Hailing from the Danish equivalent of Twin Peaks – or so he says – Danish designer and multi-faceted artist Henrik Vibskov has made great waves in the fashion world over the last ten years. His shows in Paris and other fashion hotspots have bordered on art installations, so it only seems natural to go see his exhibition. ‘Transform My Egg Into Movement And Place It Out’ is on display at Kulturhuset until Aug 21. We decided it was a good opportunity to pick his brain.

I read that your most recent show ‘The Salami-Kitchen of the Non-Exi-Stent’ was inspired by the conflicting choices modern society has to face. On the one hand there’s the health movement; on the other there’s a life of decadence. This reminded me of the two personality types that are constantly being played out in the fashion world – the famous hedonists such as Kate Moss versus the self-disciplined figures such as Victoria Beckham. How did you come to create a whole fashion show around the concept?
In the spring we did something for the Salone del Mobile in Italy. The day after we did this tapestry at Art Cologne for the gallery I’m represented by. We weren’t really sure what should be on the tapestry and then suddenly I thought: ‘Hey, what about putting charcuteries on it?’. And then I woke up in the middle of the night and was like, ‘Salami. Jesus. That’s what we should do, man.’. And then I started thinking about Danish salami. In the 70s, 80s, and 90s it was pretty big. It was this very red salami. I think if I served it up on a table for some of the people here in my studio, they’d be like, “That’s full of E-numbers. You cannot eat that.” But it’s part of my history.
Then there’s the whole Michelin chef industry which is pretty big down here in Copenhagen. And on the other end of the spectrum there’s people who are starving. And then there’s the meat industry and the environmental factors. Is meat something we’ll tell our grandchildren about? “Back then, we were eating steaks!”
So all of that lead to anything from the knitwear to some of the silk prints to the actual [catwalk] installation. We created a meat factory. We played this futuristic, Blade Runner kind of music. We used some red neon lighting. It’s like being two levels down in a sci-fi movie. You know, down in the basement. There’s always an Asian food truck down there. So I thought we could have this Asian styling within a European meat factory, with all the butchers going around.
We also got real salami. We contacted this guy in Holbæk which is like two hours away from Copenhagen. He has these organic, happy pigs. But when I asked if we could have like 400, 500 salamis he was like, “No, no, and no.” But eventually he was like, “How’s your refrigerator situation?” We did the show at this very posh hotel in Paris, the Westin. We got chefs to cut up salami slices and serve them to the audience before the show. Kind of to ‘salami them up’ a bit. But it’s fashion. You know the people. They only had a little bit. So at the moment we’ve got two big fridges in the studio that are completely stuffed with real salamis.

Whilst this process went on, your exhibition ‘TEMPO’ opened in June at Kulturhuset in Stockholm. Are you pleased with its reception?
I went there for the opening, and the day after just to check it out again. I like that the exhibition has been put up there. I have to see where it’s going afterwards. Probably Paris. It came from a Korean museum where a quarter of a million people visited it. Now it’s in a very different kind of place. More like a train station, you could say. It was interesting seeing the people who joined in at the opening. Some of them didn’t know anything about me. They were just like, “Hey, what’s in here?” And came in and had a look. That’s a nice thing about it. Hopefully all the tourists in Stockholm will come out of the exhibition with some more thoughts than what they had when they first went inside.

I love how the Portishead track ‘We Carry On’ plays throughout the exhibition.
Oh yeah. I was planning to put more music into it but then we went to do something else and forgot about it. The Portishead track is a mix from our show, ‘The Jaw Nuts Piece’. We used all those wooden heads as percussion. Maybe we should’ve played something a bit more ambient down the other end of the exhibition. The plan was to have some more speakers there. Something atmospheric, I dunno. Hopefully it’s working anyway.

Speaking of atmospheric, I listened to your ‘Mountain Yorokubu’ sessions recently and really enjoyed them. Do you have plans to release more?
The one that’s done with Asger Jorn is really good. I really like that. There’s actually more made, but we haven’t put them out. You know it’s very, very freestyle and everything is done over the course or one, two hours, and sometimes there’s just four tracks that are great. Maybe there’s none. We did some at the Kennedy Centre, this massive place in Washington. Two of the tracks are good the rest is a bit… [whistles]. Then we did some other stuff that we forgot to record.

How do you find time to create music when you’re working on other projects?
It’s all pretty connected. I’m interested in the visual impact a musician can make. It’s important to watch the people playing and how they appear. One of the big reasons I’m in this world is because of music. I still drum a little. I’m playing a few festivals over the summer, but I don’t play as much as I used to. When I was touring, I was travelling all over the world. I got a little bit bored of it, to be honest. When I had some kids, I thought that maybe I should be more available instead of hanging out in a backstage room in LA. So when my band was saying we were gonna play in Australia over Christmas and New Year, I was like, “Uh… I’m not sure I’m gonna join in.” So then I quit the wild touring life. The guy I’m touring with is one of the guys from Trentemøller, and he plays maximum ten gigs a year. And that’s perfect.

‘TEMPO’ allows the visitor to interact with some of the spectacular installations that have become one of your hallmarks as a designer. Starting out, you must have had a lot of faith in your fashion designs to give them such dynamic backdrops. How much do you think about the commercial element of a show when you’re planning one?
Sadly I have to think about the commercial side of things. But, I try to do it my way and I’ve been doing it for so many years that it’s pretty important that I keep passionate. I try to change up the daily routine because that keeps my brain active and that’s what I need. Commercially, I could probably do much better. You know, why make salamis? That’s stupid. But it’s not all about being commercial. Hopefully it all works together. The idea is that I create a world that people will enjoy and ultimately want to buy some clothes from.
Creative freedom is really difficult to achieve. I’m a professor, and one of the hardest things for the graduating students to figure out is how you actually realise your creative ideas. You have to consider what will sell, and what’s possible with your budget and production method. There’s always stuff you have to balance. It’s no easier than it was years ago. It’s just that now there are new problems! Like, I dunno, you’re not allowed to serve salamis at a Paris hotel. Safety rules and all that.
I just spoke with my bank lady because I bought a summer house. It would be interesting to hear what she thinks about creative freedom. She probably wants to say, “Hey Henrik. Earn some money!”

‘Transform My Egg Into Movement And Place It Out!’ can be found in Gallery 3 at Kulturhuset.
Open until August 21.

Words: Daisy Fernandez