Nick Wishart is an interdisciplinary artist and musician whose work merges sound, light, and movement. Using custom-built electronic instruments, sensors, and code, he creates immersive performances and installations that transform gesture and environment into audiovisual experiences. His practice explores the boundaries between technology, art, and play.
“I had an incredible time at the Fish Factory residency, where I focused on refining my live set and developing new ideas. A real highlight was performing at the Tiny Church in Stöðvarfjörður. I also captured extensive slow-motion and timelapse footage of the stunning East Icelandic landscape, which I’ve since woven into my audio reactive live visuals.
Thanks for all your hard work helping us with this project!”
When I came to the fish factory I had the intention of making a UFO. This sort of happened, but so did lots of other things.
I did a collaboration with Rachel Saxby. I handed over some test videos and we discussed how she could play with the video content, and do as she wanted with it. The results were interesting, and we ended up with an audiovisual composition that somehow works.
While walking around the village, I saw a Mk1 Land Rover, and wished I had one to explore Iceland with. So I decided to make one using my temporary cardboard sculpture technique.
During the build I modified it, mounting it on a computer chair to make it mobile. I spent a few hours a day constructing the Land Rover while thinking, why the hell am I doing this?I couldjust go for a walk or something, but regardless, I continued. To stabilise and hold it together, I used some ratchet straps from the metal workshop.
Now it was time to take it outside, to go exploring. We spun the Land Rover around, discussing what to do with it. We pushed it around and parked it for a while. After more discussion, we took it to a small hill and pushed it down. 1-2-3, action: the Land Rover speeds down the hill, starts to drift, skids. Doink. It collapses on its side. The aerial view shows the action from above and some phone camera footage captures it passing at ground level.
In other news, the UFO was, in some ways, a failure. I’d anticipated taking it deeper into the landscape, but something did happen: the UFO was inflated, and this balloon-type structure was moved around on the pier, almost abducting some participants, swallowing them into a metallic blob. It danced around a bit, then deflated, rolled up and disappeared. All captured by drone pilot in aerial view.
I also made some classic Test videos using a hot water bottle as the subject. I’m still not sure what it means.
To give some context as to what the tests are, they are an ongoing archive of kinetic installations that use various materials and objects as a subject and then record the actions.
Tania Joanna Van Hoofstadt is a Belgian mixed media artist. Originally trained as an architect, she found herself craving more creative freedom—and about 20 years ago, she turned to sculpture and painting.
Since then, her work has evolved into a tactile exploration of texture, color, and material. From moss and lichen to metal scraps and engine parts, she dives into both natural and man-made worlds, zooming in until the smallest details become vast imagined landscapes. Macro photography plays a key role: a thin layer of cambium becomes a canyon; a pebble becomes a planet. Through her collages, installations, and machines, she invites viewers into these miniature universes.
Lately, she’s been capturing new “sceneries” using her handmade Landscape Slicer—a quirky, low-tech alternative to a 360° camera. Not quite efficient, but twice the fun. Because for Tania, playfulness is essential: nothing should ever get too serious.
Her first residency in Iceland, at the Fish Factory, has been everything she hoped for. Surrounded by wild landscapes and shelves stacked with wheels, tubes, and music instrument parts, she felt like she walked into her version of Valhalla.
A new Landscape Slicer was built, and ideas for more gloriously useless machines are already brewing. Maybe during the next residency?
