Greetings from Stöðvarfjörður, in the east of Iceland—or Austurland, as the locals call it. This tiny town has fewer than 200 residents. In 2005, the town’s main source of jobs, its fish processing plant was permanently shuttered, having previously been acquired by a large multinational company that gradually consolidated most of Iceland’s fish processing into a few mega-facilities. The collateral collapse closed down the town’s only supermarket, bank and post office.
Changes in the weather come quickly here
In 2011, the dilapidated 2800 square meter factory was saved from demolition by a non-profit organization formed to purchase the building and refurbish it as a regional cultural center, with the ultimate goal of attracting new jobs, residents and energy to this remote and hard-hit burg.
Over the ensuing years, volunteer workers have transformed a large portion of the facility into well-equipped art making spaces, including a wood shop, metal shop, print shop, a phenomenal analog recording studio (opened last year; already 12 albums produced), a performance hall, and lots of flexible-use studios. Under the administration of only three employees (Una, Vinny, and Rosa—currently on leave) and while the Sisyphean work on the building continues, the Fish Factory now hosts an international multi-media artists’ residency. To date, over 200 creators, up to seven at a time, have spent between one to six months living in one of two nearby rented houses taking advantage of the concentrated focus allowed by such a remote facility, their determination buoyed by the community of likeminded makers.
Fish Factory, exterior and interiors, repair and disrepair
The past few months have been even quieter than usual in Stöðvarfjörður as the coronavirus ground global travel to a virtual halt. Its only through some hail mary finagling and charming correspondence with the Icelandic government that I’ve managed to show up for the month I was accepted. I’m sharing one of the two houses (even now, many folks have cancelled or postponed their residencies) with a Reykjavik-based troupe of four acrobats: Joakim, Eyrun and Bryna are all Icelandic natives; Tom has been in Iceland for a few years, but was raised in Hawaii and spent a number of years in Senegal. In addition to acrobatizing, Joakim bakes sourdough bread that’s altogether up to San Francisco standards.
There is a single shop/café in town. And there is an alleged museum, which is actually one lady’s rock collection along with memorabilia from her rock collecting life. No scholars have been spotted doing research in the archives; but the museum is included in every single guide to East Iceland tourism that I’ve come across, in print and online. Which just goes to show you the need for culture that the Fish Factory is beginning to address. A concert series that Vinny produces in the performance space draws hungry audiences from as far as 100 miles away.
That’s a little more than the distance to Eglisstadir, where I flew in on Thursday. Vinny picked me up and escorted me to a Bonus Supermarket where I picked up a couple weeks worth of supplies. I jumped into my writing on Friday and Saturday, sequestering myself in a cozy factory room with couches and dim lighting. Today I began what I hope will be my daily routine of focused writing from 8:30 am to 1 pm, followed by a couple hours’ break and then a couple hours of further writing/revising/editing over the rest of the day, along with exercise, reading, dinner, correspondence, chatter, etc. The acrobats drove themselves here from Reykjavik (9 hours), so I’ m hoping I’ll be able to horn in on a few regional field trips over the course of the next 3 1/2 weeks. Wanting to get into my work, I passed on a Saturday outing to a disc golf course and swimming pool about an hour from here, but that evening I did join the acros for a beer at the nearest bar. Which is 20 minutes away via tortuous, ill-lit highway. The shoulder must be watched with a careful eye, as squat and burly sheep tend to mill around the guard rails.
And with that, I’ll raise a shot of Opal (licorice/eucalyptus flavor; eminently skippable) and be off.
My newsletter schedule is proving a bit wobbly. But 2x weekly remains the plan. Please ask any questions you have in the comments section and I’ll do my best to respond, either directly or within my posts. More photos below…
