The New Yorker

Esther Kläs

January 2, 2012

Goings On About Town: Art

Esther Kläs

If there’s such a being as a born sculptor, this thirty-year-old German is one. Modest monoliths in irregularly carved or molded resin, smeared with dun-colored pigments, stand around with peaceable dignity, as if lost in thought. Incidental uses of raw wood, masking tape, plaster, and cement suggest slang idioms in a native tongue—matter, speaking of, for, and to itself. Kläs says she imagines her works “all alone in the space at night and it would still be fine”—recalling Pascal’s remark that all human misery stems from an inability to sit quietly, alone in a room. Kläs’s art might have assuaged him. Through Jan. 7.



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