Conversation with Jacob Eriksen

Below is a conversation between Jacob Eriksen, director of Sound Art Lab and curator of Struer Tracks, and myself — Zlata, intern-turned-Almanac curator.

Join us as we discuss how and why Kommunal Praksis drives this year’s biennial, while also sharing a brief look behind the scenes of the festival’s work.

Zlata: What is the concept behind this year’s Struer Tracks? How did it come to be and why did you choose it now?

Jacob: There are so many good answers to that question. If we first of all look at communal practice and Kommunal Praksis, there is this wordplay between the Scandinavian way of understanding Kommunal Praksis as something very bureaucratic on the one hand. Like, when you need to renew your driver’s license, or get a certificate, or if you want to add an extra structure to your house — then you go into this bureaucratic system of the municipality. That is often known as kommunal praksis in Danish as well as in other Scandinavian languages. On the other hand, when we say communal practice in English — it does not refer to bureaucracy at all. I think the English equivalent to kommunal praksis would be public administration practice, or something like that. I don’t know the exact term, but it does not really matter that much as the two terms are almost the same — it’s just a “k” in Danish, and a “c” in English — that makes all the difference. Two terms that are nevertheless completely different, but they could feed into each other. Or at least communal practice could feed into kommunal praksis, in the sense that we start to understand kommunal praksis, or public administration practice, as something we actually do for a collective group of people who are only bound together by living in the same geographic area within politically defined borders. The concept for Struer Tracks is not so much addressed towards the public administration, it is instead a humorous pathway into serious topics revolving around how we can open up perspectives of being together in many different ways, and more or less voluntarily, as we are in Struer municipality and in this world. Kommunal praksis should not be for the sake of the system, for the state — it should be for the inhabitants which collectively constitute an environment of individuals, families, groups and associations, companies and businesses, animals, insects, fields, plants, rocks, waters, politics, infrastructures, healthcare, farming, production, education, leisure, and entertainment. Kommunal praksis is the practice of glueing all this together through public administration but also through communal practice where we understand the societal environment not as a machine with set rigid rules that apply to everything, but as a living organism that is always changing in relation to the rest of the world. This organism needs to be kneaded, shaped, and formed from within by which it also shapes itself.

Since Struer Tracks is a festival, a biennial, organised by the municipality and taking place in the municipality of Struer, I think it would be great, as a curator, to have this kind of self-reflective double sided concept of Kommunal Praksis/Communal Practice. One that is not just about the municipality itself, and not just self-reflective in the sense of looking at our own belly buttons, but rather an expanded self-reflection — like, what is this that we are actually doing in municipalities?

Being situated in a municipality, in a public administration system — as a festival, as a Sound Art Lab, as an artist residency or working environment for sound art — is a bit weird. We feel weird, and I mean that in a very positive sense. We feel weird about being within the realm of kommunal praksis, of public administration. This also has its strengths. The weirdness is that it’s quirky, it’s funny. At the same time it can also be a burden. We really have to follow some rules. Then again also opens doors — to direct help from the rest of the municipality, contact with other groups within or outside of the public administrative system.

The topic of kommunal praksis thus becomes a self-reflective term for the municipality, for us within the municipality, us as the festival, us as Sound Art Lab — it is a great exercise to do.

Of course, it is not so interesting to go to a festival that is just reflecting on its own situation. We want to expand the term through a lot of different artistic practices that are communal in one way or another. I think that is the very perspective coming from Sound Art Lab, from Struer Tracks, from within.

Then there is a bigger perspective — a societal, global perspective — of community as something like a group where you belong. That is both something like a safe place, but it is also maybe something that creates a border where others cannot enter.

Zlata: What does that do? Or could there be other communal practices that transcend borders and groups?

Jacob: Borders can be anything — from country borders to, let’s say, the sailing club. They have their borders. And the young car enthusiasts — they have their borders.

They stay in groups, but only within their group. And then they go home, and then they are also in other groups. And they are connected through family members, and friends, and colleagues, and so on.

