Wolfgang Lösche is head of the department of exhibition and fairs at the Chamber of Skilled Trades (Munich and Upper Bavarian County). He has been in charge of the Schmuck and Talente exhibitions for the past 10 years. Lösche is responsible for picking an external juror for each year’s selection. (His predecessor Peter Nickl introduced this policy […]
Wolfgang Lösche Will Take Your Questions Read More »
In her article on the closing of Galerie Louise Smit, jewelry historian Liesbeth den Besten painted a rather unflattering picture of the contemporary jewelry market and what she feels is an unbalanced relationship between galleries and artists. Citing the mounting pressures exerted on makers, den Besten ends her article with an appeal to galleries for more transparency, more accountability, and—why not—a charter of fair conduct between galleries and artists. Stefan Friedemann, the co-owner of Ornamentum gallery Hudson, New York, sent us a letter in which he articulated his perspective on the subject as a dealer. His response was published as Part 1 of this series.
Below is den Besten’s answer to Friedemann.
Dear Stefan,
Thank you for your lengthy response to my article about the closure of Galerie Louise Smit. It is important to discuss these issues in public. After Galerie Louise Smit’s sudden ending, artists, clients, and others were quite shocked. The final closure came unexpectedly and was thus badly prepared and broke many individual verbal agreements. Galerie Louise Smit represented some 46 artists.
Let’s start with a small remark. I have come to realize that my article was balancing on two different thoughts, which apparently was confusing and annoying to some readers. My first intention was to write about the closing down of a gallery, how this could happen, and the consequences of this ending, bearing in mind that no gallery is forever and that these shutdowns may occur more frequently in the future. My second aim was to pay attention to the gallery’s history. As Ward Schrijver rightly noticed, I didn’t pay attention to the full history of the gallery, and he filled the gap. In my view, the reasons to start the gallery and the reasons to stop it were the most important issue.
Apparently, readers misunderstood my article as a tribute to Louise Smit, which is only partly the case. As a matter of fact, I was (and still am) more interested in the gallery-artist relationship in general. To me, this looks like a complicated and mysterious matter between two parties: the many artists dependent on one and the same gallery, and the one gallery with this huge responsibility toward all the artists represented by it.
The following response to Stefan Friedemann’s is an elaboration on my initial article and is based on literature study 1 and my own inventory of figures.
Part 1
1. The Galleries
The international contemporary jewelry scene is really tiny. To draw a comparison, the city of Amsterdam, which is a small player in the international art world, counts about 55 fine art galleries. These are quality galleries that offer a platform for new developments in the arts. 2 I know only about 70 galleries for jewelry worldwide, and most of them function in a completely different way. 3 Many are workshop based, focusing on jewelry made by their owners. Sometimes they have a room for exhibitions by guest artists, who are mostly local, seldom international. There are galleries that function like shops, selling commercial brands (watches, industrial jewelry) in addition to showing precious jewelry from preferably local artists now and again. There are only about 21 jewelry galleries worldwide (if we still count Louise Smit in) that deserve to be called vanguard galleries. I am basing my reflections on these galleries and their modus operandi.
2. The Business Model
The owners of the vanguard galleries are often passionate collectors. They start a gallery because they believe in the potential of the contemporary jewelry they love. These galleries promote the ideas of the art they represent, the field as a whole, and the individual artists connected with the gallery. They offer a place where people can meet. The work they represent is not easy. This work requires a good narrative to be sold to clients, collectors, and museums. Gallery owners pick out promising young artists, encourage them, and help financially if necessary to enable them to create a new body of work. They organize at least six solo exhibitions per year. They try to create an (international) market for their artists, find new clients, take care of the visibility of their gallery by participating in fairs, and maintain good connections with critics, magazines, collectors, curators, and other crucial people in the field.
These jewelry galleries copy the practice of fine art galleries to a certain extent. But, there are also differences:
Compared to the fine art market, the contemporary jewelry market is underdeveloped, which is quite alarming, knowing that the first jewelry galleries were established in the 1970s, some 40 years ago. Many people involved are still waiting for the great breakthrough. Nothing has happened yet. Both the primary and the secondary jewelry markets suffer from their position on the margin of the art market(s).
