Zoi Johansson, the polymath

Zoi Johansson is a 2025 MFA graduate of Konstfack, who first caught our attention with her monumental reliefs at last year’s degree show at Färgfabriken. We caught up with her as she is preparing new works for a group exhibition soon opening at Bio Aspen. “I’ve been very occupied with the topic of observing versus living,” she says. “The sometimes morally indefensible passivity of the viewer is a very interesting perspective for me. Bio Aspen feels like an amazing place for these works to play out their part.”

C-P: Before we dive into the present, could you tell us a little bit about your background, which I know is very extensive, both in terms of education and the places you’ve lived? Some of it we haven't had time to dissect yet.

Z.J: I graduated in 2020 from the Art Academy in Oslo, where I did my Bachelor’s degree, but that wasn’t the beginning, of course. Before Oslo, I attended preparatory art schools such as Grafikskolan and Nyckelviksskolan. I also lived in Havana, Cuba, where I took painting lessons for half a year. While in Oslo, I felt somewhat restless, so I managed to do two Erasmus exchanges: one semester at the Athens School of Fine Art and another one at Weißensee in Berlin.

After KhiO, I came back to Stockholm to sort of rest from the art world. I started working in the construction industry and stayed there for three years before applying for a Master’s at Konstfack. During that time, I mostly focused on writing and reading. My time at Konstfack happened so fast, and now it has almost been a year since my master’s solo show!

C-P: After a few years at KHiO, how did you find your time at Konstfack?

Z.J: I was very happy with my time at Konstfack. I was expecting a very competitive environment, but I actually found honest friendships and deep inspiration. At KhiO, my practice didn’t align with the institutional system, and I had to spend more time fighting for the right to express myself than actually working. It was a very complicated situation.

C-P: An interest that I believe we both share is making art accessible to a greater audience, not just to the usual suspects so to speak. In what different ways does this manifest in your artistic practice?

Z.J: Well, I have many answers to that! I’ll have to write an essay and come back to you…

Honestly, I think my practice is very much shaped by my working-class background. I often think about my father, who went to school until he was 11 and then started working full-time to support his family, and I wonder what it would be like for him to experience art. So, art-making and art-experiencing have never been obvious practices for me. Maybe that is why I search for spaces that are not obvious art spaces?

At the same time, I also think it’s very hard to gain access to art institutions like galleries, so I try to create alternative options, preferably together with other artists. It often results in non-conventional venues. In 2018, before Kolsyrefabriken in Liljeholmen was demolished, I did a performance there called BGL – Bostäder Genom Livet, where I played the role of a real estate agent showcasing the building. In November last year, I organized a two-day exhibition called Sleep Over at BASIS Konstskola together with some classmates from Konstfack.

C-P: What are some of the themes that your work is informed by?

Z.J: I have been swimming around in a pool of topics like class, autonomy, and the “observer’s role” for more than ten years now—ever since I was first confronted with art at preparatory school.

My Master’s project was set in a theatrical world of melancholy. I was working on finding stories that could paint a picture of what happens when someone tries to become an autonomous person. I rediscovered a story that I thought was the ultimate story of self-rule—a circle dance called “Thánati Langemán” (which in Pontic Greek means “death jump”) from the Black Sea region.

Another example is a text piece called Studier i klasstillhörighet, in which I ranked my classmates at KhiO based on speculative ideas about who was the richest and who was the poorest.

C-P: I am delighted to be working with you on Mirer at Bio Aspen, for which we’ve had a close dialogue. Aspen is also not your typical white-cube art space, so I was very happy that you were drawn to its distinct character. What will you be showing, and how have you approached the premises?

Z.J: I will be showing one work from the Sleep Over exhibition. The other works include two reliefs I haven’t shown yet and two sculptures that I am currently working on. They are mostly made with lime plaster, which is the material I primarily work with.

When we visited Aspen together, you pointed out the two small projector gaps placed high up on a wall, and I immediately thought I had to put something there—something that observes the observers. I have been very occupied with the topic of “observing” as opposed to “living.” The sometimes morally indefensible passivity of the viewer is a very interesting perspective for me. Bio Aspen becomes an amazing place for these works to play out their part.

C-P: In the connection to the exhibition, you’ll be presenting a new edition of Ät mina ord (Eat My Words), co-presented with Kristina Gustafsson. Tell me a little bit about your own poetry practice and what we can expect that night.

Z.J: My practice as a poet is very different from my artistic practice. When I write, I can be really truthful—even when I lie.

The poetry evening is a recurring event that Kristina and I have been organizing since 2020 in different spaces. We started it because we wanted a free forum for poetry readings. We wanted ambitious poets—who maybe hadn’t published yet—to use our stage, give each other feedback, and boost each other’s confidence. In this edition of Ät mina ord, we will, as usual, have a relaxed evening where the audience can enjoy the words of our selected poets.

C-P: In our conversations, you’ve alluded to some epic events that you hosted back in Oslo. What draws you to performance? Any fun anecdotes you care to share from those events?

Z.J: Even though performance is not my main practice, I always tend to dream about performative work. I guess I like staging alternative scenarios. In Oslo, I did a lot of happenings and performances influenced by the Situationist International (ed's note: a revolutionary alliance made of artists, intellectuals and political theorists in the late 1950's to early 1970's). A performative work could lead to a zine—that led to a workshop—that led to a big mural painting—that led to The Autonomous Showbar—that led to an immersive agitprop (ed's note: political propaganda in art and literature) play.

Once, I hosted a performance evening inside a large elevator, and on each floor, there was a different performance taking place outside the elevator doors.

A fun fact about my time at KhiO is that I almost got kicked out of the academy!

C-P: Besides the upcoming show and event at Aspen, what else is coming up on the horizon?

Z.J: Right now, I am in the middle of writing a short story about working in construction. The story is set in a luxurious apartment, ironically neighboring De Nio’s (ed's note: a literary society with nine members elected for life) house.

All images courtesy of the artist.

Mirer opens at Bio Aspen on March 18, 2026.

Ät Mina Ord with invited poets will be presented in connection to the exhibition at Aspen on April 1, 2026.