Some families have relatives in France, or in the United States, or in South Africa. And suddenly, there is a community, or there is a connection. And it is cut off by community rules or border rules. You can meet one person from the sailing club, and one person from the car enthusiast group. They have a connection through the cuttings of borders in other groups. And you can have this communal perspective on so many levels.

I think those are… well, we would see the communal element as something positive, something that we do to each other, do with each other.

But we also face difficulties doing stuff — travel, being able to work elsewhere than your own, like, within your own state borders, or your friends’ countries, and so on. Like, within the EU, it is fairly easy to move around. But if you want to go elsewhere, or if you come in from outside the EU, then you need a lot of paperwork. Again, some public administration work — to be part of the community, and so on.

So that whole geopolitical aspect of the communal practices — I think it’s very, very interesting to see how we, as a festival, can address that. Both within the artworks themselves — but not necessarily only there. It could be a question of how we can collaborate with other festivals in other countries.

For example, we have two artists from the so-called SWANA region — Southwest Asia and North Africa — which is also a disputed area. There are many different understandings of what countries are included in that community, if we can even call it a community — the SWANA community.

The question becomes: how can we get funding from Danish art institutions to invite people from a place where it is normally more difficult to invite someone from? It is about trying to break out of our own bubble and saying, “okay, we need to look somewhere else”. And one of those directions could be the SWANA region.

Therefore we teamed up — three festivals: Struer Tracks, Minu Festival, and Klang Festival — together with Another Sky Festival in London, who are specialised in SWANA artists.

Editor’s note: As part of this collaboration, Struer Tracks, Minu Festival, and Klang Festival — together with Another Sky Festival in London and supported by Art Music Denmark — launched a residency programme for artists from the SWANA region (Southwest Asia and North Africa). Two selected artists will take part in a paid three-month residency at Sound Art Lab in Struer, Denmark, where they will develop new works to be later presented at one of the partner festivals.

How can we curate an open call? How can we curate the selection? And how do we go by with this? How can we stay within the system but still stretch the system?

We are going beyond convenience, because the most convenient thing would be to invite someone from Sweden, invite someone from Germany — inexpensive travel, no bureaucracy needed, and so on.

But there are a lot of factors when inviting someone from Lebanon or Egypt, as the case will be here. So how can we stretch within that kind of administrative — public administrative — practice, so we can expand our own community?

There is that perspective, but then also: how can we see the human being as part of the world? In relation to, for example, what is sometimes called the more-than-human. That could be the waters that we are surrounded by — hence Struer. That could be the wildlife, the plants, animals, and so on. What is the relationship between humans and the rest of the world? And of course, that is not a new topic. But putting it into the context of this — I think it is a nice way to include it in the communal practice topic.

I also think the last perspective worth mentioning now is the idea of doing it together as a communal practice, which is way less abstract or like highbrow or heady. Doing it together, as in doing jam sessions, or making people meet — not saying that this is the artist-star, or the star artist, the big name, and this is the audience — but saying that, okay, we invite some people to do art. Most of them, most people have not heard about it. But that is okay. We know, we guarantee through our curation that great stuff will happen. And we hope that people will engage with that and be part of it.

We structure the whole festival so that it is possible to take part in everything. There are not several parallel tracks running at the same time and you miss half or two-thirds of the program. But you can, if you are energised enough, follow everything. We eat together — also like that, doing that together. Struer Tracks is not just about attending art shows together, it is something that is performed together, but also those very human needs of eating together — social needs. Eating together will be a key component of the curated program.

Zlata: So why now?

Jacob: I think it can be relevant for all times, but also now.

Zlata: Yes, and it feels like the topic of borders — and everything surrounding it — is becoming more and more urgent for more and more people. And with this being the fifth edition of Struer Tracks, it also feels like a good time to actually look back and reflect a bit

Jacob: Yeah, it will be the fifth time we have Struer Tracks. So it also feels like a good time to come together.

Zlata: Yeah. For me, it was also a good reminder. In my experience, bureaucracy in general is just pure evil. And this was my first interaction in Europe where I felt that, “okay, the government can actually do something positive — you can ‘trust’ it, in some way”.

