In the middle of the dense, deep forest at Skovsnogen, you meet a clearing with a grassy hill that is clearly man-made. On the hilltop sits the oversized, 2 m. high urn.
It is made of white glazed stoneware with relief decorations on the surface. The urn is modeled up by hand, which makes it appear more vibrant, with skews and personality.
The urn at first looks very beautiful, with the light playing in the decorations of the surface. On closer inspection, it turns out that the ornaments look like childish graffiti or tattoos; numbers, words, Maltese crosses, scars, flames, drops, etc. appear among a number of other, lesser-known signs and scribblings. It turns out that many of the readable characters contain violent, sometimes extremist references. The words seem like shouts: Federal, Rise, Pride, My Evil War; the figures look as if they refer to a particular symbolism, and yet other ornaments seem quite incomprehensible.
The urn appears as if it is trying to communicate. But the signs and symbols seem to be passing on secret messages to some specially initiated. As a visitor, you get a sense of grasping some of the messages, but at the same time being cut off from achieving full understanding.
The sculpture's simple, austere shape, as well as its solemn location on top of a hill, evokes memories of a shrine, a cult site, a burial mound, a stone dolmen. There is an occult atmosphere, like a ritualistic place of sacrifice or a gathering place for a lodge or sect.
But where do the urn's harsh irreconcilable statements fit in, to whom do they belong? The signs are taken out of their usual context; the urban radicalized subculture meets the romantic spruce forest.
One cannot look down into the jar, which leaves one with the question of its contents - is it ash? And who or what is then placed to rest in this giant urn.
The project is generously supported by the Danish Arts Foundation and Midtjysk Skole og Kulturfond.

Photo: Hesselholdt & Mejlvang.