Wright Auction

A well-known recluse, Joseph Cornell spent much of his adult life inside the small house on Utopia Street in Flushing, Queens that he shared with his domineering mother and ailing brother. His escape was in the miniature worlds he created using ephemera and bric-a-brac collected on his excursions throughout the city. His lyrical and highly sophisticated collages and assemblages evoked deep emotions of reverie and regret, referencing magic, poetry, literature and art. The works were precious to him as each element was imbued with personal meaning and as such, he was reticent to ever part with them.

This innate romanticism also made it difficult for Cornell to ever truly participate in the art scene, preferring to remain on the sidelines, almost as a voyeur, and interact with his fellow creatives on his terms. His sporadic attempts to initiate relationships often took the form of letters sent to those he admired, usually the same letter sent to multiple people, containing suggested readings or cryptic literary references. The letters were often a complete surprise for the recipient and though many would go unanswered, his reputation was already such that some were flattered by the recognition. 

One such recipient was the young Grace Hartigan. Cornell adored women and while he was not one to pursue romantic relationships, he greatly enjoyed their friendship and correspondence. In the late 1950s, he sent a note out to a number of artists reading simply “Beware of Gifts Bearing Greeks”, a line from Virgil’s Aenied referring to the Trojan Horse. Grace was one of Cornell’s few responders and immediately was charmed by this wholly unexpected offer for connection. While she had never met Cornell, she was at this point familiar with his box constructions and so in response sent him a collage “filled with hearts and puns on Heart-igan”. Cornell answered back with a package of mysterious items, a riddle for her to solve, and a letter remarking that her sentiments had been “filed in rebus department - we trust correctly”. Contained in the box alongside old Greek letters, a favorite gift of Cornell’s, was a Bakelite heart pendant, a Valentine. Slipping the pendant on a silver chain, Grace would wear and cherish the object for the rest of her life, a token from a brilliantly eccentric artist whose works would come to pioneer the practice of assemblage.