In my experience, collaborating on projects with a municipality for example, usually entails constantly fighting. So the topic was a good reminder that it can be different. At some point, I think that becomes a big problem — when you live in a structure where you do not believe in cooperation, you become passive. You stop taking action because you already know it will only be met with resistance. And the thing is, you can never have the same amount of resources as when you are working with the municipality or within a public structure. That is why I think it offers a lot of space for reflection — about how to keep that balance and see both the problems and the good things that can come out of it. I think that is really important.

My next question — since we have been talking about people, your structure, and maybe how the biennial has worked in the past — how do you feel about the way communication with the city is going now? And do you have any expectations for how it might develop this time, or how it usually works in general?

Jacob: I had only attended one edition of Struer Tracks before I came to Struer. I went to visit Struer Tracks as part of a full international conference in Aalborg. We were going in buses to spend and afternoon experiencing the biennial. And that was eye-opening — to experience high-quality international art, sound art, happening in a small town in Denmark. I was very positive about that.

It was in 2019, which would have been the second edition. The first three editions were, as far as I was informed, stretched over two to three weeks of programming, including kids’ programs and performances, with a very strong focus on the exhibitions — so installations that you could come and visit throughout the two- to three-week duration of the program.

Whereas I had heard something like, okay, arriving at Struer on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of a biennial and not feeling like there was a festival atmosphere was maybe a bit disappointing — dispite the artworks being amazing. I found that a shame. I was also thinking, okay, for the fourth edition in 2023, it would be nice to have a more dense festival atmosphere.

So we shortened it down to become five days of condensed programming — and that seemed to work very well. All the artists stayed, those who could. And also some of the audiences, especially local audiences, really enjoyed it and attended as much as possible. We got really good feedback. So I saw that, okay, that was a success somehow.

Another thing that was also a success was that we had some food trucks and a pop-up cafeteria, where we also held some performances. You could buy a cup of coffee, or a beer, or something to eat, and talk with each other, and then go into the exhibitions or attend performances. And that worked very well. That was kind of a meeting point. I wanted to make that even better for this year’s edition.

So… yeah. What did not work with the 2023 edition was that the artists were not eating together, because there were not any planned time slots for that. So I wanted to change that. Now, we have planned time slots for lunch and dinner, where we will eat together, and there will be no performances during those time slots, to create this kind of family feeling.

Let’s say we will be the artists plus the Struer Tracks team, and the professionals visiting, and so on — like a core group of maybe 50 people, always eating together, going to everything together. And then also including the rest of the visitors. It can really strengthen connections within the festival — and hopefully build a kind of micro-community that can then expand to other festivals. The big wish for any festival is that their artists get booked for something else because of their festival. And that people return to the festival to get more of the warmth they experienced the first time they came and attended.

I also wanted to bring that very much into play.

Zlata: How do you know if the biennial worked? I think you partly answered that already… but do you have some kind of metric for success?

Jacob: When does it work locally?

Zlata: Yes.
Jacob: That is when you can present something that is, by the art professionals, regarded as high quality — but at the same time not scaring away the non-trained audience, who might just be curious about something they had never experienced before.

The worst scenario — if we could take that first — would be that there is a curious local audience who comes, and then they get scared away. The best-case scenario would be that they dare. They have this little curiosity, they dare to show up to something that does not normally happen.

Struer Tracks takes place every second year and this year will then be the fifth. It is not everyone living in Struer who has even heard about Struer Tracks. It is not easy to attract the local audience, but if just some locals would think I’m not really sure what it is, but I’ll give it a try and then they go home thinking okay, this is something wonderful and completely unexpected. That is a measurement for success.

Zlata: Do you think that people are usually curious about sound art biennials?

Jacob: I’m sure that most people do not know what a biennial is — or what sound art is for that matter. So, no — because they do not know. They have not even heard about it. That being said, I am not sure, actually. Because when you do not know something, then why should you be curious?

We have a job to do there — to communicate it. So everyone can awaken their curiosity. I guess, because of the whole “City of Sound” slogan and all that, then — okay, there is a sound art festival, a biennial, I’ll try to see what it is. Okay, it is close to where I live. Or it is down in the shopping street. Okay, no problem. I can go down there. And if it is not for me, then I can buy an ice cream or whatever. Hang out.

