The Polar Bear, the Puffin, and a Street Art Encounter in Reykjavík

As a street art enthusiast, and maybe a bit of an art history nerd, I always get excited when the urban landscape is interrupted by imagination, color, and questions. In Israel, especially in cities like Netanya, there’s already an official policy of supporting street art. I remember how once, while I was photographing a mural at a crosswalk, the mayor, a truly impressive woman , stopped me and asked if I liked it. It was a surreal, almost magical moment. The city itself was checking its pulse through its art.

And then, I found myself in Iceland, standing in front of a mural by Juan Arctic — a local artist who seems to have become a phenomenon. His massive polar bear caught my eye in the middle of the city, as if it had wandered in from the ice. In the background: shimmering northern lights like a dreamscape. Next to them, a puffin with an almost human, slightly comical expression. I couldn’t stop thinking: why the bear? It doesn’t even live here.

But maybe that’s the point. The polar bear has become a global symbol, of climate crisis, of the edge of the world, both literally and metaphorically. It’s a threatening image, yes, but also a reminder. And maybe those lights bursting from within it aren’t just danger — maybe they’re hope too.

I spotted other works of his around the city, a Super Mario Bros. fence, a cat floating in space. Always something familiar, out of context, placed into a restrained, icy street. It’s funny, surreal, and makes me think.

Some locals told me they’re offended. That it turns the city into a tourist set. I understand, it can feel like something’s been taken over. But for me, when street art sparks conversation, within us and between us, that’s when it truly succeeds.