Article in a+u on the work of Carl-Viggo Hølmebakk
The line your architecture defines has taken on many nuanced forms over the years; in some cases, it is not a line anymore. Sometimes it is a smudge or an echo chamber of the concordance between the inside and the outside. A more ambiguous boundary? Or more precise, articulate and finer grained?
The wall of the Mortuary at Asker Crematorium swelled to give space for a sitting area and cherry tree, the bricks separated to let the outside in and the inside out; the raised walkway at the Sohlbergplassen Viewpoint, at Stor-Elvdal undulated around the pine trees reiterating the path of the first visitor, as the rooms dodged the existing surveyed trees in the Summer House Ryssdal. All of these architectural boundaries were defined with a ruler and a compass. Your work of the last 15 years has more complex lines that follow more data points: the steel fence and viewing platform of Vøringsfossen Waterfall Area held flush to the facets of a cliff, the foot bridge follows the erratic topography, projecting between cliffs where the topography falls off. The line between nature and man-made becomes blurred, shared, articulated in the generous bends of steel forming shelves for snow. Like an artist’s smudge of charcoal on a page marks a shadow, the page becomes a receptor of light.