Time and place for art on ferries
A ferry is a place where passengers normally don’t meet contemporary art and where the spaces for interaction and exhibitions are limited. There are intimate private cabins or common areas where most spaces are earmarked for consumption. A ferry tour between Sweden and Poland is more than ten hours long and travelers are gathered in a confined space and time, and time is exactly what is necessary in order to embrace art.
Art Line produced exhibitions onboard Stena Vision and Stena Spirit during the summertime when the two ferries which traffic Gdynia-Karlskrona were bustling with people, whereas spring and autumn were a fine time to arrange tailor-made art tours.
To create a stage for the arts dedicated to the accidental visitor onboard a ferry is challenging and exciting for a curator. The passengers don’t expect art in the same way as when they are destined to go to an art museum and can decide to take part in the exhibitions, or to ignore them. Sooner or later some passengers will get curious to watch a video that they have passed by and caught a glimpse of many times during the trip. The installations provided opportunities for surprising and inspiring encounters between the art and the passengers. The semi-public space of a ferry is a fine place to show art installations outside the traditional rooms of a museum or a gallery.
Infrastructure for culture
The Baltic is not what separates us, but what connects us, professor Zenon Ciesielski1 said when presenting the joint cultural history of our Baltic countries during an early Art Line workshop. The ferries are a connecting point geographically, symbolically and mentally. The infrastructure for culture and art rely on the physical connections and the geographical closeness makes joint actions and productions easier. To have a shipping company as an associated partner in art collaboration is unorthodox and unusual and makes it possible for the art institutions, museums and the shipping company to reach new groups of people. Floating museums and art galleries on the move Showing art in an unexpected place can be the antithesis to presenting an exhibition in a monumental architectural landmark museum. The ferries offer a more secretive facade for the art. Symbolically the ferries reflect the idea of art; they are in constant movement on the sea without any borders. It can be the “museum as a locus of crossings of art and life, the museum on the move, the museum as a risk-taking pioneer: to act and not to wait! The museum as a laboratory and the elastic museum, which means: both elastic display and elastic building”.2 The idea of new and different platforms for artistic exchange has been emphasized by many artists and curators for decades.
In the 21st Century the art institution will no longer be relevant in its present form. Its status as a sanctuary will be challenged and its function as a ‘container’ of precious artworks will become subordinate to more urgent needs. It will become a social factor and assume a critical function as a cultural agent and protagonist within its local context. A platform for a discourse that exceeds the habitual and is qualified and informed by artistic practice. A hybrid meeting point where artists and the public merge, look, sense, think, talk, eat, date, party. A place for and with another life.3 A ferry can be one of many possible new platforms for art and social interaction. The initiative institutions can be the reference point for research, interactions and more questions. The curator Hou Hanru spoke about refusing the white cube in an interview regarding his work as Director of Exhibitions and Public Programs and Chair of the Master’s Program for Exhibition and Museum Studies at the San Francisco Art Institute (SFAI).
And that brings me to the question of how to deconstruct the paradigm of museums. This is why, from the day that we started, we refused the white cube. It was a gesture, and maybe it sounds quite naïve and straightforward, but I think that when you do it, it’s actually challenging. It forces you and the artist to think, operate, and imagine a totally different context. After so many years of having white cubes as the standard, suddenly artists are in the place where they lose their point of reference.4 The exhibitions move outside the walls of the actual art galleries and also in some sense depart from the art world.
The culture tourist
We can read in reports from the World Tourism Organization that cultural tourism is increasing. The cultural tourism in the South Baltic area is overwhelmingly related to history and historical sites. Art Line employed contemporary art for a renewal of the idea of tourism in the South Baltic areas and to discuss contemporary societal questions. The Art Line project deals with culture as a driving force for regional development, both for increased attractiveness in the South Baltic Region and to promote cultural tourism. Reports on regional development show that the level of attractiveness for people choosing to live in a specific area is closely connected to the cultural environment. A deepened understanding and tolerance between citizens living in the South Baltic Region is the overall goal.
Sound art in the cabins
During the first Art Onboard project we invited the passengers to a private listening on channel one on the radios of all the cabins. Łukasz Szałankiewicz created a meditative sound piece with the title Baltic Telling Stories as a satellite to the art project and touring exhibition Telling the Baltic. He quoted the title of the historic novel, Quo vadis? written by Henryk Sienkiewicz.5 By the horizon, the Latin sentence ”where are you going?” seems like a relevant question to ask. ”Music is like the sea, you can see the shore you are standing on but not the other side”.
