Modern art came late in Iceland. On the Icelandic cultural scene, the 1950s were marked by heated debates as young writers tried to introduced unrhymed poetry to a nation whose hellishly complicated rules of metre and alliteration had been honoured and expanded upon for more than a thousand years and were seen by many to form the core of the Icelanders' identity. Young artists, most of the fresh from studies in the heady atmosphere of post-war Paris, exhibited abstract paintings and received a similarly chilly reception. In late 1959, a group of young composers and musicians formed an association, Musica Nova, to introduce modern music in Reykjavik; they, too, had an uphill battle, even though their first concert prudently included a Beethoven quintet to mollify traditionalists. Musica Nova struggled on, introducing works by young Icelanders such as Jón Ágeirsson, Leifur Þórarinsson, Fjölnir Stefánsson, Magnús Blöndal Jóhannsson and Þorkell Sigurbjörnsson to audiences and critics that remained skeptical.

In may 1965 an article in Morgunblaðið, Reykjavik's most widely-read newspaper, announcing a Musica Nova concert with composer and pianist Nam June Paik and the American cellist Charlotte Moorman. The article notes Moorman's credentials as a distinguished Julliard graduate and a photographs shows her playing in a white dress with Paik seated thoughtfully at a grand piano. While the text notes that the pair will be assisted by Robot 456 and promises "new and curious music" there was nothing to prepare readers for the all-out Fluxus performance that Paik and Moorman had prepared in Lindarbær, a small hall in Reykjavik. Composer Atli Heimir Sveinsson and Dieter Roth had influenced Musica Nove to invite them.

After the concert, another article appeared entitled "Clownish Antics in Lindarbær". The text, however, is remarkable restrained: "The Korean played the piano with a pacifier in his mouth, smeared himself in foam, splashed around in a washtub full of water and drank water from his shoe ... The woman played the cello and then climbed up into an barrel and disappeared into it. A while later she came out of the barrel, soaking wet, and started playing the piano again. At that point the Korean dropped his pants on stage, sat down on a chair and turned slowly in circles while music ws played from a tape. Many had left before it came to this part in the programme but as the nude scene began, more rushed to the door." Accompanying photographs show Moorman climbing into the barrel and Paik, fully clothed, with Robot 345. The article concludes simply: "Entrance to this unusual show cost fifty kronur."

The restrained tone of the article, however, was amply compensated for by the intensity of the scandal as it spread around the town. Musica Nova was being ridiculed and its members saw their paitient work of five years in gradually introducing Icelandic music lovers to contemporary composers being undone in just a few days. Finally, they issued a statement in which they excuse the concert as an "unforeseeable accident". The statements, assuring readers that the behaviour of its last guests has nothing to do with the aims of Musica Nova, was printed in Morgunbladid and other Reykjavik dailies.

These rather shabby beginnings are often cited as the first time Icelanders were exposed to the "New Art" of Fluxus, concepts and multi-media performance. The next few years certainly saw th new art take root in Iceland with the emergence of artists such as Magnus Palsson, Sigurdur Gudmundsson, Kristjan Gudmundsson and Hreinn Friðfinnsson. In the 1970s, there was a steady stream of exhibitions, concerts and performances by visitors from abroad, encouraged and aided by Dieter Roth and younger Icelandic artists who had studied abroad and developed their own connections there. But in May 1965 it was still all a bit much for the people of Reykjavik, still struggling with free verse and non-figurative painting.