Featured White Papers
- Oct. 14th: Simplified IT with Software-as-a-Service (SaaS) (ZDNet)
- PCI DSS therapy for the smaller retailer (McAfee)
- The rise of Web commuting (Citrix Online)
Kirsten Hassenfeld at Bellwether
Art in America, Nov, 2004 by Matthew Guy Nichols
It seems likely that many auction-house employees develop an ironic appreciation of luxury goods. While their work may involve close contact with fine art, estate jewelry and other expensive objets, their paychecks probably preclude easy purchase of the wares they help sell. This paradox is mined by Kirsten Hassenfeld, whose former day job at Sotheby's provided inspiration for the 10 sculptures in her first solo show.
Hassenfeld fashions her own versions of luxury goods from decidedly common materials. Using plain white and ivory paper, straws and pipe cleaners, she creates faux gemstones, crystals and pearls. These and other sculpted elements are combined to form outsize pieces of jewelry, elaborate chandeliers and various decorative curios. In Solitaire (all works 2004), for example, Hassenfeld mounts an enormous paper diamond on a slender foamcore arch. Lit from within by an electric bulb, the sculpture sparkles like a giant engagement ring. Other works rely on natural light for their beguiling effects. Suite (Version II) was recently installed in "Open House" at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, and was here reconfigured in the gallery's front window. Strung from the ceiling like semiprecious cobwebs, swags of paper gemstones and cameo pendants filtered the rays of the afternoon sun.
The superficial opulence of Hassenfeld's work may fuel fantasies of extravagant spending, but the inherent fragility and hollowness of her sculptures seem to question the enduring substance of such impulses. This subtle critique is best expressed by Horn of Plenty, an internally illuminated cornucopia that virtually drips with paper chains, charms, crystals and a strand of graduated pearls. Suspended from ceiling to eye level, this overstuffed emblem of excess may mirror the viewer's bloated desires for worldly riches.
If material indulgence suffers a tender blow in Hassenfeld's work, other things are celebrated in its stead, namely unsung craft techniques and the discredited esthetics of decoration. Clearly a master of her modest medium, Hassenfeld folds paper into facets, quills it into curlicues and cuts it into intricate, lacelike filigree. The dazzling diversity of her methods is most apparent in Pearl and Bibelot, both of which suppress representation in favor of abstract accumulations of pure ornament. But even when her sculptures closely imitate actual luxury goods, Hassenfeld's handiwork remains their most engrossing feature, and seems to assert that creative engagement with the material world is more gratifying than its passive consumption.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group