blog
Welcome to my blog. This is a place where I think out loud, show you what I’m up to in the studio, share impressions of inspiring events or everyday moments that moved me. Some entries are carefully curated essays, others are just a few thoughts, sometimes written in English and sometimes in German.
Featured posts
newest blog entries:
3 JAHRE NONNE 11 | Ein Fest
3 Jahre Begegnungsort
Vor drei Jahren eröffneten wir - Nora Kovats & Alvaro-Luca Ellwart – ein gemeinsames Atelier-, Labor- und Showroom-Hybrid für unser gestalterisches Schaffen in Bamberg.
Drei Jahre NONNE 11 - das sind drei Jahre Kulturplattform, Begegnungsort und Ideenhub. Hier finden sich stetig weiter entwickelnde Veranstaltungen statt, bei denen gestalterische Disziplinen und schöpferische Ansätze nicht mehr in gesonderten Kategorien gedacht werden.
Im Atelier NONNE 11 entstehen tragbare Schmuckstücke, kleine Kunstobjekte und Grafiken, die bewegende Geschichten erzählen oder einfach verzaubern; es gibt Workshops zum Eintauchen in die alten Handwerkstechniken, Vorführungen zum Miterleben, Abendessen, Konzerte, Artist Talks und Ausstellungen. Selten gewordene Handwerkskunst wird gelebt und mit modernem Design zeitgenössisch weitergedacht.
3 Jahre NONNE 11
23. Juli - 11. August 2024
3 Jahre Begegnungsort
Vor drei Jahren eröffneten wir - Nora Kovats & Alvaro-Luca Ellwart – ein gemeinsames Atelier-, Labor- und Showroom-Hybrid für unser gestalterisches Schaffen in Bamberg.
Drei Jahre NONNE 11 - das sind drei Jahre Kulturplattform, Begegnungsort und Ideenhub. Hier finden sich stetig weiter entwickelnde Veranstaltungen statt, bei denen gestalterische Disziplinen und schöpferische Ansätze nicht mehr in gesonderten Kategorien gedacht werden.
Im Atelier NONNE 11 entstehen tragbare Schmuckstücke, kleine Kunstobjekte und Grafiken, die bewegende Geschichten erzählen oder einfach verzaubern; es gibt Workshops zum Eintauchen in die alten Handwerkstechniken, Vorführungen zum Miterleben, Abendessen, Konzerte, Artist Talks und Ausstellungen. Selten gewordene Handwerkskunst wird gelebt und mit modernem Design zeitgenössisch weitergedacht.
Immaterielles Kulturerbe Handwerk
Eine unserer wichtigsten Missionen ist das Bewahren des Handwerks als immaterielles Kulturerbe. Besondere oder traditionsreiche Techniken – wie etwa der manuelle Sandguss oder das Emaillieren - werden bei uns nicht nur gepflegt und weitergegeben, sondern auch direkt erlebbar gemacht: Wir wollen die Geschichten hinter der Faszination Handwerkskunst erzählen und herausarbeiten, warum dieser Schaffensprozess uns Menschen so tief berührt.
Zeit und ehrliche Aufmerksamkeit sind das Wertvollste, was wir Menschen einander geben können. Durch eine handwerkliche Leistung, hinter der eine gewisse Aufrichtigkeit gegenüber dem Material, Werkzeug und Plan steht, kann ein Werkstück entsprechend aufgeladen und dann damit weitergegeben werden.
Daher fragen wir nach der heutigen Bedeutung von – mitunter uralter – Handwerkskunst, wie diese in einer zeitgenössischen Gestaltung eine Renaissance erlebt, und was es heißt, dafür mit einer authentischen Haltung einzustehen.
3 JAHRE NONNE 11 JUBILÄUMSFEIER
Wir wollen mit Stolz und Dankbarkeit auf die vergangenen drei Jahre anstoßen!
HERZLICHE EINLADUNG, mit uns diesen Meilenstein mit einer besonderen Sommerausstellung und einem vielfältigen Begleitprogramm zu feiern:
Unsere SOMMERAUSSTELLUNG - bei der wir jeweils unsere neueste Capsule-Kollektion launchen - findet vom 24. Juli bis zum 10. August 2024 statt.
SONDERÖFFNUNGSZEITEN:
Mittwoch, Donnerstag & Freitag | 14:00 - 19:00 Uhr
Samstag | 11:00 - 17:00 Uhr
sowie zu Veranstaltungen des Begleitprogramms
(Ausnahme: Vom 1. - 3. August 2024 bleibt das Atelier aufgrund einer Privatveranstaltung geschlossen.)
