REVIEWS

Seeing Estonia through Cult Jewellery: Reflections of the exhibition, Estonishing ! 13° from Estonia

To highlight the opening of Estonishing ! 13° in Tallinn that happened on the 16th of November 2016, I’m posting this text I wrote originally for SIRP magazine that was translated into Estonian. Here it is in english for the first time. The original debut of this exhibition took place at SCHMUCK 2016 in the Handwerksmesse in Munich, Germany, 24.02 – 01.03.2016

text by Kellie Riggs

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The Contemporary Jewellery community is not big, but it is unique. It remains to hover somewhere above other, similar creative fields like fashion, design, art and craft. Never quite assimilating, it is instead a combination of the four, taking the best aspects from each of these groups back to its own special atmosphere and turning it into something amazing. The field, its artists and community all can feel like a well-kept secret hidden in plain sight. But in fact, it spans every continent on the globe, found tucked in pockets and hubs rich with cultural relevance and a collective will to express and adorn.

It is one week a year in Munich, Germany that contemporary jewellery’s modesty steps aside and the field (both cultural and academic) is able to come together as one global community acting as a fortified front. It shows the best of itself in broad daylight. Its members flock from every corner of the world, becoming pilgrims. And the jewellery on display itself become relics, housed in specially created spaces that only Munich Jewellery Week can inspire and cultivate. It is all rather cult, as its followers – students, artists, enthusiasts, and collectors alike – have a specific kind of admiration and devotion that can be felt buzzing on the streets of Munich from exhibition to exhibition.

Over the course of the last ten years, Munich Jewellery Week (as it has only recently been known to be called, coinciding with the SCHMUCK event) has grown exponentially. Starting with around ten collateral exhibitions throughout the city in 2006, MJW 2016 boasted over seventy. Whether they are academic classes or artist-run collectives, many diverse international jewellery groups come to show what they do via independent or gallery represented exhibitions. And when done right, they are able to demonstrate particular cultural tendencies in jewellery at large, and illustrate more sensitive cultural perspectives through the particular expressiveness that jewellery provides. Good Contemporary Jewellery is always a lens through which to look into the subtleties of other cultures, national or local, big or small. It is an irreplaceable means to understand how different cultures or subcultures feel about certain elusive subjects – many of which are quite intimate – as jewellery is a relatively intimate affair to begin with.

So what does it mean for jewellery to be from a certain place? From Estonia? What kind of illustration does the world have of this country through the jewellery that comes out of it? I myself can only speak to an outsider’s perspective and reflect on the impression that’s been made in places like Munich where Estonian artists have been able to show face together against the backdrop of a contrasting cultural framework. In one way or another they act as a collective ambassador, providing one of the few and probably most profound windows through which one can catch a glimpse of this fascinating (and largely mysterious) land. In all actuality, Estonia and Estonian Contemporary Jewellery remain the subject of intrigue in the international Contemporary Jewellery community; there seems to be a special kind of force field that surrounds it, one that recalls magic and evokes a curious kind of arousal.

This year in Munich, Estonian jewellery artists could be found in many places. The work of Nils Hint, more blacksmith than jeweler, was included in one of the highest quality international exhibitions in the city, (IM)PRINT. Three of the more internationally prolific artists were selected for the prestigious juried SCHMUCK exhibition that takes place every year in the Handwerksmesse Exhibition Hall: Kadri Mälk, Tanel Veenre, and Linda Al-Assi. And Darja Popolitova, who just recently graduated from the Estonian Academy of Arts, was selected for the congruent TALENTE exhibition. But somewhere within the maze of uninspired booths of international jewellery galleries that surrounded these shows, the real gem could be found: the exhibition, “ESTONISHING !”, presented by Thomas Cohn Gallery, co-curated by the gallerist himself, and artist, Tanel Veenre. The magnetism of the work of this group of Estonian artists was so strong that it could be felt in São Paulo, Brazil (where Mr. Cohn is located), and convincing enough to come together for exhibition in Munich. As far as I know, it was also Mr. Cohn’s first year presenting the gallery at the Handwerksmesse, which is a big deal.