3. The Artists
Most artists involved in contemporary jewelry are educated at art academies or art colleges, often piling a Bachelors and Masters education on top of a technical training. In Europe, it is not uncommon for jewelry artists to have studied 10 to 12 years at different institutions. Like fine artists, jewelry artists can also do practice-based Doctorates, especially in the Anglo-Saxon world, but also in Belgium, Portugal, and Norway. Jewelers mostly work on their own: they have a studio practice in the classical sense. They prepare solo exhibitions for their main gallery every two or three years. Most jewelry artists have at least three different galleries, but successful artists have even more, up to five or six. On top of this, they participate in group shows and occasionally make work for special occasions (such as a fair) or exhibitions. Sometimes they make a piece for a private commission.
There are hardly any jewelry artists who can make a living from the sale of their work alone. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can name a single example of a jeweler who is able to do so. This even applies to the bestselling artists. The market for jewelry is simply too small, and the prices are too low compared to the fine arts. Jewelry artists can only survive by having different jobs (preferably teaching jobs, but many need part-time jobs in a different sector to survive), receiving grants, or having a partner with a steady income. They have to work very hard to meet all the demands they face, such as participating in the many exhibitions that are organized worldwide, making work for different galleries, and making special work for a presentation at one of the main art and design fairs. They often live an isolated life and are grateful for any form of exposure they can get, even if they are asked to donate a piece of jewelry to a museum for honor’s sake.
Some jewelry artists try to establish a marketable brand of jewelry—a “bread-and-butter” line—but this commercial model is not very popular among jewelry artists and rarely very successful anyway. A growing minority of jewelers work without a gallery—and for those with other jobs, the main danger is that their jewelry practice becomes an occasional release from the daily job they took on to support it.
4. The Numbers
Twenty-one vanguard jewelry galleries worldwide for 924 artists means an average of 44 jewelers per gallery. The assumption that jewelry artists can easily find another gallery, if necessary in another country, as long as they are good won’t stand in reality. (What is good? Who decides what is good? Are they good if they sell well? Are there other value systems?) The general reality of the art world is that there are too many artists, not many galleries, and definitely not enough buyers. Both artists and galleries are struggling to hold firm, and they feel the pain of this truth. Only the very famous will succeed to keep on going, but for the others, the young ones, the less selling ones, for this majority of artists, there are simply not enough galleries. This has nothing to do with “handling their business of art in a professional or ethical manner” as Stefan Friedemann wrote. It is not because these artists are not professional that they are without a gallery, but simply because there is a limit to the number of artists a gallery can represent. The situation is different if the artist takes the initiative to leave. In this case, he or she has either found another gallery indeed or independently decided to move on. But, is this really “a daily occurrence” as Friedemann writes? As far as I know, both galleries and artists value a good personal relationship, and parting usually feels like a divorce. As in any divorce, we can assume that the one doing the leaving hopes to gain from the separation and the one being left stands to loose.
In the Dutch fine art world, there are many cases of artists who gained attention, saw their market value increase, and suddenly left their first, local gallery in favor of a top gallery in New York, London, or Berlin. This is painful and unjust to the initial gallery that took the risk to work with an unknown artist from the very start of his or her career. Almost 10 years ago in the Netherlands, there was lawsuit of a gallery against an artist (a photographer) because she left the gallery for a more profitable one in New York. The Dutch gallery won the case, and the artist had to pay a considerable amount of money to cover loss of income incurred by his/her ‘ex’ gallery. This situation is unthinkable in the world of contemporary jewelry, which is much smaller and deals with much less money.
Only a few jewelry galleries keep the number of artists they represent very low, about 20–25, which is an accepted figure in the fine art world. We may wonder if these galleries can survive without additional, substantial financial resources from outside. Even the majority of jewelry galleries, ones that work with up to 44 (or more) artists, need an additional income. As a matter of fact, it is not much better in the fine art world (apart from the top tier galleries that combine primary and secondary markets and work with established artists).
Part 2
Reading the responses to my article and knowing about the lamentations of artists and galleries, I get the impression there is a general feeling of disillusion and frustration and a lack of understanding for each other’s position. The gallery complains about artists they suspect of unethical practices, ones that change galleries, or show their new work outside of their primary gallery. Meanwhile, artists complain about percentages, slow payments, and little sales. Be that as it may, both the gallery and the artist emphasize the importance of a healthy relationship based on trust.
