This Los Angeleno by way of Costa Rica marries clay and natural fiber into elegant hybrid vessels.
In the Central American country of Costa Rica, the free spirits have a saying: Pura vida. Literally "pure life," it's both an everyday expression ("How's it going?" "Pura vida.") and a state of mind.
"It means everything's OK, it's life, it's all good," says artist Hannie Goldgewicht, who hails from the lush tropical paradise. "That's the mentality, definitely."
Goldgewicht lives in Los Angeles now, but her earthy, nature-inspired vessels radiate pura vida. Part pot and part basket, each is a sensuous clay form woven to a supple coiled neck, or band, of pine needles. Hard and soft, vibrant and muted, smooth and textured-Goldgewicht blends it all into an elegant hybrid.
"I've always looked for ways to integrate materials, mix mediums," says the 34-year-old. "The material, the workmanship, getting your hands dirty-that's the biggest inspiration for me. Bending the metal. Working the clay. Finding a way to make things look good together."
On a recent morning, Goldgewicht welcomes a visitor into her small 1950s house on a quiet street off a busy boulevard in the San Fernando Valley. She's warm and friendly, with tousled honey curls, a golden tan and the barest trace of a Costa Rican accent. "It's kind of a mess," she apologizes; she's just back from an art fair up in Palo Alto and hasn't unpacked all the merchandise and display gear she typically hauls to and from those events. In fact, it's not untidy at all, just pleasantly lived-in and casually stylish,the home of a creative young family. Goldgewicht's 6-year-old son is in his room, playing dinosaurs. Her husband, Leo Gotlibowski, an art director for film and TV who also makes jewelry, is away on a visit to his native Argentina.
In the sunny living room that doubles as her studio, Goldgewicht has her potter's wheel and a work table covered with ceramics she's fired in her backyard kiln. Later she'll paint and patina them, then slip waxed thread into little holes along the rims and start to coil. On the floor are big bags stuffed with needles, scavenged from her current favorite tree at a church a few blocks away.
Goldgewicht always travels with a rake and sacks in her car, just in case. "Wherever I go, I'm constantly looking up at pines." She picks up a single needle cluster and admires its long, graceful tapers. "Isn't it cool?" she says softly.
Lined up on shelves are completed pieces, ceramics in luscious rainforest colors - ruby, turquoise, persimmon, terra cotta, cocoa, jade - with a leathery matte finish that complements the texture of the basketry. The shapes are organic, suggesting gourds, boats, tree hollows or the human form. They're wonderful to touch, and fragrant, too, with a hint of pine. Goldgewicht makes them in a range of sizes, from small boxes and pencil holders for less than $50 to larger vases for up to $500; on the higher end, she does wall sculptures in copper and bronze. "To survive as an artist," she says, "you have to be able to do a little bit of everything."
At craft fairs, customers tend to misplace the aesthetic or influence at play in her pieces, which look at once contemporary and primitive. "I hear, ‘Oh, they're so Southwestern, or Latino, or Native American,' " says Goldgewicht, who doesn't mind. "Everybody sees what they want to see."
If anything, the deeper shade of soul in Goldgewicht's work is a reflection of the unspoiled beauty of her homeland, which, by some measures, preserves a greater percentage of its natural habitat than any other nation on Earth. "It's a country that values its nature and tries to protect it," she says. Her paternal grandparents immigrated to Costa Rica from Poland just before World War II. Her father was born there and became a biologist; her mother, a native New Yorker, made jewelry. Like many artists, Goldgewicht always knew she'd be one. She was already exhibiting sculpture and pottery locally when she got a fine arts degree from the National University of Costa Rica in 2000. That same year, on a visit to Argentina, she learned pine needle basketry from her husband's aunt Delfa Deriu, a fiber artist, and had an epiphany.
"Instantly I said to myself, ‘OK, I have to poke holes in the pottery and put [woven pine needles] on top.' That was it."
In 2007 Goldgewicht and Gotlibowski decided to try their luck in L.A. She still feels a bit new and unsettled in this land of freeways and strip malls, but enjoys the sunshine (Costa Rica's rainy season can last up to eight months of the year) and the brown-gold landscape, so different from the abundant green with which she grew up. With so many Californians vacationing in Costa Rica these days, she gets frequent reminders of home. Amazingly, she's met more than one customer who bought her work in some tourist shop years ago.
"I've heard people in Beverly Hills walk past my booth and whisper, ‘Don't we have that?' That's very cool."
Joyce Lovelace is American Craft's contributing editor.






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