The Art of Connection: How Maren Hassinger’s Work Redefines What It Means to Create
There’s something profoundly human about Maren Hassinger’s art—a quality that transcends the materials she uses and the spaces she transforms. Personally, I think what makes her work so captivating is its ability to turn the mundane into the magical. Take her use of knots, for instance. Knots are everywhere in her retrospective, Living Moving Growing, at the Berkeley Art Museum (BAMPFA). But these aren’t just knots; they’re symbols of connection, of effort, of the everyday rituals we often overlook. One thing that immediately stands out is how Hassinger elevates these simple actions into something profound. Tying a knot becomes a metaphor for bringing people together, for creating bonds that are both literal and emotional.
What many people don’t realize is that Hassinger’s art is deeply rooted in the idea of repetition and its transformative power. Knots, after all, are repetitive by nature. But in her hands, they become more than just functional—they become a language. In Untitled Rope, four massive industrial ropes are arranged in a loose macrame knot, almost begging to be pulled taut. If you take a step back and think about it, this piece isn’t just about the ropes; it’s about the potential energy, the unspoken invitation to participate. As BAMPFA curator Anthony Graham notes, it’s a latent performance, a reminder that art isn’t just something we observe—it’s something we can engage with, even complete.
This idea of participation is central to Hassinger’s practice. Her piece Sign of the Times, for example, is a collaborative effort where visitors twist and knot strips of the New York Times into massive ropes that hang from the gallery walls. What this really suggests is that art isn’t confined to the artist’s hands; it’s a communal act. The workshops Hassinger leads aren’t just about creating a sculpture—they’re about breaking down barriers, about curators, experts, and audiences interacting as equals. From my perspective, this is where her work becomes radical. In a world that often feels divided, Hassinger’s art insists on togetherness, on the idea that we’re all in this together.
A detail that I find especially interesting is her use of materials that are often discarded or overlooked. Plastic bags, newspaper, wire—these are the building blocks of her sculptures. In Love (Pyramid), she fills neon pink shopping bags with her breath and tiny love notes, turning consumerist waste into a source of wonder. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it challenges our perceptions of value. What we might see as trash, Hassinger sees as potential. This raises a deeper question: What else in our lives are we dismissing as insignificant when it could be transformed into something beautiful?
Hassinger’s work also grapples with identity and politics, though these themes are often subtler in her sculptural pieces. In Birthright and Daily Mask, she confronts issues of race and heritage head-on. Daily Mask, in particular, is a powerful statement—a closeup of her face as she applies grease paint in a depiction of blackface. It’s a piece that forces us to confront the complexities of identity and representation. As a Black female artist who emerged in the 1970s, Hassinger’s journey hasn’t been easy. But her ability to weave these personal and political narratives into her work without sacrificing its accessibility is, in my opinion, one of her greatest strengths.
What this retrospective at BAMPFA does so brilliantly is highlight the consistency of Hassinger’s vision over 50 years. From her early performances to her large-scale installations, there’s a throughline of care, joy, and connection. Graham’s hope that the show will encourage people to slow down and notice the small gestures in their own lives feels particularly timely. In a world that often feels chaotic and disconnected, Hassinger’s art is a reminder of the power of simplicity, of the beauty in the everyday.
If you ask me, the true magic of Maren Hassinger’s work lies in its ability to make us feel seen, to remind us that we’re part of something larger. Whether it’s through a knot, a breath, or a strip of newspaper, she invites us to participate, to care, to connect. And in doing so, she redefines what it means to create.
Maren Hassinger: Living Moving Growing is on display at the Berkeley Art Museum until 29 November. If you have the chance, go—not just to see the art, but to experience the kind of radical togetherness Hassinger envisions. It’s a rare opportunity to be part of something that feels both deeply personal and universally human.
