“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote in his 1943 novella The Little Prince, a sentiment that drives Rui Sasaki’s work. From what the artist (previously) describes as a “mysterious and ambiguous material,” botanicals appear to float in frozen cubes of water.

Sasaki employs glass to document and preserve the nature of the present. Works like “Subtle Intimacy” respond to places and experiences where she feels present. “It is vital for me to connect who I am and where I am, especially when I am in unfamiliar spaces,” the artist tells Colossal. She likens intimacy to nostalgia, exploring the depth of feeling associated with memories, comfort, and security.

Sasaki traces her fascination with the medium to childhood, specifically to its visual similarities to the surfaces of ponds or lakes. “I was always wondering how I could make something out of water,” she says. “When I saw molten glass at a glassblowing studio during a summer family trip in Okinawa, I fell in love with it.”

When Sasaki moved to the U.S. from Japan in 2007, she began incorporating plants into her work as a way to “recover my senses from my loss of intimacy and home in my mother country,” she says. When she returned to Japan five years later, she continued to hone her focus on botanicals.

Enchanted by how plants can express experiences of her surroundings, Sasaki portrays individual botanicals in sculptures ranging in size from a few feet wide to room-size installations. She says:

Collecting plants is the most important aspect of the work. I use all my five senses in gathering plants. That helps me to recall my past memories, especially in my childhood, and to connect my feelings of intimacy towards my country, Japan.

Sasaki places collected specimens between two sheets of glass and fires the piece in a kiln. The plant turns to white ash, leaving the impression of petals, leaves, and veins. Air bubbles that naturally emerge in the heat are also preserved in what the artist likes to a time capsule. The original form of the plant no longer exists but its impression endures.

Dualities like presence and absence, fragility and strength, and transparency and opacity merge with Sasaki’s interest in “befriending” glass while reveling in the knowledge that she will never fully comprehend everything about it.

If you’re in Denmark, you can see Sasaki’s sculptures at Glas from March 22 to September 28 in Ebeltoft. Her work will also be on view later this year at the Aichi Triennale 2025. Explore more on the artist’s website, and follow Instagram for updates.