Photos By Gail

Some pieces don’t just hang from the ceiling — they descend, like a moment caught mid-fall. This circa 1902 chandelier, created through the collaboration of Johann Loetz Witwe and E. Bakalowits Söhne, is less about rigid structure and more about movement, rhythm, and glow.

What immediately stands out is its verticality. Rather than a traditional branching chandelier, this one is composed of a series of long, delicate drops — textile-wrapped cords punctuated with rich amber glass beads. These beads don’t just decorate; they create a visual cadence, like a string of glowing notes suspended in air. The hammered brass ceiling plate above quietly anchors the piece, allowing everything else to flow downward in a loose, cascading arrangement.

At the end of each strand, the real magic happens. The Loetz shades are unmistakable —softly flared, tulip-like forms that feel organic and slightly otherworldly. Their rose-pink glass is alive with a subtle, feathered iridescence that leans toward warm gold when lit. Unlike the tighter, threadlike patterns often seen in Loetz glass, these surfaces read as light diffusing through petals or glowing from within a living form.

And glow they do. The illumination here is warm, intimate, almost molten. It turns the shades into tiny lanterns, each one radiating a soft amber core that echoes the beads above. The effect is less  object and more atmosphere.

Installation View

This is where the piece aligns so beautifully with Jugendstil ideals. Around 1900, designers weren’t interested in static perfection —they wanted flow, nature, and a sense of life. This chandelier embodies that philosophy. The strands feel like vines or tendrils. The shades suggest blossoms. Even the irregular spacing adds to its organic, almost botanical presence.

What I find especially compelling is how informal it feels for something so finely made. There’s no stiffness here, no strict symmetry. Instead, it embraces a kind of controlled looseness — a design that feels composed, but never forced.

Bakalowits provided the elegance, Loetz supplied the alchemy, but together they created something that feels less like a fixture and more like an experience—one that shifts depending on the light, the angle, even the time of day. Over a century later, it still feels fresh — not because it looks modern, but because it never tried to be anything but alive.

Spotted in the Booth for Kunsthandel Nikolaus Kolhammer at The Winter Show, 2026