1. Ideals vs. Commerce
In spite of the obvious love gallery owners have for their trade and the emotional investment that goes with that, running a gallery is a commercial business. Stefan Friedemann claims that “being an artist is also business,” but I don’t agree with this point of view. It reminds me of the idea of cultural entrepreneurship, which politicians in my own country try to force onto artists. I don’t believe in it. An artist chooses to be an artist because he or she wants to create things that no one ever thought of before. In this process, he or she may well cross the borders of acceptability. It is not his primary job to think if and where it will sell. Of course, he or she wants to sell. He or she needs a living, too. But, like a gallery director, an artist may have a supplementary income in order to survive. When “market thinking” starts trickling into an artist’s practice, we should be alert. Instead, an artist’s focus should be on creating new work because that is his or her reason for being an artist. This does not release him or her from the responsibility to deliver proper work if it is supposed to be jewelry. It should be wearable without falling apart and without the risk of being lost. The gallery, on the other hand, should not be afraid to talk and think about commerce. A gallery is an enterprise.
Today, artists often have more than one gallery, and as Friedemann states “seldom give away the powers they have to a gallery. They own the work and can take it to another venue regardless of how or where the gallery has been promoting it.” I do understand the problem for the gallery, but I don’t suppose Friedemann wants to tamper with the ownership of work that has left the studio. The only solution would be to invest in the work—buy it, become the owner/dealer, and acquire the exclusive rights to promote and sell it. There are some fine art galleries who are in the position to work like this but not in the jewelry world.
And then there are artists who organize, or participate in, events outside the gallery. Through these events, and through their websites, the artists can interact with the public. In my view, this is laudable and inevitable if we want contemporary jewelry to grow and reach other audiences. At the same time, collectors and other interested people love to meet the artist in his studio. They want to understand and feel the process. Nothing is more fascinating than hearing an artist talk while surrounded by his or her materials and fragments of work. This is the other side of the artwork in contrast to its public exposure, which is about the final result, the neatly displayed, the economical, the artwork that becomes part of a deal between seller and buyer. The galleries do not applaud this development because it is “less easy for the gallery to maintain a sense of control on the product/investment, and (…) less easy to justify the gallery going to new lengths and efforts on behalf of the artist” as Friedemann writes. But artists’ initiatives are not necessarily competing with galleries. They can also be seen as something extra, as another way to tickle their audience. Maybe Friedemann is right. Maybe the artist meeting potential buyers through his website, through public events, or in his studio is at odds with the gallery, but it is a development that can’t be stopped. Both artists and galleries should be aware of the implications of the Internet, open studios, and participatory events outside the gallery.
2. Contracts? What Contracts?
Outside of the art world, people are often amazed when they find out that galleries work without contracts. This fact is always explained as inherent to the character of a gallery, which is a combination of an ideological and idealistic approach and a commercial one. But the gallery can’t claim these idealistic intentions as solely theirs, and apparently the idealistic and the commercial also come into conflict. In the 1970s and 1980s, artists’ initiatives popped up out of disaffection with the art system. In Amsterdam for instance, this was quite a strong movement supported by the availability of many cheap squatter places that proved to be great art spaces. Art, music, and dance merged, and pioneers presented video, performance, and other art forms long before these were picked up by the Stedelijk Museum. In contemporary jewelry, alternative initiatives—for instance the exhibitions organized by Schmuck2/Susan Pietzsch, Op Voorraad, Steinbeisser, Dinie Besems’ Salons, and all sorts of temporary events during Schmuck in Munich—were introduced much later and have a different character and effect than those in the fine arts, which is in line with the history and nature of contemporary jewelry as an artistic field. These initiatives are often prompted by the urge to increase contemporary jewelry’s visibility. They offer other ways, trying to reach other audiences. In my view, now is the time for more such initiatives. Galleries and artists must find a way to deal with these initiatives. They must force themselves to discuss the issue and learn how to give and take in mutual agreement.
In my view, a contract or a letter of intent is a way to put down agreements between the gallery and the artist about exclusivity, percentages, payments, professional conduct, the regular production of work, and the regular promotion and exhibition of work. It can lead to a better understanding of each other’s position and responsibility and can certainly help deal with the “special case” of fairs. It is true that the gallery invests enormous amounts of money, time, and energy in top luxury art fairs. But instead of complaining about that, why shouldn’t it be possible to agree on an extra percentage with an artist for selling his work at an expensive art or design fair? Why not make your business more transparent? Why is there all this haze about costs, sales, and investments? Transparency is healthier for everyone.