The sound piece, Once upon a time took its inspiration from the fifteen Lithuanian storytellers interviewed in Telling the Baltic. Laura Stasiulyte asked these people living and working by the sea about their favorite songs. The songs were transformed and transcribed into humming. During the second summer of Art Onboard the humming was played in the cabins, a fine way of going to sleep or waking up. Music researchers have established that already in the fetal stage, an unborn child can sense sound, rhythm and movement. It is a bodily experience. A child feels safe when you sing, hum and cradle it rhythmically and music and singing creates a good mood in many situations. As we get older, music can help us recall things from the past.6 Neuroscientists have come to the same conclusions: More than a decade ago, our research team used brain imaging to show that music that people described as highly emotional engaged the reward system deep in their brains — activating subcortical nuclei known to be important in reward, motivation and emotion. Subsequently we found that listening to what might be called “peak emotional moments” in music — that moment when you feel a “chill” of pleasure to a musical passage — causes the release of the neurotransmitter dopamine, an essential signaling molecule in the brain. When pleasurable music is heard, dopamine is released in the striatum — an ancient part of the brain found in other vertebrates as well — which is known to respond to naturally rewarding stimuli like food and sex and which is artificially targeted by drugs like cocaine and amphetamine.7
The songs chosen ranged from Lithuanian folk songs about their homeland, to pop and rock like, The place is empty by the Rolling Stones and Sinatra’s signature melody, My Way. There are lyrics about emigration, about the adventure of going to sea and about being homesick and longing for your loved ones. One could listen to romantic songs, to one well-known sailor shanty, Drunken sailor and to Rachmaninov! Let’s quote the lyrics of one of the hummed songs stemming from Keith Richards and Mick Jagger: “Walk right in, sit on down, and make yourself at home”.
Sound art on the aft deck
As a passenger you could listen to a sound installation while you were on the aft deck with the horizon as your companion. Baltic Sounds Good was a sound art project in which artists gathered sounds from around, on, over and below the surface of the Baltic Sea. The participants visited the Hel Marine Station, which is part of the Institute of Oceanography in Poland, where they recorded sounds from the aquarium and seals. They visited the ports of Hel and Gdynia and boarded the ferry Stena Vision where the captain allowed the artists access to restricted areas. Back at the art hall they composed a joint electro-acoustic concert and an overview plan of the ferry served as the musical score. Krzysztof Topolski, electroacoustic improviser and curator, led the workshop together with the art hall Galeria EL in Elbląg. These sounds were later presented onboard on the aft deck.
Invading the ferries
Art Line invaded the ferries for workshops, lectures and seminars and while going to joint meetings on different sides of the Baltic Sea. When creating installations onboard we used the conference rooms, the lounge areas, the corridors, the loudspeaker system and places in between. During the first summer, passengers could interact with the exhibitions and contribute their own stories about the Baltic Sea in special mailboxes or by creating films online, in cooperation with the Blekinge Institute of Technology (BTH) and the Blekinge museum. The researchers at BTH conducted interviews with the staff onboard for the storytelling archive. The special exhibition displays for videos and photos from Telling the Baltic were in signal-orange, which related to the color of the lifeboats and the idea of getting a cultural firstaid kit onboard. The staff onboard the ferries were like a part of the Art Line staff and took a special interest in the floating exhibitions. One can’t just drive to the store to get what you need when working out at sea.
Tailor-made art tours to Poland from Sweden
Arranging the intensive Art Tour days in the Tri-city area of Poland was amazing. A group of dedicated art tourists interested in devouring art and reflecting upon the ongoing art exhibitions provided an opportunity to spread the knowledge of the vibrant art scene in the Gdańsk area to people in Sweden.
“ – Is the art tour too crammed with exhibitions, public art works, meetings with curators and artists and art events?” I asked. “No, no!” A person taking part in the art tour answered. “This is what I came here for”, she continued. “I will have time to think about it during all the dark winter months when I get back to Sweden, and there are lots of dark winter months! I can rest later”.