Begleitprogramm
Begleitend zur Jubiläumsausstellung haben wir ein vielfältiges Programm entwickelt, dass zu einer Reise durch ganz unterschiedliche Interessenbereiche einlädt:
Di., 23. Juli 2024 | Artist Talk NONNE 11
im Gespräch mit Nora Kovats & Alvaro-Luca Ellwart
Wir beginnen das Rahmenprogramm unserer 3 JAHRE NONNE 11 SOMMERAUSSTELLUNG mit einem Artist Talk,
in dem wir in unsere Vision für das Atelier NONNE 11 als Begegnungsort und kreative Schaffensstätte eintauchen.
Beginn 19:30 Uhr | Eintritt frei | Plätze begrenzt
Do., 25. Juli 2024 | Kosmos II: The Bells
Konzert mit Jochen Neurath
Klanggefüge aus Klavichord & Sprache
Einlass 19:00 | Beginn 19:30 | Ticket à 15€
Mi., 31. Juli 2024 | Schmuckwerden
Konzert mit Thomas Voit / Flogosonic
Elektronisches Musikgewebe am modularen Synthesizer mit live aufgenommenen Handwerksprozessen -
eine Musikperformance von Thomas Voit, Nora Kovats und Alvaro-Luca Ellwart.
Einlass 19:00 | Beginn 19:30 | Ticket à 15€
Di., 6. August 2024 | WEINTASTING: Mit 7 Weinen nach Bamberg
Autobiografisches Weintasting, erzählt von Nora Kovats & Alvaro-Luca Ellwart:
Begleitet uns auf eine anekdotenhafte Reise, punktuell von 7 erlesenen Weinen unterstrichen.
Einlass 19:00 | Beginn 19:30 | Ticket à 30€
Do., 8. August 2024 | FILMABEND mit Cäcilia Then
Dokumentarischer Kurzfilm von Cäcilia Then,
Artist Talk mit Cäcilia Then & Nora Kovats
mit Snacks und Gin Tonics (mit und ohne Alkohol) von Alvaro-Luca Ellwart.
Einlass 20:00 | Beginn 20:30 | Ticket à 10 €
So., 11. August 2024 | FINISSAGE
Ausklang: Rückblick und Ausblick
Wir beschließen unsere 3 JAHRE NONNE 11-Sommerausstellung mit einem geselligen Nachmittag
im Atelier, und werfen dabei einen Blick zurück und in die Zukunft.
15:00-18:00 | Eintritt frei
Wir freuen uns auf euch!
Tickets und Anmeldungen:
Während der Öffnungszeiten in der NONNE 11 oder per Mail an: info@nonne-11-bamberg.de
Unsere Landkarte, mit der wir durch unsere Welt navigieren.
DIE KUNST ZU SCHENKEN: Ausstellung im Historischen Museum Bamberg
DIE KUNST ZU SCHENKEN ist Austausstellung und Verkaufsmesse mit höchstem gestalterisch-handwerklichen Anspruch in einem. Gestalter:innen aus ganz Deutschland zeigen hier ihre zeitgenössischen Arbeiten in Bamberg. Lassen Sie sich inspirieren, kommen Sie mit den Kunstschaffenden ins Gespräch und erwerben Sie exquisite Geschenke.
DIE KUNST ZU SCHENKEN
Wir spüren es intuitiv: Ein handgefertigtes Objekt, in das die gestalterische Kreativität und das außerordentliche handwerkliche Können einer kunstschaffenden Person geflossen ist, lebt; es ist beseelt. Ganz anders als die vielen massengefertigten Fabrik-Produkte, die uns im Alltag umgeben.
Am zweiten Adventswochenende stellen zwölf Kunstschaffende ihre Arbeiten in den ehemaligen Pferdeställen der Alten Hofhaltung im Historischen Museum Bamberg aus. Von Keramik bis Handweberei, Malerei und Metallgestaltung, Emaille und Holz, vom handgefertigten Schreibgerät bis zum leuchtenden Porzellanobjekt, sind eine Vielzahl verschiedenster Gewerke und Positionen vertreten. Diese Verkaufsausstellung bietet dazu die Möglichkeit, selbst mit den Künstler:innen ins Gespräch zu kommen, in ihre einzigartigen Welten einzutauchen und exquisite Geschenke zu erwerben.
