Una Gunnarsdóttir: A Decade of Art and Debt Reflection
In a candid conversation, artist Una Gunnarsdóttir shared her insights on the current state of personal debt and its impact on behavior. “We are at a time where we have sunk into so much debt that we cannot repay it. It has taken away the satisfaction of being able to pay down our debts, and that must affect our behavior patterns,” she remarked. Una’s recent exhibition, titled “Forgive Me My Student Loans,” held at Fyrirbæri on Ægisgata in Reykjavík, February, served as a retrospective of her work since graduating from the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts nearly a decade ago. Halla Harðardóttir visited Una’s studio to discuss her journey on the Víðsjá program on Rás 1.
A Generation in Debt
Una reflects on the financial burdens that many from her generation face after completing higher education. “I returned to Iceland three years ago, just at the end of COVID, which was very peculiar. I had spent 10 years in Copenhagen,” Una explained. “I frequently visited Iceland, participated in residencies in Ísafjörður, and was part of maternity leave. I was constantly moving between countries.”
Una studied painting at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts. “The title of the exhibition refers to the decade since my graduation, and approaching forty, it’s a natural time to reflect on past achievements,” she said. “Forgive Me My Student Loans” highlights her reliance on student loans during her education, a common experience among students. “I can’t say these last ten years have been a period of building. It has been more about treading water, keeping everything afloat, and trying to enjoy life,” Una commented. She notes that many from her generation are heavily indebted yet live relatively high lifestyles. “It’s hard to sympathize with us under these circumstances, which is why there is this longing for forgiveness from older generations.”
An Artistic Journey
The exhibition featured a collection of Una’s oil paintings created at various stages of her life. Rather than painting new pieces, Una revisited works from the past decade. Her inspiration is drawn from many sources. “In my twenties to early thirties, I was incredibly impressionable. I couldn’t go anywhere or see anything without it moving me, and it became a crisis. I had so many good ideas,” she recounted.
Una meticulously recorded these ideas in a sketchbook but struggled to execute them fully as new ideas constantly emerged. “I decided to put the book aside and trusted the ideas that came to me when I was in the studio,” she said. “There was no point in trying to capture all these ideas.”
Now, Una approaches her work differently, allowing the materials to guide her. “I’m not as impressionable anymore, which is a bit sad, but now I let the material work for me,” Una explained. “I prime the canvases with oil, creating irregularities, various forms, and I follow those forms to see what happens. I might have a vague idea, like adding figures, but I don’t sketch precisely or decide on colors. I just let it happen. It’s a slow process, and I work on several at once, rotating them and following my intuition.”
A Broader Context of Student Debt
Una’s experience is part of a larger conversation about student debt that has been gaining attention worldwide. According to a 2023 report by the Institute for College Access & Success, student debt in the United States alone has reached over $1.7 trillion, affecting approximately 45 million borrowers. The burden of student loans can significantly impact life choices, from career decisions to home ownership and family planning.
In Iceland, the structure of student loans and repayment differs, but the pressures on graduates remain similar. The need to balance financial obligations with personal and professional aspirations is a challenge faced by many. This financial strain can hinder the ability to invest in personal growth, creative endeavors, or entrepreneurial projects, potentially stifling innovation and cultural contributions.
Critical Reflection
Una Gunnarsdóttir’s exhibition and insights highlight the broader societal issue of student debt and its long-term implications on individuals and generations. While her work provides a personal reflection, it also invites a larger conversation about the sustainability of current educational financing models and their impact on the creative and professional potential of future generations.
The question remains: how can societies support their citizens in achieving education and personal growth without the crippling burden of debt? As nations worldwide grapple with this issue, Una’s work serves as a poignant reminder of the human stories behind the statistics, urging a reevaluation of how we approach education, finance, and support for the arts.