I do agree that contracts do not offer any safety to the gallery or the artist, but I do think that a contract can offer a situation of clarity and mutual understanding. This, rather than a gentlemen’s agreement, should be the basis for trust, a notion that is so pivotal in the relationship between gallery and artist. It is impossible to anticipate every situation in a contract, but at least trying to write down what is expected of the artist and what is expected of the gallery would make for a healthier relationship between the two parties. By the way, model contracts do exist and are available, for instance from the Federation of European Art Galleries Association (FEAGA).
The article that started the discussion we are now having was written because of the sad loss of a vanguard gallery that made Amsterdam one of the centers of contemporary jewelry. If contemporary jewelry wants to be taken seriously, it should also be open to discussions about the “system of jewelry.” In the art world, galleries and the market are subject of studies, dissertations, conferences, and books. In the jewelry world, gallery directors react as if stung by a bee when a writer makes some remarks on that system. My remarks were not prompted by the idea “that artists are mistreated by galleries,” but by the idea that the gallery and the artist are having a mysterious and less-than-transparent affair. But I have Stefan to thank for giving me an opportunity to structure my thoughts on the subject. I very much intend to continue my research into “the system of contemporary jewelry” and develop this first outline into a more substantial publication.
1 There are many interesting publications on the art world, for instance by Luc Boltanski and Laurent Thévenot, and by Luc Boltanski and Eve Chiapello – these books give a theoretical context to the ‘economies of worth’. My favourite is a recent publication by Jan van Adrichem et al, Positioning the Art Gallery, the Amsterdam gallery world in an international context, Valiz Amsterdam 2012.
2 55 is the number of galleries mentioned in the monthly Amsterdam Exhibitions brochure published by Stichting AKKA in Amsterdam. For unknown reasons, jewelry galleries are not included in the list.
3 This figure regarding the amount of jewelry galleries is based on different sources. I took the list from AJF and compared it to the list in my own book and the galleries I have visited myself or heard about through Facebook and invitations. I visited many websites. From these figures, I deduced the number of 70 jewelry galleries worldwide.
4 According to Olav Velthuis, associate professor with the department of sociology and anthropology of the University of Amsterdam: “In London, Berlin, or New York, the total of additional revenue that galleries derive from their trading activities (on the secondary market, LdB) may amount to more than 50 percent of their total turnover.” (Jan van Adrichem et al, p.183). Jewelry galleries seldom deal in “second hand” jewelry, let alone that it is part of their business model. Today, antique jewelry dealers occasionally deal in high-end contemporary art jewelry by artists such as Giampaolo Babetto and Robert Smit. The rest is sold by auction and via websites. Jewelry galleries don’t profit at all from this extra source of income. The reason for this situation is unclear to me.
Artists, Galleries and Their Relationship(s) Read More »
As each edition of Schmuck grows in size, so does the frustration of its constituents. Chagrin about the insularity of the field accompanied the AJF team like background music during its four-day reporting extravaganza. Be that as it may, Schmuck 13 (the event) was anything but bearish: 67 exhibitions, 2 book launches, 5 lectures, and 1 party
To us—that is, those I imagine to be the general audience associated with texts such as this—the idea that the contemporary jewelry field must still be defined or comprehensively explained continues to be topical, as most people outside our small niche remain unaware that contemporary jewelry even exists and has existed for some time. For
What Is It That You Do Exactly? Read More »
Design Museum, London, England
December 5, 2012 – March 3, 2013
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne, Australia
April 20 – August 26, 2012
Susan Cohn has a longstanding career working across the art-craft-design divide. Living in Melbourne, Australia, she has been making artwork for more than 30 years and has exhibited extensively in Australia and overseas. Techno Craft: the work of Susan Cohn 1980–2000 was a major survey exhibition by the National Gallery of Australia that toured nationally. Her solo exhibition Black Intentions was presented by the National Gallery of Victoria in 2003. Cohn’s understanding of design and making has also enabled her to work as a designer for Alessi and as the curator of the international exhibition Unexpected Pleasures—the Art and Design of Contemporary Jewellery, commissioned by the Design Museum. I met her in Munich soon after Unexpected Pleasures was taken down and shipped back to its many participants. It seemed like an opportune moment to ask Susan how she managed that particularly ambitious project.
Ben Lignel: What did you learn during this experience?
