Thoughts from the Studio

Fall 2005

Wow! I did it. I finally got a passport and went to England. I had lots of concerned friends wondering how I felt about going to London just weeks after the subway bombings. But it was a wonderful trip, and yes, we rode the subways, and I got great pictures from the top of the double-deckered buses.

My dear friend Shelagh was a wonderful tour guide, and we didn’t get half of the things done she had planned for us. There is just no way to pack London into a week, but we sure did try. It’s difficult to calculate the miles we walked, and even harder to compress everything we saw. In the midst of the longest heat wave on record in Rochester, I arrived in London on August 2nd to a week of blissfully sunny, cool days. No rain, no fog, just the most vivid summer skies with lofty white clouds as a magnificent backdrop. Postcard days.

And yes, I did some incredibly “tourist” things. Shelagh’s flat is a couple of blocks down from the famous Abbey Road Beattle’s photograph, so of course I had to get a picture of me walking across the same crosswalk. We saw “The Tempest” at the Globe Theater, and it was so amazing to be there that I was almost in tears with excitement. We saw an outdoor Gilbert and Sullivan play, “HMS Pinafore” in Regents Park, complete with picnic and champagne. And we toured the Tate modern, then ferried down river to the British Tate. We wandered through the vendor’s stalls at Notting Hill, and walked along the canal to the outdoor market at Camden. We had lunch in a little café, where the waitress told me I had the most charming accent, no one has ever said that to me before! And I taught Shelagh’s friend from France how to use “way”, “get out” and “shut up”. We visited Cambridge, such an enchanting place, made all the more delightful by a population that bikes everywhere. Since I just love to bike, I always feel a certain longing and kinship to a place that is bike friendly, and think how wonderful it would be to live in a place like that. Shelagh and her husband Peter have a condo in the little village of Royston, and so it was an unexpected surprise to go from there to Henry Moore’s home and studio, since I actually had no idea where he lived. His bucolic country setting reminded me of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Taliesin that I saw last summer in Wisconsin. Moore was devoted to his sheep, and most of his studios overlooked the sheep paddock that was littered with magnificent sculptures for the soul purpose of enchanting the sheep. The sheep live on there, and one of the sculptures they especially like, has a wonderful and rich patina over most of the piece. But where the sheep rub their richly lanolin coated bodies the brass still glows a golden shine. I stole a few pebbles from his grounds that looked like his work, one in particular looks like a Henry Moore bird.

Then there is the amazing smallness of the planet. We were meandering down streets that had interesting shops, and also looking for a mailbox, or rather a pillar-box to be exact. We spotted one down a side street, and along the way I was taken by the sidewalk display of retro chairs outside a small furniture gallery. We went in, chatted with the owner, and discovered that he knew Wendell Castle, and some other guy who had a great collection of retro stuff, who turned out to be Richard Storms, owner of Record Archives. What was the chance of meeting someone whom knew two people in Rochester I know? On a randomly chosen side street of London? Other more worldly travelers have said this isn’t as uncommon as I think, but it sure did impress me.

And then there is coming home. Home. I realize with the horrible news from down south, how truly precious home is. It’s a humble place for most of us, cluttered with stuff we may not truly appreciate until it’s inextricably gone. It’s not the precious things that define us, it’s the stuff we pack away, the letters, the photographs, the wedding dress, the craft show earrings our love bought for us, the painting we spent more money then we could afford because it spoke to us. Gone. I can’t even bring myself to think about the pets.

I live in a city where people enjoy complaining about the weather like a recreational sport. But we never have to fear loosing our homes. Yes, back problems from shoveling snow, but our houses don’t disappear. Our treasures are safe. I think about a photograph I have in my kitchen, it is a picture of cigar boxes full of mismatched silverware taken in the junk shop that was downstairs of my first apartment. The photograph in itself is worthless, an art student’s study. But it has hung in every single kitchen I have had for thirty years now. To have a kitchen without that picture, would be sad beyond words. I need that picture in ways no insurance claim could ever adjust.

As I attend to the daily details of life, all of them become precious in their simple normalcy. Hanging clothes on the line, going to the farmer’s market for the first crop of apples, picking up the phone to call a friend, painting my toenails, taking a two hour bike ride, or drinking coffee in my own bed on Sunday morning surrounded by my cats. These are treasures.