That right there is magic. Some kind of supernatural connection brought these seemingly disparate people together. And speaking of connection, what is it that connects these thirteen Estonian artists to one another? I find this question to be often reoccurring, as there is some kind of pull, something very grounded, something only sensed but invisible, that ties Estonian work together in a way that is so unique, it is simply not found in other Contemporary Jewellry circles in other countries. They appear spiritually united, and at this point in the history of Contemporary Jewellery, this is now universally recognized. But how?

This very question of connection was precisely what Veenre sought to examine when organizing the exhibition. He asked: Is it patience, an endeavour for holiness, assurance, or hope that connects us? Is is melancholy? These questions are perhaps not meant to be solved, rendering a smart and lyrical way to ask the viewer to really look into the jewellery on display and investigate their vulnerability and universality.

This is an intriguing question, and quite a responsible line of inquiry considering whom it’s coming from. Throughout the years, Veenre has not only unofficially been the spokesperson for Estonian Jewellery as a whole by giving a face and a voice to this special sect of the jewellery field to international eyes and ears – but he is also one of the few brave artists in general leading the way for change and new relevancy for the field of Contemporary Jewellery as a whole, by more closely associating it to other art and cultural genres. And as such, the Estonian team has followed with a reputation of taking itself seriously (having high quality exhibitions, publications, and have created a solid identity) while working with and enjoying a special sense of fantasy, mysticism and poetry that is always captivating and uniquely their own.

Some of the more intriguing and relevant work included in ESTONISHING ! came from Nils Hint, a younger face in the field that is getting noticed on an international level more and more steadily for his flattened iron work. He takes ready-made tools like wrenches from the scrap yard to join and then flatten using a power hammer and other blacksmithing techniques. The more striking pieces in this exhibition however were those more three-dimensional, utilizing iron elements as means to draw. Purposefully phallic or cross-like objects (like his Mahine1 (Manful) brooch, forged iron, 2015) were created to imply a “childish or primitive kind of street art, like dicks drawn on the wall,” says the artist.

Alternatively, Ketli Tiitsar and her Teine Olemus (Second Nature) brooches and necklace, made from ash wood, silver, pigment (2016) added a more internal sensibility to the show. The pieces, visually delicate and alive speak about Tiitsar’s personal memory utilizing materials from places that she knows, in an intimate manner of speaking. The wood recalls her family’s tradition of cutting firewood to heat their home, and in a sense she carries on with that repetitive tradition through her practice while paying respect to it at the same time. They are also very hip and modern pieces which is an excellent juxtaposition to the sentimentality involved.

Maarja Niinemägi’s simple and elegant engraved stone brooches, Ööparved (Night Floats), are also noteworthy for their pure and natural qualities. Essentially collages made from milky opal, buffalo horn, mother of pearl, silver and gold (2013), they are made to inspire a sense of grouping and collective metaphorical floating.

Although just three examples here, from the outside, it looks as though it must also be nature that connects most of these Estonian jewellery artists. What runs true and deep in someone sometimes goes personally unnoticed or unsaid because it is so much a part of them; their bond to nature didn’t need to be verbalized to be felt.

And what about the connection made by their fearless leader, Kadri Mälk? Veenre poses this question as well, as all the artists are alumni of the Estonian Academy of Arts from the jewellery and Blacksmithing department, twelve of the thirteen being Mälk’s former students. The veneration of this woman, who has been a professor at EAA for a long long while, reverberates far beyond the confines of Estonia and is inextricable from the work of any of her alumni no matter how far it travels. Needless to say Mälk herself was also a part of this exhibition, her dark pieces swirling with qualities of secrecy and fascination seem to provide us a window into her soul. This characteristic, rarely found to be so strong in Contemporary Jewellery, illicits a feeling of witchcraft and seduction, further breathing life into the cult-like nature Estonian Contemporary Jewellery possesses. It is safe to say that today’s Estonian jewellers are their own leg of the jewellery cult (Cult Jewellery, let’s go on to call it), and they have the world’s attention.