Zlata: So how are artists selected for the biennial?

Jacob: Well, the curator has a job, and that is to stay curious, stay curating. There might be some — I do not know if there is — connection between the words curating and curious. A curator must keep on working curiously towards finding artists, practices and artworks that they did not know before, and then putting it in the pool of the stuff that the curator knows already. Then developing the topic, and how the artists and their works would fit into the topic. Considering in what different ways can we think about the topics presented in artworks and in different constellations?

My experience is that most artists, maybe especially sound artists, seem easy to contact, to get in touch with and propose something to. There is something about sound art as a niche genre that makes the community lovely to work with. Most of the artists I contacted were very positive about coming to Struer Tracks and said yes immediately. And others, they were too busy with other works and had to decline, which is also totally fair.

Traveling a bit around to other festivals, making studio visits, and so on — speaking to artists throughout the years leading up to planning the program — is an important part of the process. But I also wanted to include people who have been through Sound Art Lab. There is a real connection with Sound Art Lab as a residency — where people are producing something, so what has been produced at Sound Art Lab might also be exhibited at Struer Tracks. The artist might be international — from a Danish perspective — but actually, what they have been creating, they have been doing very locally in Struer. That is, for example, the case with Maryia Komarova and Kunrad, who stayed for several weeks in the summer of 2024, and worked on an installation or performance — or whatever shape it will be in the end. They will come back and present that.

Zlata: I was also thinking of using that question to highlight the situation with the open call for the Sound Art Lab residency. There were so many amazing applications, a lot of great ones. But I wanted to touch on the limitations involved. Sometimes artists get rejected not because their work is not strong, but simply because there are constraints — limited space, time, or other resources like budget.

Jacob: That is true. And we have not done an open call for Struer Tracks — other than the Almanac, of course. But… yeah, open calls are difficult. They are great because you can really get in touch with a lot of artists, you can read their proposals, and there is so much good stuff happening out there. But you are limited to picking only a few. And that is a difficult task — to reject a lot of really good artists and really good proposals.
I already had way too many people I wanted to include in the program, so I did not find it necessary to have an open call to artists for Struer Tracks.
Also, a lot of artists proactively write about whether they can participate in Struer Tracks with a performance or an installation. And… yeah, I can not remember if anyone is actually — there may be a few, actually — in the program, but mainly not. I think that is more the case if you are, like, playing at a club or venue — then that is the way to go.
But sure, you can always try, and it is always good to reach out and get connected. Sometimes it is also just the perfect match — and then of course you will be included.

Zlata: Can you talk about your experience working in different roles — as a sound artist, an art director, and a curator? How do these roles develop alongside each other, and in what ways do they overlap or influence one another?

Jacob: I have my own artistic practice, and I guess a lot of curators have their own artistic practice. Others do not. But having an artistic practice, and experience of course, means that you have a vocabulary and experience in doing stuff — seeing what is possible, what is maybe not possible, especially when you are reading proposals. But also in the way that you can kind of imagine a program being put together. So I only think it is a strength, in a bigger perspective.
Maybe we could talk about the fact that it is weakening all the different aspects. I am not 100% an artist, I am not 100% сurator, I am not 100% director of an institution.

Zlata: But what is 100%?

Jacob: Yeah, exactly — what is even 100%? It does not add up like that. Fair enough, if you are only doing one of the things — that is not a problem. But saying that you are only true if you are doing one thing 100% — I do not really like that.

Zlata: I was also curious about how responsibility differs across your roles. I just wonder if, in your case, those roles come with a sense of responsibility. Like, as an art director, do you ever feel, “This is on me”?

Jacob: So there is a very big responsibility to understand what is happening. You need some good analytic skills to see connections, to see conflicts — potential conflicts — to see different points of interest, and analyse the situation. And then from there, you do you.

