Watching a feature length erotic film in a room full of strangers isn’t usually on my Saturday afternoon itinerary, but the Oslo Erotic Festival made sure to change that. September 9th marked the inaugural year of OEF, which describes itself as “the first ever erotic film & art festival held in the northern region.” With a range of activities from noon until the wee hours of the night, the festival offered a diverse selection of sensual, sexy and thought-provoking delights across the entirety of SALT, creating a space for alternative forms of erotic content.

Posters for the Oslo Erotic Festival around the vicinity of SALT. Photo: Hanna C. Nes / PRESSET.

The following interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

I was lucky enough to sit down with festival organizer Sara Vienna, who is also the founder of EVRYSOME, a consent oriented community space that provides an alternative to the mainstream club scene. “[The festival] actually started as a response to a report that came out in 2021 that was about children and media. [The report] said that the amount of kids, some as young as 13 years old, that watch mainstream porn has increased quite a lot” she says, when I ask her about the genesis of Oslo Erotic. “It’s been a long process within sexual liberation and diversity and questioning how we’re affected by mainstream porn and media. That report was kind of the last straw for us. It’s so damaging for kids to watch mainstream porn as it’s where they get their role models. It’s their only source of content and understanding of how sex is, what gender roles are, how bodies look and how the connection between humans is between adults.” Sara stressed the lack of sex education in Norwegians schools and a void in public dialogue as pushing the team to create OEF. “We wanted to create something, a festival, starting with adults.”

Exploring Augmented Reality art through the Connected.ART app. Photo: Hanna C. Nes / PRESSET.

So why erotic art?

Erotic art has a long, fascinating history. Think of the Kama Sutra, Japanese shunga, and the proliferation of erotic text in 18th century Britain. For millennia, erotic content “has been used for reflection, artistic approaches, expression, and philosophy,” says Sara. “Using art as a medium is what we see as the best way of conveying a message and for people to receive a message, start talking and processing something. It hits us emotionally.”

What does the festival strive to create a space for?

– We want to really focus on diversity [and] normalize diversity in general, but also on the screen in erotic art and erotic content [through] different bodies, ethnicities, gender, sexualities, ages. We want to bring emotions into sex. There’s very little talk about emotions in sex which is what we see as one of the cornerstones in sex and what makes sex good. We almost never talk about how we can connect with our emotions. How do we connect with our bodies, connect to each other in sex and also allow people to see that on the screen? [We want to show] erotic content that isn’t deprived of emotions, consent, care and intimacy. [We want to discuss] ethics within the porn industry, talk about porn addiction, kids and sexuality, and how we can better understand our own boundaries.

How does the festival fit with Oslo’s current queer and sexually liberated spaces?

– Det Gode Selskab and Evrysome have been in the club scene for many years and have experience within being a part of developing a more sexually liberating club culture. That interest started with inspiration from Berlin and London and all the big cities we had to go to to experience that. We wanted to bring it back [as] a lot of different people in queer environments have wanted to create that in Oslo. Creating a space that is more sexually liberating comes with a lot of responsibility and an understanding of how to facilitate what people understand consent is. It also comes with awareness around queerness, human rights, equality, consent, and liberation of the body [but] I think we can't really reach any of those without talking about sex and understanding.

This was immediately evident upon my arrival at SALT, where I was greeted by an enthusiastic team of consent workers (referred to as “siblings” by the festival) who ran us by the patron expectations for the day’s activities. Sara mentions this during our chat, emphasizing that “consent is a very big part of this festival […] [we] trained the guards and the staff at SALT to understand what kind of consent culture we advocate for and expect from the venue so that we all collaborate on taking action if we see something happening. We want to create a consensual space where we’re trying to make people more aware about boundaries and how to interact with other humans. We do have immediate consequences if something happens and [so] people feel like they’re taken seriously.” Throughout the day I saw many friendly siblings chatting with patrons and making sure that everything was running smoothly and comfortably.

A packed screening room for A Mes Amours. Photo: Hanna C. Nes / PRESSET.

I asked Sara which activities or films she was looking forward to. “I must say I’m extremely impressed by our programming. It’s international and the top director [in the porn industry], Erika Lust, really supported us” she says. Lust’s work is part of a focus at the festival, with her newest feature screening in addition to several of her shorts. With too much programming to sift through, Sara summarizes that “there are 30 films, 18 directors, 18 artists from around the world that you can experience through augmented reality VR” (in collaboration with Connected.Art, an app that offers artists a platform to digitally showcase their work) before concluding that she was “very much looking forward to the Barbara Hammer retrospective.”