Nils Hint

Maarja Niinemägi

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Ketli Tiitsar

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The exhibition is accompanied by a catalogue designed by Asko and Julia Maria Künnap. In addition to presenting the work, each artist reveals something about themselves through one Estonian word and an illustrative image.

Curators: Thomas Cohn and Tanel Veenre

Participating artists:
Kadri Mälk, Tanel Veenre, Piret Hirv, Kristiina Laurits, Villu Plink, Nils Hint, Sofja Hallik, Eve Margus-Villems, Darja Popolitova, Maria Valdma, Julia Maria Künnap, Maarja Niinemägi, Ketli Tiitsar

The design of the exhibition is a collaboration by all the participating artists.

Supporters: Thomas Cohn, Cultural Endowment of Estonia, Susan Cummins, Helena Pahlman, Mart Kalm, Law Office Ehasoo&Partners, SA Noor Ehe, Emil Urbel

The Bright House

September 30, 2014

galleries/exhibitions, REVIEWS

Review of the Opulent Project at Gallery Loupe

January 10, 2013

galleries/exhibitions, jewelry (or jewellery), REVIEWS

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A Wrap Up: The Opulent Project

By Misha Kahn

Apologies for the time lapse on this review; in movie like form, Kellie and I ran into each other at JFK, and I got bumped and rerouted to go with her to New Orleans for Christmas – so the distraction was mutual, and now fully rested, we’re ready to blog!

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As always, there’s something wonderful and challenging about viewing work from younger artists. Usually the challenge is that you start striking connections between your own work and your peers with whom you have a charged relationship, unsure if the direction is valid or progressive. In this case, Meg Drinkwater and Erin Gardner’s reverence to antiquated ornament is one I can relate to and struggle with myself. In contemporizing their chosen forms they bring in some exciting new ideas about how jewelry fits into American society. The work steers clear of gaudy – and even finds a way to present ornament as non-ornament in a sense (hint: paint the wall to match your own ornament to achieve this affect at home!)

The wallpapered wall in a print of a patterned cube in perspective – a familiar pattern of Italian marble floors and a reoccurring visual reference of the likes of Babetto and other Padovan goldsmiths – begs the question of whether the wall itself was as singular piece, or simply a clever way to display the scattered and camouflaged pieces. This optical challenge played into one of my favorite types of unconventional display in the field; I like to call this “find the jewelry,” where the viewer is forced to approach and interact more closely with objects through some sort of slight trickery. With jewelry’s small scale, it can be hard to draw people in close enough to really examine a singular piece individually. With that said, Drinkwater and Gardner’s installation was a fairly effective ploy to get the viewer to look more closely at each jewel. Like chameleons, earrings were powder coated and painted with the same geometric pattern of the wallpaper.

The choice of this almost Escher-esque parquet as a two-dimensional formal reference was strong, as the work feels young and a bit op-arty even though it’s a much older pattern, allowing it to be paired more logically with the silhouettes of the jewelry.

During the show opening, Erin swooped in to show me how the necklaces and earrings can share parts, with pendants from one necklace able to de-attach and clip onto the companion earrings. Another necklace had a brooch pin on the back with a detachable chain.

This transformation was both engaging and humorously aware of the current economic recession (not sure that contemporary jewelry and the economy are so entangled, but at least it’s paying attention). Somehow this sentiment of frugality also leads into the thought that to own one necklace or ring from the wall was to own part of something larger. No one wearer could solely own the entirety of this work – one has to willingly accept that your piece relates to others, as all the pieces share parts of the larger pattern. At least to my naïve eyes, I think American culture is becoming slightly more okay with a transforming sense of the individual. The new individual understands their uniqueness through a lens of being part of a larger group – which is how the jewelry on this wall related to each other.

The plastic laser cut earrings also on exhibition exist in an interesting place in the context of the high priced world of art jewelry; a work you can take home for around $30 shares a roof with other objects that might be worth more than any of the cars I’ve ever owned. THIS ALWAYS WORKS, and here’s why: a true bred American is only capable of thinking about whether they like something through imagining owning it – and when one can actually own something, it makes the imagination of owning the other, more expensive works, more vivid. Of course in the design world, this is more expected, with Droog offering easily produced objects for 20 bucks alongside their more in depth conceptual work, or Murikami opening a Louis Vuitton store inside LACMA alongside his “artwork.”