Realizing the Art Tours
The first idea was to create a number of concepts for art tours to the Tri-city area of Poland with Gdańsk as the base, and Gdynia and Sopot as tour stops. The tours were especially designed for art associations in Sweden. In Sweden many volunteers engage in arts education and 400,000 people are members of the art associations, making it the second largest voluntary organization nationwide, after choir organizations.8
After meetings with art associations we decided to not only stay with the concepts, but to realize some tours. We wanted to try them out. Each art tour was created with the ongoing programs of the partner institutions and of other art institutions in mind, and connected to programs in Art Line. The art travelers visited the Laznia Centre for Contemporary Art (Laznia CCA) in both the Lower District and in the New Port district of Gdańsk. Both buildings are former bathhouses and have been transformed into art halls with extensive programs inside and outside the buildings. The growing Gdansk City Gallery (GGM), had no gallery space at all when we began planning for Art Line, and now GGM has three galleries in the old city center, which the groups visited. The groups also made visits to the Baltic Sea Cultural Centre in the town hall and depending upon the program also to exhibitions and their astounding location at St, John’s church.
The visits to the old Cistercian monastery in Oliwa where the peace treaty between Sweden and Poland was signed in 1660, provided many historical insights. One was reminded of the Swedish invasions and the Battle of Oliwa in the 1620s. The department of Modern Art of the Polish National Museum in Gdańsk is located in the Abbot’s Palace in Oliwa. There are temporary exhibitions and the permanent collection served as a background to the contemporary art scene. The collection includes works by artists like Piotr Uklański, Tadeusz Kantor, Leon Tarasewicz, Stanisław Wyspiański, Jacek Malczewski and Olga Boznańska. The travelers got a chance to wander along the largest wooden pier in Europe, while visiting the historic resort and spa town of Sopot along with a visit to the National Art Hall located in the newly renovated Spa House. The modernistic architecture of Gdynia is worth a guided tour which included a special guide who could share historic, social, cultural and economic insights.
The tours took place during recurrent programs in the Tricity, the International Night of Museums in May and the Narracje - the festival in November when thousands of people walk the streets to meet art and people in backyards. The Narrations Festival revitalizes new areas of the city for each edition and shows video art, interactive art or light art outdoors.
Art in semi-public space and art in residential areas
Art in the public space is a major topic for Art Line and visits to art projects in public spaces were also on the agenda during the art tours. Gdańsk is said to be the Polish capital of murals, because of all the monumental wall paintings in the city area and the constant creation of new ones. The residential area of Zaspa hosts a gallery of large-scale paintings on the facades of its apartment buildings. The concrete apartment blocks are located on a former airfield and the modernistic ideas are visible on the blocks of flats inherited from the socialist era. There are over thirty murals so far and new ones are being painted during the annual Monumental Art Festival. There are local guides who meet up with the art tour groups and tell the story of the murals from their perspectives. In Sweden, most cities have a zerotolerance policy for graffiti and employ the argument that if they were to arrange free walls for murals and graffiti, there would be spillover effects of graffiti all over the cities. Laznia CCA’s Outdoor Gallery in the city of Gdańsk creates a series of permanent artworks in urban spaces along with temporary workshops and programs for the young and old. The purpose is to revitalize and transform the neglected district of the Lower Town where Lazna CCA is situated. The art tour groups visited some of the public artworks realized through international competitions together with artists, planning engineers, architects and politicians.
Murals and the shipyard
The art tour group visited the Wyspa Institute of Art located in the heart of the shipyard. Wyspa produces exhibitions and programs where some reflect upon the site-specific area, upon politics, society and history. The shipyard of Gdańsk is an iconic place, which is now undergoing a large change in terms of city planning and reconstruction of the area. The visible story of the shipyard, the well known outline of the industrial landscape with cranes and large-scale architecture, is disappearing together with the symbol of the civil resistance movement contributing to the Walls coming down in Europe. The first art tour group had a chance to see the wall and the 250-meter-long mural by Iwona Zając that contained stories from the shipyard workers.
Slot machines, superstition and museums casting off The works onboard the Stena Line ferries have all been connected to the sea. As a shipping company, Stena Line stood bravely at the forefront when they dared to say yes to a complex artproject without any safe promises of what was to be shown onboard. All of the art works that were possible (for security reasons) to be shown onboard became part of the onboard exhibition. One performance was rejected by one of the ferry captains. It was a performance by the artist Anna Brag who had gathered superstitions from Baltic storytellers about things you should not do at sea, for example: you mustn’t whistle on the boat since you’ll bring on the wind. You mustn’t take any cheese with you; if you do there will be no fish. You should not bring women onboard. For the last presentation of Telling the Baltic onboard the ferries, Anna Brag wanted to gather the staff in the bow of the ferry to whistle Who can sail without wind, a folk song about being separated from a loved one. This superstition about not whistling onboard is alive among people at sea and the captain decided that we could not transgress this border out of respect. Brag’s animation of the superstitions, where she depicts women on boats who are whistling and in the possession of cheese, was however shown onboard. Another performance which we could not present onboard was, The Unrelenting Beauty of Disaster by Anna Steller, where she performed a mixture of the sinking catastrophe of the ship Wilhelm Gustloff in the Baltic Sea where over 9,000 people died, and a personal, almost drowning experience in a breathtaking dance performance. As a performance it was decided that it would be would be too intimate for passengers already onboard. However, a video of her live performance, was shown.
