Reykjavik Art Museum: Hafnarhús

My journey through Hafnarhús began with a striking contrast between the building’s rugged industrial exterior and the immersive world within. From the sensory intensity of Jónsi’s FLÓÐ installation to the thought-provoking works in the galleries, the museum offered an unforgettable blend of contemporary art and emotional connection.

My first stop on the Reykjavík Art Museum Walk took me to Hafnarhús, a former harbor warehouse now turned art museum. Located by the old harbor, the museum occupies an industrial style with its exterior still reflecting its utilitarian roots. Large truck bays and street-level doors preserve the original function of this building. The building has a rugged industrial history, but inside, the atmosphere couldn’t be more different. In the center, the building features windows to a courtyard enclosed by white-painted cold steel walls. The museum comprises six galleries that are warmer and more inviting than the courtyard. In the galleries, there are large open spaces with neutral walls that feature works of modern art by local and international artists. 

My visit to Hafnarhús began with an overwhelming rush caused by FLÓÐ, a 25-minute immersive installation by Jónsi, an Icelandic alternative/indie musician. The installation was on the first floor in an area with bays and large pillars. I had heard about the exhibit, and it was suggested by some locals to check it out, but nothing could have prepared me for the full sensory experience. The space could be heard from the lobby entrance. Through two sets of curtain doors, I entered the installation. It was dark and filled with mist. I was immediately consumed in the deep, pulsating soundscape. Nature’s raw sounds—blended with digital processing and Jónsi’s voice—echoed around the room, and the intensity grew, vibrating through my body. It felt as if I was blindfolded at an EDM concert.  

As I stood alone in the dark, the lights flickered and reacted to the changing sounds. I made my way to a pillar that was covered at the base with black sand to represent Iceland’s beaches. Not even three minutes passed and a combination of my overwhelmed senses and me being alone in that room left me in a state of panic. I found myself unable to stay for the full 25-minute duration. I stepped out of the room, eagerly wanting to go to a different gallery. 

I turned my attention to the rest of Hafnarhús. I went to the second floor to the remaining five galleries. The galleries were spacious, giving the works a chance to take more physical and larger areas. I explored the diverse collections of contemporary art, including a permanent collection from the Erró, one of Europe’s most notable pop artists. Erro had an interesting style that reminded me of Jackson Pollock’s, abstract artist in the abstract expressionist movement, style of intentional otherness. Erró’s series Fractured Fairytales features collages made of photographs, drawings, and paintings to form a humous, mocking piece of art that leaves the viewer with space to find meaning in accidental coincidences. I like to think of Fractured Fairytales being made with this intention to be different and challenge the art scene, but it very much could have been a fun project deriving from Erró’s joy of combing nonsensical pieces of art.  

With all the variety of styles and works, I found myself drawn back to Jónsi’s installation. There was something about FLÓÐ that drew me to a deeper connection. I felt as if the sounds, light, and mist continued to linger in my mind. Before leaving the museum, I made my second visit to the installation and stayed for the full 25 minutes. This time, I was prepared for the overwhelming sensation, and the gradual build-up of sound no longer felt like a shock to my senses. Instead, I could appreciate the layered complexity of the piece, the base and flow of sound mimicking the rhythmic rise and fall of the ocean’s tides. For the full 25 minutes I leaned on a pillar with my shoes in the black sand fully engaged with the experience.  

By the end, I felt as though I had been part of something much larger than myself, a reminder of the delicate, shifting balance of nature, as well as the challenges we face with global climate change. FLÓÐ is not simply an art piece; it is an invitation to feel the earth’s changes, to be moved physically and emotionally by the forces shaping our world.