So being aware that, okay, this is a festival situated here and not there. It is situated within this history and not that history, or those wishes. So there are certain things that would be very easy to do, other things that I might be able to do with a bit of fighting, and some things that would be totally a no-go. And that is a big responsibility.

And then, of course, there is the economical and practical responsibility — and so on — that also comes to it — but that is in this more curatorial, abstract responsibility of curating a program. It is a lot of understanding and openness, and a lot of things can go wrong or go as you did not wish for, and then you have to be able to say, okay, I will then do something else, and that will also be very good.

Let’s say you find the perfect location for a certain artwork and you imagine how everything will take shape, and then suddenly it is not possible anymore and you have to find another location. That is just what we have to deal with.

And then there is the political factor, as we are part of — and have been granted funds from — the municipality so we have to recognise and honour its wishes. But also to interpret their wishes in a way they had not imagined.

So that is what I think is a very good way to express it — it needs to be taken very seriously. It needs to be translated into something that you, as a professional, can be satisfied with, while also, you know, fitting the frame.

Zlata: Do you think there are any lessons that you could share — maybe something you learned from your personal experiences working in this context?

Jacob: Yes. Well, one thing that I think is really nice — and actually is necessary — is to be thankful for everyone who is involved and to give them credit. And highlight them a bit more than they feel that they might need to be highlighted. Because everyone is a big part of the process.

Being the director, or the curator, or the ‘big-shot artist’ is often seen as one person doing a great job. But basically, it is a whole team. It is a whole organisation. A lot of bits and pieces. I have met a lot of very famous, big-shot artist directors and curators who are not very nice. So being nice to people, giving them credit for the job that they have been doing, does not take away your credit. I wish that would be more common. Not that it is rare, but it could be more common — to be nice and say, “that’s really, really good”.

There is a lot of criticism out there. I think it is fair to criticise stuff that needs to be criticised, but there should be more positive gestures. And less ego. Less “I alone have done this great thing”.

I think with social media — like you have Instagram and you have LinkedIn and so on — there is a lot of posting about “me” and “what I have been doing” and “I’m so good,” and so on. Or humble-bragging, which is even worse.

…But anyway, people should post more about other people, and not so much about themselves. Give credit to people you admire — like, “this is really nice, a good job that other people have been doing” — I think that is important.

Zlata: I don’t know why it so often gets so complicated. But maybe it takes a lot of trust for organisations to credit people properly. And somehow, sometimes, things just go weirdly…

Jacob: I think that is a risk that you have to take. It also does not need to be perfect.

Zlata: True.

Jacob: Yeah, well, I think sometimes I also fall into the trap of wanting to do too much. So, what I would love to learn is to say no or be very realistic about tasks and saying, “I can’t do that”—being a bit better to myself work-wise. It is just. I get so excited about doing all these great things that we can do here. And most of the time I manage, but often it is also, you know, I’m a bit too busy. I would like to have a calmer workday, but yeah, that is a luxury. And I am not complaining, but yeah.

Zlata: That is a luxury — but there is still a lot of complexity, and it can still be difficult to manage everything that is happening.

**…**How can we give proper credit to everyone working at Sound Art Lab — for example, through The Almanac?

I mean, yes, having this conversation with you, but there’s also Kristoffer, Isa, Stine, and many others. And then there are probably so many people that I do not even know about.

So I am just wondering — how can we include everyone? What should be done?

Jacob: The easiest way to do it is to just talk about them, mentioning them, including them.

Zlata: Who are the people of Sound Art Lab? And what are they doing?

Jacob: We have you as an intern. And we have Léa, also an intern. We have Thomas, who is also an intern. Kristoffer, our artistic janitor. And I think that is a very nice title — he is an artist, he has a janitor function — so he is an artistic janitor. We have Stine, doing a great job with communication, organising and coordinating within the project “Sound of the Future,” but also in Sound Art Lab as a whole — and Struer Tracks, of course. Isa, doing an amazing job with Lydlaboratoriet, an educational program for kids. Doing an amazing job applying for money for Struer Tracks — that is of course a job that needs to be done. And she is writing really good applications and has made sure that we can have a great program.