Im Fokus steht die Qualität des handwerklich-gestalterischen Könnens. Besondere oder traditionsreiche Techniken werden von diesen Künstler:innen nicht nur sorgsam gepflegt, sondern in den fertigen Arbeiten auch direkt erlebbar gemacht. Die Ausstellenden 2023 sind:
Elke Eder-Eich, Keramik
Alvaro-Luca Ellwart, Schmuck/Objekt
Dagmar Christina Gerke, Glasdesign
Christiane Hamacher, Malerei/Ikonen
Sophie B. Kloess + Jan Hebach, Metallgestaltung Silber und Stahl
Nora Kovats, Schmuck/Illustration
Nicole v. Lindeiner/ das Tuchwerk, Handweberei
Reinhard Netter, Drechslerei
Frank Pressentin/ Elbwood, Schreibgeräte
Jochen Rüth, Keramik
Christiane Toewe, Studioporzellan
Richard Wientzek, Zeichnung/Printedition
Veranstaltungsort:
Museen der Stadt Bamberg
Historisches Museum in der Alten Hofhaltung
(Ehemalige Pferdeställe)
Domplatz 7, 96049 Bamberg
www.museum.bamberg.de
Öffnungszeiten:
Sa. 9.12.23 10:00 – 19:00 Uhr
So. 10.12.23 10:00 – 17:00 Uhr
(Sonntag Eintritt frei.)
Dieses Projekt ist aus der früheren Künstlermarkt-Initiative LAST MINUTE der Bamberger Porzellankünstlerin Christiane Toewe entstanden. Die neue Ausstellung wird von Toewe gemeinsam mit dem Gestalterpaar Nora Kovats und Alvaro-Luca Ellwart kuratiert, und in Zusammenarbeit mit den Museen der Stadt Bamberg umgesetzt. Sie findet zum ersten Mal in dieser Form in der Alten Hofhaltung statt.
DIE KUNST ZU SCHENKEN soll einen wertvollen Beitrag zur vorweihnachtlichen Kulturlandschaft der Stadt Bamberg leisten.
Wir freuen uns über euren Besuch!
Schmucksymposium: A jewellery gathering
After two years of social starvation, induced by the pandemic, we finally met again. We - that’s my tribe: a global community of jewellery makers, craftspeople, writers, curators, thinkers and art enthusiasts. At Haxthäuserhof Jewellery Symposium (formerly known as Zimmerhof), hidden away in the German countryside between apple orchards near Mainz, about one hundred creative souls gather each year to spend Ascenscion weekend together.
Schmucksymposium:
A jewellery gathering
Meeting at an annual jewellery symposium.
Written in English.
After two years of social starvation, induced by the pandemic, we finally met again. We - that’s my tribe: a global community of jewellery makers, craftspeople, writers, curators, thinkers and art enthusiasts. At Haxthäuserhof Jewellery Symposium (formerly known as Zimmerhof), hidden away in the German countryside between apple orchards near Mainz, about one hundred creative souls gather each year to spend Ascenscion weekend together.
While the logistical organizing team is more or less fixed, the symposium’s theme and content is usually chosen by different team of established artists/practitioners in the field of (contemporary) jewellery each year. This year‘s Haxthäuserhof Schmucksymposium was centered around the theme BLISS - personal bliss, how creative practice can be bliss, what following one’s bliss can mean in different contexts, how to stay on the path searching for one’s bliss - despite all the distraction and horror crowding in from the outside world. Our team for this year - Claudia Hoppe and David Huycke - gathered together a group of remarkable speakers to feed our minds and souls in twelve lectures.
These lectures were interspersed with coffee-breaks and meals prepared by talented Berlin-based chef Christoph Esser (how he manages to create so much flavour in a simple lentil dish remains a mystery to me!), followed by a couple of drinks from the bar, great camp-fire conversation and dancing as the night progresses. Nights were short. Days were overflowing with stimulating creative input.
A sincerely moving lecture by jewellery artist Mirjam Hiller, describing her creative process of coaxing a 3D-object from a flat sheet of metal.
