JEWELLERY AS WEARABLE PAST
By Ella Mackenzie
“It doesn’t matter that the finds are common, or that they are damaged, because it it the stories which they house, alongside the mightily talented hand that has worked them, which sanctions them for cherishment.”
and dead objects would acquire souls © Romilly Saumarez Smit
For centuries, people have been utilising found objects by incorporating them into pieces of jewellery. It might be a shell or shark tooth necklace, medieval remounting of classical intaglios, or perhaps Gemme Numari. Indeed, we live in an era of recycling, where everyone is becoming increasingly aware of over-consumption, however the idea that something old can be repurposed as a beautiful adornment for the body is nothing new. Nonetheless, the draw to objects which are unconventionally worthless or initially unsightly is certainly a modern take.
Whilst attending the annual Goldsmith’s Fair earlier this year (the yearly glittering introduction to the best in jewellery and contemporary silversmithing from around the UK) I was both delighted and intrigued to find a handful of jewellery artists using such found objects in their exquisite designs. These three women, who I wish to introduce here, had sourced their treasures from pursuits including metal-detecting, beachcombing, mudlarking and relentless raking of resale sites such as eBay.
Working as a Specialist in the Coin Department at Spink has introduced me to these pastimes, and I often get to meet those who have found something special. That might be because of the precious metals it is made from, the intricate skill used by the craftsman who made it, or simply because of its rarity. Either way, the items I tend to work with when cataloguing or valuing are in my hands because they are commercially viable from the moment they are discovered.
The finds sitting on glass cabinets under the grand ceiling of the Goldsmith’s Hall were far from this. They were the kind of objects that many would simply toss to the side, without more than a moment’s consideration. Rather than garnets from the Thames, hammered gold coins or intricate seal matrices, these were items of domesticity, manufacture and, that most famous of phrases – the ‘everyday’.
Nail. Thimbles. Tins. Buckles. Pin. Buttons. Fastenings.
The author Heather Skowood wrote in 2011 that it is “the complex ideas and emotions that inform our acts of self-expression [that] are the very things that form our impressions of material objects. This gives a jewellery artist an enormous amount of emotional and physical material to consider when selecting objects.” I think that quote sums up the freedom that these jewellers have chosen to take an active part in. It doesn’t matter that the finds are common, or that they are damaged, because it is the stories which they house, alongside the mightily talented hand that has worked them, which sanctions them for cherishment.
The pursuit of the finds in these cases is not typical treasure hunting, but rather an act of remembrance. This fact, paired with the sentimental power of jewellery, and its personal and intimate nature, is what makes these pieces stand out amongst the rest.
Liz Willis Jewellery
Liz Willis is a jeweller based in Hertfordshire, whose work marries modern worked silver, together with found objects, using hand stitched coloured silk threads. She is drawn to handmade objects that display the scars of their previous life: rust, verdigris and incompleteness. Willis notes that these small pieces of discarded metal “are worked on by [her] hands to give them a new chapter, raising their status again and making them little pieces of wearable history.”
Having sourced them herself, via beachcombing, mudlarking and metal-detecting, her jewellery promotes a sense of careful curation. Please don’t mistake my remark for the love of an unconventional find as a sense that ‘any old thing will do’. Willis’ jewellery has clearly been intensely thought through, as she both works with what she has, and choses objects that are interesting from a form or colour perspective.
The way Liz blends the old and the new together in her pieces, by sewing delicate threads of colours matching the decaying metal, creates a strong bind. Aesthetically pleasing of course, but also a reminder of the domestic nature of the objects used. Pins and buckles clearly relating to needlecraft and clothing. Albeit manmade, the finds appear as a liminal state between manufactured and natural, as they have been found part way through the decay process. The jewellery becomes grounded in its chemistry, and also in the manner in which the parts were found.#
© Lottie Keating for Liz Willis Jewellery © Lottie Keating for Liz Willis Jewellery
Jo Pond
Jo Pond describes herself as having come from a family with a “genetic necessity for hoarding” which “fashioned the beginnings of a lifetime of habitual collecting”. Once again, she is drawn to typically unconventional and unwanted objects, whilst also fuelled by “an aesthetic appreciation of the details of decomposition and change.” Her jewellery is charming and, in some cases, bewildering and/or humorous. A lack of perfection in these finds allows Pond to be able to explore ideas that can be uncomfortable or affronting.
