Björk is among the most unique artists of our time,but is also fiercely battling against grand commerce to defend Iceland's landscape. Lucy Siegle visits her at home"There is no actual milk," says Björk, or surveying her fridge. It is a common scenario,simultaneously being played out in millions of homes worldwide, but chez Björk even the prosaic feels surreal. We have coconut milk in our tea instead. "whether you don't intellect how it looks, or it's OK," she reasons.
She's just so… Björkish. First, there is her look. Today, or a dress made of geometric panels in off-white with an exaggerated puffed sleeve. Later,when we venture out, she pops on a long, and padded coat covered in metallic swirls – how Barbour might have interpreted Joseph's dream coat. Then there's that unmistakable speaking voice,a clash of trilled Icelandic "rrrs" and a cockney chirrup acquired when the "drrrrrumer" of the band she was in got them gigs in the UK and they stayed in squats. "English for me is still like an arm's length removed," she says. "You are always abit different in the mother tongue. That's why it's perhaps easier for me in English to be an extrovert. In Icelandic I'm more private."Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com