This year’s speakers highlighted the many different paths towards bliss. The gathering included perspectives on creative practices by
renowned Dutch designer Aldo Bakker,
artistic jewellery maker and researcher Lore Langendries, based in Hasselt, Belgium
German art and contemporary jewellery journalist Christel Trimborn
German jewellery maker Nicole Walger
Danish goldsmith and jewellery trailblazer Kim Buck
post-doctoral AI-researcher Anneleen Swillen, based based in Hasselt, Belgium
Eva Monnikhof, director of DIVA, diamond museum in Antwerp
German philosopher-poet and jewellery maker Mirjam Hiller
silversmith and course leader of PXL-MAD School of Arts in Hasselt, Berlgium, Nedda El-Asmar
iconic Australian jewellery maker(-poet) Robert Baines
German art historian and maker Julia Wild, also teacher at Hochschule Trier
well-known Spanish jewellery designer Marc Monzo
Our chef de cuisine, Christoph, who kept everyone well-fed and happy with delicious, wholesome meals for the entire weekend.
Cooking for a hundred people is no easy task.
Schmucktisch.
Ready for the guests. Haxthäuserhof is a beautiful and remote location with the added benefit of having no WIFI and atrocious cell signal.
Schmucktisch.
Together, these lectures wove themselves into a bright and richly textured tapestry, a braid of diverse stories and experiences. The colourful narrative threads had a deeply personal tone in common. These glimpses into the intimacy of someone’s creative practice truly moved me, and left me with an almost-tangible kernel of something golden and solid and precious clutched in my fist, more valuable than money or status or power, a little piece of bliss to hunt for, or at least the certain knowledge that it exists somewhere on this meandering creative path. Not everywhere, not always, but definitely sometimes.
Escaping for a walk in nature between lectures to clear the mind.
Lecture by Danish goldsmith Kim Buck, featuring his well-known Daisy Series referring to the Danish Daisy brooch made in 1940 to commemorate the birth of queen Margarethe.
Many speakers brought examples of their work, allowing participants to have a close-up look, feel the textures, and ask questions about their pieces. Here are animal hide brooches and neckpieces by Lore Langendries.
Kim Buck, one of this year’s speakers, has kindly agreed to organize next year’s symposium together with a jewellery colleague Karin Johansson, based in Gothenburg, Sweden. We are looking forward to their choice of themes and speakers!
A glimpse of the barn where all lectures took place, semi-obscured by a fragrant kitchen garden.
Schmucktisch.
NONNE 11: A NEW CREATIVE HOME
I have a vision for this studio: This will be a space that allows me to continually stay curious, to keep exploring, to blur the boundaries of my different modes of making and to become a nexus of connectivity for other creative souls. I want this space to feel interesting, inspiring and safe to those who visit us. A space where my partner and I can live out or contribution to the world, where we can hand-craft unique pieces that will add value and meaning to people’s lives.
NONNE 11
Finding a new studio, a new creative home.
Written in English.
It’s May, and Bamberg has risen from hibernation. Branches are suddenly clad in luminous green; red-tipped brambles and roses are competing for space on the riverbank, racing towards bloom in an explosion of life and energy. Crowds are thronging their way through the market stalls, small beer-drinking groups scattered along benches and railings just people-watching.
The obligation to wear masks outdoors in the city centre has been lifted a few days ago, and our faces feel strangely naked and unprotected from sunlight. Over these few months, un-masking one’s face has become an intimate act somehow, a revealing of a slither of self that was hidden before. I won’t miss the wearing of masks, but I might miss that strange thrill of seeing the lower half of someone’s face for the first time, making a half image whole, often in surprising ways.
My twenty minute walk to the new studio is lit by the chestnuts’ generous cream-coloured candelabras. As my new surrounding crystallise into familiar paths and structures, I can feel myself easing into this space. After months of renovating, building things and managing temporary situations, with an excess of uncertainty about life in general, I am slowly beginning to feel more grounded. With that, there is a sense of inner opening, a tightness released in my chest, with a gushing stream of creative ideas pouring out.
It’s impossible the capture the canopied ball-room feeling of standing under a flowering chestnut tree, all perfect and new in spring, untarnished by the spotty brown deadness of chestnut blight that will appear later in summer.
Alvaro embarking some ceiling painting wearing the most amazingly horrible orange t-shirt imaginable, the type of clothing appropriate for this kind of messiness.
Sugar candy houses on my way to the studio. Here, the magnolia in all its stateliness is still in flower; now towards the end of May it’s long wilted and greened.
Once again – because realisations return in a cyclical way - it is just so clear to me how stress is an absolute killer for creative output. And another thing: Home is where I can express my true self safely and creatively.
Whether this refers to a physical space, a corner in my apartment, a relationship, or a larger geographical area: Home is where I feel unguarded enough to unlock those inner sluices of creativity. Then, I can use that energy to sustain myself, to manage stress in a healthy way, to have each breath reach deeper filling up my entire lung capacity, and ultimately, to flourish as a human being.
