A Special Night at Cranbrook
March 13, 2015
by Celia Bertoia
Opening night of the Cranbrook exhibition, Bent, Cast, and Forged: the Jewelry of Harry Bertoia, in Bloomfield Hills was a special evening for all.
The lecture was open only to Cranbrook Museum members, so it was somewhat exclusive. These are people who love and appreciate Harry Bertoia from way back.
Although I have given many presentations, the Cranbrook event took on unique importance and heightened feeling because that location was where it all started for Harry.
Cranbrook Art Academy was the basis of all that came afterwards, the root foundation of Harry’s later career.
We arrived a tad early and had a chance to walk the grounds full of Carl Milles sculpture, well-preserved brick buildings and inspiring fountains. If you have not had a chance to visit the Cranbrook campus, it is a must-see in the Detroit area.
Harry had dabbled in jewelry making at Cass Technical High School as a teenager, but it was at Cranbrook where he had access to an equipped metal smith shop and supplies.
He experimented with many different types of metal and gained the groundwork of knowledge of various alloys and metals.
He discovered an old print shop in the basement of Cranbrook and began his prolific production of the monotypes.
He investigated numerous techniques of metal craft in spinning metal vases, constructing tea pot sets, and playing around with wire of all sizes.
He even learned how to make his own wire in a similar fashion to making spaghetti noodles, fed through small holes of specialized gear.
It was at Cranbrook where he met people who would resurface throughout his life in important ways. Eero Saarinen, an instructor not much older than Harry, was later the first architect to commission Harry for a monumental architectural sculpture. Charles and Ray Eames, fellow students and instructor, would hire Harry to help on their chair designs and preparation for manufacturing readiness.
Florence (Schust) Knoll, student and friend, had the foresight to invite Harry to join her and Hans at Knoll, Inc. where the Diamond chair came to life.
Brigitta (Valentiner) Bertoia, a student in his jewelry class, caught Harry’s eye and became his wife and my mother. Clifford West, fellow student, eventually made an award-winning film of Harry’s work.
But getting back to the evening itself, it was a treat to meet Shelley Selim, the curator, with whom I’d been emailing for months (years actually) in preparation for the show. She is a cute, slim, young thing and was outfitted in a fashionable short black dress. Mark Baker put the actual mountings of the jewelry exhibition together and he is a handsome young man who did an incredible job of making the pieces appear as if floating in mid-air.
It’s always good to see Greg Wittkopp, the director of the museum, who has been warm and helpful to me all along. Then there were all the fans who own Bertoias, or those who sold Bertoias, or those who just love Bertoia, all of them relaying their stories. One couple, Aaron and Maria, who deserve an entire article to themselves, had driven over six hours to meet me. It is an honor to hear the tales of admiration and delight and wonder from all of these folks.
Looking at so many Bertoia jewelry items all in one place gave me a deeper understanding of my father’s work. It is always lovely to see photos of his pieces, but to see them in person is to notice the fine craftsmanship, the attention to detail, the imperfect perfection.
I now know that in order to authenticate a previously unknown Bertoia piece, I simply must see it live.
Because Harry was so beset with nature and so aligned with universal law, his work reflects, like nature, the beautiful asymmetric symmetry and unbalanced harmony of all natural objects. The tonal tops were usually just a bit uneven, the jewelry borders were rather random and the bushes never totally trimmed just like plants in the wild. There is natural beauty in the chaos, and order in the randomness.
Harry never replicated or copied, but rather captured the essence of objects and created his own version of them.
As I gave the lecture to a packed auditorium, I felt Harry with me. In wearing his Cranbrook constructed silver belt, his touch was literally upon me.
Sometimes the words that came out of my mouth were his and not mine. Although not particularly humble in my own life, Harry’s humility came over me during the presentation. It was all about him, not me, and I can only hope that I successfully relayed his energy and spirit.
I’m sure he was smiling down upon all the fans and supporters. The lecture was well received and hopefully his legacy spread just a little further by its completion.
After a flurry of catalog signings and cocktail imbibing, we were nudged along to the special-invitation only dinner. A long Harry Potter-type table, gorgeously set to the hilt in the Cranbrook House (the George Booth home), provided the stage for enough networking and schmoozing to delight any art lover.
Around me sat most of the important leaders of Cranbrook, several Bertoia collectors, various sponsors of the event and a few normal folks like me and my cousins. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous is rather fun, but really it’s just a chance to get to know some fellow humans. Considering most of their elevated positions and successful careers, clearly these were intelligent, sharp, social, visionary and clever people.
I told my stories and they told theirs and we laughed! I was able to verbalize my vision for the foundation and they told me of their plans for catapulting Cranbrook into the 21st century.
It is extremely rewarding for me to have a night like the one at Cranbrook. Many months of preparation all culminated in a warm jovial evening.
While Harry’s highlight was creating his masterpieces, mine is sharing Harry with others.
I love my job.
