A studio is witness to the mysteries of creativity; a sacred and very private sort of space. The pictures here bear the traces of that mystery and offer a glimpse inside the shrouded process of creation. Space Magazine editor, Frederik Bjerregaard, discusses the circumstances and good fortune that opened up Mamma Andersson’s habitually hidden studio just before her solo exhibition at David Zwirner this past January.
How did you come across Mamma Andersson? How did you discover her work and why did you want to feature her in issue 2 of Space Magazine?
I met Mamma Andersson when we did the first issue of Space Magazine. The story was about rediscovering a book collection belonging to one of our contributors, art director and curator Greger Ulf Nilson, that had been hidden for a couple of years. He invited all of his friends up for drinks while workmen took down the wall, photographer Mikael Jansson documented it, and I ended up talking to Mamma the whole evening. It was a great experience.
Her polaroids are very special... they seem to have been taken with an old camera: could you explain her process/technique for us?
I don’t think she cares that much about photo techniques nor equipment. She told me that she just did the polaroids because it was the easiest. But as you already know, she normally never lets people into her studio.
“...there is something about studios and spaces in general.”
Yes, she says “When I don’t let people into my studio, it’s because I don’t want them to enter my mind, either.” The studio as a physical but also mental space: isn’t it what your magazine is precisely interested in?
To be completely honest, we didn’t think that much about our magazine concept when it was conceived. I care about photography, my business partner cares about furniture, and we both care about people. Therefore it felt right to do something that involved all this. But finishing issue number two, I must admit that there is something about studios and spaces in general. Now I completely agree with you and Mamma.