Monday 21 October 2013

Laying low at the Flow Gallery

A visit to Flow Gallery made me feel like I was Alice re-entering Wonderland. But this time Wonderland was different. 



It was a world which was softer in atmosphere and lighter in it's more muted colour palette. It was peaceful, in all its beautiful oddity. 


There was a wide range of mystifying objects displayed there. And upon arrival, my first encounter was with an extremely peculiar-looking teacup of a doorbell. My thoughts were already flying and I hadn't even stepped inside yet! 


The unique and evocative experience I got out of simply ringing their doorbell really impressed me and got me questioning a person's ability to interact with their surroundings through their sense of touch. Could this be something I refer back to within my jewellery designs? 

As I continued to look round, I couldn't help but notice that the front desk itself was being used as a space to display a random and dainty set of tableware. One object in particular caught my eye though. And that object was a spoon, a totally nonfunctional spoon. But it's complex and decorative craftsmanship totally and utterly captivated me. It's neatly cut out layers made it look like a 3D diorama. It was certainly a piece of cutlery fit for a theatre. 


Moving on, what I found to be somewhat refreshing and freeing  at the start of my visit, that I then found out to be slightly frustrating after, was the fact that there was no information regarding each object. Unless you asked, there was no way of knowing anything. There was no indication of who the artist was, what the object was or even what materials were used. A true and total mystery. 

However, not having any knowledge of all these things really made me focus on the object itself more. It also helped me to create and re-invent my own back story for each piece.

For example, when studying these beautiful ceramic plates (who i later found to have been made by the ceramicist Caroline Slotte) I really felt as if there was a story embedded in them that I needed to discover. 



Having later read up about Slotte's 'Gone fishing' series, I was fascinated by her reworking of second hand ceramic items and her process of erasure. Using various techniques, Slotte manages to wipe out most of the original decor  leaving only the eerie presence of a minute fishing boat, now engulfed in a large sea of white.

They were particularly poignant to witness - where seemingly everything had been forgotten about except the existence of one man and his fishing boat. 


There was something very organic about this gallery and its objects (especially this nesty little basket below).


Other works which I found to be of interest were these glass bottle top rings. I loved the way they caught the light in the gallery space. Each one refracted it in a different kind of way. They had an inner luminosity to them which reminded me of glowing halos.


I liked the way they contrasted each-other in their polished or matt finishes.

The use of the bottleneck as a piece of jewellery was what really got me though. Thinking of the individual shards of glass that once belonged to a whole was beautifully perplexing (and apparently it's meant to bring good luck!).

Somehow it reminded me of the sea and it's tide-tossed debris. 

These rings (made by Brigette Bezold) were simply charming and by noticing the use of glass as a potential material for jewellery making, I started to notice it everywhere.

The fact that the gallery wasn't just displaying jewellery was super inspirational. In fact, I found myself surprisingly more drawn to the other various materials and objects they had there than their small collection of jewellery.


Henk Wolvers and his porcelain papercuts was a whole new realm of discovery for me. His unusual take on porcelain had me believe it was rubber at first. 


The thinness of his sculptural vessels made me think of newspapers for some reason. 


I liked how he borrowed the tracery (if not the actual patterns) of lace to explore light. 


Debbie Smyth's threaded drawings had me at hello. The stretched network of threads contained so much energy and spontaneity, I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I like how she blurs the boundaries of textiles and fine art here. It was also nice to see and read some text. 



As I tiptoed round for a final tour, I noticed that the many windows of the gallery left the space flooded in such a beautiful and natural light. And because of this, I could really take in the many sights and sounds whether they were from the outside or in. 


Ultimately, a trip to Flow Gallery in Notting Hill was just what I needed after a hectic week at uni.  It's whimsical and calm vibe proved to be contagious, leaving me in a total state of tranquility and coolness (a feeling that is quite foreign to me might I just add!)


Monday 14 October 2013

Goldsmiths' Fair - Jewellery and Silverware 2013

The Goldsmiths’ jewellery fair was (shamefully) something I had only recently heard of.


As it was the second week of their annual showing, I thought it would probably be a wise idea if I went to check it out (especially since it was so highly recommended by my tutor). 



The Goldsmiths' Hall as a setting was simply magical. Walking into the expansive space with high ceilings, ostentatious decor and buffed up bouquets had my eyes darting in all directions. I felt like a child visiting FAO Schwarz for the first time.

On my way back from the cloakroom, I started talking to one of the designers there. His name was Martin Keane. His works were not jewellery specific as such, but I liked the refreshing possibilities his objects had, to be jewellery. His fluid and organic forms that are fabricated into unusual tableware were fascinating. I liked the certain 'edge' and peculiarity he had to his work. For one, his cuffling-like silver beakers were tipped off onto their sides, almost defying all laws of gravity. He was super friendly and so interested in what I was doing within my jewellery studies. He even suggested that a collaboration was in order! 

