
Have you ever found yourself thinking of something as kitsch (yep, pronounced like you know it in the English language)? It’s a Germanism, and – let’s face it! – it’s a very subjective term. Nobody really knows whence it came; there are assumptions that it first came up in the 1870s in the German art world. It then described mediocre art with a cheap image that is offered at a way too expensive price. Today, I’d say that kitsch defines anything that is something overly cherished with the flair of the cheap, tasteless, and useless. In Yiddish, there is apparently the term verkitschen, which means to sell somebody something they don’t need (thank you, Wikipedia, for this fun one!). On another level, kitsch often is mass produced and, therefore, worthless. Now, rethink what you find in souvenir stores, for example!
I remember that, as a kid, I loved Hummel figurines. I’d say, for a child, there is that definite relatability, of course. As a children’s book with traditional illustrations, Hummel figurines were the perfect sculptures for kids. Only that at their pricing, not any reasonable grown-up would put one such into children’s hands. As a grown-up, my taste in art has certainly changed a lot. To me these figurines are the fondant of sculpting, today; too sweet, too nostalgic, dust catchers at that. But hey, that’s just me. Somebody else will judge them totally differently.

I also remember that at one point in the 1970s, I was ready to save up my entire pocket money for one of these color-changing fiberglass lamps that looked like a huge ball of fine strings. Remember those? My mother discarded the object as “kitsch”. So, the only way for me to enjoy one was on trips to furniture stores for really fancy (and useful, lasting) home accessories; my mother could simply drop me at the lamp department, and I’d sit and watch. Today, I’m still fascinated by these lamps, i.e. by the technology that wreaks such “magic.” I wouldn’t want one anymore – my mother was right to have me save up for something else.
I guess, we call a lot of that which appeals to children kitsch. And if it appeals to us adults, it might really be the inner child of ours that it appeals to. That box with iridescent inlay. That painting of a child with a tear running down its face. The cup and saucer collection that shows different motives of a series and never gets used (and which no pawn shop will want to have either). It can be the crystal chandelier and the gilded baroque furniture in a modern fifth floor apartment with low ceilings.

The term kitsch in itself is a derogative. But is kitsch anything wrong? Does it damage anybody? Is it to be condemned?
As long as an object, a song, a movie makes us happy, does it matter how much it is dripping with sweetness? If you (or, for that matter I) want to eat a slice of cake with extra-icing, why should anybody keep us from it – unless it harms us? Just because somebody else says it’s cheap and worthless doesn’t mean that it doesn’t speak to our inner child. And as long as it makes this inner child happy and gives them this cozy, comfy feeling, the adult person is in a happy place, too. So, here’s to whatever our tastes are. Our sentimental attachments are what make us individuals.
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