During our recent trip to Austin, we spent time in a series of small shops focused on unique objects found through travel. As travelers ourselves, we gravitated to these establishments and spent hours walking through, touching this and opening that. We felt a kinship with the owners and saw represented in the collections, cultures we have ourselves experienced over the years.
These shops and the objects they curate evoke an emotion akin to longing or nostalgia, but perhaps more forward looking. In those disparate objects we see roads traveled and journeys yet to come. An old chest of drawers at Mi Casa Gallery raises the question: whose hands touched this? What did each compartment hold? From those questions more arise until in the mind an entire landscape takes shape and we somehow imagine ourselves in the midst. Perhaps residing in some dusty border town a hundred years ago. Perhaps we find ourselves in the desert of Rajasthan, camels laden with bags for trade. Or perhaps we sit in ancient Peru with the Incan gods alive all around us. It’s impossible not to lose yourself in these flights of fancy.
Saskia’s art touches that same place inside. We joke that she likes beauty and I like meaning, but the two are inescapably linked. What has more beauty than something well-made, which has stood the test of time? What object of beauty tells no story? And what story is worth hearing that has no beauty?