The eighties saw a gold revival among the Paduan goldsmiths – Giampaolo Babetto is one of the goldsmiths whose work she has been admiring ever since – and this was followed by a much less “restrained” attitude towards gold among her fellow goldsmiths in Germany, especially among the younger ones. Christa Lühtje is convinced that the classical goldsmith’s art will never lose its significance – one just has to approach it with the utmost care.
It is not obvious in all her pieces, but from time to time we are able to recognize Christa Lühtje’s actual teacher: nature. The apple trees in her grandparents’ orchard on the outskirts of Hamburg belong to the fond memories of her youth; today she tends her own garden with loving care. In her sketches and watercolours of leaves and blossoms she fathoms the mysteries of nature, studying forms and outlines, capturing the processes of wilting and withering. In their own small way, leaves and blossoms testify to the immense power of nature, and yet they themselves are unspectacular, transient. They contain the entire energy of the tree, and yet they live but for a short time. Christa Lühtje sees them as allegories which help her to understand and interpret the peculiarities of organic nature. In some of her pieces we can still make out the shape of a leaf, in others it has been turned into a geometrical ornament, like that of an Anatolian kelim.
Christa Lühtje’s work is succinct but not laconic; it is reduced to essentials, though not without depth of feeling. Like an aphorism, it is able to put what it has to say in a nutshell. Its consistency moves and impresses us.
Outwardly, Christa Lühtje is a rational person, and not even her forty years in Bavaria have managed to change her North German ways. She loves the bright and sunny side of her life and work, but she is also familiar with the dark side of art and its dangers. The will alone can create nothing new of lasting value. The creative process demands one’s whole person, one’s whole life. The present forever demands the new, while the past acts as a corrective. Christa Lühtje sees herself as a goldsmith of her time, and hence of our time, too; as with all art forms, the goldsmith’s art is passed on from generation to generation – just like gestures or language.
It is not obvious in all her pieces, but from time to time we are able to recognize Christa Lühtje’s actual teacher: nature. The apple trees in her grandparents’ orchard on the outskirts of Hamburg belong to the fond memories of her youth; today she tends her own garden with loving care. In her sketches and watercolours of leaves and blossoms she fathoms the mysteries of nature, studying forms and outlines, capturing the processes of wilting and withering. In their own small way, leaves and blossoms testify to the immense power of nature, and yet they themselves are unspectacular, transient. They contain the entire energy of the tree, and yet they live but for a short time. Christa Lühtje sees them as allegories which help her to understand and interpret the peculiarities of organic nature. In some of her pieces we can still make out the shape of a leaf, in others it has been turned into a geometrical ornament, like that of an Anatolian kelim.
Christa Lühtje’s work is succinct but not laconic; it is reduced to essentials, though not without depth of feeling. Like an aphorism, it is able to put what it has to say in a nutshell. Its consistency moves and impresses us.
Outwardly, Christa Lühtje is a rational person, and not even her forty years in Bavaria have managed to change her North German ways. She loves the bright and sunny side of her life and work, but she is also familiar with the dark side of art and its dangers. The will alone can create nothing new of lasting value. The creative process demands one’s whole person, one’s whole life. The present forever demands the new, while the past acts as a corrective. Christa Lühtje sees herself as a goldsmith of her time, and hence of our time, too; as with all art forms, the goldsmith’s art is passed on from generation to generation – just like gestures or language.
Rüdiger Joppien