I think the component which can make this relationship stronger, is when the two feel like they have a sibling relationship – where one feels related but slightly less developed. And in this case, and even though the ties between ornament and silhouette where there, I wasn’t really able to figure out how the two types of pieces went together. Visually, the plastic earrings (hung on a white wall) presented vivid colors against a blank, while alternatively, the contrast between the visual delicacy of the camouflage work drew the eye in to the other, and what seemed like the less exciting wall overall… I’m still pondering if the two relate in a really logical way or really if they have to.

I will also briefly mention that although the delicate lines were well executed, the modern silhouettes of classical jewelry ain’t the most revolutionary of ideas (see Islay Taylor, Constanze Schreiber, etc).

Perhaps my favorite piece, which I think did exist between the two semi-disparate projects, was a pair of earrings made of dipped clear plastic. These magical earrings reexamined the idea of the historical silhouette and added a dash of industrial design fin model, slightly asymmetrical and drippy. Basically each of these elements are a semi-surefire way to make any object visually appealing; this sounds like knock against the Opulent Project, but really it isn’t; it’s good and simple decision making. All together, the effect adds up to an enticing ice-palace treat; perhaps even a humorous nod to the camouflage wall as well, as a see-through earring might just reflect the color of the wearers ear and become a bit surreal.

If you also look forward to seeing what the Opulent Project will come up with in the future, follow them here: http://theopulentproject.blogspot.com

To view photos from the exhibition opening, please visit Gallery Loupe’s Facebook page —> here

Misha Kahn, RISD BFA Furniture ’11 and Fulbright Fellow, Israel 2011-12, lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.

To see a previous review written by Misha, please click ——> here

The Birthday Boys – A Review

November 1, 2012

galleries/exhibitions, jewelry (or jewellery), REVIEWS, semantics

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The following is a delightful review of Gallery Loupe’s recent show, The Birthday Boys by ≥’s first guest writer (!), Misha Kahn. Please see the previous post for photos.

Kellie was visiting me in NYC, over at my house trying to convince me to get on approximately 15 trains to go look at tiny things in Montclair, New Jersey. It was one of those Saturday afternoons that puts you into a sleepy daze, the kind that doesn’t make you want to trek out into the boonies for really anything one ain’t able to afford. But after a bit of convincing I came along – I’m not entirely unfamiliar with contemporary jewelry, but my understanding of it is largely through an easy comparison to my own playing field – furniture. It’s a similar set of problems, mostly peoples’ curiously rigid logic that design or craft or art should all get processed in different parts of the brain. Sure, aesthetics can translate but at the end of the day that little pin-back or those four legs force it into some other part of cerebral processing. And, rather hypocritically, I process most of these types of “craft” media in terms of whether or not I want to own it, wear it, or put it in my house. Unlike most people though my fantasy shopping isn’t limited by comfort or practicality or really any pragmatic concerns that the mainstream would use to evaluate “design” objects.

Let me tell you, I wanted everything at this show. Now, let me tell you why:

The Birthday Boys’ work was divided diagonally down the gallery, between a line of optically perplexing mirrored structures with delicate metal feelers on one side and little nuggets of perfection on the other, part memphis part maquette part tiny silly color texture pattern blocked objet d’brooch.

Peter Skubic’s mirrored mini chosms where like tiny little fun houses for your lapel. The way they reflected your face, fragmenting it and introducing your neighbors faces and body parts, re- configuring them felt reminiscent of a Hockney joiner or cubist painting. This way of seeing makes so much sense, because we never really see anything without processing it, introducing our own knowledge and memories of what surrounds us. These brooches function as glasses for seeing how we see – allowing us to see the room unpeiced, before our brain assembles these parts. The delicate feelers reaching out had the effect of an antanea, making sure the wearer didn’t bump into anything too close, but it’s easily altered forms become a memory of the space that the object has encountered, recording each of its run ins with its new, altered shapes. The pieces become a collection of memories, those recorded, and those of the moment, deconstructed and put on view. This to me seemed a more than valid justification for making a slew of objects that for all intensive purposes where quite similar. Because they were about this alteration of space, and this shattered view they worked more strongly in this extensive line up.

