Sigrún Gyða
9 APRIL 2025
An artist from Reykjavik. Alongside her sensitivity to nature, she explores the connection between gender and climate change. Her works include installations, sculptures, objects, performances, and always music
An artist from Reykjavik. Alongside her sensitivity to nature, she explores the connection between gender and climate change. Her works include installations, sculptures, objects, performances, and always music
Lately, I’ve been working on a project exploring the connection between gender and climate change—how they influence each other. For example, women do not hold the same positions of power as men when it comes to decision-making related to climate issues. Yet, climate change affects women more directly.
Ultimately, we need to stop deepening divisions and start having conversations to resolve problems and disagreements. That’s exactly what I explore in my latest work. In a way, I tell my own stories and the stories of those around me through my performances. I also enjoy exploring the theme of time.
Ultimately, we need to stop deepening divisions and start having conversations to resolve problems and disagreements. That’s exactly what I explore in my latest work. In a way, I tell my own stories and the stories of those around me through my performances. I also enjoy exploring the theme of time.
What themes and ideas can be seen in your work?
What is your professional background?
I graduated from an institute of Fine Arts & Design, and I have also traveled extensively, participating in several residencies, such as in Brighton, UK, and Sweden. These experiences allowed me to see how different communities and their members interact with each other—it's a valuable experience, and there’s a lot to learn from it.
I was born in Reykjavík. I spent the first part of my life in the countryside, which explains a lot about how I feel about nature. Here in Clermont, I also feel very comfortable, being surrounded by mountains and nature. I came here for an art residency, but I’ve been living in the Netherlands for almost six years.
Tell us about yourself
Skjóta, 2024 (life opera performance and an installation)
The creative process for me mostly happens while experiencing everyday situations that I then bring into the studio. I mostly write down ideas and fun phrases on my phone but I also always have a sketchbook with me. It is funny how you always go through the same agony while creating a new work or an exhibition. It’s like travelling in a landscape with mountains of glory and valleys of despair. I think my favorite part is the moment when you feel like every part makes sense and has a link within the work, a bit like a fishing net or an endless mind map. That is the highest pleasure of the creation.
What is your favourite part of the creative process?
I’ve been involved in music my whole life—first violin, then electronic music and singing. Now, I blend opera with experimental music. I also work with sculpture and installations, weaving music through performances. Sound is always present in my work. I love wood, metal, concrete, and textiles! Sometimes I also create objects.
What mediums do you work with?
Well, you know, time has an existential significance. I actually think that life is, in some way, like football: the first half is life, the second half is death, and the time in between—halftime—is our actual life. And so I reflect on it: What do we manage to accomplish in this time? What do we do with it?
Time? What do you mean?
Mid, time of the foresighted silence, 2024 (film)
In June 2024, I premiered my opera Skjóta during a solo exhibition in Reykjavík. It’s a 90-minute piece about football and climate change—my biggest project so far. I composed, directed, and performed in it, together with six instrumentalists, two singers. I had huge support from an incredible team of artists.
Which of your works are the most significant to you?
I want to create art that makes people feel — art with a story, something real that others can connect to. If one person is emotionally affected by my work then I am happy because I left something with them. I want to create contrasts that put everyday situations into a new perspective.
What makes art successful or important?
Right now, I’m very inspired by performance artist Lina Lapelytė; visual artist and composer Ivan Cheng; visual artist and musician Stina Fors; choreographer and performer Alexis Blake; and filmmakers like Emerald Fennell and Florence Holzinger, who is also a choreographer and performer.
Which artists inspire you the most?
— I want to create art that makes people feel — art with a story, something real that others can connect to.
Draumur Pareidoliu/ Pareidolia's Dream, 2023 (Exhibited at Isafjörõur Art Museum)
If your art were a music track, what would it be?
Pace, pace mio dio! by Maria Callas.
Places in Clermont that you like the most
Artistes en Résidence, of course! It’s a wonderful space in a building with art studios. I also love La Tôlerie—Marie and Tom are amazing people, and the atmosphere is great. As for bars, I really enjoyed Le Grand Écart! The food impressed me—especially the truffade. And the festival was absolutely amazing.
Does France offer support for young artists, and what advice would you give them?
I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice, but I always tell young artists to apply to as many opportunities as they can. Honestly, we spend so much time in the studio just doing applications and paperwork — but it’s totally worth it if you apply to 20 open calls and get into 3!
Doing the opera was definitely one but also graduating from my masters program in Moving image at Sandberg Institute. My graduation work was a small opera about time and stones. About the smallness of humanity and the interconnectedness of everything, comparing human birth to the birth of new erupting magma.
Have there been life-changing moments in your life?
3. Lay my chin in your palm, 2023.
2. Unrealistic feeling, 2023.
- Skjóta, 2024 (installation).
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