Eirdis Ragnarsdottir: An Icelandic Chinese Artist’s Journey to Self Discovery

By Wu Yang

Located in Miyun county， Beijing， the Nanshan Ski Resort is the largest of its kind in China’s capital city and in North China， with more ski trails and slopes to offer than anywhere else in the country. Thanks to its convenient location as well， Nanshan Ski Resort is a popular destination during winter time for ski enthusiasts and tourists from home and abroad.

At the end of 2021， a new landmark at Nanshan Ski Resort opened to the public. Now visitors can enjoy a new 55-square-meter mural facing the Nanshan trails， created by the Icelandic Chinese artist Eirdis Ragnarsdottir for Burton Snowboards， the top snowboarding brand in the world.

“2021 has been a good year. I’m especially proud to have collaborated with my favorite snowboarding brand， Burton， on a mural，” she said. “The artwork was created in memory of Jake Burton， the father of snowboarding， and it’s the only mural around the globe that is dedicated to him.”

Answering the interview questions via video link， Eirdis Ragnarsdottir， who was born in 1993 and has some distinct European facial features， spoke Mandarin with a heavy Beijing accent. She also has a Chinese name， Bai Yun， which literally translates as “White Clouds”. In fact， her mother is from Beijing， and her maternal grandmother is from Shanghai. Before coming into public view as a promising young artist， Bai Yun was perhaps better known as the daughter of Ragnar Baldursson， former minister-counselor of the Embassy of Iceland in Beijing.

Because of her father’s job as a diplomat， Bai Yun and her family moved a lot between countries. Her upbringing was mostly split between Reykjavik and Beijing. She also has lived in Tokyo and New York， but never staying in one place for a long time. “The constant moving contributed to my personality and flexible outlook on life today，” according to Bai Yun. When asked how she adapted to different cultural and social environments， she answered， “I have never known anything else.”

“However， I admit that it wasn’t easy being considered an ‘outsider’ all of my childhood. As a mixed-race child， I looked different from the other kids at school. I spoke the languages fluently but was always ‘the new kid’， and it was difficult to fit in. This was true in both Iceland and China.”

When she was 19， Bai Yun went to study psychology and philosophy at Gallatin， New York University， and worked as a full-time designer for some time after graduation. Speaking of her time in the US， Bai Yun said it was “not easy” at first， but then “I realized that I seemed to be fitting in better in the US than at ‘home，’ at least on a surface level. In the US， where immigrant culture is dominant， most people have mixed cultural features so my appearance seemed to fit right in”.

With her impeccable accent， she was often mistaken for a local， and for a while life and work were going smoothly. But it was not before long when Bai Yun started to think seriously about who she really was： for Bai Yun， her integration into US society hovered more at a superficial level， which failed to give her a real sense of belonging.

“What they saw was the front I was putting on， overshadowing my core. I felt lost in the camouflage as well，” Bai Yun recalled. “I have roots in Iceland and China， so I needed to go back to my origins and reconnect.” When she returned to Iceland and China， she began embracing her authentic self instead of trying to “fit in”. She also integrated what she learned from the journey of “finding oneself” into her paintings with her unique style.

“Painting is like having a conversation with myself， and when inspiration strikes， I can paint nonstop for 20 hours or more， usually spending the next few days recovering，” Bai Yun compared the process of creation to meditation. For her， she follows the current of the present moment when she paints — while her present states change， the sequence of her paintings fall under the same bracket of exploration， to express the fluidity of self. Self discovery is a constant “Lost and Found” process， which is the title of her most prominent collection till date.

Looking at Bai Yun’s paintings， one cannot help but detect the two features in them that bring a strong sense of visual impact. One is the sense of contrast in the use of different colors： intense emotions and brilliant colors. The other is how she outlines the curves， applying natural and smooth lines to set off the overall appeal of the image. Indeed， the two features are closely connected with her “roots”.

“Iceland is beautiful and you can feel the power of nature when you’re there. I suggest you rent a car if you visit Iceland for the first time to experience as much of its raw nature，” said Bai Yun. “Nature is serene， yet it can be dangerous as well. The juxtaposition of beauty and danger is something I find fascinating. You realize how small and fragile you are amongst these powerful forces. It is a good reminder to not take life so seriously and enjoy every moment.” Iceland is the “l(fā)and of ice and fire”， and this contradiction is organically integrated into her contrasting use of colors.

On the other hand， the fluid lines in her paintings absorb Confucianism as well， with the curves reflecting the inclusiveness of Chinese philosophy. The high esteem that Bai Yun holds for Confucianism and the traditional Chinese culture has been deeply influenced by her father， Ragnar Baldursson， a veteran “China hand”.

In 1975， a 19-year-old Baldursson， drawn by China’s socialist cause， traveled for more than 8，000 kilometers from Iceland to study philosophy at Peking University and learned from such eminent Chinese philosophers as Zhu Desheng （1931-2019） and Feng Youlan （1895-1990）. In classic texts like the Analects of Confucius and the Tao Te Ching， Baldursson sought and found wisdom. In 2006， he became the first translator to publish the Analects of Confucius into Icelandic. In his view， to minimize the misunderstanding in international affairs， for foreigners to understand China， they have to understand the Chinese way of thinking. That is the essence of the traditional Chinese idea that “harmony without uniformity is the Great Unity”.

“China is inspiring due to its long history and wisdom engrained in the language and culture，” Bai Yun concurred. “I also like the emphasis in traditional Chinese medicine that you must heal your ‘roots’ to heal symptoms， instead of the Western medicine’s primary emphasis on alleviating symptoms， which is often just a temporary solution.”

So far， Bai Yun’s works have been exhibited in cities including New York， Philadelphia， San Francisco， Beijing and Tokyo. In 2019， her exhibition “Lost & Found”， held in the embassy of Iceland in Beijing， was the first attempt of the embassy to promote people-to-people exchanges through art exhibitions. Currently， Bai Yun is preparing for another exhibition in Milan， which will take place at the end of January 2022. Meanwhile， she is also getting ready for her work to be exhibited at Louvre in Paris next September.

More people are starting to pay attention to this young emerging artist as she continues to create thought-provoking artwork. Outside of work， she enjoys visiting Beijing’s hutongs and eating jianbing （Chinese crêpes）， baozi （steamed buns） and Sichuan food. When she is nervous， she likes to make music， or thinks of nature in Iceland and tells herself “allt reddest”， which translates as “everything will be OK”.

“It’s more about freeing your heart and mind，” said Bai Yun. “Once you know where you came from， you’ll know where you are heading.”