Although within contemporary jewelry there is no surprise when an object falls outside the mainstream convention of sparkly/shiny/precious, and since the other Birthday Boy was working with such high, reflective sheen, Thomas Gentilles felt extra fresh. Because of this, his work seemed even more reminiscent of the Memphis response to the largely chromed, sleek furniture of the early 80’s. His use of color, mixing pattern and play between angular construction and more imaginative shape and proportion added to this connection. However, on this scale the play between shape and pattern became far more engaging. As much as I hate to ever call things architectural, being as unimaginative as saying “it’s nice”- these brooches had some qualities of miniatures that forced this connection. Trying to imagine them blown up I was displeased, but at their current size, with the detailed prints of shattered eggshell they felt like pocket size maps to imaginary worlds. It was as though he discovered some secret area where a miniature only works at that size – a rarity in the object world where scale is frequently arbitrary or as large as the market will allow. In this brooches he created the effect of a window – functioning in such an abstract way – that one might be looking at Gentille’s world from a 10,000 foot altitude or standing so close its about to go out of focus.

Gentille’s play of scale and distance in conjunction with Skubics alteration of vision and memory made a show that left you in a blissful imaginative daze. Wandering back into the streets of suburban New Jersey feeling adjacent to standard space and time — all conjured by something to wear that on a Lapel – that is really something.

Misha Kahn, RISD BFA Furniture ’11 and Fulbright Fellow, Israel 2011-12, lives and works in Brooklyn (surprise!), New York.

KELLIE RIGGS REVIEWS ALCHIMIA’S GRADUATE EXHIBITION, PURUS

July 24, 2012

art (question mark), galleries/exhibitions, jewelry (or jewellery), REVIEWS, Uncategorized

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Dear Readers,

I’m reposting my review of Alchimia’s graduation show (it was first published on the Alchimia school blog) so that I can include more photos to better illustrate some points and to show a bit of the opening from last June. PLEASE ENJOY.

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WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU WANT TO WEAR A LEMON?

A review of PURUS, graduation exhibition of Alchimia Jewelry School, Florence, Italy

Multiple yellow citruses suspended in the foreground of woolly red and fleshy pink masses only scarcely hint to the world in which these puzzling objects belong. The hanging work seen through the large window of Alchimia acts as a mysterious aperitivo to the average passerby surely stumped by the question “what is this I’m looking at?”

To those of us familiar with the world of contemporary jewelry, hearing questions like this is common coming from others unaware of this unique and expressive form of art. But interestingly, even to the most acquainted sets of eyeballs, most of the Alchimia students’ pieces begged for similar inquiry. Due to the diverse content and spatial limitations inherent to graduation exhibitions, finding an appropriate method for review is a bit tricky. Unlike a normal group show, where collected work circles around a central theme, Alchimia’s PURUS, a title that mirrors the mutual curiousness of the content, showcases small collections of eleven very different emerging artists.

Upon entering, the gaze is focused straight ahead. Angular white tables hang from above, covered with what from a distance looks like delicious confections of white, light blues and soft pinks. Before the first table is reached, attention is indirectly diverted to the coat racks to the left. A double take is needed before realizing that the exhibition’s only true installation is what hangs on the wall.