I know you are counting your treasures too.
Elizabeth.

Summer 2005

I attended a community arts meeting the other night for our local alternative gallery Rochester Contemporary, (RoCo). My relationship with that gallery goes back many years, back when it was the Pyramid, back four or five locations ago. And as long as I have been involved, (or at times not involved), it has been struggling. Non-profit organizations are like the artists they serve, forever at the bottom of the mountain. Vision, passion, brainstorming and a new day always keep the summit out of our grasp.

That constant challenge unites us, and causes us to need to unite. And an organization like RoCo is just such a place for that to happen. I have probably attended some of the most exciting exhibits and celebratory openings there then at any other place in Rochester.

Their annual fund raising auction, “The Daze of Art”, will be held this year on Friday, June 24th. They are on East Avenue near the Eastman Theater between Gibbs and Scio Streets. For more information go to their website at www.rochestercontemporary.org. I will be donating the pieces you see on your left. All bids start at 25% of the retail price, so come on down, and test your luck!

The top picture is a sterling silver bracelet and necklace set from my “Shape in the Clouds” series. The necklace is 25 inches, all jump rings are soldered as a continuous loop. The bracelet is 7 inches long. These two have a normal retail price of $110.

The picture on the bottom is a bracelet from my “Fossil and Bone” series. This 7-inch sterling silver bracelet is sterling silver with bezel set hand-cut bruno jasper cabochons. All jump rings are soldered shut, and the toggle clasp is also handmade. This bracelet retails for $350.

My year at Rochester Institute of Technology’s School for the American Crafts came to an end last month, and I am going to miss being there. Last fall, it seemed like such an impulsive decision, to put everything on hold and go back to school, that I really wondered if I was out of my mind. But I realized I needed to trust that gut feeling as much as I know immediately if a piece I am working on is right, or just in the ball park.

When I approached Leonard Urso about the possibility of attending classes there, he was so warm and welcoming, that any residual hesitation was gone. After almost twenty years making jewelry, I felt a deep need to push myself out of my comfort zone. I knew there were two paths, do things I already knew how to do, and look the part of the self-employed jeweler I am, or go so far out on a limb, that I would have to embrace humbling myself, looking like I didn’t have a clue. I chose the later.

One challenge was fitting the class time into an already busy schedule, which meant I was not there for after-class hours. But the imperfection of that reality did not dampen my spirit or enthusiasm. What it meant was that I rarely ended up with finished pieces, but got far enough along to take the ideas and notes home with me for a summer full of further exploration.

As a fabricator, I have rarely used a hammer as a primary tool. When we made masks that was all we used and it was really exciting if not a little daunting. I have primarily used sheet metal, cut to shape, soldered pieces together, with very little emphasis on rising too far off the surface. The experience of actually moving metal with a hammer was entirely new for me. Tapping is one thing, wailing on the thing to create volume is another.

I started a project that was a simple assignment, use the hand as inspiration for a piece. The obvious response might be a ring, but for whatever reason, I went for gloves. Trying to construct gloves from copper using old glove patterns I found on the internet, was a real challenge, because first of all, I didn’t want them to end up looking like hands. Repeated “google” searches for gloves unearthed so many ideas, that I know I will be examining this theme for years to come.

Another really exciting path was repousse. My attempts gave me the answer to why you don’t see a lot of this work in contemporary jewelry. It’s a mind-boggling consumer of time. I have never lost time before in just such a way. While I was working on a piece, time and space vanished, it’s just you and tiny little hammer movements over and over and over and over. I’d come up for air once in a while feeling like I had been in some kind of dream state.

I learned so much more then just new methods. I learned that years of honing my own working studio was not random or incidental. I had a hard time adjusting to my workbench at school. I have accepted through the years that each time I moved my studio I should count on two weeks of down time. Things aren’t where you expect them to be. Nothing is instinctual, there is no swing to the right to grab this, kind of feeling. I have an antique oak post office desk as my workbench. It was made address your letters and put on stamps standing up. Its higher profile is perfect for jewelry making, and the holes once used for inkwells are just the thing for attaching my swing arm lamps. I think without my old companion, I would just have to stop making jewelry. Another thing I couldn’t adjust to was soldering sitting down at my bench. I have a separate soldering station and solder standing up. These kinds of insights were valuable too.