When examining the possible spaces for exhibitions onboard I made this proposal to Stena Line: “Let us bring your slot machines to the museums and art galleries, and take the collections from the museums to the ferry! It could help improve the poor budgets of the cultural institutions and improve the innovation for a shipping company”. The idea could not be realized now, but maybe in the future… How often does a ferry turn into an art hall or museum, and how often do the museums cast off and leave their comfort zones?
1. Professor Zenon Ciesielski during a preparatory Art Line workshop in Gdańsk in 2009. Ciesielski worked at the department of Scandinavian studies at the Gdańsk University and has published numerous books and texts about the culture history of Scandinavia and the relations between Sweden and Poland.
2. Obrist H.U. (2003), What do you expect from an art institution in the 21st Century?, Palais de Tokyo.
3. Grambye L. (2003), What do you expect from an art institution in the 21st Century?, Palais de Tokyo.
4. Sharing a sensibility: a conversation with Hou Hanru. 08/03/2013 www.artpractical.com
5. Sienkiewicz H. (1896), Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero.
6. Bjørkvold J.R. (2005), Den musiska människan, Stockholm, Runa Förlag.
7. Zatorre J.R., Salimpoor V.N., http://www.nytimes.com/ 2013/06/09/opinion/ sunday/why-music-makes-our-brain-sing.html
Exciting encounters with floating art “Dexerto, desabitato pel freddo“ – a wasteland, uninhabited because of the cold. That is how the Venetian map maker Giovanni Leardo described the Baltic Sea area in 1448. The depiction is a manifest example of the lack of interest and knowledge among south European geographers during the Renaissance. They were still using documents made by the ancient writer Ptolemy (150 A.D.) as their main source of information when describing northern Europe.
The Baltic reality at the time, however, was anything but
dexerto, desabitato or freddo. After the Vikings (700-
1000) had fared its waters, the southern part of the Baltic
Sea was taken over by the Hanseatic League for some 400
years. Paving way for geo-economic and geo-cultural connections
between the cities around its shores, it made the
Baltic space a vital economic area. One example was the
trade in herring from the Danish fishing towns of Skanör
and Falsterbo in the 13th century. (At that time, the southernmost
part of Sweden, the province Skåne, was Danish).
Thanks to the merchants in the leading Hanse-city of
Lübeck and their relations with salt traders from Lüneburg,
the herring could be preserved and transported in wooden
barrels all over Europe. The herring trade grew to be one of
the most important economic factors in the South Baltic
during the Middle Ages.
According to the French historian Fernand Braudel, “the solidity of the Hanse came (...) from the need to play the same economic game, from the common civilisation created by trading in one of the most frequented maritime areas of Europe (...) and lastly from a common language which made no small contribution to the unity of the Hanse. (...) All these links made for coherence, solidarity, habits in common and a shared pride“.1 The common language was Low German and the main purpose of the Hanse was, in fact, to control German interests in the Baltic. Thus, the German historian Thomas Hill has confirmed that the Hanse soon became part of the German national mythology.2 From a Scandinavian perspective, on the other hand, it was argued that the German dominance of the Hanse cut off the other Nordic states from fruitful encounters with the rest of Europe, and when a “new Hanse” was envisioned by leading German politicians after 1989, this idea was met with scepticism in Scandinavia.3
For the Scandinavians around the South Baltic, other historical realities were more important, like the earlier Viking period and the many wars fought between the Nordic states and against foreign intruders over the centuries, and the long period of Swedish dominance over the Baltic (1561-1721). But the South Baltic was not only a battlefield; it was also ravaged by storms and unruly waves. Under its surface, the bottom of the Baltic Sea is covered with ship wrecks. From the Middle Ages until today, there are some 40,000 ship wrecks solely in Danish waters. Only half of them have been located. Ships older than 100 years are seen as the property of the nearest state.