Susan Cohn: The first “lesson” I learned from the project is that really not many people in the world know about contemporary jewelry. I realized how important it is that we change the way we engage with people outside the community. On the opening night, for example, about two thirds of the visitors were from the jewelry community. The other third was not, and their reaction—especially if they came from design—was very strong, and often ran along the lines of, “I did not know about this! Why did I not know about this?” This vindicated our working hypothesis that design and contemporary jewelry are like two people at a party. They’ve bumped into one another at the bar a few times, and they think they know one another, but they don’t. And Unexpected Pleasures was a platform to blind date them.
The second and probably most important thing I got out of this project is an overview of the field. The extensive research that went into the selection process meant that I really got a comprehensive glimpse of what is happening in jewelry today. The research for the selection process itself took two years.
How did you select the work for the show?
Susan Cohn: I really wanted a democratic form of application process. To begin with, after conducting some research on who is who and how best to reach the largest number of people, I sent out 3000 emails to makers, universities, associations, and galleries. This first email stated the curatorial premises of the show and asked for interested parties to send in five images of available works.
I received a total of 553 submissions, featuring roughly 2500 pieces, and did a first selection of the work based on the following criteria. First, how well did the work fit in the themes I chose for the exhibition, and then how did the work fit in a design museum exhibition? This second criterion was important. The show was really an attempt to encourage a dialogue between jewelry and design, and this had obvious implications on the selection process. For example, I could not choose work that had too much of a footing in art, such as installations and non-wearable objects.
During this first phase, I would put potential themes next to each submission. In some cases, the “fit” between a piece and a theme was obvious, but in a majority of cases, pieces seemed affiliated to several themes at once. During this initial stage, I managed to winnow the original 2500 submissions to 1000. I had chosen 21 themes for the “Linking Links” clusters in addition to the single theme of wearing for the “Worn Out” section. Considering space and installation constraints, it was decided with the museum to aim for a grand total of about 126 pieces for the clusters and 18 works for “Worn Out.” This meant I had to retain only six works per theme. In some cases, this proved harrowing. About 300 works were earmarked for the theme of “Earthly delights,” for example. This theme was about nature, and a lot of work from Asia and Australia somehow engaged with it. (Very few from Europe or the U.S. did, however.)
Obviously, during this second stage, I was accountable both to the field at large and to the exhibition and how it made sense as a show. The last selection stage was probably more about the show and trying to find a balanced, representative selection for each of the 21 themes. I mostly chose work that represented “opposite” approaches to the same subject.
Were there glaring omissions in the final selection?
Susan Cohn: For several reasons, mostly to do with my reluctance to intrude on or hassle people, I rarely asked for work I knew is out there but had not been submitted—however badly I wanted it for the exhibition. Nor did I call up people, including friends, who had chosen not to submit any work at all. I also wanted to remain true to the democratic nature of the selection process. As a result, some pieces considered seminal in the way they tackle this or that subject were not included. That is a shame, but I decided to stick to this thinking, and not make exceptions.
When looking at submissions from people I knew well, I also realized that makers went through a process of self-editing. The work submitted was not always the most representative or the best work from that artist for this exhibition. In some cases, I think this happened in response to the design element of the curatorial statement. People were sending work they thought might fit in a design museum.
The hardest thing, the very hardest thing in this whole project, was to commit to a final selection. I don’t think you can understand how hard it was to get down from 2500 works by 553 makers to 186 pieces from 126 jewelers. It was emotionally draining because, in effect, my curatorial position was defined as much by what I kept as by what I did not keep.
During opening night, I wore a bulletproof vest. I wanted to acknowledge the fact that some people not included in the show might be pissed off, and I wanted to make fun of the situation. (As ornamental messages go, this one was a complete flop. Most people thought I was wearing some weird back-straightening jacket.) It was also a way of saying I was ready for a fight, or at least criticism, but this never happened.
Did you get any negative feedback on the exhibition?
Susan Cohn: Not yet, no. Jewelers mostly acknowledged the massive amount of work that went into the project as well as the importance of the show. Otto Künzli and Paul Derrez, for example, said to me quite frankly that they did not agree with my curatorial choices, but that it was a seminal exhibition because of the context in which it was shown and the exposure it gave jewelry outside its usual audience. There was some criticism about the showcases and some about the book cover. I do regret that jewelry had to be shown inside showcases, but there is simply no way around that in museums.
