WHITENESS is a 105-minute multi-form cinematic work premiering at Raindance Film Festival 2026. Conceived by Alessio Cappelletti, the film fuses narrative fiction, archival propaganda, animation, satire, and Southern Gothic horror into a single destabilised structure.
Rather than telling a unified story, it unfolds as four formal collisions—each revealing how images construct, distort, and reassemble historical truth.
From upper-class satire (And That’s That), to WWII propaganda (Teamwork), to banned racist animation (Scrub Me Mama With a Boogie Beat), and culminating in Southern Gothic horror (Wretched Earth), the film traces how ideology survives through repetition, aesthetic framing, and cultural memory.
Ambitious, fractured, and deliberately unstable, WHITENESS rejects narrative closure in favour of structural tension, positioning itself as one of the most formally radical selections at Raindance 2026.

Rarely has a documentary confronted questions of identity, bodily autonomy and human dignity with such intellectual rigour and emotional grace. Let Us Be is at once an urgent examination of human rights and a deeply affecting meditation on what it means to inhabit a self that exists beyond the limits of convention. Refusing both polemic and sentimentality, Viviane D’Avilla’s film illuminates the lived realities of intersex people with remarkable clarity, and it is the kind of work that does not leave the mind once the credits have rolled: it lingers, buzzing with thought, a genuine eureka of feeling and insight. As Lyss Ball, the film’s heroine, suggests, these lives are rendered with extraordinary sharpness in their dual reality, moving through everyday existence while also revealing something larger, braver and more expansive about what it means to be human. That is the film’s groundbreaking conclusion, and one from which we have much to discover.

A practice where anatomy is not metaphor but material, and mortality is neither abstracted nor softened for comfort—Morten Viskum arrives with work that refuses the decorative instincts of contemporary culture.
At the exhibition, where concept too often floats free of consequence, his work anchors itself in the uneasy weight of what remains: bodies, memory, and the ethics of looking. Neither provocation for spectacle nor irony for distance, it is a sustained confrontation with presence itself—what it means to see, to remember, and to accept the material reality of life once it is no longer lived.

SOHO REZANEJAD: WHEN COPENHAGEN STOPS PLAYING NICE
Scandinavia has mastered polished pop. Soho Rezanejad has little interest in behaving.
Born to Iranian parents in a refugee camp outside Copenhagen, the musician has become one of the Nordic underground’s most compelling voices, blending industrial electronica, cinematic soundscapes and haunting vocals into music that refuses easy definition.
In this exclusive feature, Rezanejad reflects on identity, artistic freedom, exile, collaboration, and the creative communities quietly reshaping Copenhagen’s cultural landscape. Through intimate conversation and striking photography, the feature explores the city beyond its postcard perfection—where independent venues, artists and experimental musicians continue to redefine what Scandinavian music can sound like.
Part cultural portrait, part music profile and part visual essay, this is Copenhagen through the eyes of one of its most fearless artists.

James Lazar Braathen represents a rare position in contemporary Nordic fashion: emotionally maximal, structurally controlled, and deliberately unbothered by Scandinavian branding expectations.
In conversation, he rejects fixed identity in favour of “daydreamed” construction, framing fashion as obsession-driven authorship rather than product design. His silhouettes combine disciplined sensuality with historical romanticism, while his references move between Oslo’s architectural fragments and cinematic European nostalgia.
The result is a designer operating in tension—between elegance and excess, feminism and fantasy, control and creative possession. Not Scandinavian minimalism. Something sharper, stranger, and far less obedient

Benedicte Aubert Ringnes’ “ARNOLD” positions the body as both icon and image-system—where bodybuilding, classical sculpture, and digital collage collapse into a single visual language of control and distortion. Presented at Gallery A, Oslo, the exhibition reworks Arnold Schwarzenegger not as celebrity, but as cultural framework: a figure through which masculinity, symmetry, and spectacle are continuously reframed under post-digital conditions. Drawing on pop art lineage, experimental film, and Photoshop-based construction, Ringnes produces works that resist resolution in favour of layered instability. The result is a sharply contemporary inquiry into how images construct power, and how power is sustained through repetition, editing, and visual myth.

Arthur Sopin & Andreas Rod’s No, It Is Not; Not Always (DT500mag, London) is a sharp post-conceptual rupture disguised as an exhibition — where portraiture, performance, and moving image collapse into controlled instability. Born from a 150+ artist open call, it reframes eccentricity as structure, not exception, and turns identity into a flickering system rather than a fixed subject. Positioned between Venice Biennale discourse and post-internet fatigue, it doesn’t explain the contemporary condition — it destabilises it, elegantly and without apology.

Shoot Gallery’s new space in Oslo’s Barcode district reframes fine art photography as infrastructure rather than display—where curatorial authorship, branding logic, and market intelligence converge into a single, controlled visual system. At the centre, Helene Gulaker Hansen articulates a distinctly European model of the gallery: less white cube, more editorial machine for producing photographic value, taste, and international legibility.

Stefan has spent a lifetime looking at the world through the frame of a camera—but insists photography was never really about images. It was always about questions. In this wide-ranging conversation, the veteran photojournalist reflects on philosophy, technology and the unsettling speed at which truth itself is being rewritten. From the ethics of artificial intelligence to the fragility of perception in an image-saturated age, he argues that the real crisis is not information overload, but the erosion of critical thinking. Neither utopian nor dystopian, his view of the future is disarmingly simple: technology is neutral—people are not.

Hilde Marstrander has spent decades moving between fashion, media and cultural commentary—shaping taste as much as reporting on it. From London runways to Nordic editorial power desks, she has helped define how Scandinavia sees itself through style, debate and image. Now, her perspective turns back on a rapidly shifting fashion landscape where authority is fragmented, and visibility is everything.

A night that begins in showroom melancholy and ends deep inside Oslo’s club circuitry—moving from curated fashion haze at Soyaaulait, through Jaeger’s late-night spill, to the kinetic pressure of The Villa. At the centre of it all, Berlin techno authority Ellen Allien and Oslo’s own Della reshape the dancefloor into something less like escapism and more like shared emotional infrastructure—where house, techno and human connection blur into one continuous pulse.