To illustrate, one of her collections entitled ‘Barren. Cartharsis for consolation’ explores the ‘emotional and psychological associations of what fertility means to those who are not’. She uses a repurposed watering can rose in necklaces and brooches, in order to spark the concept of nurture. As Pond writes in her introduction to the pieces: “Many of us are not […] capable of initiating, sustaining, or supporting reproduction; instead we are labelled as unproductive […] we live discontent […] bearing an undisclosed ache.”
The found objects are imbued with a beautiful rich patina, and have clearly spent a lifetime nurturing plants. What I think is particularly inspired here, is Pond’s use of the gold beads in a handful of the holes, which she says, hint at ‘the possibilities of bloom’. There is a sadness in these pieces, but there is also gleaming hope, and a sense that one is not alone. A familiar object with a past, that has so clearly been well used, suggests that these troubles have been experienced for generations, and yet good has come about. The symbols in this collection are achingly bittersweet, and I think so much of that can be attributed to the sensitive use of the found object, rather than a new element.
“In such ways, these manmade pieces almost become a type of jewel, a substance whose exact history and make-up cannot ever be simulated more than once”
Every found object is unique, and therefore every piece of jewellery will be thus. In such ways, these manmade pieces almost become a type of jewel, a substance whose exact history and makeup cannot ever be simulated more than once. Pond highlights this fact in her Thimble pins, each individual with its own backstory. Once again, as in Liz Willis’ work, the objects are of a domestic realm.
Romilly Saumarez Smith
The third and final jeweller I wish to discuss is Romilly Saumarez Smith. On approaching her stand at The Goldsmiths’ Fair, I was presented with a leaflet from her latest exhibition: And dead objects would acquire souls, which ran over two days in July of this year. Despite not being a metal-detectorist or beachcomber herself, almost every found object that Romilly uses in her jewellery is bought from eBay, a method which she characterises as “one of the dark arts often leading to addiction.” It was fascinating to learn about how she goes about the decision making process, for which objects would work for her jewellery, relating to the curation aspect of this method I referred earlier.
The influence of the ground and under the sea is clearly visible in her work. The metal is built up like barnacles encrusting the surface of a rock; evidence of years gone past. She champions unexpected patina and says, “I am always aware of the organic nature of what we do, applauding the natural world that constantly does it better.” This exhibition included many examples of elevated thimbles, pins and buckles. Romilly muses on thimbles specifically, in this exhibition, and references the fact that small children, mostly girls, would have been using a needle and thread from a very young age in the past. The various compositions of metals in these thimbles means they have each taken on a different colouring, having been subject to harsh elements since their original loss. Smith steers clear of finds that have been cleaned too much.
“I believe that the way these three jewellers have utilised the found object, creates a platform for the discovery of something far deeper”
© Romilly Saumarez Smith
The awareness and adoration of the natural world and the hidden spaces within its humble crevasses are ever more striking in jewellery such as Romilly’s. So much of that has to do with the nature of the found objects used. Drawing attention to an artificial item, and celebrating the beauty of nature’s touch upon it, makes Mother Nature appear ever more powerful.
At the risk of sounding too poetic, or stretching a metaphor beyond its means, I believe that the way these three jewellers have utilised the found object creates a platform for the discovery of something far deeper. There is humour, nostalgia, wonder, sadness, the female experience, and the recognition of imperfection. These jewels bring with them not only beauty, but poignancy and a story – that which is arguably more valuable than any polished or cut gemstone.
Liz Willis Jewellery
www.lizwillisjewellery.co.uk
@lizwillisjewellery
Jo Pond Jewellery
www.jopond.com
@jo_pond
Romilly Saumarez Smith
www.romillysaumarezsmith.com
@romillysaumarezsmith2
By Ella Mackenzie