The Reykjavík Grapevine’s People Of The Year

It has been a year of transformation in Iceland. The land on Reykjanes has continued to renew itself with an ongoing series of eruptions, while necessitating the evacuation of an entire town. Icelandic politicians took a turn to the nationalist, ramping up anti-immigrant sentiment as protestor occupied the central square on which Alþingi sits. And all the while, Icelanders made their mark on the creative spheres of the world, further cementing the country’s reputation as an artistic powerhouse and cradle of innovation.

While much has transpired in 2024, the Reykjavík Grapevine identified four individuals who have made an indelible mark on Iceland. These are the Reykjavík Grapevine’s People Of The Year.

The People of Grindavík, Resilience Personified

Losing their homes and community in the series of eruptions near the Sundhnúksgígar crater row, the people of Grindavík deserve acknowledgement for their determination and perseverance through hard times.

As has been widely reported, the entire town of Grindavík was evacuated on November 10, 2023, as a magma intrusion burrowed beneath the town, causing a violent earthquake swarm and widespread damage. After weeks of seismic activity, an eruption finally began on December 18, 2023.

It was during one of these eruptions, in January, 2024, that a fissure opened up so close to Grindavík that the molten lava claimed three houses on the edge of town. The blazing orange mass creeping toward and eventually overtaking the structures was livestreamed on several webcams recording the eruption.

In the face of such an extreme natural disaster, one wouldn’t be remiss to feel a sense of hopelessness. There are few which exhibit the spirit of serenity in the face of this natural disaster as much as Morten Szmiedowicz, a 40-year old athlete and amateur dart player, whose home was one of the lava’s casualties.

Morten, who lived at Efrahóp 18 with his wife and two children before the evacuation, was at a darts tournament in Reykjavík when lava reached his home.

We’re taking one day at a time. We’re happy and grateful for what we have.

“We didn’t sleep a wink that night. I ended up not playing but instead joined my son. We didn’t know it would end this way. But then we noticed people watching the news at the tournament,” Morten says. “You could see the fissure opening right above our house and by the end, everything caught fire.”

At that pivotal moment, Morten says the darts community embraced him with open arms. “It’s not like we’re spectacularly good at darts — it’s just about the community.”

To his own surprise, Morten claims he wasn’t glued to the TV during the event. “I think the tournament helped me there. I walked past the TV and had a look, but I was more focused on how my son and wife were doing. But it’s all a big blur,” he describes.

Following their loss, the family purchased a property in Þorlákshöfn. Morten still keeps in touch with his former neighbours, sometimes visiting Grindavík as part of their “hobby farmer” group.

Although Morten concurs with the many inhabitants of the town who have voiced their grievances concerning how the authorities tackled the crisis and the subsequent state acquisition of Grindavík properties, he doesn’t spend time ruminating on his inconveniences.

“If I’d focus on the things that annoy me, I’d be frustrated every day. We can do ours to meet our demands on what we think is fair, and we can continue trying to enjoy life. We’re taking one day at a time. We’re happy and grateful for what we have,” he says.

Looking forward to the new year, Morten’s outlook is nothing but positive. “At least it couldn’t get worse,” he laughs. “We have our own place in Þorlákshöfn. The kids are thriving. Although it would be best to be in our own home, we’re getting to know people at the new place.”

Morten’s mantra is simple: “I can’t be bothered to let things out of my control annoy me. There’s always a solution to anything.”

Naji Asar, Palestinian Activist

For his fight for the freedom of Palestine and for peacefully protesting to hold the Icelandic government to account, Naji Asar is deserving of immense respect.

It has been five years since 29-year-old Naji left his home in Gaza, fleeing with two young nephews and a cousin — who were then just one-, five- and nine-years old — to seek safety and peace elsewhere. After two years in Greece, Naji and his young family members sought refugee status in Iceland. After a year in Reykjavík, Naji could legally apply to bring his family — including the parents of the children he had been caring for — to join him here.

