Womankind – August 2019

(National Geographic (Little) Kids) #1
45

I have always had a passion for
art - maybe because I’ve never been
particularly creative. I’m not very
good at drawing or painting. People
who possess these skills, the ability
to make a statement about the world
through a performance or a sculp-
ture, have always interested me.
Some artists are quirky, others are
boring. It’s hard to stereotype them,
because each is different, just like the
rest of us. But being an artist is not
something you can switch on and
off. Artists live their art. Art is the
only way for them to be in the world,
they would be miserable without it.
Early in life I liked meeting artists.
So I ended up on the institutional
side - I worked as artistic director for
Tate Liverpool, and last year I took
the role of director of Copenhagen
Contemporary in Copenhagen. It’s a
dream job for me.
I was born and raised a little bit
outside Aarhus, on the east coast
of the Jutland peninsula, in a sub-
urb called Risskov. It is a beautiful
place by the sea. Denmark abounds
in coastline. We have the sea all
around us as we only share a bor-
der with Germany. Our house was
about 200 metres from the water,
and in the summertime, I’d swim in
the sea with my friends, underwater
the entire time. In wintertime, we’d
skate on the ice and have the beach
all to ourselves. Having that view to
the horizon - you know, that feeling
that there’s always something ahead
for you. The ocean is a kind of a me-
diator between the great nature out
there and the cultural part, which

contains our world. I’ve always liked
those liminal zones.
When I was eight, my parents
moved to France because my father
got a job at a Swedish company
outside Paris in an area called La
Défense. My mother was a journalist
for the Danish national television,
but she got leave of absence for a few
years and worked as a journalist in
Paris. She wrote articles for Danish
newspapers and magazines on cul-
tural life in Paris. I was taken out of
the Danish school and put into an
international school in Paris. Com-
ing from the informal and relaxed
Danish school, the French system
was much more rigid, and structured.
In Paris, my mother took me to
art events. I remember going to the
Pompidou where Yoko Ono screamed
for an hour as part of her perfor-
mance. I didn’t really understand
what was going on - I was eight or
nine at the time. It was a perfor-
mance by Yoko Ono and a Danish
artist called Erik Andersen. Yoko
Ono was howling, and Erik Ander-
sen was running around with a stick,
pounding it onto the ground. It
made absolutely no sense to me, but
as a kid I was like, “sure, why not?”
It was exciting. I watched the adults
around me absolutely fascinated
with this bizarre scene. It was one
of those life experiences that made
a huge impact on me.
We came back to Denmark from
France when I was about 11. In ad-
olescence I really led my own life.
I was always out with friends, I was
into rave culture and subcultures. I

LETTERS FROM COPENHAGEN

Words
MARIE NIPPER
Interview
STAV DIMITROPOULOS
Photographs
DAVID LETH WILLIAMS

Marie Nipper fell in love with art as a child in Paris, and
is now director of art centre Copenhagen Contemporary.

Portraits


45

I have always had a passion for
art - maybe because I’ve never been
particularly creative. I’m not very
good at drawing or painting. People
who possess these skills, the ability
to make a statement about the world
through a performance or a sculp-
ture, have always interested me.
Some artists are quirky, others are
boring. It’s hard to stereotype them,
because each is different, just like the
rest of us. But being an artist is not
something you can switch on and
off. Artists live their art. Art is the
only way for them to be in the world,
they would be miserable without it.
Early in life I liked meeting artists.
So I ended up on the institutional
side - I worked as artistic director for
Tate Liverpool, and last year I took
the role of director of Copenhagen
Contemporary in Copenhagen. It’s a
dream job for me.
I was born and raised a little bit
outside Aarhus, on the east coast
of the Jutland peninsula, in a sub-
urb called Risskov. It is a beautiful
place by the sea. Denmark abounds
in coastline. We have the sea all
around us as we only share a bor-
der with Germany. Our house was
about 200 metres from the water,
and in the summertime, I’d swim in
the sea with my friends, underwater
the entire time. In wintertime, we’d
skate on the ice and have the beach
all to ourselves. Having that view to
the horizon - you know, that feeling
that there’s always something ahead
for you. The ocean is a kind of a me-
diator between the great nature out
there and the cultural part, which

contains our world. I’ve always liked
those liminal zones.
When I was eight, my parents
moved to France because my father
got a job at a Swedish company
outside Paris in an area called La
Défense. My mother was a journalist
for the Danish national television,
but she got leave of absence for a few
years and worked as a journalist in
Paris. She wrote articles for Danish
newspapers and magazines on cul-
tural life in Paris. I was taken out of
the Danish school and put into an
international school in Paris. Com-
ing from the informal and relaxed
Danish school, the French system
was much more rigid, and structured.
In Paris, my mother took me to
art events. I remember going to the
Pompidou where Yoko Ono screamed
for an hour as part of her perfor-
mance. I didn’t really understand
what was going on - I was eight or
nine at the time. It was a perfor-
mance by Yoko Ono and a Danish
artist called Erik Andersen. Yoko
Ono was howling, and Erik Ander-
sen was running around with a stick,
pounding it onto the ground. It
made absolutely no sense to me, but
as a kid I was like, “sure, why not?”
It was exciting. I watched the adults
around me absolutely fascinated
with this bizarre scene. It was one
of those life experiences that made
a huge impact on me.
We came back to Denmark from
France when I was about 11. In ad-
olescence I really led my own life.
I was always out with friends, I was
into rave culture and subcultures. I

LETTERS FROM COPENHAGEN

Words
MARIE NIPPER


Interview
STAV DIMITROPOULOS


Photographs
DAVID LETH WILLIAMS


Marie Nipper fell in love with art as a child in Paris, and
is now director of art centre Copenhagen Contemporary.

Portraits

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