Jacob Kirkegaard

Out of my window, I could for a while see a very tall abandoned corn silo formerly used by Carlsberg. Later, they turned it into luxury apartments. But before that, when it was still abandoned, my friend went all the way up to pee all the way down the empty elevator shaft.

The shop as it looked in 1996.

Since April 1996 I have been renting a beautiful little space with two rooms, basement and kitchen in the Vesterbro quarter of Copenhagen. I call it Butikken (The shop) because it's original purpose was to be a shop. I have used it for a lot of things, mainly as workshop and studio for the projects.

Now, on the 1st of April 2009, exactly 13 years after I have decided to give up the place. The main reason for my departure is simply just a sudden rise of rent that I find impossible to afford.

The reason I was given for the rising rent was, that the rent had been too low compared to the 'market' in today's Copenhagen. I have calculated that the rent will rise to the tripple amount, of what I paid before the rise. So there is no way - I have to leave. Not even my friends or colleagues who I've asked, have found the shop worth paying for, with its new price.

And now I live in Berlin anyway. But I have a special love for this little space on Vesterbro. Through the years it has been an important place for my creations and life. The basement was not only used for storing all my tape recorders, 16 mm films and projectors. Sometimes it turned into a little cinema where Anna Meyling and me showed films like the early Opus films (from the 20s) and "Berlin - Die Symphonie der Großstradt" by Walther Ruttmann with free sushi for the audience. The shop was sometimes a gallery space, for example when Bjørn Staal showed his drawings and paintings. Installations have been created there - for example "Words on Wires" for Danish Writers Organization, which I did with Gry Bagøien. And our first vinyl LP "AETER - Luftantenner" was mixed there. The shop was primarily a working space were friends, partners and colleagues met for great dinners while exchanging ideas and developing new projects, or simply just having a cognac, a cigar, a chat or some love! The place has housed countless of stories.

When I moved to Germany the shop remained my Copenhagen base where I would come and work or find peace.
The shop happened to be a really important supportive factor for my career as an artist, because of its cheap rent. When I rented it in 96 this part of Vesterbro was considered as the outskirts and noone went there unless they lived there or rushed by in their noisy car. And it wasn't a particular fancy area either. And that was exactly its advantage. Like every artist starting up his or her career, I needed a cheap space to work. The street was a polluted passerby for cars and trucks. And on the left side of the shop my neighbors were the supporters of some infamous biker's club and behind my kitchen on the other side was the pissoir of an also rather infamous pub. When I ate in the kitchen I could hear the alcoholics piss at the other side of the wall. From the pub people would sometimes literally be thrown out by the neck. They would eventually bump against my big window with a loud thunderous sound. The 'gone' costumers would then sometimes fall asleep in front of my door. Or they would leave the rest of their urine down my shop window. But the good smell from the Carlsberg factory would cover it.
Besides from them, the street housed two automobile shops selling old american cars, there was an a very old hairdresser, a tango studio, a gallery, an old wine saloon and ateliers. Among other artists the wonderful artist Erik Clausen had his atelier just across the street. There was also a 16mm film studio on Vesterfælledvej....
Today, all that is gone. The biker supporters' house has been restored so they had to move to "god knows where", the building housing the ateliers, gallery, tango and film studio was torn down and replaced by a parking lot for the good workers of the so-called Wonderful Copenhagen. The old hair dresser is probably gone to another planet and the automobile shops have been replaced by new smart apartments. Even the worn-out street has had new asphalt. Once a huge tiger was painted on the wall. Now it is all white. Even the smell of Carlsberg is disappearing. Morten Meldgaard and I used to enjoy standing in the door at night and gaze at the passing cars in the yellow dusty street light while hearing the wheels on asphalt. A perfect moment for a cigarette. Or at least watching him smoking it.

For some years I was naive enough to think that this development wouldn't hit my own space. It was namely hidden inside a corner! Where they all pissed. But not so long ago I received that letter proclaiming that the shop was way too cheap and that the rent now had to be balanced with the "real" value of what places of this size cost in Copenhagen - nowadays. The rent is rising 200 %.

Well well well, I am just being nostalgic. I'm not better than Søren Ulrik Thomsen's nostalgia for the chaos and neon lights Nørreport station.

Still, I am very happy and thankful for the years I could and would afford to rent the shop. I am thankful to the organization of the house who rented it to me.
There is nothing to cry about. It's been great to rent that place. Hopefully the organization will find someone after me, who can, or is willing to pay what it takes to have a space in an increasingly smarter area of Copenhagen.

Many people know the street of Vesterfælledvej only as a passerby. But I am sure that the folks who have lived or hung out there for some time, know damn well about it's charm.

But where went the tiger?

Hopefully not to the zoo.

The building that housed the ateliers, tango studio etc is being demolished. Gry is having a cigarette while looking at the ruins..

A test set-up of the installation "Words on Wires" that Laura Winge later beautifully documented.

Tobias Kirstein & Sune TB during our many rehearsals in the basement.

The Pingvin Orchestra rehearsing for the late night galla show "1/2 Pingvin med Pomfritter" (Knud Grumløse, Helena Berglund, Jesper Lund, Adele Jannson and Ole Reimer)

Bjørn Staal mounting his drawings

Gry & Jacob during the creation of Words on Wires...

JK in front of the shop in 1997 or 98..

In February I had the great pleasure to present LABYRINTHITIS and other new works at the Fundación Ludwig (which is the Cuban branch of the big Museum Ludwig in Cologne, Germany).
It was my second visit to the place; During my 1st visit last year I presented AION, which resulted in me being kindly invited again. The Danish Arts Council generously supported the project with a travel grant. It gave me the opportunity to once again present my works and to be in dialogue with some of the Havanese art scene. I find the meeting and interactions with the Cuban artists and curators so interesting. Their technical opportunities are naturally more limited compared to Western European standards and their history is of course different as well. Nevertheless, or perhaps exactly because of that, I felt that the meeting isn't only of interest for myself but also for them. My presentations resulted in both serious, paradoxical and fun discussions about art and methods. The director of the Foundation has now invited me back to hold a workshop. I hope it will happen :)