When Hamas launched an incursion into Israel on October 7, 2023, and Israel responded with a massive military invasion that has since displaced 90% of Gaza residents, reducing their homes, schools and medical centres to rubble, Naji turned to the Icelandic government for help bringing his family and other Palestinians to safety. Met with silence and inaction, Naji, along with other Palestinians and their supporters, erected tents in Austurvöllur to draw attention to their cause. They camped in the freezing cold from Dec. 27, 2023, to Jan. 24, 2024.

“It’s very hard. It’s very cold,” he told the Grapevine as the tents were being dismantled in January. “But we sit here to feel what my family feels and what Mohammed’s family feels. We sit here for justice, for peace, for a response. We will sit here forever.”

On March 9, in no small part due to the efforts of Naji and the many Icelanders who showed their support for the cause, Iceland welcomed 73 Palestinian refugees, including the parents of the children in Naji’s care.

There’s a genocide now and it’s live and you can watch it. You can watch someone die live, if you open TikTok and there is a bombing and there is press there — it is live on TikTok. The genocide is 24 hours, seven days. It’s not just Saturday or Sunday or an hour a day or a few hours in a week. This is everyday and this is happening now for a year and two months.

Nearly a year after first setting up camp in front of Alþingi, Israel’s military onslaught on Gaza has only intensified, while settler violence against Palestinians in the occupied West Bank has followed suit. At least 44,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israel, including hundreds of journalists, medical professionals, academics and humanitarian aid workers.

“My people have been for a year under genocide and are still fighting for freedom,” Naji said upon being informed he was named as one of the Grapevine’s People Of The Year. “I think the ones who are the best of the year, it’s the Palestinian people fighting after a year, sleeping in tents, — [they] don’t have water, don’t have food, don’t have medicine, don’t have hospitals.”

Though he has not occupied Austurvöllur since last winter, Naji has continued to raise awareness in Iceland about the genocide in Gaza, recently taking to the streets to politely ask passers by to say two simple words: “Free Palestine.”

“There’s a genocide now and it’s live and you can watch it. You can watch someone die live, if you open TikTok and there is a bombing and there is press there — it is live on TikTok. The genocide is 24 hours, seven days. It’s not just Saturday or Sunday or an hour a day or a few hours in a week. This is everyday and this is happening now for a year and two months.”

“I’m trying to remind people that people like you — a human being — are dying. It’s children that don’t have food, don’t have water. I’m trying to remind people, don’t forget the children. Don’t forget the blood. Don’t forget the war. Don’t forget the bombing. Don’t forget the people in the Middle East, especially in Gaza, because it’s a terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible life. I’m born there. I grew up there. I see war in my life three times the same as the genocide. But this one, everyone can watch it. Everyone can watch it.”

“We have to do something not just posting, sharing, talking on Instagram or Facebook or TikTok,” Naji implores. “Talk in the street, in fresh air, scream. Scream.”

Arnhildur Pálmadóttir, Innovative Architect

For her efforts in minimising carbon emissions in the construction industry as well as her visionary practises and outlook towards climate change mitigation, architect Arnhildur Pálmadóttir is one of the Grapevine’s people of the year.

In October, 2024, Arnhildur won the 2024 Nordic Council Environment Prize for her progressive work in finding sustainable solutions in the field of construction. Re-using material and opting for locally sourced supplies, Arnhildur works to drive down the pollution caused by a sector responsible for about 40% of global CO2 emissions.

One of Arnhildur’s current projects is a unit of social housing on Háteigsvegur, opening in December. The environmental impact derived from the building’s construction materials is 44% lower compared to similar projects, due to Arnhildur’s emphasis on circular resources.

In addition to her practical applications as a versatile architect, Arnhildur is also actively researching the possibilities of Lavaforming — utilising molten lava as construction material — whose key findings she will display in the 2025 Venice Biennale of Architecture — the first Icelandic person to do so.

