by ‘This is more than getting from A to B,’ says Edward Fuglø. “This is a way into another world.” Fuglø is an artist from the Faroe Islands who created the paintings that decorate the arched interior of a new tunnel that runs under the North Atlantic. Slender, stylized human figures, many wearing Viking helmets and carrying spears, loom with 3D intensity from the gray steel walls around me. The figures are accompanied by long ships, mythical magical horses, cattle, birds and depictions of ancient stone ruins.
Using the latest Japanese projector technology, the 10 images – each one meter high and produced from Fuglø’s originals – are as bright as neon, and depict fantastic creatures and characters from Faroese legend. “Inside the tunnel we are dry,” said Fuglø, “but we have the feeling of the weight of the ocean in front of us. And we are crossing between very different islands; places that have their own distinct identity, even in a place as small as the Faroes.”
I am told that the flowing water is not a sign that the tunnel is leaking
I was taken through the tunnel for the first time 18 months ago, when the construction was half finished. The sound of the water flowing from the bedrock above made a terrible soundtrack to the guttural gloom of the rock face, raw and rough; a place of honest shadows created by the incremental dynamism of small parts of the basalt. My guide was Teitur Samuelsen, CEO of the tunnel company, who oversaw this massive infrastructure project. Pointing his torch upwards, he told me to hold out a cupped hand and collect some of the water flowing over our heads. “Taste it!” he laughed. “It’s fresh, it’s not sea water. We are more than 150 meters below the seabed – this comes from the bedrock. It is not a sign that the tunnel roof is leaking.”
The newly opened link is 6∙5 miles long and connects Streymoy, the main Faroe island and home to the 20,000-strong capital Tórshavn, and Sandoy, a small island with a population of 1,200. It takes about 10 minutes to drive through the completed tunnel. And for those who have only ever reached Sandoy on the small ferry that would go back and forth between the islands in (almost) all weathers, it is a strange new sensation.
As a regular visitor to the Faroe Islands, which are part of the Kingdom of Denmark, I miss the heartbeat of the ship’s engines, the clatter of the doors closing and the pungent smell of marine diesel and salt spray. The trip was short, just over half an hour, but it was amazing – from the views of the small islands of Hestur and Koltur to the cliffs of Sandoy. In winter, these often disappeared within a veil of spume and spray. Even in summer, they could be shrouded in a descending sea mist. Sandoy residents, however, see the tunnel as a lifeline, making them dependent on the ferry.
The love of the crossing may be gone, but driving through the new tunnel is a great experience. Alongside Fuglø’s vibrant works, the tunnel has its own soundtrack, an original composition by Sunleif Rasmussen. Tuning the car radio to 100 FM, I feel myself immersed in a spectral reflection that draws on sounds he experienced during his early visits to the construction site. The dreamy electro-acoustic rhythms somehow amplify the screeching of car tires, reinforcing the idea that I’m entering another dimension.
The new tunnel leads out of the tiny port of Gamlarætt, not far from Tórshavn. This is the second stage in an ambitious €360m project, which in December 2020 saw a similar link connecting Streymoy with its eastern neighbor Eysturoy. Approaching Eysturoy, the tunnel splits left and right allowing drivers to exit on two different sides of the island. This three-way connection led to the world’s first underwater carousel, which Samuelsen decided to turn into a visual hub.
Inspired by the giant arc lights used to illuminate the excavations, he commissioned the ancient Faroese sculptor Tróndur Patursson to come up with a permanent installation. The result is colorful lighting and a giant circle of full-sized steel figures that surround the carousel as if held by a hand. The design is based on the unique national Faroese “ring dance”, in which hundreds of people perform rhythmic movements side by side, and new dancers are allowed to join the chain at any time.
“We never suspected that the Eysturoy tunnel would cause such a stir,” says Samuelsen. “Many tourists include a trip through the tunnel as one of their must-see experiences in Faro. They call it ‘the jellyfish carousel’, because of its shape and the eerie underwater effect of colored ceiling lights. We felt we had to produce something as artistic for the latest tunnel.”
Arriving to Sandoy by car for the first time, I suddenly find myself in a sweet green valley halfway between the main villages of Skópun and Sandoy. The tunnel itself blends gently into the hillside adding to the impression of a secret portal, and for those of us who are used to gradual arrivals at sea, it’s quite a surprise to get here so quickly. and so hardworking.
Sandoy residents seem to be universally happy with the tunnel. Sproti Úr Dímun is 18, and plays for the professional football team in Sandur. “I’m studying in Tórshavn,” he says. “So it could take up to five hours a day to travel back and forth five or six nights a week on the ferry for training. It’s much easier now – although the ferry was also a very social experience where you’d chat with friends and maybe play cards. I will miss that.”
Fuglø has been struck by the pace of change in the Faroes over the last decade or so. “These tunnels have changed our lives,” he says. “My grandmother lived on another island and it would sometimes take three days to get to Tórshavn by rowing boat, stopping to stay at farmhouses along the way and waiting for the right tide and weather. She would never believe the speed at which we do things now. Our relationship with this rugged landscape is advancing.”
Fuglø is very knowledgeable about the complex history of these islands, and the folk traditions that continue to be part of everyday life, whether it’s chain dances, or everyone knowing which island their grandparents came from. In his tunnel paintings, which he says were partly inspired by the idea that ancient men would make marks on the walls of their caves, he includes many colored birds. These are references to Diðrikur, who was born on Sandoy in 1802. An uneducated farmer, Diðrikur made colorful pictures of Faroese birds on pieces of packaging paper.
His simple, emblematic silhouettes of delicately silhouetted ducks, geese and doves now hang in the national gallery, the oldest known examples of Faroese figurative art. About 150 meters below the Atlantic, Fuglø’s modern counterparts are occupying like Diðrikur birds in these miraculous tunnels that look into the past and the future.