Then we have all our collaborators — our neighbors in Sound Hub Denmark, Uddannelsesinitiativet i Struer, Bang & Olufsen, Struer Museum, and the National Knowledge Centre for Sonic Cultural Heritage — and, of course, the rest of the municipality. They have all been very helpful.

We have Jørgen in Sound Art Lab’s basement, who will also be the technical manager for Struer Tracks. We have all the artists in Sound Art Lab coming in and out and making life great for us and them. …And I am not sure how we can give them all a voice within this dialogue frame, but they are all there — and there are many more.

Zlata: Do you think it is a problem that the sound art community feels so elitist? Should it aim to be more accessible or somehow expanded?

Jacob: Do you think it is elitist? Why?

Zlata: I’m pretty sure about this — contemporary art is elitist in many ways. You often need access to education, not necessarily to understand or feel the art, but to know where to go, what to see, and how to be invited.

Some organisations seem to protect that bubble to maintain a sense of power. And sound art can be even harder for general audiences — it is less visual and often more abstract.

With The Almanac, we try to open it up, get more people involved. But I know I am still mostly speaking within the same community.

In the end, contemporary art is tied to privilege. It is not about survival — it is about having the space to reflect, to choose, to engage. And sound art, maybe even more so.

Jacob: I’m not sure I completely agree with you on that point. I do understand where the perception comes from — the idea that contemporary art is somehow elitist or inaccessible. But that artists live an easy life, simply choosing what to eat, reading, making art, and focusing solely on their creative work, doesn’t reflect the reality for most. I think being an artist is incredibly challenging. Many are struggling — not just financially, but also emotionally and socially — to sustain their practice in a world that often undervalues artistic labour. It’s a demanding path that requires constant negotiation between sustaining a basic level of living and always being creative and pushing boundaries.

Zlata: I am not saying artists are not struggling — I know they are, often a lot. What I mean is that the visitors of contemporary art are usually people who already have some level of access.

It is still not something that feels easily accessible to everyone. In Struer for example, I do not think it is always easy for people to understand what is going on. So yeah, artists have their own challenges, but contemporary art still exists within a kind of bubble, in terms of who engages with it…

Jacob: I do not think it should be easy to… It does not have to be easy to understand. But I am also not trying to make an understanding of anything. I am trying to make experiences — something that you might understand in a few days, if at all. Or something that gives you another perspective on something that you find normal or commonplace.

In the sense that what artists can do is to shift perspectives. They can address topics in a different way than politicians can. In a different way than journalists can. In a different way than academics can. In a different way than… the baker or the post-delivery person, or the engineer can.

So there is a special role of the artist. It is not more special than the baker — it is just a different role. But it is still special, as the baker is special.

A special role of the artist to… especially within contemporary art, but I would also say that in art in general — to spot these weird ways of perceiving the world and try to transform that into something that others can experience.

If art, in general and presented at Struer Tracks, is easy to understand — or if it is understandable at all — then… like saying, “Okay, I understand this. 100%.” Then for me… it might have failed. I am not saying that it is failing, but it might have failed. It might have missed the poetry. It does not have the artistic value that is necessary to make that shift … And it can just be a tiny shift, a subtle transformation — like, “Oh, that is odd, but… it makes me think about the world in a different way.”

I think it needs to be — what you might call elitist, or unapproachable, or difficult to approach. Because art needs to create change. And that is what seems elitist. But I do not think it is elitist — I think it is necessary.

Zlata: I think the access to that experience is elitist.

Jacob: Yeah, but it is a cultural thing to call it elitist. And some also want to preserve the elitist bubble.

Zlata: That is true. But I also think denying the elitism is, in part, denying my own position. A part of me probably wants to belong to that elite group, even if I don’t fully admit it to myself.

I have had the privilege of time and access — I did not have to focus on survival, and that is already a huge advantage. If I ignore that, I am closing my eyes to my own privilege.

So this is something I am constantly questioning: how to live in society, understand my role in the art world, and communicate with people outside of it. Sometimes I think my work is accessible and open — but then I talk to people, and they are like, “What are you even doing?” And I realise how deep in the bubble I am. We are living in parallel realities that do not always meet.