With this new studio in Bamberg, a new home is born. It is by far the most spacious, light-filled and personally meaningful studio I’ve ever had, mostly because I have been able to co-create this one from scratch.
The studio space, nicknamed NONNE 11, will officially open its doors on the 18th of June, ready to embrace summer in its full force. To celebrate this significant step with us, have a look at my calendar for dates, the location and Covid-19 details.
While my path has been windy and unforeseeable up to this point, I certainly think there was a direction to it; it’s as if I am following a scent trail, invisible but clearly intuitable. Opening my own studio-gallery – and in such a stunning location - is a truly important mile stone on that windy path, and while I don’t know what the future holds, when we can travel and trust strangers again, how long this moment will last and how exactly we will make this project work, this is the right place to be now. This is where I will plant my feet, create, build, connect, love, be present and bring my energy to now. Over time, I am sure the studio will take on a life of its own - you can follow our stories and events here.
This will be a space that allows me to continually stay curious, to keep exploring, to blur the boundaries of my different modes of making and to become a nexus of connectivity for other creative souls. I want this space to feel interesting, inspiring and safe to those who visit us. A space where my partner and I can live out or contribution to the world, where we can hand-craft unique pieces that will add value and meaning to people’s lives. A space to practise emotional articulation through art, both to improve my own being in the world and to touch the lives of others.
Just around the corner from the studio, next to the Regnitz river, there’s a perfect picnic spot for spring lunches.
Rivers and canals mark this area of Bamberg, and our studio is built on an island inside an island. The canal sides are worn and picturesque and make me want to lie down on the lychen-covered stones.
A favourite lunch spot opposite a steep set of stairs leading up the hill. There’s a ferry, which seems to operate occasionally although I’m not aware of any discernible schedule.
Our workbench, massive and heavy, the most difficult piece of furniture to move by far. This will house a parade of power tools when everything is installed.
The studio: A space of possibilities, to be filled with ideas, events and droplets of everyday living.
Amphibian Living
But I have to admit: Personally, I feel a huge Munich-Jewellery-Week-shaped hole in the universe. There is something missing. What about all the energy? The field of art jewellery heavily relies on tactility, and it is incredibly difficult to fully appreciate these complex, three-dimensional art pieces on a flat screen or page - these pieces that often surprise us with a unique texture, an unexpected juxtaposition of materials that we simply can’t “get” without seeing (and sometimes touching) the real thing.
Amphibian Living
Thoughts on Munich Jewellery Week, jewellery in a digital world, and translations between spheres.
Written in English.
These past few weeks, I have been very preoccupied by thoughts about art jewellery in a digital future. How can tangible objects, made of “real” materials in the “real” world and defined by their relationship to the body, be translated into a virtual sphere? Can we have virtual bodies? And can jewellery exist on our screens and in our imaginations only?
I have no answer; these questions crowd my brain as I try to fall asleep at night, making me wonder about the future of my art and craftsmanship in a world that has been catapulted into digitalization by Covid. In Germany alone, some companies have leapt ahead five years in a only couple of months, others still send faxes and prefer to be paid in cash. This is no judgement, just a statement. Even looking at my own group of friends, colleagues and clients: Some are talking about NFTs, others refuse to utilize the internet. I believe that there is power in being fluent in the analogue as well as the digital sphere, a sort of amphibian in a changing world. It’s truly exciting to be alive in such times, feeling the shift beneath my feet.
To me, it’s also exciting to be faced with such an unknowable future – really, the only thing we can say for sure is that the future will be utterly, unimaginably different from our pasts. I don’t think we even understand how different life will be thirty years from now.
Meanwhile, Munich Jewellery Week has come and gone, the event obviously having been cancelled due to our current Covid-19 restrictions. Some institutions, groups and individuals have attempted to take the event online, hosting discussions, virtual exhibitions and talks, and distributing print magazines, most notably Current Obsession with their compendium of jewellery-related articles and editorials in this year’s Munich Jewellery Week 2021 edition.
But I have to admit: Personally, I feel a huge Munich-Jewellery-Week-shaped hole in the universe. There is something missing. What about all the energy? The field of art jewellery heavily relies on tactility, and it is incredibly difficult to fully appreciate these complex, three-dimensional art pieces on a flat screen or page - these pieces that often surprise us with a unique texture, an unexpected juxtaposition of materials that we simply can’t “get” without seeing (and sometimes touching) the real thing. More than that, these art pieces are exquisite little storytelling worlds that exude their own energy field, a mysterious force you can only feel when face to face with the piece.
