Untitled 1987

This collage by Hannelore Baron has such a quiet and unassuming presence, yet it feels like a world. Looking at it, I imagine her in her studio, maybe late in the day, shuffling scraps of paper and cloth, arranging them just so. The colors are muted, mostly browns and tans, with these evocative blue splatters—like tears or rain. The surfaces are stained and distressed. There are these enigmatic shapes, like containers or buildings, rendered with such fragile lines. I feel the history of these materials, the way they’ve aged and been handled. I see echoes of Kurt Schwitters in the way she elevates humble materials, but there's also something uniquely feminine and intimate about her touch. I wonder what she was thinking about when she made this, what stories these fragments hold. Baron’s work reminds us that art can be found in the smallest, most overlooked corners of our lives. It’s like she’s whispering secrets to us across time.