the Wiener Werkstätte: Josef Hoffmann

Josef Hoffmann

Pin Cushion

circa 1908

     A silver bundle of leaves and a domed trellis: is this not a clever echo of nature? Adding and removing pins from the top gives the piece a touch of seasonal evolution, of growth - as in the more laden the cushion is, the more 'dense' the canopy of fruity or flowery trees is (whether the pins are coloured or not). This particular phase of the cushion [inset] implies winter; its espalier is bare, dormant, making the leaves below seem frozen without their usual crown of blossoms. Perhaps a few silver or grey-headed pins should speckle the cushion, but for the time being they would only emulate a light snow fall.

     Hoffmann's design is timeless. It does not stand out as something unusual or odd, nor does it fit into a niche of perfectly ordinary things. It does not beg for attention, nor does it remain unnoticed. It is just a wonderfully subtle and calm work of art imbued with a tinge of character (from what or whom, who can really say?) that tickles the eye when it comes in sight. As delicate as Peche's ivory bell (see post for 14 April 2013), it invites one to touch it, to memorise its weight and to feel its size - to discover where its little heart beats, whether it lies in the pin cushion's very centre or throughout the entirety of its chased skin.

Wojciech Weiss

Wojciech Weiss

Nude

circa early 1900s (?)

     Her skin is nearly blinding. Her torso is rather long, too long, and her neck is held stiffly. She is more like an overgrown marionette than an actual human, with features so surreally perfect but abnormal at the same time.

     A light source in itself, the white, ethereal pallor of her body radiates her indifference to or unawareness of the audience behind her. She is cool, untroubled - she is wrapped in lazy thoughts spurred by the embroidered blue-bell birds flitting across that heavy golden curtain. Echoing their elegant tail feathers, a satin toile holds up her hair on which a rich light, from either a lamp or the outdoors, casts feather-like rays that seem to sprout from a sort of communal stem, its 'roots' buried in her tight bun. Her elbow rests casually on the back of a chaise longue; her right arm shields the gentle curve of her breast; and with a long swoop her spine, articulated with a hint of shadow, arcs downwards to her bottom slightly rouged by the reflection of the striped fabric. The seduction of this woman lies in her act of not awknowledging or caring for us, her audience. We are curious, maybe even aroused, by her lack of a face and a name that, in truth, are as equally mysterious as the stunning allure of her skin, crystal-pure and untouchable. We will stare at her for ages to come, but never will she reveal even the slightest extra inch of her body to us, intent on keeping the beauty of the unknown at its peak.

the Wiener Werkstätte: Wenzel Oswald

Wenzel Oswald

Poster Illustration for Märchenbücher Scholz, Mainz (publisher)

circa 1908

     A brilliant tangle of swirling tendrils, red-dotted grass and a twinkling, star-specked costume outlining the squatting figure of a flame-bearded man. In sharp profile, he stares happily and intently into the eyes of a little owl sitting between his brittle fingers. They are a pair; one could not survive without the other. With no owl the clownish man would appear cumbersome and clumsy in his world, too large to fit in his own frame without a small, soft friend to keep his perspective in check. With no kind giant the owl, too, would seem lost, dwarfed in a jungle of such over-bearing plants without its great protector.  

     This illustration is consoling. It represents two souls, maybe outlaws of some sort, who have found comfort in each other's company - something we can all possibly relate to. Each compliments the other's oddities. With the same sense of desperation the owl and the man readily accepted each other without judgement or question, recognising the familiar sense loneliness in the other, and because of this a mutual ground of reliance was created, a ground from which their camaraderie has stemmed and strengthened ever since. Without question, they are friends. A true union as this is a rare thing to come by and soon, with the development of this technology-based contemporary world in which we live, it will become even rarer.

Demel (Wien): Friedrich L. Berzeviczy-Pallavicini

Designed by Friedrich L. Berzeviczy-Pallavicini for Demel, K.u.K. Hofzuckerbäcker (Wien)

Paper Box

circa 1930s (?)

     What a joy - with only yellow, red, blue and black the Lausanne-born Berzeviczy-Pallavicini created this clever masterpiece. Meant to hold a trove of whatever un-earthly delight(s) crafted by the renown Viennese confectionery, Demel (founded in 1786), this box acted as the opening scene to a treat determined to be as delicious visually as it was literally.

    The illustrations wiggle playfully across the planes of paper. Sometimes they merge into confusing puddles of lines and shapes, but this only adds to the box's intrigue. On one side we see a blue arcade stretched to such heights that its arches reach the stars, while a butterfly is about to flutter upwards into a circus of oddly-dressed performers, from floating potted plants to disembodied gloved hands and caterpillar-like sirens. The inset even shows a woman so consumed by her love of perfect posture that she risks being ambushed by her devilish admirer. A clash between many strange worlds! It is lucky for us that unlike the long-gone treat that once took centre stage as part of this dramatic performance, its decorative shell still remains - which serves as a tribute to the degree of care its past owners felt and, now, still feel for it.