Karin Hasselberg (2)

 Did you dig holes before?' No. For me it's about digging, not about the hole. I had to dig. And when you dig in the ground, most likely there comes a hole out of it. In a way you could say it's a byproduct of the action.' Traditionaly holes have a purpose. For building, planting etc. In your case the only purpose is in the digging. Still you're left with a hole. 'It has become kind of a point zero. A way for me to find out things about art. And to confront problems in art making. Some problems are really good problems. The problem in itself can be a work. For me it's about art. I did not want to have a hole in the end. So that's why I started digging in water.'That was on the beach?'Yes. On the beach the tide was moving outwards, while I was digging. So there was a big hole there. That was a failure. And then I thought I could study the tide. Watch it and make a timing for my digging. And then it was going in the direction of land art. It was becoming too studied, too planned. So I moved to the lake.' We're getting near the point where holes vanish. Sooner or later, they vanish.'

 I went to see one of the holes in Amsterdam South. Just out of curiosity. A year later. It is grown over and actually I might visit it again.' Did you like it?'I liked it very much. I felt it was mine somehow, that I owned it somehow.'That's a crucial thing. Can you own a hole?'I think I can. A little bit, in a way, claim a little piece of earth. I have noy put a note up there and I haven't declared it.... But I think it's my hole.' But you lose it. It's a bit melancholy.'It can easily become a bit existential. But actually I prefer the hole that is not even being made. You say it vanishes. I don't think it vanishes fast enough. There should not be a hole at all.'Slot volgt.