Listastofan will pass away not so quietly on September 19th, 2019. It was born on October 12th, 2015 to Martyna Daniel and Emma Sanderson, who clearly had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Since its youth, Listastofan cultivated strange taste in art and even stranger taste in artists and, worse, in poets. It acted as a co-working space, exhibition gallery, movie theater, music studio, laboratory, unlikely nightclub, and possibly a clandestine spot for drunken hookups. It lived a complex life full of paint, sawdust, ceramic genitalia, ramshackle photobooths, piles of literal trash, uncomfortable performances, teenage diaries, and more photos of Icelandic landscapes than there are actual landscapes in Iceland—all in the name of art.
Listastofan is survived by its original co-founders, Martyna and Emma, and three later co-directors: Emmanuelle, Lina, and Gabi. Other survivors include the twelve-ish in-house artists who’ll now have to draw, compose, build, and do whatever other weird things they call art in their mothers’ garages because they probably live with their mothers anyway. Also grieved are all the broke students who especially enjoyed the free wine at openings. On the subject of survivors, if you believe Listastofan owes you money, please take it up with your lawyer. They can’t do anything but it might make you feel better. If you believe Listastofan may be the father of your child, please take the results of the paternity test to your grave.
A celebration of Listastofan’s life will be held on September 19th at Listastofan and later at Iðnó, with musical performances, awkward goodbyes, and, in the style of Listastofan, branded underwear. Although it lasted unusually long by Reykjavík’s standards, its life was still tragically short for any space as simply fucking special as Listastofan. At only four years old, Listastofan will finally be taking its own advice: “Be young and shut up.”
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