Reflection on "Encrypted Letter"

Konstfack was invited as one of the 40 jewellery classes from over the world to attend a pop-up exhibition at Pinakothek der Moderne, the design museum in Munich, during the jewellery week. It was a celebration for the 100th anniversary of the museum. The event was for one night only, so a large crowd was to be expected.

The work I brought, titled Encrypted Letter (2026), was a piece of folded steel sheet with enamel on the surface, which imitates the look of a piece of paper. The idea was that I would invite visitors to take a piece of the ‘paper’ with them and wear it as a brooch. The steel sheet was precut in most places, mirroring how a piece of paper would be torn; However, the person still needs to put in a small effort in order to break the metal connection.

Original "paper", made of mild steel and enamel

I wish to share some of my observations, as a lot happened that night. This piece of jewellery is not an object, but rather a site for things to happen, which is what I am continuously investigating. Some interactions were expected and some were not.

I will put my intention and personal thoughts at the end of this writing, as I do not consider them the priority of this work. However, for those of you who are not satisfied with only observing the process and would like to borrow a perspective, they will be there.

1.

Almost everyone who was invited to take a piece started with carefully touching it, then realized it was not an easy task. They would give their coat, scarf, and drink to the person next to them, or put things down on the floor. Then they would start trying for real.

There is a certain frustration in the interaction, which I enjoyed. It’s like when you try to put on a necklace by yourself, or couldn’t find the ear hole for an earring. You might sweat a little. It’s taking longer than you expected. People are watching.

When the piece is finally detached from the rest of the steel, most people look at it. Examine it. I suppose they couldn’t really tell what it was when it was part of the larger piece, but now, as an object in their hand, they can.

There is also the interaction between myself, the maker – or the lever, in this case – counteracting the movement of the audience. Firstly, without me holding the other end of the piece, they could not break anything away. Secondly, it becomes both a collaboration and a fight between the artist and the audience. By taking a piece, the audience arguably makes the piece rather than the artist; yet the breakage points are pre-cut. How much of an unexpected action can the audience perform? We have made a brooch together, through a rather fun or unpleasant experience. Is this a metaphor for all sort of artwork interaction between the artist and the audience?

First piece getting taken off

2.

There was a lady with her friend who seemed doubtful about the idea at first. When she broke off a piece, she looked at it and said, (in sort of surprise and relief), “It’s a little house!”

“It actually looks pretty good!” her friend said.

In his book Designing Design, Kenya Hara talks about how the human mind takes pleasure in complex things that carry “a plethora of information” (2021, p.105); that our brain enjoys processing far more sensory information than we usually encounter. I would also argue that, for the general public, people like to make meaning out of abstract things. The association helps the brain to understand and build connections to something familiar.

With this “relief” that the piece of steel does not just look like an abstract scrap, but resembles an actual shape, it somehow appears more intentional and slightly more valuable than an abstract piece with no meaning.

She left happy.

3.

Another participant seemed very excited when I gave her the instruction to break off a piece from my hand.

“You don’t get to break things very often,” she said, probably after looking at everyone’s well-presented jewellery along the way. In the world of jewellery, many things are fragile and generally presented behind glass so they are not ruined by handling. This pop-up exhibition, where you can see many jewellery pieces worn on the body and observe them closely, is already refreshing. Being able to handle something and even being encouraged to break it, is definitely a rare occasion.

The moment the steel breaks away from the rest does feel satisfying. It also makes a crisp “ting” sound, a small echo in a micro space, penetrating the noise of the crowd.

The act of breaking also chips away some surface enamel, revealing the steel underneath. If I were to stand in the same spot for the whole night, I would probably accumulate a pile of debris around me. The material finds its weak point and escapes, taking a very thin layer of steel with it. I had this feeling of content disappearing. It becomes less and less important whether there was ever a message on that piece of paper. Meaning blurs.

With each piece gone, what was left in my hand no longer looked like a piece of paper. I felt that once it passed the halfway point, the audience could no longer associate what I was holding with the concept of paper.

Progress throughout the night

Intention

The title of the piece is Encrypted Letter. A piece of white paper invites many imaginations without words being written. I love the look of a folded paper. It has been opened and closed many times. Perhaps it was carried around a lot, and each crease is a result of body movement. Is it in your pocket? In your wallet? On your wall, your shelf?

Why?

There is a potential narrative that provokes curiosity.

At that particular event, wearing the piece created a connection among people. You would walk around in the crowd and notice a brooch similar to the one you were wearing. You might start a conversation with that person, or exchange a subtle smile.

But what about after? When the party is over, everyone leaving for their home. A sea of strangers. That piece of steel may end up on your shelf. As a bookmark. A fridge magnet. Or just simply in a bin, like a piece of scrap steel (which it is anyway).

And now the message on that original piece of paper is truly encrypted. Not by layers of covering, not mathematically, nothing complicated, but simply by people who will never see each other again.

It is important for me that there is nothing left of the piece.

9 pieces from "Encrypted Letter"