Curator’s Foreword for the Exhibition “HOME”
We are invited to a gallery exhibition by two artists, Laura Rainbow (Art Studio Laura Rainbow) and Irena Poje Oxenham (Amalgam Glass), titled Home. Even as we approach the space, through the gallery windows we make first contact with the works, and the view already begins to tell a story.
We are entering November, the month that leads us toward winter, and with it comes a stronger desire to withdraw into a warm, familiar space — intimate and dear. Home is the place where we are ourselves, safe and relaxed. Where people we care about come to our door, step inside, stay for a moment, and share fragments of life with us. Laura and Irena have invited us in, and with this exhibition they offer us a glimpse into their own intimate spaces — and into places of interaction. Their works are conceived and created in solitude, yet without communication with others, they exist only for the artists themselves. Each of them, in her own way, shares her story of home.
Laura Rainbow presents her Birds of Happiness. Frida, Loza, Jesenka… these are not birds soaring freely in the sky, but monolithic closed forms that have landed into space to remain there. To interact, to be adopted. Each has a name, each is unique, rich in texture and gentle in colour, as if inviting us to choose a favourite. They represent the material, yet remind us how essential freedom is for human happiness. And in this home, portraits also reside. They represent all of us — people with the full palette of feelings we carry inside, the feelings we allow ourselves to experience within our own four walls.
Irena Poje Oxenham, on the other hand, invites us to a festive table — a table of abundance in the truest sense. In the play of colour and light, she offers not only a symbolic feast but a visual experience.
Laura’s birds are created using both classical and alternative techniques — raku, saggar firing, horsehair, obvara. One must know how to tame that wild, fiery flame in order to achieve such an apparently delicate bird. A bird born in fire, at nearly 1000 degrees, which we can now hold in our hands, adopt, and bring into our own home. Irena’s objects are also shaped through high temperatures, using glass fusing techniques. The process and its effects must be controlled to reveal the final piece before our eyes. Before us stand two artists, two beautiful women. But they are much more than that. They are fire-women — those who can tame the wondrous power of nature and its elements, and bring this magical exhibition before you.
Saša Martinović Kunović
Home Is Much More Than the Space We Live In
We often try to explain it through walls, furniture, or the layout of objects, but home actually exists in the invisible — in the feeling we get when we step inside, close the door, and the tension of the day quietly fades.
Home is the place where we are most ourselves.
It’s where we remove all the roles we carry outside. Where we are calmer, quieter, more honest with ourselves. It’s the space where peace returns, where we recharge, where we breathe without rushing. Sometimes it’s an entire apartment, sometimes just a small corner where we keep things we love. Sometimes it’s the scent of morning coffee, and sometimes the silence at night when everything finally becomes still.
Home is also in the people.
In those we live with, but also in those who stop by “just for a moment”, sit down, share a drink, and leave behind a trace of warmth. Home is in small conversations, in laughter, in habits repeated over years. In small rituals — how we set the table, where we place our keys, in which order we turn on the lights.
For me, home is a precious family microsphere, small but essential.
It’s the space where I feel closest to myself, where everything important fits into simple, everyday gestures. And that is why I believe home is built from things that have meaning — that bring peace, joy, or a quiet sense that everything is in its place.
Why It Matters What We Choose to Give
It’s not only about what we hand to someone, but about the message the gift carries. In shops, everything is quickly available, beautifully packaged, and ready to take. But often, when we get home, we realise it isn’t really a gift — just another object made in huge batches, identical to thousands of others.
With handmade pieces, the feeling is different.
When you give someone something that was made slowly, through a process involving hands, time, clay, fire, and human attention, you give more than an object. You give intention. You give something that had its own path — from its first shaping to the moment someone receives it.
Such gifts carry warmth that doesn’t fade after the holidays.
They become part of someone’s home, part of a daily routine, a small corner tied to memory. A gift doesn’t need to be big to be meaningful. It just needs to be sincere, to have a story, and to be chosen with care.
That’s why I believe handmade pieces, especially at this time of year, hold a special place. They are not just presents — they are small gestures of care that remain.