The rising sun is the most universally understood symbol of new beginnings. From the horizon, slowly, with intention: the first light of morning carries no ambiguity. It is warmth, forward movement, the energy of something that has been gathering its strength finally released. Heinrich Wang made a vase of it — and placed it on the table, where it continues to rise, every day, in whatever room it occupies.
The apertures are a creative invitation, not a fixed arrangement. The openings on Dawn Rising vary in size and height across the surface of the piece — larger apertures for main stems, smaller ones for fine branches and dried material, the top opening for the anchor of the arrangement. There is no single correct way to use this vase. Every combination of flowers and openings produces a different composition, and the same vase will look entirely different from one arrangement to the next.
Light passing through the openings is the piece's second language. When no flowers are present, Dawn Rising becomes a light installation. Morning sunlight through the apertures casts circles on the table surface; evening lamplight from the side throws points of light on the wall behind it. The piece reads differently at different times of day — which is, of course, the nature of a dawn.