too, you know. And yours." King Leif I´s personal Elgaland-Vargaland passport (1993). The Sons of God is both an experimental electronic music group and a performance constellation. This side of Elggren's work is less known to the art world but it is nonetheless equally important. In contrast to other exhibitions and long-term projects like Elgaland-Vargaland, these performances use another type of strategy. "I guess you could say that Elgaland-Vargaland is an intellectual art work, which functions as a model that inspires and empowers people to act. Performances direct themselves to another part of the consciousness, which hopefully makes people aware of their own physical existence. The major difference between a performance and a work like Elgaland-Vargaland is that the latter allows for another form of survey. Hence, it lacks this feeling of the moment that you get in a performance. Elgaland-Vargaland is strategic, but in a performance you are out in the field. You dig around and you end up somewhere you could never imagine. In fact, it was performances that led me into the field of sound in the first place. Sound became a companion in the enhancement of phenomenona and moods." But why did you, as a visual artist, start to work with performances? "You could say that back in the early eighties, I repudiated the visual image and stepped into the image myself. With the performances and the sounds, I felt that I could relate to the bodies of the beholders in a more explicit way. I wasn't pleased with the results of the two-dimensional image. It felt meager and limiting. Since I want to involve as much as possible in my art, I don't think anything is uninteresting. It's very much a question of transgressing the boundary between everyday life and art. I see no reason for such a distinction." Does the use of the body mean that you get more direct contact with the beholder? "It depends on what you mean. To me, it has been a more direct way of working; it shortens the distance between the artist and the beholder. But I don't believe that this means that the artist's intention is any less obscure, why should it be? It's just another strategy; performances contain other possibilities than visual art does." I find the entire notion of "directness" problematic. I mean, when you see a performance, you are aware of the situation and aware that things will happen, and this creates a distance between the artist and the audience similar to what you find at the theater. "I have sometimes tried to act outside that kind of context. The important thing to me is that something is done and not where it's done. But there is a problem with the "framework." You mentioned the theater, which I think contains completely idiotic scenarios like when the actors on stage are talking about the most private things and pretending that there isn't a crowd of hundreds of people listening. The audience is bound by a secret contract, becoming more or less voluntary peeping toms." The difference between sound and visual art is not only a question of expressions. It is also a question of infrastructure. The visual arts with their art schools, galleries, art critics and museums form a solid structure that lends recognition to certain artists, even outside their own fields. The sound/music scene with its structure of different labels does not function in the same way. Since a smaller number of CDs can suffice to guarantee continuity, it is easy to start a new label if the existing structure does not fit your purposes. Am I romanticizing? Leif Elggren thinks so. "It depends on what level you are comparing. It is, after all, better to be on certain record labels than others. There is no way around orthodoxies. And if you look at the big new music stores, they just get bigger. There is still no diversity. The problem is not the gallery structure, but to find something similar to an independent scene that counts. The dilemma is to find a way to do what you want to do, and at the same time get recognition. I know that some people think that graphic art could do the trick, but I don't believe so-it is too bound by tradition. When something is as stuck in tradition as graphic art, with its artists, art crowd and buyers, then it is over. Tradition is strong, it forms a closed structure. It's the same thing with classical, notated music. There are so many composers who sit in their rooms and write music, and an equal amount of orchestras that play their violins for a specific and large enough audience. All of this is surrounded by an infrastructure, which makes sure that there are enough grants to finance the composers who give work to the violinists. And everyone gains legitimation by the tradition of classical music. Since people know that Beethoven was an important figure, they believe that anyone who works in his tradition is also important. I've seen so many electronic composers who have started to write this kind of music, only for the money. And although I can understand that argument, I could not see myself in that position. If something is to be re-conquered, like graphic art or notated music, you have to come from someplace else. The regular track will not do. I think that forms of expression based in such long traditions are the most difficult things to handle. If you want to use them, you have to make your perspective on that tradition clear. I would never take up painting. But I do believe in printed matter in all its variations, even magazines. To some extent, this structure is already changing: I always like the museum shop or the café better than the actual museum." Leif Elggren talks to a dead Queen, uses his dreams, and abolishes death. But all these actions should be understood as attempts, attempts to be a forerunner, attempts to test what is possible, attempts to reverse the logic of power. But this was not always so. Some ten years ago he also worked with mysticism in a more direct manner, with numerology and the four elements. These attempts were related to a much more private sphere. "Working with numbers was another way of approaching the infinite. I think of that work as the precursor for what we have been talking about: kings, God and immortality. Elgaland-Vargaland has abolished death, something that used to be the monopoly of religion. Just think of what a success religion has been! I want to be a part of something that makes death a smaller problem than what it is, so that it will not constrain our lives as much. A promise. It's very much the opposite position to that of the monk, who abolishes death by living on the other side from the very beginning. I find that so destructive. You should not give up your worldly existence, you should let it flower. Life is not payment against a debt." "There are many who have tried to accomplish your goal of reaching the infinite through drugs," I reply Elggren concludes, "Drugs are short-lived. And you have to pay dearly. I'm trying to find a more sustainable and decisive solution."~