Curated by Helene Eggen, there were plenty of cinematic offerings on the schedule. I caught about 30 minutes of A Mes Amours, a French porn production about a couple who host a sociology student during their summer vacation and are introduced to pleasures beyond the boundaries of their previously monogamous and heteronormative lives. Eggen’s pre-screening introduction positioned the film as “strong, powerful and inclusive”, rooted in the ethical alternative porn movement. The room, decked out with bean bag chairs and pillow covered benches, was full of spectators of all ages. I wasn’t sure what the general feeling would be to watch a hardcore film with others but the audience was respectful and attentive during the time I was there, just like any other ole movie screening (which shouldn’t be surprising, right?). It was fascinating to catch details in the sex scenes that illustrated what Sara had said earlier about emotional intimacy in sex. Certain moments captured onscreen, be they a gaze or a tender hand hold, felt almost enlightening from an erotic film. Despite this, my friend and I both found that aspects of A Mes Amours’ ethos read as a bit heavy-handed. However, it was thought provoking to watch something that combined both graphic sexual content with an intellectual angle.

The real star of the daytime programming was the Barbara Hammer retrospective. Comprised of 7 short films (all shot on 16mm) by the late pioneering lesbian director, the audience was fully submerged in Hammer’s avant garde world. In her introduction, Eggen stressed Hammer’s filmography as some of the “earliest and most comprehensive work of art and depictions of lesbian love, identity and sexuality ever made.” Her work isn’t for everyone, as it offers unflinching, raw, but frequently humorous takes on lesbian sex and women’s roles in the 1970s and 80s. The first short, Menses, featured a group of women engaging in menstrual rituals that ranged from dropping eggs from their vaginas to drinking blood out of chalices. Spliced into these pseudo-pagan performances were clips of the women in contemporary 1970s garb emerging victoriously from the supermarket with packs of Tampax, Modesse and Playtex tucked under their arm. Another short, Double Strength, focused on the development of a relationship between Hammer and a lover. The women speak adoringly to each other through voice-over, while the camera takes on Hammer’s gaze upon her lover, whether she’s being spun around on a trapeze from below or dancing in the nude. It’s a tender glance into the love between two women and their insular world. The final piece in the retrospective was No No Nooky T.V from 1987, a computer based work with an automated male voice stating all kinds of dirty phrases in flashing neon. Funny and engaging, No No Nooky T.V cleverly critiques digitization through a feminist lens and is also a playground for Hammer’s lust to run amok in a new medium.

Interspersed throughout the film screenings were talks hosted in the Bazaar. I managed to catch a fascinating and engaging discussion about boundaries in Oslo’s burgeoning sex party scene. Moderated by the charismatic Samaj Ai Bandéh and featuring Amy T. Dybing, Clare Zhou and Christiane Grelland, the conversation covered the rise in sexually liberated spaces, the importance of intimacy and how creating boundaries in a sexual setting can help with establishing boundaries in all aspects of one’s life. In an era of extremely digital hypersexualization, this panel was a breath of fresh air and a nice addition to the screenings. The rest of the festival’s programme offerings included live shibari, burlesque and pole performances by local artists, and a clothing optional sauna. Everyone I spoke to throughout the day was kind, enthusiastic and happy to be in such a warm, inviting space.

Photobooth fun. Photo: Hanna C. Nes / PRESSET.

I thought it was fascinating to host the event at a sprawling multidisplinary site like SALT due to the sheer visibility and accessibility of the location. I asked Sara about SALT’s role in the festival’s mandate: “I think it’s important to create spaces that are open to the general public. We’re lacking that open space in Norway. Everyone is welcome. SALT is definitely a part of that process as there’s a lot of different benefits with all the rooms.”

SALT’s multiple buildings (perfect for both partying, screenings and presentations), outdoor seating area and communal cushion-y Bazaar allowed plenty of flexibility. “We want to create different energies and make it as accessible as possible,” Sara says. “You can choose and pick and not feel forced to look at something. It’s a part of a venue that offers a lot of different things. There’s a lot of different layers for us to create a space where you feel you can cater to different needs.”

I left in the early evening feeling inspired and invigorated by both provocative art and enlightening conversations, both onstage and with patrons/employees. I cannot stress enough how lovely the energy was at OEF, despite feeling somewhat overwhelmed to engage in such intimate media and subject matter with strangers. With such a successful and diverse first year under their belts now, I have no doubt that next year’s instalment of Oslo Erotic will be a huge hit and a testament to the burgeoning community in the city.

Love in the Afternoon