Today, we’re straying off the beaten path yet again, this time in a slightly different direction. Last week we looked at a “stone” that’s not a stone at all, but a substance formed of natural material by the intervention of human processes. Today we’re going to look at another “stone” that isn’t a stone, but it’s a natural material that requires no human intervention to create its color and beauty: a shell.
Specifically, what is known in Southwestern Native art as spiny oyster shell.
It comes in different colors, and to the untrained eye, the blood-red versions can be mistaken for coral, another material popular in the Native jewelry of this region. Like coral, it even feels like a stone when it’s been cut and cabbed and polished or turned into beads. And considering its make-up, it’s remarkably resilient.
Spiny oyster shell is actually a catch-all name for members of the mollusk genus Spondylus, the only one fund in the larger family labeled Spondylidae. To date, more than fifty separate Spondylus species have been identified, hailing from all over the world and each with its own specific variations. They are part of the class known as bivalve mollusks, a group that includes clams, ordinary oysters, and scallops — soft flattened bodies enclosed in a hinged, mirror-image pair of protective shells. Spondylus is edible, but in this part of the world, it’s best known for the beauty of its shells. They are not, despite the name, actually oysters; those belong to a different family, Ostreidae. The misnomer no doubt arises form a combination of appearance and behavior: the bivalve bodies described above, and the fact they do attach themselves to rocks. Unlike oysters and many other mollusks, however, the hinge on their shells takes a different form; instead of interlocking teeth, it forms into a ball-and-socket-like apparatus, like a tiny version of the human hip joint.
These beings’ ordinary names vary by region, era, and profession. Some reportedly call them spondylids, but I’ve never heard it in casual use; I suspect that’s something found mostly in scientific communities. In some parts of the world, they’re known as thorny oysters. in this region, we use the name “spiny oyster,” a reference to the protective spines that extend outward from the shell like the quills of a startled porcupine.
It has, of course, been millions of years since this part of Indian Country was covered with sufficient water to foster a home for such creatures. However, this area was also historically one of the continent’s major trade routes, extending south to Mexico and beyond, north to Canada, and connecting points east with the Pacific Ocean to the west. Trade in all sorts of objects and materials has thrived here for hundreds, even thousands of years, and colorful shells for jewelry and other purposes have been no exception.
In ancient times, the spiny oyster shell traded in this area likely came from two major sources: harvested from the Pacific Coast to the west; and extracted from the earth of what is now known as the Fort Worth Formation to the east, where today it can be found in fossil forms dating as far back as the Mesozoic Era. It is also found in fossil form in the Pacific Northwest, in the Trent River Formation of Vancouver, British Columbia, and it’s not unlikely that some of the shell traded in this area in the old days found its way down from that site. It’s also possible that some spiny oyster shell was brought northward from South America; it’s still harvested and in popular use in parts of Peru and Ecuador, whose indigenous peoples have used it for artistic, cultural, and spiritual purposes for thousands of years. It has also been found in in Neolithic-Era jewelry excavated from European sites; As early as 4500 B.C.E., it was reportedly harvested from the Aegean Sea and brught into the European interior via trade route. Here in the U.S., it is reportedly harvested today off the coast of Baja California. It’s found in relative abundance in other parts of the world, however, and much of what is available on the American market is imported.
The shell’s widely variable geographic range, and its broad diversity of species, mean that it manifests in a substantial spectrum of colors. Most people think of spiny oyster shell as appearing in an intense orange-red shade that resembles the color of classic red branch coral. That’s perhaps its most popular shade, but it’s far from the only one.
In reality, even the red shell is only part of a spectrum of color. You can see in the earrings above, and perhaps better in those in the photo at the top of this post, that the same piece of shell can contain swatches of color that range from nearly pure white to pale golden yellow to peach to flame orange to coral to crimson to deep scarlet. But it’s often possible to distinguish between “red” spiny oyster shell and “orange” spiny oyster shell based on the color that constitutes the majority of a given cabochon or bead (or entire strand of them).
But spiny oyster shell also manifests in shades of lavender and lilac and even a dusky violet purple, sometimes shot through with hints of magenta and mulberry, other times, with sandy neutral earth tones. You can see an example in the earrings below:
The blue inlay in these earrings is, of course, lapis lazuli. The other bits of inlay appear to the untrained eye to be of several different stones. In reality, they are all simply pieces of spiny oyster shell in a palette that reflects only part of the range of color in which this beautiful water spirit manifests.
But there’s one other color that is often found in spiny oyster shell, and compared to the others, it’s entirely counterintuitive. Orange and purple may perhaps occupy differing parts of the spectrum, but it’s easy to see how they relate to each with shades of red as the mediator.
But green?
Yes, green. There is a not-insubstantial portion of spiny oyster shell, particularly that on the more purple end of the spectrum, that also contains shades of olive green, some pale, some intensely hued.
We once had a multi-strand bead necklace in inventory, one by the Tenorios of Kewa Pueblo, that was a perfect example of this phenomenon; unfortunately, I’ve been unable to dig up a photo of it. It was a series of three strands of doughnut-style rondel beads cut from deep olive-green serpentine. The upper left portion of each strand was strung with a roughly two-inch segment of spiny oyster shell beads cut in the same shape, with a shell horse fetish inserted on each strand. The shell beads were majority white and purple (more intense versions of the colors in the beads shown in the necklace below), with swatches of olive green throughout, a shade that coordinated perfectly with the serpentine of the larger necklace.
Compared to coral, Wings uses spiny oyster shell relatively rarely in his own work. With coral’s accelerating scarcity (and commensurate spike in cost), that may change. In the past, he has used it largely in earrings, such as the first two pairs shown in this post, both of which were made by him (the studs sold years ago; the ones at the top of this post are my own and not for sale). The only item we currently have in inventory that is made with spiny oyster shell is the little necklace shown above. it’s one from Wings’s private collection, the artist’s name lost to memory now, but it was, at the time he acquired it, made by one of the children in the community. It’s a modest little strand, suitable for wear by a child, but equally suitable for an adult, regardless of gender. From its description in the Other Artists: Miscellaneous Jewelry here on the site:
This simple little necklace is one from Wings’s private collection, made years ago by one of the Pueblo’s children. Strung on simple fishing line, it features spiraled metal tube beads with a coppery glow. Half-way down the length of the necklace, they begin alternating with rough-polished chip beads of spiny oyster shell in purple and white, centered by a single square bead of sky-blue Arizona turquoise with a silvery-black pyrite matrix. Necklace is roughly 18″ in total length. Full view shown at the link.
Metal beads; spiny oyster shell; turquoise
$125 + shipping, handling, and insurance
In some cultures, such a necklace would carry symbolic significance: an offering to Mother Earth, a young woman’s symbol of womanhood and fertility, an invoking of blessings and prosperity from one of the spirits of the waters. Here, it’s simply a beautiful traditional style made from one of the gifts of Mother Earth, a jewel from the waters in the body of a once-living creature.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
