Meret Oppenheim covered a teacup in fur, rendering it beautiful and completely undrinkable. Surrealism, as a rule, delighted in objects that failed at their own jobs. Carl Auböck II, working in Vienna, took the opposite bet: a brass paperweight shaped like a human hand, a skeleton key that unscrews to reveal a hidden corkscrew, objects that look like they escaped from someone's subconscious but still, stubbornly, do the thing they're for. Surrealism with a day job.
The sensible surrealism of Carl Auböck
Salvador Dalí made a telephone shaped like a lobster, a joke about desire that nobody could actually use to order a taxi.
That's more or less the argument the MAK Museum made in 2024, giving the workshop its first proper retrospective and filing the work under Surrealism rather than the usual midcentury-modernism paperwork. Fair enough, and also a little on the nose for a designer trained at the Bauhaus, that great cathedral of function-justifies-everything, who then went home to the city that gave the world psychoanalysis and decided objects, like people, were allowed to have something going on underneath. A chain that isn't securing anything. A bookend that looks unearthed rather than designed.
What separates Auböck from his Surrealist contemporaries is precisely that his objects kept working. MoMA started collecting his cocktail shakers and ashtrays in the 1950s, filing brass barware alongside fine art without much apparent hesitation.
Carl Auböck II died in 1957, but the workshop his family founded a century earlier never stopped. It passed to his son, then eventually to his great-grandson, Carl Auböck IV, who runs it today alongside his daughter Zola and his sister Maria, still out of the original Vienna townhouse, still hand-producing roughly 450 objects from the classic collection.
Just the same slightly uncanny brass, made the same slow way, by a family that's spent four generations agreeing the strangest ideas are usually the ones worth keeping.