I like to think that it’s not only the energy of the materiality that we feel, but the fact that it was hand made by a human being. You can detect the invisible human traces on it, the indistinct web of criss-crossing micro-movements of a highly skilled artist. It reflects the imprint of this particular artist’s visual language. Compare this to the image framed by your laptop’s silver screen (or perhaps even spiderwebbed by your broken smartphone display). While a jewellery piece is arresting and intriguing on the screen, it is not fully comprehensible in the same way.
So how can we, I wonder, learn to speak these two languages with the same fluency? How can we translate the tangible 3D into the digital? Should we even? How can makers use digital possibilities to amplify their stories, and analogue techniques to create an imprint of their being that will touch us emotionally on a level that digital art cannot? I do think we are moving into a world where neither one of these realms of being can do without the other. How can we become amphibians in this sense?
My POMEGRANATE FANTASY brooch in an imaginary orchard created by illustrator Benjamin Langford, featuring jewellery by Vika Tonu, Birgit Wimmer, Suyu Chen, Marina Voronina, Barbora Lexová, Anne Irving and Emma Rose Bennett, Geesche Arning, H2ERG, Arielle Brackett, Linsey Fontijn, Mercedes Palmer-Higgins, Dawoon Jeong, Cecilia Kesman, Idil Laslo, Mariangela Jewellery London, Zsófia Neuzer, Mayumi Okuyama, Dorothea Schippel, and Larissa Thiel.
Poetic Fantasy on Lost Gardens and Being Human
I miss my garden.
The last garden I had was back in 2032, that narrow walled garden at the back of our apartment. I remember walking barefoot down the stone steps, I remember birds hidden behind layers of foliage, and the taste of early summer radishes. I miss being separate but still part of the world in that tranquil microcosm.
Below is a poetic meandering of thoughts, written as an artist statement to accompany my newest series of brooches titles “Memorabilia”.
Memorabilia I. 2020. Brooch. Sterling silver (blackened), enamel on copper, steel pin, black baroque pearl. Hand sawn, constructed, enamelled.
I miss my garden.
The last garden I had was back in 2032, that narrow walled garden at the back of our apartment. I remember walking barefoot down the broad flagstones, I remember birds hidden behind layers of foliage, and the taste of early summer radishes. I miss being separate but still part of the world in that tranquil microcosm.
My garden was an inner sanctum that freed something in my chest, that carved out patterns of meaning for my life and the lives I touched. It allowed me to face the outside with courage. It was beauty, and perhaps unnecessary, although its unnecessariness made it an utter necessity in itself. It was order, and it was chaos, it was decay and love and frilliness, it was a glimpse of a splendid room that allows you to imagine the entire palace; it was a throbbing, ever-growing metaphor for our most precious human skill - the use of our imagination.
It was a space where small gestures mattered, where our humanness was reflected in a personal pantheon of fragile dreams: the furriness of moss on stone, in the twisted branch of something dry, in the post-rain puddles on the garden path.
Now that almost nothing of that mythical space remains, now that we have destroyed and scorched, wallowing in dispassionate inaction while our capacity for kindness shrivelled, while we waited, we have lost the language of imagining meaning.
We remind ourselves of our humanity in the memories that remain, held together in the blackened bone reliquaries of that sacred garden.
Memorabilia II. 2020. Brooch. Sterling silver (blackened), enamel on copper, steel pin, black baroque pearl. Hand sawn, constructed, enamelled.
Memorabilia III. 2020. Brooch. Sterling silver (blackened), enamel on silver, steel pin, black baroque pearl. Hand sawn, constructed, enamelled.
Thoughts on Disappointment
So I’ve been thinking about disappointment all week. What exactly is this disappointment thing? How can we define it? It’s painful, yes, it has a lot to do with expectations that could not be met, but it’s not anger, it’s not really shame or guilt either. It’s sort of a hollow feeling, a space that would have held something glorious and sparkling and hopeful, and that is now empty.
When your way is blocked, suddenly, and you find yourself in a puddle of broken expectations. Photograph by Nora Kovats. Corridor flanking the courtyard at Hildesheim’s oldest cathedral.
So this year’s international trade fair in Munich, including all its special shows like Handwerk & Design and the SCHMUCK and TALENTE competitions, has been cancelled due to the corona virus threat. I’ve dreamed about showing my work at Handwerk & Design for years.
