Kate Shaw’s exhibition Fjallkonan, named after the symbolic female personification of Iceland, emerged from her month-long residency in Reykjavík and stands as a visually and conceptually rich reflection on the land, culture, and politics of Iceland. Drawing from the country's volcanic landscapes and its progressive, matriarchal cultural heritage, Shaw created luminous, resin-coated paintings that are both geological and psychological. The works—such as Asdis, Freyja, and Ferli—do not depict specific places, but rather distill the sublime essence of the terrain through abstracted, marbled forms and surreal color palettes. 

In these works, mountains rise from still pools like glowing apparitions, evoking both ancient geological time and the illusionary nature of memory and myth.The cultural backdrop of Iceland plays a vital role in Fjallkonan. As articulated in William Stover’s accompanying essay, Shaw was deeply inspired by Iceland’s societal reverence for nature, its strong gender equality, and its pagan past that celebrates the natural world rather than divine hierarchy. Iceland’s identification with the land is not metaphorical, but deeply woven into its national identity—Fjallkonan herself is a manifestation of this, a symbol of the landscape’s femininity, power, and continuity. Shaw juxtaposes this ethos with global tensions—Australia’s political climate, Russia’s homophobic laws, and increasing global environmental degradation—highlighting how place can embody resistance, balance, and potential. Her works act not just as landscapes, but as landscapes infused with the cultural and political aura of Icelandic modernity.

In Fjallkonan, Shaw bridges abstraction and landscape painting to interrogate the contradiction between our inherent connection to nature and our continuous alienation from it. Her technique—pouring vivid acrylics to mimic molten rock and glacial flows—suggests creation itself, aligning her with the alchemical forces that shaped Iceland. The resulting works hover between utopia and dystopia, seducing with psychedelic beauty while hinting at ecological fragility. In this way, Fjallkonan is not just a meditation on Iceland but a broader call to reimagine our relationship with the land—an aesthetic and ethical imperative that is at once ancient and urgently contemporary.