Jacob: Yeah, but I also do not understand the work of people who work with wind turbines, or with farming, or with economics. Because I do not understand their inherent mechanics, they are just other fields. I think the question about privilege is very important, but I do not think that privilege is bad at all. It is how you relate to your own privilege — how you are aware of it. Everyone should be very privileged. You should not be ashamed of a privilege, but you need to address it and say, “Okay, wow, how lucky am I that I can travel to several countries with ease,” or, “How lucky am I that I can afford to have a place to live,” and so on. Celebrate the privilege and use it for giving other privileges too. But do not be ashamed of it. Privilege is pretty random, accumulated through time, but privilege is not equal value.

Zlata: Yes, I was trying to speak more about awareness. Privilege blindness is real. And honestly, I think many people, including myself, experience that in some way or another.

Jacob: I very much agree. Also just being given life is already a huge privilege, I would say… But it is a big topic.

Zlata: I also have some questions about future plans — like the summer school you are opening, and maybe other projects you are planning for this year? What are the future plans for Sound Art Lab?

Jacob: So Sound Art Lab is still young — three and a half years, approaching the fourth anniversary.

The Sounding City Summer School, which Sound Art Lab does together with Aarhus University and the amazing Marianne Ping Huang, is a great event where students get together for three weeks in Struer working on interdisciplinary projects all focused around sound and listening. This will take place hopefully for many years.

But our future plan is to to condense all what we are doing into the Sound Art School ‘89’. The school is not a pure Sound Art Lab project though — it is a collaboration where Sound Art Lab is one of the main partners. The collaboration includes the local organisations working with sound in Struer to form a co-learning community where you can learn through sound art, sound technology, sound product design, sound narratives, sound studies, and so on — and what is it to be a professional sound artist? It is spiced up with contributions from artists in residency at Sound Art Lab, as the school will take place with Sound Art Lab as the host institution.

That will, of course, be a very big part of our coming future, close future. And that is, for me personally, something that I have been hoping could happen here, because the potential for an amazing sound art school is here — building-wise, knowledge-wise, and the vibe is there.

Zlata: That sounds really exciting. I just have one last part — you know, like at the end of an interview when people ask quick questions and get quick answers.

Jacob: Is that a common thing?

Zlata: Yes. So the first one is… what is the best advice you have ever received?

Jacob: Best advice I received? That is a good question. I think I will answer it differently, because I cannot really think of a single advice that pops into my mind. But I think it is important to be aware of your mentors. And they do not have to be your active mentors. It can be persons that you are looking up to, people you are following in some way or the other, and people that you are copying — like copying in a positive sense.

I often do that when I’m in a situation and think, “Okay, what would that person have done here?” I try to follow the example of someone that I see as more experienced than myself — someone who would probably come up with a better solution than I might have.

And that is, of course, advice that I am now giving. But I think you can also see a mentor as an advice-giver. So you — of course, you do not need to answer or to ask the person — but try to answer for yourself: “What would that person have done in this situation?”

Zlata: How would you describe your work in three words?

Jacob: Three words? …Why three?

I have a mantra — maybe more like a sentence I picked up somewhere. It is: “Excuse me while I deconstruct.”

Zlata: Do you have a dream project?

Jacob: A dream project — that should be unrealistic somehow, I guess. Um, like, some daydream project could be to do something completely different.

Um… like, the cliché is to become a gardener.

Zlata: Maybe one day it could become realistic.

Jacob: Could be. I think it might — I do not know… But I think it is good to think that most things are realistic.

Zlata: The last question is — what is the last sound artwork to have left a big impression with you?

Jacob: The last one… I was very happy to experience an installation in Hague by Ioana Vreme Moser, called Fluid Anatomy.

It was like a hydro-computer — a computer made of water containers, water channels, plastic pipes, and so on. Maybe it was not traditionally sound art — it was very sculptural — but it had a nice rhythm to it, almost like a kind of breathing.

So that is the last one, I think.

Zlata: Thank you. Do you think we missed something important?

Jacob: Of course.