SVEIN RØNNING 22.03 - 02.04.1974

galerie s:t petri
s:t petri kyrkogata 5
lund – sweden
046 / 14 78 00
SVEIN RØNNING / Norway
March 22 – April 2, 1974

“The departure hall was empty. We sat leaning back in the chairs, which were placed back to back in the middle of the large floor. There were many rows of seats with plastic covers that made our thighs and forearms sticky. We sat facing the large windows, which gave us a free view over the area outside. The windows covered the entire wall, stretching from floor to ceiling. Three numbered sliding doors led out. Through the windows we could see the parking area for the airplanes and a section of the taxiway itself.
All the details quivered in the heat and the bright sunlight outside. We sat quietly without speaking to each other.

Suddenly I stood up, hung the binoculars around my neck, and walked toward one of the doors in the glass wall. I stood there and looked out over the area for a moment before opening the door and stepping onto the warm, soft asphalt. The heat struck me like a blow. I closed the door behind me and cautiously walked diagonally across the tarmac. It suddenly seemed enormous, with its yellow and white signs and striped lines.

When I had crossed over and walked down the slope toward the nearest taxiway, I looked around for the first time. The arrival hall lay behind me, low and small. The landscape was flat. Everything stretched straight out in front of me, across the taxiway; I could glimpse a few low ridges in the white sunlight. The taxiway consisted of concrete slabs laid together like a checkerboard. There were black marks on the runway from the airplanes’ rubber wheels. The curve of the runway made me unable to see the end of it. I raised the binoculars to my eyes and scanned the horizon. In the distance I saw the airplane coming.”