
ODEE Friðriksson in front of his graduation work, the Bergen Kunsthall Project — a mural-sized QR code that redirects to a living digital artwork the university attempted to censor.

The Artwork That Cannot Be Censored: Icelandic Artist Hijacks Museum Wall with Living, Evolving Mural
This is the official advance publication of the press release for Bergen Kunsthall Project. It was distributed through international media outlets on April 15, 2025.
BERGEN, NORWAY, April 15, 2025 — It was supposed to be a mural. Instead, it became a trap.
When Icelandic artist ODEE submitted vague plans for his final MFA artwork — a mysterious large-scale mural — the University of Bergen (UiB) reacted with alarm. Refusing to reveal the work’s content in advance, ODEE found himself at the center of a bureaucratic standoff that nearly cost him his spot in one of Scandinavia’s most prestigious exhibition halls. But what the university feared most — an uncontainable work of institutional critique — is precisely what they got.
The mural, now installed inside Bergen Kunsthall, turned out to be a massive black-and-white QR code painted directly on the gallery wall. It was executed by ODEE’s longtime collaborator and friend, Juan Arctic, who also painted the now-famous We’re Sorry mural in 2023. But its message doesn’t live in paint — it lives in cyberspace.
Scanning the code takes viewers to kunsthall.art, a digital doppelgänger of Bergen Kunsthall’s own website — controlled entirely by the artist. There, ODEE has created a portal for performance, critique, and disruption — one that can be updated from anywhere, at any time, without curatorial oversight.

ODEE Friðriksson in front of his graduation work, the Bergen Kunsthall Project — a mural-sized QR code that redirects to a living digital artwork the university attempted to censor.
What makes the Bergen Kunsthall Project (BKP) groundbreaking is not just its form — but its power. As a living digital work embedded inside a major physical museum, the mural serves as a remote-control exhibition, a live wire inside one of Norway’s most revered art spaces. ODEE can rewrite the narrative on a whim. He can change the visuals. Post new texts. Embed satire. Archive the institution’s own contradictions. Even delete the whole thing. Every viewer who scans the mural becomes part of this conceptual loop — one that makes censorship not only impossible, but self-defeating.
The University of Bergen, which co-organized the MFA exhibition, didn’t anticipate this. When the artist refused to submit his full concept ahead of time, university officials met on February 24 and decided to remove him from the show entirely, citing the lack of transparency and “potentially illegal” content. The institution then demanded ODEE submit to a risk analysis — a move his legal team swiftly argued constituted unlawful prior censorship under Norwegian and European human rights law.
Represented by the prominent Norwegian law firm Advokatfirmaet Sulland, ODEE’s legal team argued that the university’s actions violated both Section 100, Fourth Paragraph, of the Norwegian Constitution and Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights.. The demand to preview an artwork prior to exhibition, they said, amounted to unlawful prior restraint. The university eventually agreed.

Opening night of the Bergen Kunsthall Project — the gallery packed with artists, critics, and curious onlookers as ODEE’s mural-sized QR code silently hijacks the institutional wall.
Within days, leading arts and free speech organizations had taken up the case. Freemuse, an international watchdog with UN consultative status, issued a formal letter demanding an explanation. UKS – Young Artists’ Society, Norway’s largest visual arts union, condemned the exclusion as “a dystopian overreach.” Support poured in from artists, academics, and cultural figures across the Nordic region.
In a remarkable reversal, the university issued a formal apology just days before the exhibition opened. In a letter dated April 3, UiB assured the artist he would not be required to disclose the content of his work — a climbdown ODEE’s lawyers say came only under public and legal pressure.
The university’s actions, once intended to prevent controversy, have now become central to the artwork itself — archived on kunsthall.art, preserved as part of the performance, and cited in interviews and press materials. BKP doesn’t just depict critique — it documents it in real time.
The website, kunsthall.art, is more than a replica — it’s a living instrument of disruption. At any moment, ODEE can rewrite the narrative, update the design, or even erase the content, all from his phone. It’s not just about control — it’s about timing, response, and agility. In a world of static exhibitions, BKP lives and moves like a digital organism.

Screenshot of kunsthall.art — the digital platform behind ODEE’s Bergen Kunsthall Project — featuring a viral GIF signaling the institutional takeover.
The project draws clear lineage from culture jamming, relational aesthetics, and social sculpture, taking cues from artists like The Yes Men, Rirkrit Tiravanija, and Joseph Beuys. Like them, ODEE doesn’t see art as static — he sees it as an intervention.
This isn’t the artist’s first public spectacle. His 2020 work MOM Air — a fake airline launched with branding, press releases, and booking options — fooled media worldwide and reached over a billion viewers. His more recent piece We’re Sorry, which staged a public apology on behalf of a corrupt Icelandic fishing company, landed him in the High Court of London after the company sued for defamation and copyright infringement.
The artist’s practice is rooted in public intervention, media manipulation, and legal risk. From creating fake corporate apologies to faking entire business ventures, ODEE’s work stretches the definition of conceptual art into domains of real-world consequence. His strategy is simple: create the illusion, then wait for power to reveal itself.
“When the institutions intervened, it didn’t stop the work. They became the work.” — ODEE
The pattern is clear: ODEE creates situations where institutions are forced to respond — and in doing so, they become collaborators, co-authors, or even antagonists inside the work.
BKP takes that formula further. It creates a performance where the only way out is through — and where any attempt to control the work becomes part of the spectacle.
By occupying Bergen Kunsthall’s wall and mimicking its website, BKP blurs the lines between platform and parasite, institution and intervention. The gallery remains silent. The website does not. This isn’t just institutional critique — it’s institutional haunting.
In its final form, BKP is a reminder that some works cannot be tamed — and some artists don’t ask for permission. Once the QR code is painted, the gallery loses control. The wall becomes a screen, the artist holds the remote and the world is watching.
additional images for release
For press inquiries, interviews, additional documentation, or high-resolution images, please contact:
ODEE (Odee Friðriksson)
Artist
Email: odee@odee.is
Website: www.odee.is
Legal Contact:
Advokatfirmaet Sulland AS
Jonathan Leifsson de Lange
Advokatfullmektig
Tel: +47 39 47 14
Email: jll@advsulland.no