In February 1993, at artist Hannes Lárusson’s Gallerí 11 in Reykjavik, Magnús Pálsson exhibited two installations, one in each of the gallery’s two rooms. In the first was Enginn Gleypir Sólina (No One Swallows The Sun). In the adjacent room was its companion work Herra Túrpur Jónsson (Mister Túrpur Jónsson).
Each room featured four wall-mounted loudspeakers, one in each corner emanating vocalized grunts, sighs, and syllables in between extensive passages of Icelandic and nonsensical language. On the floor beneath each loudspeaker was a generous mound of snuff tobacco. Upon each pile was a cluster of sizable, hand-painted paper-mâché noses. The snuff evoked a sense of nostalgia, its smell permeated Gallerí 11 as the loudspeakers relayed various anecdotes, verses, and vernacular expressions Pálsson heard throughout his life.
Enginn Gleypir Sólina and Herra Túrpur Jónsson, referred to by Pálsson as “vocal sculptures,” exemplify Pálsson’s life-long fascination with language, and encapsulate his interdisciplinary exploration challenging disciplinary boundaries in order to cultivate new manners of expression.