The psychedelic revolution of the 1960s derived its capacity for discovering alternative concepts and forms of behavior from the fact that the adult world of authority and discipline had lost its recourse to rationality. The term "psychedelic" can be summed up as the movement a referent describes from losing its original signification to being imbued with a new and splendid one that reconnects thinking and sensation. In a similar way, Tor-Magnus Lundeby's paintings, installations and performances embody a psycho-kinetics that is always on the go, processing a flurry of differentiated input and stimulating visual experience. The worlds of music and music-culture take a privileged position in Lundeby's work as general codes fro personal fantasies and subversive expectations. In this context, psychedelic lore is employed not as a retro gesture, but as an artistic method for mapping the self and stimulating the experience of the now.

The carriers of visual identity that inform Lundeby's paintings seem to be vintage arcade games, the uncomplicated yet obsessively coded communication of fan culture, and a poetic take on the styles of the record industry's experimental segment. This indicates a culture of consumption where much depends on packaging alone, but the inclusive attitude inherent in Lundeby's works also seems rooted in a verification on difference on a microlovel. Lundeby's artistic vision can be compared to a millennial version of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale "The Water Drop", in which a neuro-world of unexpected fertility and dimensions reveals itself in a single droplet. In Lundeby's case, the water drop is the canvas, in which the teritory of modern life is a site of continuous translations between self, image, and sound.

Media, representation, and authorship assume many modes of being in Lundeby's work. A monochrome background gives the figures in Lundeby's paintings an object-like, stable platform for "performing". For example, each of the four canvases of the series "The New Robots" (2001) represents a member of a ficticious band of the same name. The forms Lundeby employs to depict the band's lineup shape-shift before one's eyes or refer, Rorschack-like, to different scales and realities. In the organic cosmos they inhabit, the figures signify in a seemingly simultaneous blur of associations-science-fiction architecture, anthropomorphic or cellular configurations, and the soft cells of the networked society. In the same manner, Lundeby's paintings teeters between the pathos inherent to pop culture's invention of new (pictorial) worlds and the dry, 1:1 quality of cartography, electronic circuitry, and monochrome tradition in painting. With emotional presence, Tor-Magnus Lundeby's work circumscribes cultural fascinations laid bare in their serendipity and exalted baptisms. This is a from of being that is most vulnerable in its ability to reinvent itself on an unknown territory, in a new and different gesture.

Lars Bang Larsen, 2002


Cover Vitamin P, 2002
Cover Vitamin P, 2002
Akateeminen Kirjakauppa Helsinki

Tanum Oslo