Already I could tell that this place was very much a networking thing. But what was also nice, was that I could really feel a sense of companionship floating around in the room. Not only were designers exposed to a new audience (such as people like me!) but they were also reunited with former, familiar faces. It was so lovely to witness the support and excitement of old clients. You can tell that people look forward to coming back each year. 

After a good tour of the bottom floor, I decided to walk up the (somewhat intimidating) grand staircase - gosh I felt like royalty in all it's ornateness! 

Sanni Falkenberg was another friendly designer who didn't mind having a quick chat with me. She was also new to the whole Goldsmith's fair and it was so uplifting to talk to a young girl who was similarly trying to get big in the jewellery world. 

I was stunned by her chunky statement rings. I felt totally in my element here. One piece in particular left me speechless. It was a black agate stone ring - super in size and shape....Oh just take my money! (Or maybe not...seeing as it was £3,000)

Sanni kindly let me try it on and I sneakily took a picture so I could dream of it daily. It was like having a glittering galaxy or a large, lustrous cavity on your finger. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. Whilst admiring her pieces, Sanni talked passionately about her process to me, explaining how she prefers to cut the stone open with no background knowledge of what might become of it. She enjoys the discovery aspect of what might be hiding within the stone and sometimes she is even able to find an amazing feature and treasure inside each one. I really admire her uncontrolled approach here.

Furthermore, I also love how her work fitted in neither the contemporary pigeon hole nor the fine jewellery bunch. It was a milky way of a mystery. 


Unfortunately, no photos were allowed, but here are some I've found from the internet to give you all a little bit more of an insight into what I just saw and experienced...


The charming two-way interaction I had with Sanni and other designers definitely made the whole experience a more enlightening and educational one. There was also a nice personal touch to it which I can only imagine to be quite vital to the whole buying process.


As I continued my journey throughout the hall, I spotted some more amazing rings that just demanded my attention. It was the works of Maud Traon. 

Hmm…how can I describe them to you? 

Well, I guess if you put all my childhood crafts into a blender (let’s say a bit of glitter, a pinch of play-doh, several my little ponies and some starry sequins to top it all off) and then poured the solution into a mold for setting rings, you would then have the pieces from Maud Traon.



Her strikingly black and spiky ‘Ferrero Rocher’ ring made from gold, onyx, glitter and rough diamonds, looked almost good enough to eat (but I didn’t so don’t worry!)

It also reminded me of huge claws or lion paws...


Sadly, I didn't have the chance to speak to Maud, but I did manage to read up about her in the Goldsmith's catalogue. I found out that her inspiration comes from apocalyptic landscapes and natural disasters. Her imaginative and explosive mix of colour as well as unpredictable form certainly reflects this. At one point, I was actually worried that her rings might start erupting, spraying out a confetti of molten lava...

What particularly stood out for me though, was how Maud wasn't scared to be different. Her works are daring, bold and brilliant. They are playful, yet sophisticated. All I wanted to do was dive into her colorful works of art, and never surface. They were extraordinary. Her work is pure proof that the creation of jewellery is most and truly an art form. 

In contrast to the chaotic works of Maud Traon, were the more minimalist pieces of Ute Decker. It’s funny how I’m attracted to pieces that can be at total opposite ends of the jewellery spectrum. Where Maud’s rings screamed loudness to me, Ute Decker's jewellery whispered such a beautiful silence. 


-    The so-called ‘architectural jeweller’ combines dynamic forms and clean lines with gorgeous surface texture to create one-of-a-kind sculptural jewellery pieces. 


Ute Decker once said in an interview that her works are not literal re-interpretations of actual buildings but rather major pieces of “jewellery that can be inhabited". I love this thought. It reminded me of some friends of mine who incessantly nest in the same piece of jewellery all year round. They are like little hibernating jewellery squirrels. 

By the end of my visit I was left hugely inspired, excited and motivated. I was stunned by the friendliness of some designers and also by their many manipulations of materials as well as their constant strive and drive to create something new.

Overall, Goldsmiths' jewellery and silverware fair was like an exciting treasure hunt, full of gems, thoughts and delight, I will definitely be returning next year...

See you there? 

Sunday 13 October 2013

Rainy days and a love for Lesley Craze

As part of my ‘exhibition project’ and what I like to call my ‘gap filler Fridays’, I went to visit the gorgeous and inspiring Lesley Craze Gallery just off Clerkenwell road in Farringdon. 


As soon as I entered the gallery which was cheekily tucked away in a blanket of cagey scaffolding, I was suddenly soaked up in a large cabinet of curiosities.
Looking around, I was surrounded by a unique collection of the latest contemporary jewellery, metalwork, and silversmithing. Yum - that is just what the doctor ordered, forget about apples.

I was teased by translucency, frazzled by folds and seduced by somewhat sculpture.  