“I work in two sectors. On one hand within systems — in construction projects where I design buildings for construction,” Arnhildur says, explaining her profession’s duality. “And on the other hand, I work in this sci-fi, conceptual-driven project where we imagine the construction materials of the future,” she continues.

I think it’s also important to be able to tell the stories of the future, how the world will look like, so we can possibly work towards these worlds.

“As an architect in this period we live in, I think it’s important we do that [balance the practical and the conceptual]. Exclusively working inside systems has tangible effects. The projects I work on have several hundred tonnes less carbon footprint,” she says. “But I think it’s also important to be able to tell the stories of the future, how the world will look like, so we can possibly work towards these worlds.”

Introducing the concept of Lavaforming through a visual storytelling medium at the Biennale, with additional story development by Andri Snær Magnason, Arnhildur’s tale takes place in the year 2150 when humans have harnessed the lava flow.

“It’s an interesting time now because we’re practically watching this development live,” she says, referencing the recent volcanic events at Reykjanes. In their own version of lavaforming, first responders have manipulated the flow of lava by cooling it down with water. “Of course, it’s a reaction. It’s a trauma and this is a response to that,” Arnhildur says. “What we want to do is zoom out and envision where we would be — of course after some time — where this would be more manageable and technology would be helping us,” she notes, drawing up comparisons with steam power, “Which people treated with fear at first and nobody used.”

For next year, Arnhildur anticipates putting her head down to continue working. “I think I’ll focus on actually producing something,” she jokes. Switching moods, Arnhildur has a serious message about the recent Alþingi election. “In the run-up to the election, environmental topics seemed to be regarded as pedantics — as opposed to being intricately woven within society. I think candidates should rather be asked how they’ll react when the Gulf stream dissipates or when wind strengths reach a certain point. We need to start tackling the real transformations these things will bring,” she concludes.

Víkingur Heiðar Ólafsson, World Renowned Pianist

2024 was a big year for pianist Víkingur Heiðar Ólafsson. Starting the year on the tail end of touring J.S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations, Víkingur received multiple accolades seemingly non-stop throughout the year.

Víkingur appeared in NPR’s Tiny Desk series; embarked on a critically acclaimed concert tour with fellow pianist Yuja Wang; released his EP Continuum; was awarded the classical magazine Musical America’s ‘Instrumentalist Of The Year’; scored a Grammy nomination for his take on the Goldberg Variations; amassed a total of one billion streams; and he moved houses in December. Whew, what a guy! It’s no wonder he ends up on the Grapevine’s People of the Year list.

“The first half of the year I was just following up on the Goldberg Variations. Both in the West, but also in places like Australia, Japan, Singapore,” Víkingur says across the phone in the midst of his renovations.

“The latter part has been extremely varied and fun with more big tours. It’s best not to think too much about it. When I do, it becomes too much,” he ponders on his exuberant lifestyle. “And I’m grateful for being healthy. I think my wife experiences more pressure, being at home with two small children. That can be a challenge,” Víkingur points out.

Víkingur has always been ambitious, with five-year-old Víkingur confidently asserting to anyone that he was a pianist. Looking back, Víkingur is unsure whether he expected his career to gain this much success.

Ten years ago, I couldn’t fathom that I’d be doing these things today. The opportunities have changed in the last 20 years, and rapidly so in the last eight.

“I’ve always been a bit cocky,” he laughs. “I haven’t lacked the confidence. I’ve always looked at myself in two ways: being both modest and immodest,” he sneers. “Ten years ago, I couldn’t fathom that I’d be doing these things today. The opportunities have changed in the last 20 years, and rapidly so in the last eight.”

Víkingur has plenty of highlights from the last year. A few sticking out are select performances. “My big debuts: playing in the Sydney Opera House five nights in a row, Carnegie Hall, and playing the BBC Proms with my favourite orchestra, the Berlin Philharmonic,” he reminisces.

His streaming numbers were also a special capstone. “To know that people are getting something by listening to me every hour of the day, that’s an incredible feeling,” he remarks.

