JUNE 23 • 2022 | 47

and then installing it back in 
the window, I photographed 
the window — but the focus 
was not on what the window 
showed, inside or outside, 
but on the glass. Then, when 
I printed the photograph, I 
framed it using the broken 
glass. Finally, you have the 
object, and you are viewing 
the documentation of the 
object through that object. 
This was also a reference 
to the Charlie Chaplin 
movie, The Kid, in which he 
teams up with an orphan kid 
who runs who around the 
neighborhood throwing rocks 
at windows. Chaplin then 
shows up to repair the glass. 
That was another reference 
to the gallery or art world, 
where we are selling these 
broken windows. So, I was 
breaking the windows of the 
gallery space, reframing them 
and then selling them.
But through that 
fascination with the broken, 
shattered glass, I actually 
did a series on Kristallnacht. 
Very similar, as I broke a 
mirror and then re-glued and 
reframed it, but I used found 
photos from Kristallnacht. 

In that series, I introduced 
another element, which was 
the mirror. In some of those 
shattered pieces you could 
actually see the reflection 
of yourself. So, it was not 
any more the object and the 
representation of the object, 
but more involving the viewer 
in the work, to become part 
of the work. You see your 
reflection, as well as the 
mess of the Kristallnacht in a 
very blurry, black and white 
snapshot. 
By working with shattered 
glass, I discovered how to 
work with it — and that’s how 
I could use it in the tree.
RF: Because I have an 
interest in the Stolpersteine 
project in Europe, I was 

intrigued to discover 
your work with the form. 
The whole point of a 
stolpersteine [a brass 
nameplate set in pavement 
marking the last known 
address for a Nazi victim 
— there are more than 
45,000 so far] is to inscribe 
a person’s name and tie 
it to a specific place, yet 
you do something quite 
different, using blank 
stones and moving them 
to various sites, including 
an art museum in Münster, 
Germany. Why?
AS: It started because I had 
been to Berlin and I’m Jewish, 
so my attention was naturally 
drawn to that memorial. 
And I immediately liked it 

very much because I found it 
in a way very nonintrusive, 
but at the same time very 
present. I like things in the 
street because as an artist 
I was always collecting 
things in the street, so I was 
very aware of the public 
environment. I also liked that 
it was kind of an empty space 
memorial, comparable to the 
one dedicated to the burned 
books in Berlin, a sort of anti-
space.
Since that was in my mind, 
after a few years I began to 
become very curious about 
what was underneath in the 
ground. I did more research 
and discovered it is actually a 
cobblestone, a cube. I found 
that cube to be beautiful in 
itself, at least the combination 
of the material, and it led me 
to the idea of reproducing 
that block. 
What I wanted to show 
was that this can happen 
anywhere, this can happen 
to anybody, especially in 
thinking about living in 
Europe, thinking about 
migration and the forced 
displacement of people. 

ROB FRANCIOSI

Stolpersteine 
in Europe

LEFT: In this work, Schlesinger broke the windows of the gallery space, reframed them and then sold them. RIGHT: Schlesinger’s pieces on 
Krystallnacht.

DVIR GALLERY

DVIR GALLERY

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