The series of Izabella Petrut (Romania) is a self-proclaimed love story retold by dismembered roller blades and skating paraphernalia–turned jewelry objects. Pinned to and draped over similar colored clothing and casually thrown about denim, the work in hues of slate, cold blues and off-whites is tangled in disguise, as Petrut’s series seems at first to be hardly sentimental. Choosing titles for her shoe lace-wrapped wheel brooches like “sunrise on the beach…” and “the first morning…” the question that remains is whether the work really does retell the love story that the pieces represent, or if we can accept and maybe even enjoy the visual disconnect between object and intention. The especially flesh-toned wheel brooch (installed pinned to a shirt draped over a stool) starts to bridge this gap by insinuating a bodily connection. Ultimately, the relative ambition of the installation can be appreciated in comparison to other setups. Petrut’s ability to mirror the subtle yet familiar essence of the physical objects can be thanked for its success. More importantly, Petrut’s series, A Love Story, stays true to the jewelry’s position as the emotional and the everyday, while effectively avoiding aesthetic (but perhaps not verbal) redundancy and trite clichés.

With regard to exhibition install overall, the show starts on a short-lived high note as few other artists were allotted such a generous space for contextual display. Spatial constraints of the room could be partially to blame, certainly. But could it also be due to a lack of consideration and/or demand for an apt theoretical framework to the work? For some artists, perhaps yes. For Patrick Davison (Great Britain) however, his series Talking, isn’t in need of such support. Davison’s pieces stand autonomously on the first of the white tables, paired appropriately with Guilia Savino (Italy) and Weronika Marek (Poland). The series title is a delicate boost to their aesthetic independence –a product of a transcendence of materials (plaster or latex with silver and string) and a continuity of idea that elicits a strong lasting impression. Hot and delicate breath carried through a succession of string lifelines is evidence of a symbiotic relationship where talking is in fact making for Davison.

Davison’s necklaces ask to be picked up for a test of weightiness and to be seen elongated from all sides, not unlike the work of his tablemate, Guilia Savino in her series, Shhh!. It is apparent that both Davison and Savino would have greatly benefited from some room to breathe, as would have Marek. Collectively their subtle natures begin to infiltrate one another, diminishing the three aesthetics and conceptual underpinnings that uniquely demand individual isolation.

A division does endure between these three artists despite the close quarters, characterized by diverse explorations with material. This can be said for most of the Alchimia graduates, yet certain artists more soundly developed profound bodies of work that surpass a reliance on material as concept. How does materiality relate to the overall strength of a piece? Marek’s series, Into Emptiness, is worth mentioning here. The name, the objects—brooches comprised of cold cylinders in softly melting shades of icy blues and whites—and the sentiment all add up; knowing what they are made of is more of an added curiosity than it is crucial.

Across the room on an identical white table, Sam Hamilton’s series, Praise, (paired with the work of Ji Yang Lee, Korea), contributes to the dialogue addressing material strength and meaning. Being one of the more ambitious material explorations presented, it can perhaps be said that she is only getting started. At first it seems Hamilton’s internal and bubbly growth-like resins struggle to rationalize why they need to belong to the world of jewelry at all—yet this thought is quickly confronted after seeing the pieces contextualized. Small photographs of classical statues ornamented with Hamilton’s necklaces and a series of flipbooks showing continuous stages of process accompany the collection. Also thinking about communicative framework like Petrut, Hamilton (Ireland) is the only artist who thought to pair photos with the physical. They are important vestiges like her books, but should have been blown-up and presented as equally valued works. The images are beyond supplemental and positively mimic the praiseful and candidly personal satisfaction that making (and wearing) brings to the maker.

So then what does it really mean to put on an artwork, to adorn oneself with a summary of feelings, past events, ideas? Where can a personal connection be found, between maker and object, or object and future wearer? Some Alchimia graduates were capable of asking and simultaneously answering questions like these; Hamilton’s Praise serves as a humble example. Valentina Caprini (Italy) pushes it further by presenting a fresh take on the fundamental roles of jewelry vs. a devotion to them, successfully achieving equilibrium in her series, Therapy. The distinctive collection, displayed suspended from the ceiling (one of two collections first mentioned seen through the window), is so aptly titled that one can walk away with the word slipping off their tongue without having known it prior. Caprini’s work speaks on multiple levels including reinvention of tradition, making/wearing as healing, self-growth and remembrance, and femininity. The four woven necklaces into which pills have been sewn (and the trio of fleshy brooches) independently possess a strong emotive presence owed to the delicate and deliberate touch of the artist. In addition to a unique tactile quality, Caprini has involved an accessible depth to her work worthy of further contemplation.