This year, I had forged my own opportunity to exhibit there by gathering a group of fellow artists from Berlin, envisioning and then organizing a group show that would have been more than just individual artists next to each other: it would have been a curated exhibition integrating eight different unique visual languages. For me, this was an ambitious project, one that has kept me increasingly busy since November, with the past six weeks becoming an organizational marathon. It was so wonderful to see this group of artists come together and give their time freely, discuss the most divergent ideas and reach conclusions and compromises, build tiny scale cardboard models of our display, render the display in 3D, then build the entire thing from scratch, even sawing the wood into pieces ourselves. Then, five days ago, this vision crumpled into sawdust as I received the news that the entire fair had been cancelled.
I wasn’t entire unprepared, of course not, with other trade fairs and large gatherings being cancelled all over Europe. But the disappointment was acute and real and painful, even though, honestly, the entire project might have been a failure even if the fair had not been cancelled.
So I’ve been thinking about disappointment all week. What exactly is this disappointment thing? How can we define it? It’s painful, yes, it has a lot to do with expectations that could not be met, but it’s not anger, it’s not really shame or guilt either. It’s sort of a hollow feeling, a space that would have held something glorious and sparkling and hopeful, and that is now empty. It’s a little paralysing, a melancholy type of inertia. It’s a vacuum that can now be filled - often with a squadron of negative emotions chasing each other into the ditch: frustration, self-flagellation, a crumbling self-esteem, disillusionment, bitterness and resentment.
The best place to observe your disappointment will always be nature. Going for long, aimless walks to fill empty spaces inside with simple grains of gratitude, watching nature grow and die and flower and crumble. Somewhere in Brandenburg. Photograph by Nora Kovats.
I keep asking myself how we ought to deal with disappointment? And what’s the point of it? Typically, I tend to react to disappointment with denial; I justify to myself that the disappointing event wasn’t really that important, I charge on with a new mission, never looking back, in a crazy storm of self-preservation. While that’s a great survival mechanism that has served me well in the past, I am not entirely convinced anymore that it is useful in the long run. I feel this process of extricating yourself from disappointment has a lesson to teach that I haven’t been ready to learn yet. It seems that I should sit with this disappointment for a few days, examine it, experience and articulate what it feels like before the void gets filled either with angry frustration or manufactured hope.
While it can feel like a curse, disappointment is in essence a resilience-building tool. It is a really vital part of our lives. To clarify, by that I don’t mean a tool to cultivate the ability to ignore disappointment, to readjust with superhuman speed and bounce back like a jack-in-the-box. Rather, what I mean is the capability to hold this disappointment, to embrace it, taste it, and then gingerly starting to re-fill the void with those first slithers of gold and dream dust. And bit by bit, you rebuild your vision, you make it better and stronger this time, the walls are more solid, the glue holding everything together is tougher because there’s a foundation cemented by the possibility of failure, and there’s a type of wisdom underneath that is heavier but also more real than your lighter, younger self’s view of life.
Disappointment is the supreme editor of our life plans. It’s a builder of strength and mutual empathy. Those cyclical ups and downs of hope and expectation, shattered by disappointment, and rebuilt again, are a kind of energy generator, an engine keeping us in motion, our feet on the ground and our head in the clouds.
Spaces to Fill. 2019. Watercolour & ink painting on Hahnemühle watercolour paper.
Enamelling Workshop: A glimpse
When I hosted an enamelling workshop in my Berlin studio last month, I allowed outsiders an intimate glimpse into my creative enamelling practice for the first time.
Preparation: Each participant received all necessary copper and sterling silver parts to create their own Pearlcatcher pendant.
When I hosted an enamelling workshop in my Berlin studio last month, I allowed outsiders an intimate glimpse into my creative enamelling practice for the first time. Previous workshops were always at outside locations such as the University of Stellenbosch or Studio San W in Shanghai.
The workshop included demonstrations, ample time for experiments and trials, lunch, many stories, and the completion of a variation of my Pearlcatcher pendant design. The finished piece and all experiments were the participants’ to take home, of course.
I attempted to convey – apart from my own love for colour and an enthusiasm for playful experimentation – how I feel a sense of a physical space (the studio) and a process (the act of enamelling) merging, where the doing becomes a real space in time. It’s a capsule, an entity, a ritual even, a togetherness that is caught on that day between those exact hours in that exact human setup.
Fierce heat emanating from an open enamelling kiln.
I use a solid granite slab for the hot steel tripods coming out of the kiln to cool down.
Workshop setup in the studio’s front room.
