Light Assemblages
Where light pauses, memories gather, and beauty lingers.
Original works created from reclaimed architectural elements and carefully curated vintage pressed glass that invite viewers to discover familiar objects, changing light, and the stories they continue to tell.
"My work is not about giving old objects a new purpose. It's about giving old memories a new place to live."
--Suzette Hittner
A closer look
At first glance, these assemblages are compositions of light, texture, and vintage pressed glass.
I invite you to look a little closer.
Many people are surprised to discover that the individual glass elements remain exactly what they have always been—butter pats, salt cellars, serving dishes, coasters, and pressed glass that once graced everyday tables. Whenever possible, I encourage viewers to turn a piece over and explore the back. It is often in that moment that someone recognizes a familiar pattern and says, "My grandmother had one just like that."
Those moments of recognition are among the most meaningful parts of my work. They remind us that beautiful objects don't simply survive the passage of time—they continue to connect us with the people, places, and memories that shaped our lives.
Meet Suzette
I've always been drawn to objects that carry a history—the craftsmanship of vintage pressed glass, the character of an old window, and the imperfections that reveal a life already lived.
My journey with architectural light assemblage began in October 2023 with a simple question: what might happen if I brought vintage glass, reclaimed architecture, and natural light together? What began as an experiment quickly became a new way of seeing familiar objects and the stories they carry.
The hunt remains one of my favorite parts of the process. I wander thrift stores and estate sales, never knowing when an unusual salt cellar, butter pat, serving dish, or piece of pressed glass will catch my eye. Reclaimed windows, mirrors, trays, and frames bring histories of their own. I preserve that character while restoring what is needed to prepare them for another chapter.
In the studio, I arrange and rearrange the glass until the composition feels right. I don't reshape or disguise the objects. A salt cellar remains a salt cellar. A butter pat remains a butter pat. I simply bring familiar pieces into a new relationship with one another and with light.
But one of the most meaningful parts of my work happens after an assemblage is finished. When people see my work in person, I encourage them to turn it over and touch the glass. What appeared from the front as pattern and texture suddenly becomes recognizable—perhaps something remembered from a mother's table or a grandmother's cupboard.
And then the stories begin.
Those moments remind me that my work is about more than glass and reclaimed architecture. It's about the connections familiar objects hold between people, places, and generations. Light draws us closer; recognition makes it personal.
My work is not about giving old objects a new purpose. It's about giving old memories a new place to live.