Dedicating much of the last season to Bach, Víkingur has formed a special relationship with the long-deceased composer. “Playing Bach is like journaling,” he admits. “You mirror yourself with his music. It’s open and structural. It’s not personal in the way that you’re peering into his life. He opens up your own psyche. That’s why I love playing him. He gives us the freedom to be ourselves, with music which is, in my opinion, the greatest music ever written,” he advocates.

Víkingur kicks off the new year with San Francisco performances in January, playing the world premiere of John Adam’s concerto After The Fall, exclusively written for him. He’ll continue working on a new album, focusing on Beethoven, but most of all, Víkingur wants to record.

“I’ll be preparing my home and studio. I was inspired to know how many people listen to me so I want to record much more. Do it faster and release more singles, freeing myself from this album format,” he asserts. “I want my next decade to focus on studio recordings.”

HONOURABLE MENTION

Diegó

There’s nothing that unites people more than a common enemy. Overnight, fans of the Skeifan residential feline Diegó transformed into internet sleuths as reports surged about the kidnapping (catnapping?) of Iceland’s most famous cat. On November 24, Diegó was reported missing by his owner on the cat’s Facebook fan group, which almost counts 18.000 members. Some people sighted a dubious person taking him onboard bus number 14. Police were on the perps’ tail and located Diegó after a tip from local animal rescue group Dýrfinna, less than 48 hours after his initial disappearance. Upon arriving, they discovered that Diegó had been given a new name, Spori, and was being kept by a person who’d received him as a Christmas gift. Diegó was returned to his rightful owner and continues to spend his time between the various businesses in Skeifan.

The Blue Lagoon Carpark

Fortunately, the series of volcanic eruptions near Grindavík have not claimed any human lives. The mitigation of the volcanos’ effects has proven highly successful, with limited disturbances to the region’s infrastructure. Funnily enough, one of the main pipelines supplying hot water to people throughout Reykjanes actually went under lava and prevailed. We could probably write a whole cover feature celebrating the marvels of modern engineering. However, in the most recent volcanic events last November, Iceland bid a sombre farewell to an integral part of our tourism industry: The Blue Lagoon carpark. Flooded with lava in a few minutes, the empty tarmac became the newest addition to Reykjanes’ geological splendour. Iceland’s unsung hero was gone too soon.

DISHONOURABLE MENTION

Bjarni Benediktsson

Nobody’s prime minister, Bjarni Ben can only claim the seat as a placeholder to be replaced as swiftly as the electorate has an actual say. Over his 20-plus years in politics and 15 years as leader of the Independence Party, Bjarni has earned a reputation as a teflon man, with the stink of his too-many-to-name scandals somehow never permeating deeply enough to end his political career. Instead, he has perfected the art of waiting out voters’ memory spans, redirection and blowing his dog whistle to distract from his often despicable wheelings and dealings.

Bjarni began the year as foreign minister in a three-party coalition with the Left-Green Movement and the Progressive Party. In that role, he actively fanned the flames of nationalism, rallying against refugees and making Iceland a worse place for immigrants of all stripes. When he crept through the back door into the prime ministership upon former prime minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir’s departure to run for president over the summer, it wasn’t long before the government fell. But not one to have a shred of decency or seemingly any regard for the dignity of public office, Bjarni used his time heading up a pre-election caretaker government to flirt with issuing a new whaling license to one of his cronies, only to deny it when secret recordings emerged and scandal ensued.

But lo and behold, on December 5, with elections now behind us, the Independence Party not being considered to take part in the next coalition government and his time squatting in the prime minister’s office drawing to a close, Bjarni issued a five-year licence for Hvalur hf. to hunt fin whales and Tjaldtangi ehf. to hunt minke whales. Bjarni’s involvement in the whaling debate while overseeing a temporary caretaker government was panned by critics as ​​”an abuse of power and legally questionable.” But that’s about what the people can expect from Mr. IceHot1.