We worked with prepared enamel powders - washed and sifted - as well as small glass ornaments, blobs, and splinters that can create fascinating speckled patterns as they melt into the enamel surface.
A participant working on her first outside layer in light forget-me-not blue.
A workshop participant setting her enamelled piece into its silver setting, with a large cream-coloured pearl caught inside.
A memory of this space will capture the mood in its entire complexity – the light on a grey January afternoon, the smell of roasted lemon-pepper brussel sprouts for lunch, the heat of the enamelling kiln, the texture of sand-like enamel powders, the subtle differences in colours, the stalling of time as it is swallowed by deep concentration and effort.
A glimpse of our studio kitchen almost ready for our communal lunch, which formed part of hosting the workshop.
A scattered display of different enamelling techniques, tools and a tea tray.
I am definitely planning on repeating this experience soon, so keep an eye out for news and dates on my calendar.
Munich Jewellery Week 2019
Current Obsession map of all the different locations at Munich Jewellery Week, and my constant companion. It’s really quite impossible to see everything.
The contemporary jewellery scene is a type of parallel world, and being part of Munich Jewellery Week makes you feel as if you’ve just slipped into the land of Harry Potter. As an initiate, you are privy to a bright world that puts wearable art at the centre of every thought and action. Having just returned from this immersive experience, my mind is still radiant with ideas.
As you walk around in this parallel Munich, you notice bright orange markers designating every one of the 90+ jewellery related events taking place all over the city during this week and marked on a corresponding map. You can easily spot your fellow MJW-initiates, clearly recognizable by the conspicuous brooches and neckpieces they wear, usually their own creations. No-one else wears brooches like that.
Moving around in this strange world, on the outskirts of pragmatic life but filled with boundless excitement, I was constantly oscillating between extreme, almost euphoric inspiration, and the most humbling, crushing sense of inadequacy. This is emotionally exhausting. Between gawking over my personal jewellery idols’ work, meeting friends, travelling all over the city, and feverishly planning my own next collection, there wasn’t much time for sleep either.
Below are some of the exhibitions, collectives and individual contemporary jewellers whose work spoke to me the most, in no particular order. Apart from the obvious grandeur of the SCHMUCK (the oldest contemporary jewellery contest of its kind) and TALENTE competitions, and the dazzling array of prestigious galleries featuring the stars of the jewellery world, I was particularly impressed by a Korean display done by the Korean Craft & Design Foundation. Their work was wildly experimental and colourful and daring, and at the same time meticulously executed with truly superior craftsmanship. I was in awe.
A colour catalogue of the Korea Craft & Design Foundation display at Munich Jewellery Week 2019.
Other exhibitions that almost bewildered me with their sheer volume of ideas and different experimental jewellery approaches were 21 Grams, held at Galerie Handwerk, Schmuckismus at the Pinakothek der Moderne, and Interiores, an exhibition by Chilean jewellery collective Joya Brava. I particularly love how Joya Brava, as a group, displays a visual language that manages to marry ancient traditions and organic materials (such as weaving and felting techniques; materials like textiles, wool, straw, horse hair) with refreshingly experimental designs and new interpretations.
A brooch by Kira Fritsch. Actually a picture of a brooch.
Individual artists whose work made my heart beat faster than it should, were, amongst many others:
Kira Fritsch (unfortunately none of her recent work which I loved so much is shown anywhere online, but luckily I have a card of a black twig-like brooch),
Liana Pattihis, whose enamelled chain work is breathtaking,
Carina Shoshtary, with her meticulously assembled graffiti-scaled organic forms,
Jilian Moore, with her deliciously glossy, brightly coloured acrylic creatures,
Andrea Wippermann, with her delicate imaginary compositions,
Vera Siemund, a long time favourite of mine, and
Sanna Wallgren, who must be one of the youngest people ever to participate in SCHMUCK.
China and silver chain brooch by Liana Pattihis.
Of course, there were many more whose work I found inspiring, but those above definitely touched me on a very personal, subjective level.
See you next year, Munich Jewellery Week!
Im Sommer 2022 erhielt ich das Stipendium „Junge Kunst und Neue Wege“ des Bayerischen Staatsministeriums für Wissenschaft und Kunst, das mir erlaubte, mich einem größeren künstlerischen Projekt zu widmen. Im Rahmen dieses Stipendienprojekts habe ich die Kollektion SYBILLA entwickelt, die auf den Herbstmessen dieses Jahres zum ersten Mal präsentiert wird.