07.05.2026

Vessels in Stillness and Motion

Journal Talks connected with Danish glassblower Alexander Kirkeby on intuition and glass's emotional temperament.

In his Aarhus workshop, established in 2022, Alexander Kirkeby translates centuries of craftsmanship into contemporary forms that shimmer between movement and stillness. Here, he reflects on the dialogue between hand and material, tradition, and the poetic tension of glasswork.

What first drew you to working with glass? Was there a specific moment or person that set you on this path?

I wasn't naturally drawn to glass at first, but a series of coincidences led me to a workshop where my teacher, Anja Kjær, awakened a genuine curiosity in me. Over time, that curiosity deepened, and Anja became a pivotal figure during my earliest years of working with glass.

If glass had a temperament rather than a form, how would you describe the mood you're most drawn to?

Glass is a stubborn yet spontaneous material. It resists full control but reacts instantly. The tension between those opposing traits continues to challenge, inspire, and motivate my work.

Your pieces often appear caught mid-gesture, melting, pouring, collapsing, freezing, and you make it feel fluid. What draws you to this contrast of movement and suspension?

When working with glass, I'm constantly searching for an intuitive balance between mastering a craft and allowing the material to lead. That interplay creates a space where movement seems to emerge, even as the glass solidifies. It's a fleeting, almost performative moment turned permanent.

You're inspired by 18th-century Italian masters, and your forms feel both mythic or medieval. What is it about the past that continues to speak to you so strongly?

Working within a centuries-old tradition means drawing from what artisans and masters before us began, refined, and in some cases perfected. As a craftsman, I feel an obligation to interpret and carry these traditions forward. At the same time, I'm driven to reintroduce ornamentation and decoration into the objects that quietly inhabit our daily lives.

Is there a moment in the glassblowing process when you feel you're no longer fully in control?

With every gather of fresh glass, control slips, sometimes briefly, sometimes entirely. I've learned to give into that loss, sometimes working with it, sometimes against it.

If one of your objects could be experienced only through touch, eyes closed, what would you hope the hands would understand?

I would hope that it feels distinctly handmade, that care, attention, and intention are tangible. The surface should reveal traces of tools and gestures, making the uniqueness of each piece unmistakable.

You established your workshop in Aarhus in 2022. How has having a fixed place changed the way you listen to and work with the material?

Having my own studio has brought continuity to my practice. It's allowed me to refine my skills as a glassblower and designer and to work with deeper focus and ambition. It also enables me to serve an international audience through both my Glassware Collection and bespoke works.

In your collaboration with Björk and Berries, glass becomes both a vessel for scent and a ritual object. Did working with a fragrance house change how you approached form or process?

Designing with functional requirements introduces limitations, but those constraints often lead to unexpected ideas. I've come to welcome the creative challenges that come with collaboration.

Björk and Berries draw inspiration from Nordic nature and mythology. Did this resonate with existing themes in your work, or push you into new territory?

We explored the transition between winter and spring as a central theme. I wanted to translate that feeling of seasonal shift into the bottle's texture and expression, a tactile echo of change.

What has glass taught you about time and ephemerality?

Glass has taught me to trust my intuition and be present. The process demands attention and instinct, a kind of dialogue that unfolds moment by moment.

And finally, if glass had a scent, what would it be?

To me, glass has no scent, which is precisely why it's such a perfect vessel for one.