Ragnar Kjartansson & The All Star Band - The Visitors album flac

As with most of Ragnar Kjartansson’s performances and artworks, music and creative collaboration with his friends also play a crucial role in ‘The Visitors’. The work’s kernel is a text by the artist Ásdís Sif Gunnarsdóttir, which Kjartansson has assembled from performances of hers and written music to along with Davíð Þór Jónsson.

Ragnar Kjartansson () (born 1976) is a contemporary Icelandic artist who engages multiple artistic mediums throughout his performative practice. His works are connected through their pathos and humor, with each deeply influenced by the comedy and tragedy of classical theater.

Ragnar Kjartansson, The Visitors sheet music, 2012. Ink and watercolor on paper. 16 1/2 x 23 inches (4. x 5. cm). Courtesy the artist, Luhring Augustine, New York, and i8 Gallery, Reykjavik. Photo by Charles Mayer Photography. The title alludes to the 1981 album of the same name from Swedish pop band ABBA, the group’s last record to date, as divorce and internal strife ended their professional and personal relationships. Through its unique arrangement of music in space, The Visitors creates a layered portrait of the house and its musical inhabitants.

Courtesy Ragnar Kjartansson. Photo: Elisabet Davids. 2/8. Still from 'The Visitors'. Courtesy Ragnar Kjartansson. 3/8. 4/8. 5/8. 6/8. 7/8. Courtesy Ragnar Kjartansson

A folk revue of sorts, Kjartnasson assembled the cream of Iceland’s music scene for an evening that included live music from Kjartansson and his All Star Band, iconic múm vocalist Kristin Anna – who will release her album HOWL through the label – and new songs composed by former Sigur Rós keyboardist Kjartan Sveinsson. There was also a performance of his own one-act punk opera Krieg (of which there are four forthcoming performances). Photos by Graeme Vaughan for The Vinyl Factory.

Ragnar Kjartansson, The Visitors (2012), video still from nine-channel HD video projection (all images courtesy the artist and Luhring Augustine, New York). Behind a curtain in the darkened gallery space at Luhring Augustine nine screens, each equipped with its own speaker have been arranged into two somewhat discreet areas. Eight of the screens feature the image of a single musician - a guitarist, pianist, banjo player, cellist, and so forth - and one screen offers a view of the porch of a large house where other instrumentalists, singers and assorted folks have gathered