What I suppose I didn’t count on was the overwhelming acceptance and friendship of the other (much younger) students. It made me realize, all over again, how hard it had been to go from the nurturing, inclusive and energy-filled environment of school to the quiet solitude of working for myself many years ago. I was really humbled by each and every student’s willingness to include me in their studio. I am so touched by being part of them. It’s an experience all by itself that I will treasure forever. I found them inspiring, brilliant, generous, and so incredibly open.

This year unlocked doors for me, cemented ideas and values I already embraced, introduced me to new friends, and made me realize, again, that taking risk is a gift to ourselves.

See you in the fall when I get back from England,

Elizabeth.

I’ll give you a hint to truly embracing a Rochester winter… an earlapper hat made from beaver fur. (Thank-you Peg!) Forget long underwear, this is the one article of clothing that will assure that outdoor adventures are not only endurable, but exciting. (And once you’ve thrown the first snowball, the offended party will have little chance of scoring a hit down the back of your neck!) I’ve hid this particular fashion fetish of mine for years, only to discover last weekend in NYC that these hats have become quite the fashion statement. Who knew? Now I can wear my earlapper with pride.

We had a blast in New York, and as far as I am concerned February is the time to go. It’s cool enough for all the walking I do, and every place is having sales. Just by a stroke of luck we arrived for the opening day of Christo’s installation in Central Park, “The Gates”. It may be the only time I get to experience one of his installations in person, and I found it beautiful, ever-changing, and serene. Good food goes without saying, but how often do you get to indulge and then walk so much you come home weighing less? I got in on the last day of the Aztec exhibit at the Guggenheim, which was thrilling. Pre-Columbian Art was my favorite in college, and to finally see some of the sculptures I had only seen in books really got me jazzed.

I’ve been really enjoying my classes at RIT, and have learned so much, that at times my head is spinning. I feel a little envious of the full-time students who are able to intensely submerge themselves in their work. When we are in college I think we don’t have any idea how lucky we are to just be able to get totally engrossed. I’m there two full days a week, and I always walk out of there on Tuesday evening with a heavy heart. I’m so wrapped up in my work, and know I won’t be back to tackle it again until next Monday. It is exciting to be out of my comfort zone, and see so many things in new ways, and to learn techniques I wasn’t introduced to the first time around. The pace makes me dizzy, and I finish very few pieces as we launch into the next new thing. Each new technique gives me one of those eureka moments about how to apply it at some future date.

Four days of the week I am at Craft Company No.6, which pleases me, I am enjoying my work there. I’ve been able to apply some of my other talents there remodeling the jewelry display cases. I enjoy the chance to work in materials that closely follow my love of mixed-media. I feel good about being able to offer customers advice from a jeweler’s perspective, and educate them a little about what they are looking at, in terms of craftsmanship. Everyday is an adventure, meeting new people with interesting lives, and wonderful stories. I’ve often felt there was a deep sharing when someone chooses to wear handmade jewelry, and the last few months have born that out. Whether it’s a young couple looking at wedding rings that will express their individuality, or a spunky senior citizen who is buying herself a special pair of earrings to celebrate her victory over cancer, I am left feeling like we have made a real connection. I like working at a place where your ideas are valued, everyone is like a big family, and the owners are real special people.

That leaves me one day a week to tackle studio work, act like a homeowner, cook for the week, and spend time with my honey. It’s a daunting schedule for sure, but most of the time it works.

Just a reminder to those of you who order work on-line, be sure to include a descriptive subject line that makes it abundantly clear you are not sending spam. Something like “ordering earrings from your website” is much more likely to catch my attention then say “order”. I have had a few unfortunate cases this year where the subject line was not descriptive and I missed the email, and deleted it with the other 150 spam’s I get each day. If you do not hear from me within a day, assume I didn’t get it, or didn’t notice it. This summer while I was away, I had to log in during vacation to simply dump mail so my box wouldn’t get overloaded, and sometimes that is not possible.

I have gotten a number of inquiries about my workshops, which I have cut back on this year. Feel free to check out the workshop page for information on private workshops for you and your friends.

Live each day as if it matters, because it does.
Elizabeth.