Nearby, and in quite a stark contrast, are the dangling lemons by Catalina Gibert Nadal (Spain). Visual impact initially denies their alliance to the jewelry realm, as they seem to function as a sly ploy to get a wider audience through the front door. It works, strangely, and even stranger is why these mysterious lemons (some are brooches, others are long necklaces that would hang past the waist) are objects that someone would want to wear to carry the weight of. This moment of questioning is arguably part of the work itself, which becomes a sophisticated element provided that it’s intentional. In this way, Gibert’s Llimona series is perplexing; a delightful intrigue into the artist’s background and from where came her firm commitment to the citrus.

Located on the second of white tables near the entrance, the culturally referential collection, Sontob, the Korean word for Fingernail, similarly raises questions about the influence of place and why one decides to be adorned with specific things. Dinah Lee’s series (USA) can also be compared to Caprini’s insofar that Lee’s brooches are better synched to the concepts behind jewelry versus the aesthetics that identify it. If one can be convinced that the abstracted imagery denotes more than an empty semblance of a loyalty to heritage, the colorfully rhythmic brooches act as new traditional symbolism reflecting jewelry’s responsibility as a social and cultural signifier.

An initial critique of Lee’s collection would be to say that the presented work feels a bit redundant, or could have been pushed further. Before drawing this conclusion however, it is well worth looking through her published book that each graduate was required to provide as an accompaniment to his or her collection. The books are worth mentioning; some are able to enhance the shown work, as in the case of Andrea Coderch Valor (Spain). Hers is able to enlighten the viewer as to the true intention of her 150 pillowy-sewn flower brooches, each made one day at a time over the course of six months for one specific person. Coderch’s story is half the work itself; her book provides depth and closure to the physical objects installed for exhibition in a grid on its own wall opposite the book display.

More simply, the beautifully shot photographs found in Marek’s book reveal the quieter, poetic details of her pieces that can easily be overlooked in person.

Other books begin to call into question the selection decisions of curator, Christoph Zellweger, by exposing what he decided to include in the show and what he has decided to leave out. For example, some of Davison’s stronger and more varied pieces are excluded, similar to Lee, and the same goes for Anna Helena Van de Pohl de Deus (USA), Lee’s display tablemate. Helena’s exhibited work becomes more so affected after looking through her book. Not only does the book show more interesting works, but it also reveals a disconnect between concept and final product. By including a lot of quotes about talking, silence and language, Helena’s book proposes that the objects for her series, com∙mu∙ni∙ca∙tion, are supposed to stand in for her own communicative inabilities. If they’re meant to speak for her, what do they actually say? Her painterly neckpieces of pinks and natural wood are compositionally pleasing and probably fun to wear. Are these merely visual qualities lessened by the mismatch of object to verbal framework, thus failing to really say anything at all?

When an object strikes the right balance of message and mystery it develops a captivating nature. In terms of contemporary jewelry, one hopes this balance manifests into a desire to touch and to wear, hence creating a moment of exciting personal connection that characterizes the object’s success. The goal of this review is largely to speak about where in the exhibition this balance can be found so as to respect the dedicated investigations and personal growth (guided by artist and teacher Ruudt Peters) of each Alchimia student mentioned.

It can now also be said that the show’s abstract title, PURUS, Latin for “pure and free from”, ends up being quite a good match. Most of the collections are significantly personal; they are extensions of the individual that qualify a sense of pureness true to the maker, a quality not always found in the world of contemporary jewelry at large. By remaining free from one another and free from material limitations, the name too embodies the search for balance that the majority of graduates were ultimately able to discern.

Alchimia’s PURUS will travel to Joya Contemporary Jewelry week in Barcelona on October 11-13, followed by SIERAAD Art Fair in Amsterdam, November 1-4, 2012. Additionally, the work of Izabella Petrut, Weronika Marek and Dinah Lee will be showcased at Galerie Marzee in Nijmegen, NL for the 2012 International Graduate Show.