Untitled (The Hotel Eden) 1945

Joseph Cornell made this dreamy, boxy assemblage, “Untitled (The Hotel Eden),” with found objects—bits of paper, wood, and paint. I can imagine him gathering all these odds and ends, each with its own story. The faded whites and browns feel like whispers of memory. It’s so fragile, like a stage set for a play that never happens. You get the feeling he was thinking about time, about things that are gone, and how we try to hold onto them. The parrot looks like it's waiting for the curtain to rise. I can see the connection with Kurt Schwitters, both making art from the refuse of the world, but Cornell’s is more poignant, more personal somehow. I love that artists like Cornell and Schwitters remind us that art isn't just about skill, it’s about seeing the world in a different way, about finding beauty and meaning in the unexpected.