Don’t you dare to fall off my blouse!

On April 21st, 1999, a few goldsmiths got together in the “Fraunhofer”, a time-honored Munich pub, and founded a regular get-together. From then on, they met the last Wednesday of every month to talk about jewelry, the scene, God and the world over a cold beer, a glass of red wine, and a hearty meal. The circle of regulars grew and changed, only the young talent still in training and all jewelry gallery owners, collectors and customers were categorically denied attendance. At some point, the group dissolved just as quietly as it had formed.

However, one of these meetings has become legendary. It was in the late spring of 2001, before the smoking ban took effect. Clouded in blue smoke, Volker Atrops, Peter Bauhuis, Doris Betz, Waltraud Erlacher, Therese Hilbert, Otto Künzli, Karen Pontoppidan and Bettina Speckner were sitting, talking, and gossiping as usual. Museums, galleries, colleagues; no one was spared. Business as usual. Then, the urge to switch from practical to utopian topics arose. Why shouldn’t the members of our regular get-together create an exhibition? A long and boisterous brainstorming session set in, ran wild, and carried us away into other spheres. The most ludicrous titles, topics and subjects wove in and out of the conversation. The group imagination foamed over like a well-poured beer. Sense, nonsense and madness merrily accompanied us for a good hour. But we didn’t really make any headway. Most of the twists and turns of our conversation dissolved like fog and have only survived piecemeal as shreds of words which no longer make any sense today.

Near exhaustion, it slipped out of someone’s mouth - from whose is no longer known. It was an ominous construct which at first went almost unobserved, and then, with every utterance, developed such a charm that it still fascinates us today: Don’t you dare to fall off my blouse!
At a late hour it became clear that we, the ones present on that fateful night, should and would title a modest but moving exhibition exclusively dedicated to brooches with this and only this sentence. The utmost secrecy was sworn so that no one would steal our practical and poetic title. Years went by, grass grew here and there. Most of the protagonists only vaguely remember this evening, only a few continued to dream about the words: “Don’t you dare to fall off my blouse!”

In the spring of 2010, Volker Atrops, Peter Bauhuis, Waltraud Erlacher, Therese Hilbert, Otto Künzli, Karen Pontoppidan and Bettina Speckner will be showing old as well as many new brooches in the Gallery of Applied Arts at the Bavarian Society of Arts and Crafts in Munich. Don’t you dare to fall off my blouse! A dream becomes true.