Excavating AmerikA

Eirik Fatland

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Once upon a time, in the centre of Oslo, there was a place called AmerikA. Spelled just like that - a "k" instead of a "c", and the last A capitalized. If you wrote it by hand, you would circle that last A, graffiti-style. It was neither a continent nor a country, but a smaller place, a single location: A large, magical garbage heap which came alive, pulsating with light and life, attracting the crazy, the destitute, the incomprehensibly visionary. It grew out of the asphalt to exist briefly but intensely, for one weekend of the autumn of 2000, before it disappeared - far more suddenly than it had appeared. It was called, by one visitor, "the greatest thing in Norwegian art since Munch". And it was a larp.