The first thing that caught my eye was the works of Jeremy May. I loved how he used jewellery to memorialize the beauty of words. His unique laminating process of paper was also captivating, but the re-inserting of his jewellery works into their excavated space is what really got me. Using the originating book as display and storage is just pure genius!



Jo Hayes-ward was another designer that tickled my fancy. Her cubist-style pieces looked like little wearable pixel worlds. 



The dewy droplets of Craig Macauley's work were also simple but effective. Apparently the designer used nylon threads and dropped resin down them until they solidified. They reminded me of slight sparks and fireworks.



As I walked around, I could already really appreciate the unique hand on display. It made me realize how truly talented and great people can be in this world. Individuality is so important, so rich and so palpable (evident especially in this venue). 

Korean artist and designer Min-Ji Cho had my heart a flutter with her stripped rubber-glove neck pieces. They were very light in weight and oh so wearable.


Michelle Griffiths' jewellery looked like white-spiked flowers or dreamy seas urchins. They were in fact made from silk and toothpicks. 



At this point, my mind was in a buzz. The avant-garde pieces, the unheard-of techniques and the wide range of materials used here were just incredible to witness. 

Nylon, concrete, titanium, rubber gloves, putty, leather...I am now convinced that there is nothing you cannot use to make jewellery.


I ended my gallery tour (accompanied by the wonderfully soft background noise of drifting rain) on Polly Horwich's spindles of colour and form. 


As a jewellery student I found it reassuring and inspiring to see a place like this still open. 

It made me so happy to see a gallery encourage it's clients to be just as experimental and bold as it's featuring designers. I dream of the day when people decide to become more daring and less scared of trying something new. Why can’t we all be less afraid of being different and wear more creative and expressive pieces like these?  It floors me... 

Ultimately, despite walking the streets of London in all its rainy wonders on a Friday afternoon, an outing like stepping inside the friendly atmosphere of the Lesley Craze Gallery proved to be just what I needed… a quick, warming arty fix and one way to keep my make-up weather proof!

I truly and hugely recommend taking a peak for yourselves...

Monday 7 October 2013

Little pearls of wisdom

I have eagerly been waiting all summer long for the Victoria and Albert Museum to open their ‘Pearl’ exhibition and...today was the day.
As I entered the first room, I was immediately engulfed by a huge maze of black space. It felt like I was about to descend into the deep dark depths of the ocean. Oh – how appropriate! The scent of wealth hung in the air like a pendant of gold and (like a child) I could barely focus on the huge cloud of cabinets set out before me.  
Sliding past the opening painting which kindly greeted me at the doors, I couldn't help but dart straight over towards the first collection of magically glowing orbs.

As I stared at them (for probably a very inappropriate amount of time) I couldn't help but overhear a couple of charming, couture-clad ladies (who were sporting their own little iridescent gobstoppers by the way) gasping and gossiping directly in front of me.They seemed to be in awe of something and I was eager to find out what all the commotion was about. 

I decided to walk over in all my wonder and curiosity. I began to scan over what the two women had just read on the huge mounted wall of writing and suddenly, it hit me. 

A huge secret had just been revealed to them...and now to me too.


Ever since I was little, I had always been told that a pearl was formed by a small grain of sand that had entered the oyster's shell - oh how wrong my sources were...

After believing this so-called 'myth' for the past twenty years of my life, I can now say that I know the full truth behind how these little sea treasures are formed...and ironically, it is not so glamorous. 

It turns out that our precious pearly whites are actually formed by parasites. 

Really?! 

I glanced back over at what I thought to be the most dazzling and jaw-dropping collection of them all, only to realize that now, I was in fact looking into a dark park of dead parasite cocoons. 

But, this was actually a truly amazing revelation. It made me realize that among all the gems that mankind hungers for, the pearl is absolutely unique. It is the only gemstone that forms entirely within a living being. They really are the oddest but most interesting of things. Nature constantly amazes me.

A favorite of mine at the exhibition had to be the pearl necklace belonging to Marilyn Monroe which was said to have 'reminded her of happier times'. I also liked the modest pearl earring worn by King Charles I at his execution - I loved how such an intimate object was worn at such a controversial event in history. 


Another piece that caught my eye was the great 'pearl of Asia' - one of the largest natural pearls in the world (about the size of a walnut). Truly breathtaking.


In addition to this, I was also impressed and taken aback by the large buckets filled with countless amounts of soapy-colored pearls. A really amazing piece, symbolizing the dangers that the pearl market might face in the future of over-production. 


Upon leaving the exhibition, I had one last thought about pearls within my discipline area, jewellery. 

And the V&A has ultimately taught me that pearls within jewellery have no limits. 

Nicola Malkin's incredible giant pearl stud earrings and double stranded giant pearl necklace that we are confronted with at the finale of the exhibition certainly confirms this. She is pure proof that pearls continue to inspire jewelers in exciting new ways and judging by the size and scale of this exhibition, that is more than likely to continue.