What about your institutional partners, the Design Museum and the National Gallery of Victoria—what was their reaction to the show?
Susan Cohn: In Melbourne, the show had approximately 398,000 visits over four months. This is an extraordinary amount for any museum. I think several factors explain our Australian success. For starters, it was a free show, so many visited several times. It was also located in a strategic area of the museum. A lot of people would pass it on their way to something else and naturally wander in. And then, word-of-mouth snowballed, and people ended up coming that had very little obvious connection to the world of jewelry. A telling example is having a group of footballers sign up for a tour of the show.
London was different. There was an entry fee. The visitors’ demographics were narrower. I think it was mostly the design community that responded to the show. But Deyan Sudjic, the museum’s director, was very pleased with the overall response to the exhibition.
What did you plan, at the beginning, in order to engage visitors?
Susan Cohn: In Melbourne, a series of public programs happened during the exhibition. At one event, five jewelers who had works in the exhibition led floor talks of the show. We also hosted a party. Katie Scott, director of Gallery Funaki and I invited people to come and try on work from our collections. (It couldn’t be work from the exhibition, however, as that would have interfered with logistics.) The setup was quite simple. Visitors walked along a glass-walled corridor and could see the selection of available pieces through the glass. They then picked up a ticket and waited for their turn to wear the piece they selected. Their photographs were taken and then projected on a wall for the audience to see. (A selection of these photos was later shown in London.) This project involved a certain amount of role-playing—people tended to go for the more extravagant work—but in general, people were quite easy about it. It gave everyone a chance to see jewelry pieces on a range of different people.
Is visitor participation a way of breaking the ‘vertical ceiling’ – the glass that separates visitors from cultural artefacts?
Susan Cohn: Due to security and insurance constraints, most works in museums are displayed in showcases, which is difficult in the case of contemporary jewelry. Jewelry is about people. It talks for people, so the wearing is an integral part of the experience. Jewelry in a showcase is a “jewelry object,” so photography and visitor participation events are ways to bring the object alive. There is always the curiosity of how jewelry is worn, especially for someone unfamiliar with contemporary jewelry. This opportunity helped to move the object out of the showcase and onto people. It also introduced an element of play to the exhibition, countering the seriousness of work normally featured in museum showcases.
Unexpected Pleasures was an attempt to take contemporary jewelry to a new audience, a design-orientated audience, who by the nature of their interests could understand the language of contemporary jewelry. Visitor participation was an integral part of this experience. At the same time, the intention of the exhibition was to encourage the contemporary jewelry community to look further afield and consider the nature of design in their ways of working.
On Curating Unexpected Pleasures Read More »
Sienna Patti Lauren Fensterstock, Installation at John Michael Kohler Art Center (detail), 2013, sculpture/installation, paper; 4.27 x 6.1 x 4.27 m, photo: John Michael Kohler Art Center Sondra Sherman, Installation of Anthrophobia, SOFA Chicago, 2008, photo: Sienna Gallery Lauren Kalman, Spectacular, 2012, video/photograph, C-print on aluminum, 38.1 x 25.4 cm, photo by artist Work with
Sienna Gallery, Lenox, Massachusetts, USA Read More »
While there are museums in the world such as the Musée des Arts Decoratifs in Paris, the Schmuckmuseum in Pforzheim, and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London that have brilliant permanent jewelry galleries, few of them rival the impressive collection of contemporary jewelry on view in the Danner Rotunda at the Pinakothek der Moderne in Munich. The Danner Rotunda is part of the Die Neue Sammlung (the International Design Museum), which is housed under the state-sponsored roof of the Pinakothek along with the Architekturmuseum der Technischen Universität München (The Technical University’s Museum of Architecture), Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen (Bavarian State Painting Collections), and Staatliche Graphische Sammlung (The State Collection of Works on Paper).
What Rome is to ecclesiastic art or Brussels is to Art Nouveau architecture, Munich is to contemporary jewelry. Every year since 1959, the city hosts the Internationale Handwerksmesse (International Crafts Fair) of which “Schmuck,” the special, world renowned jewelry exhibition is a part and is sponsored by the Danner Foundation. The museum boasts that Munich is also the home of the German Werkbund (or Work Federation), founded in 1907. The purpose of this state-sponsored association, comprised mostly of architects and industrialists, was to encourage partnerships between traditional craft, design, and the industry.
