The dark and quiet engulfed me, overwhelming, at first, until my eyes adjusted to the light and I could make out the skeletons frolicking over the walls. The only sounds came from the overloud footsteps echoing around the room. As I walked around the decorations were almost too much to take in despite the low light. This was Emanuel Vineland’s tomb.

I had walked from the Centre of Oslo to find the unprepossessing museum, appearing as a country school house or church hall from the outside. Although no church hall has all the windows and doorways sealed to hold the ashes of just one man. The building was first erected as a museum but Emanuel decided it should serve also as a mausoleum and dedicated large periods of his life to decorating his final resting place.

It was a warm spring day that I took the walk to Slemdal but all that disappeared as I entered the dark world created inside. The temperature dropped, sounds became muffled and the fresco of skeletons danced across the walls (ok … they weren’t all dancing … some where doing things much more primal). Some of the scenes depicted curvy women, still wearing their flesh and sculptures lurked in dark corners. The whole of human existence was captured with a particular focus on both conception and death. It was almost meditative.

I visited twice more… once with the two most talkative people I know. it was refreshing to have them silenced and even they seemed calmer for the experience.

The final time was for a concert or gong bath. I went with two friends and we joined a crowd of people with pillows and blankets. A group of gongs and musicians were in the middle of the room and we lay around occupying all the spaces. The candle light promising a relaxing inward looking experience.

I hated it. My initial mindfulness was replaced by nausea as the gongs washed over us messing with my sense of place and balance. I had to sit up despite the instructions to lie down. My eyes were open as I took in the room, placing my hands on the stone floor as if to ground me. However, I was on my own! My friends found it a novel and relaxing experience. A place where language no longer mattered and we could understand each other.

https://www.emanuelvigeland.museum.no/index.htm

The museum is only open on Sundays and is well worth a trip to experience being inside somebody else’s mind.