With such a busy and conflictious history, and with so many political, military and climatic upheavals, the South Baltic existence was anything but peaceful. The question is if this marked diversity also allowed a kind of unity, a kind of common Baltic identity, between the regions, cities and states along its shores. And if so – how far could you vitalize a South Baltic identity of the past in order to make the present South Baltic attractive for its inhabitants and for visitors?
The answer would be that there was always a common bond between the peoples living along its shores, who shared the benefits and drawbacks which their location implied. The Polish historian Franciszek Bujak has noted that there was a northern sea culture similar to that of the Mediterranean.4 Another common bond was the growth of powerful and wealthy cities during the Hanse; there was a city belt cultural identity – even a northern cosmopolitism. In most cities, several languages were spoken; in Viborg, for example, you had to speak Swedish, German, Russian and Finnish. Likewise, most of the South Baltic area went through the Reformation. The exceptions were Poland and Lithuania with their Catholicism and Russia with the Greek Orthodox Church.
The common bonds did not, however, exclude certain tensions between the East and West of the Baltic, between the Slavic and west European peoples, and this divergence became a barrier during the 20th century. This was further emphasized during the two world wars. After centuries of both growing together and growing apart, the east-west confrontation after WWII constituted another common bond – this time of a traumatic nature.
These are but some small glimpses of the diversified and challenging background in the South Baltic region. For the developers of this area the matter in question is what to do with it – how to proceed. In order to present the South Baltic as a unity, you have to know what you are presenting. It is important to find out how far the idea of the Baltic outside the area fits the idea that the Baltic peoples have of themselves. When it comes to having an identity and changing it, which may just mean changing priorities, you are actually talking about mental maps.5 Making a mental map of a place and making it more attractive does not, however, mean taking away the unpleasant parts of an already existing identity. There are lots of studies from different parts of Europe, where an old and often awkward identity is being kept as a part of a new identity. And there is no doubt about it: a strong cultural identity has a market value.6
The very first undertaking when creating, changing, modernising or strengthening a regional/urban identity is to start the communication within the territory in question in order to find common platforms. As we know, identity can be based on common geographic, historical, economical, and political experiences. Of particular significance are cultural identities – often as a kind of soft factor, in order to pave the way for further identity-making measures. For the people living in the South Baltic macro-region it was important to start to approach each other after the Wall came down.7 And they did so with different cultureand art-based initiatives, such as The Association of Castles and Museums around the Baltic sea, which is mainly centred on the South Baltic area.8 Since then many other initiatives and projects have followed.
Today almost 25 years after the opening up of the Iron Curtain, people around the South Baltic are not only satisfied with living in this area; they also want to show it to the world. And with cultural tourism as an economic factor of particular importance today they want to attract visitors. Studies from all parts of Europe show the growth of cultural tourism as a trade which is really booming.9 Europeans have started to discover their continent outside the most well-known tourist places. Of great attraction are short holidays, for example, over a long weekend. In that context, the South Baltic has many advantages. A crossing over the sea between different parts of the South Baltic no doubt makes a thrilling trip. In this way, you can see how close these places are culturally. In his booklet Castles around the Baltic Sea, Thorkild Kjaergaard has summed this up: “Probably nowhere is the paradox of a common culture amid bitter, centuries-long hostilities more clearly reflected than in the castles that stand along the border of the Baltic Sea. The castles bear witness through their architectural similarities to the cultural and artistic unity of our region“.10 What is particularly attractive from a cultural tourism point of view are the remnants of the old architecture with similarities like the red brick building materials used for Gothic churches, medieval castles, cloisters and city halls, and the warehouses and merchants offices along the streets in the South Baltic cities. Another attraction is sculptural art using wood as material. Thus, Lübeck was seen as a centre of medieval sculpture, with Bernt Notke as its most famous proponent. From his workshop in Lübeck, he also delivered wooden sculptures to Stockholm, Aarhus, Danzig and Reval (Tallinn). And walking around