The Die Neue Sammlung began to exhibit international contemporary jewelry in 2004. Although, when touring the space with museum director Dr. Florian Hufnagl, senior curator Dr. Petra Holscher, and jewelry artist Karl Fritsch in March 2012, AJF learned this was not soon enough. Dr. Hufnagel told the group that when he joined the museum 22 years ago, he was surprised that it did not have a jewelry collection alongside the other decorative arts, and he made it his mission to establish one. Dr. Hufnagel traveled around the world to meet the most important artists working in the medium. The first donation came in 1995 when, on the eve of his 60th birthday, celebrated artist and professor at the Munich Art Academy Peter Skubic gave 60 pieces of jewelry from his personal collection, none of which were by him. As a result of this generosity, the Austrian artist Sepp Schmölzer also bequeathed his collection to the museum. This was followed in 1996 by a donation from Marianne Schliwinski and Jürgen Eickhoff, whose Galerie Spektrum is located just across the plaza at Theresienstrasse 46D. On the strength of these three donations, the Danner Foundation gifted DM 1,000,000 to the museum for the installation of the jewelry in its own dedicated gallery within the museum, the Danner Rotunda. Their first permanent loan to the museum came in 1999. The Danner-Stiftung (Foundation) has been collecting and supporting contemporary jewelry since the 1980s. It did not have a permanent exhibition space, so the partnership with the Die Neue Sammlung was very opportune for both parties. Professors Hermann Jünger and Otto Künzli were asked to curate the inaugural permanent installation. Both men are beacons in the field, both taught at the Munich Art Academy, and their work is in the collection.
In March 2010, the collection was reinstalled under the guidance of its new curator Karl Fritsch. A former student of both Jünger and Künzli at the Munich Art Academy, Fritsch is seen as a one of the leading jewelers of his generation. Dr. Corinna Rösner is chief curator at the Die Neue Sammlung and oversees the Danner Rotunda. She said that Fritsch was chosen for the job because he represents a younger generation of artist jewelers, and his outlook on the jewelry field is very different from that of his predecessors. During the AJF visit, Fritsch divulged that he had approximately 1000 pieces to choose from, not including those he recommended the museum acquire. His first task as curator was to look at the entire collection. He felt that the first installation already encapsulated the best work, and the possibility of new loans made it easier for him to make his statement about the contemporary jewelry.
The collection of the Danner Foundation includes artists from all over the world. It begins with the avant-garde artists of the 1960s and takes us through to contemporary times. In fact, some of the work featured in the exhibition is so new that it begs the question whether it’s evolved enough to be included in a museum exhibition of this caliber. For example, the work of 2012 Herbert Hofmann Prize winners Alexander Blank and Despho Sophocleous is already on view. Their inclusion in the exhibition exemplifies why the Danner Rotunda chose Fritsch as the curator in 2010. A relatively young artist himself, Fritsch is familiar with the new generation of makers. But, should the work of such fresh talent already be part of the collection, and what are the criteria for the inclusion in the Danner Rotunda? The foundation would not comment on its acquisition policy for this article, and we are left to make our own conclusions.
The Danner Rotunda is located in the sub-basement of the museum, reached by walking down a long flight of stairs. This area was used for museum storage before Dr. Hufnagel suggested it be put to better use. The gallery is a narrow circular space with a low ceiling and wide columns, and it is painted a dark chocolate brown. Light emanates from vertical wall-mounted vitrines that line the walls and from freestanding vitrines placed around the gallery’s circumference. The bursts of color come from the jewelry itself. Most pieces are not made of precious stones. Shimmering gold and silver settings are interspersed with bright plastics, enamels, or various found objects. One vitrine can have as many as 34 pieces on view, all different types, all in different materials, by artists as diverse as Lisa Walker, Jiro Kamata, Klaus Bürgel, Gerd Rothmann, and Francesco Pavan. Alternatively, some vitrines are dedicated to the work of just one artist. There are a total of 34 vitrines in all. The display cases have remained the same from the first installation in 2004. The only thing that has changed is the color of the walls, which were previously painted white. Originally, Karl Fritsch wanted to show all of the jewelry on shelves, with the entire collection on one side of the gallery and his “chosen” pieces on the opposite, but due to spatial constraints, this was not possible. Every visitor to the Danner Rotunda leaves with a memento: a brochure with a numbered sketch and information about every piece on display.