in the South Baltic big cities – in Poland, in the Baltic states, (in Riga and Dorpat), in southern Sweden, in Denmark and in northern Germany, (in Stralsund), you see monuments in honour of the Swedish king Gustav II Adolf on the top of military and political power just before the Thirty Years’ War (1618-48). The discovery of the South Baltic with its many advantages as a new cultural region on the fictious cultural map of Europe is a thrilling endeavour.11 With Central Europe still considered to be the centre of the continent, the South Baltic is being seen as a periphery. But within the framework of the Europeanization and regionalization processes in Europe, the peripheries and nation-state border areas are being upgraded with a growing amount of important cross border cooperation.12 In this context, the words of the great Polish-American author Czesław Miłosz (born in Lithuania 1911 and recipient of the Nobel Prize in literature 1980) should be remembered. “The vital tasks have to be taken over by the peripheries, by the less illustrious nations, because the others have grown slack”.13 Another specific undertaking is to develop cultural infrastructures in the South Baltic region, e.g. not only the cultural historical heritage, but current cultural activities of all kinds and in many places – theatres, music groups, museums, concert halls, libraries, archives, choirs, art workshops and galleries, universities, media, etc. In this context, it should not be forgotten that very vital parts of cultural infrastructures are the artists themselves or rather individuals with creative professions. Thus, when planning for cultural infrastructures, politicians should be keen on trying to attract creative people to come and live in the region. In this context, an initiative like Art Line, joining 14 partners (cities, institutions and regions) in five countries is a perfect example of how culture and the arts can attract visitors. Since its founding in 2010, it has highlighted the relation between the historical heritage of this region and artistic work today. In Telling the Baltic, stories from the South Baltic, as told or inherited by fishermen, dockers, skippers, etc. inspire artists to create works of art based on the past. In this way, old stories come to life with the help of modern means and technology. Thus, using modern ferries as important and unusual stages, we can talk about floating art. With all the secrets hidden under the water surface this is a way of digging them up and showing them around – in and to the world.
So far even after 1989, the view of this part of Europe has been quite one-sided. Even if the perception of the region has not been quite as barren as Leardo described, the image of the South of Baltic has been rather dull. It was not a place that attracted many tourists. This is now changing. There is a turning-the-tide-process going on in the South Baltic, which is a most satisfying development, as this area has a lot to offer for cultural tourists. It is a most thrilling discovery.
Lisbeth Weihe-Lindeborg, B.A. (arts and culture), Ph.D. (political science). Writer, journalist.
1. Braudel F. (1984), The Perspective of the World. Civilization & Capitalism 15th-18th Century, London: Fontana Press, p. 103.
2. Hill T. (1996), Die ‘neue Hanse’: Rückblick eines Historikers auf einen Mythos, in Mare Balticum, Ostsee-Akademie Lübeck-Travemünde, pp. 15–22.
4. Hackmann J. (1996), Not only ‘Hansa’. Images of History in the Baltic Sea, in Mare Balticum, Ostsee-Akademie Lübeck-Travemünde, p. 28.
5. Gould P., White R. (1992), Mental Maps, London: Routledge.
6. Lindeborg L. (2010), Med kulturen som ledstjärna. Europeiska städer och regioner i förvandling, in: Kulturens kraft för regional utveckling, Lindeborg L., Lindkvist L. (eds), Stockholm: SNS Förlag, pp. 423–434.
7. The Wall (the so-called Iron Curtain dividing East and West Europe) came down in 1989–90.
8. There are some 45 castles in Denmark, Estonia, Finland, Germany, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Russia and Sweden belonging to this association, which was founded in 1991. For more information, see www.visitcastles.eu
9. Lindeborg L. (2010), Med kulturen som ledstjärna. Europeiska städer och regioner i förvandling, pp. 447–449.
10. Kjaergaard T. (1994), Castles around the Baltic Sea, The Association of Castles and Museums around the Baltic Sea, p. 5.
11. Lindeborg L. (2010), Med kulturen som ledstjärna. Europeiska städer och regioner i förvandling, pp. 402–406.
12. Weihe-Lindeborg L. (2005), Zum regionalen System. Stellenwert der Versammlung der Regionen Europas, Marburg: Tectum Wissenschaftsverlag, pp. 171-183.
13. Miłosz C. (1977), Emperor of the Earth. Modes of Eccentric Vision.
Lindeborg L. (1990), European Identity as a Cultural Objective, in: Gidlund J. & Törnqvist G. (eds), Umeå: Centre for Regional Studies.
Lindeborg L. (1995), Regionalt samarbete i Europa – med tyska erfarenheter, Stockholm: ERU (Expertgruppen för forskning om regional utveckling).
Lindeborg L. (2013), Where the roads begin. A northern renaissance around the Barents Sea, in: The Value of Arts and Culture for regional development
Lindeborg L., Lindkvist L. (eds), London & New York: Routledge.