In my opinion, the most pivotal point of the Danner Rotunda is that contemporary jewelry is recognized as a vital art form on the same plane as the fine and decorative arts. While it may be relegated to the grotto-like sub-basement of this glorious museum, it is certainly not treated like an ugly step-child. In fact, when you get through the encyclopedic installation of the decorative arts galleries on the upper floors (80,000 objects are in the Die Neue Sammlung’s collection, the largest in the world), and you are left breathless aching to see more of Ruhlmann, Rietveld, and Mackintosh, you understand that this is an institution that takes itself very seriously. While the Danner Foundation’s extensive inventory is on a par with the Pinakotheke’s other permanent collections, the appointment of Karl Fritsch as collection curator, and his decision to exhibit the latest in contemporary jewelry reflects the foundation’s singular position within the museum. Its role is that of a partner of, rather than a witness to, a young and thriving creative field. The foundation is encouraging emerging talent (many of whom are graduates of the city’s Art Academy) by assuring them that their work can end up in this serious museum. Secondly, the foundation is educating its visitors by showing them, in one place, what is happening in contemporary jewelry right now.
Ruhlmann, Rietveld, and Mackintosh were considered “fresh talent” at some point too. A little encouragement goes a long way.
The Danner Rotunda, Die Neue Sammlung, Munich Read More »
Finland has been quietly influencing the conversation in contemporary jewelry for many years by hosting events that incorporate workshops, exhibitions, and symposiums to showcase international and Finnish artists. These events started in 1997 and have occurred every three years, aiming to “bring together contemporary jewelers, curators, collectors, students, professors, and people interest in contemporary
KORU4 Symposium 2012: Kindred Spirits Read More »
Bernhard Schobinger, Bottlenecklace, 1988, Die Neue Sammlung, State Museum fur Applied Art and Design in the Pinakothek der Moderne, München. Loan Danner Foundation München. (image taken from the Internet) Jacomijn van den Donk, 1992, ring, gold, pearl, glass, ivory (re-used piano keys) Obviously, there is no educational track to become a gallery director, and there
Galerie Louise Smit: 1986-2012 Read More »
Galerie Spektrum was founded in Munich, Germany, by Juergen Eickhoff and Marianne Schliwinski in November 1981. Throughout the past year, they’ve celebrated their 30th anniversary with shows called Forever Young and The Way It Fits. Eickhoff and Schliwinski have been part of the effort to bring contemporary jewelry to the attention of the public all those years. They have the advantage of being located in a city with a world-renown jewelry school and where the field gathers annually at the Schmuck exhibition.
The current jewelry show of Doris Betz and Attai Chen seems a very proper first blog post for Galerie Spektrum. Both jewelers attended the Akademie der Bildenden Küenste and live in Munich. I’ve asked them to answer the same interview questions, and I like the juxtaposition of their individual thoughts.
Susan Cummins: In your joint show at Galerie Spektrum, there is an undercurrent of similarity as if you were from the same family. Why do you think that is?
Attai Chen: It is a good question. I feel the same way. I can say that we both live in Munich and were students of Otto Künzli. For my first two years at the academy, Doris was the assistant tutor of Otto. In a way, we do come from the same family. I guess that, on some level of our subconscious, in the “Munich style,” there is an undefined similarity we all share.
Doris Betz: As a member of this “family,” I can’t see the obvious similarity, which might be typical of family members in general. Attai and I talked about possible common grounds before we installed the exhibition. There is a certain interest in everything that grows, in the observation of nature, and in the power of life. I would say we have a strong inner need to express ourselves in an uncontrolled, unplanned way. Plus, I see the longing for directness.
Doris Betz/Attai Chen Read More »
Museum brochure, World Jewellery Museum, Seoul The museum is a slim black box with three floors of displays, leading up to a temporary gallery at the top with panoramic views of the old city. It was conceived by Lee Kang-Won early in her 30-year period as a diplomat’s wife, during a posting in Ethiopia. Posts
World Jewellery Museum, Seoul, Korea Read More »
Galleries exhibiting jewelry are an important part of our community and the people who run them have interesting backgrounds and stories to tell. In this interview Stefan Freidemann from Ornamentum Gallery in Hudson, New York answered some questions posed by Damian Skinner. Please tell us the story of how you and your wife Laura Lapachin
Ornamentum Gallery, Hudson, New York Read More »
