The one advantage fall’s early arrival has brought us is its otherworldly clarity. There is a haze to the light this morning, true, but it’s one of pollen and particulate matter; the sky itself is utterly cloudless, not so much as a single puff white anywhere to be seen.
And last night, for the third night in a row, the heavens have been a cold velvet black, beaded with the diamond flash of a million million stars.
Our altered weather patterns deprived us entirely of any view of the new comet in recent weeks. In what should have been summer’s clearest nights, clouds veiled moon and stars throughout the dark hours, no light visible in the skies until the dawn. For us, there is no fear to be found in cloudy skies, but it’s nice to be able to orient oneself in the dark by the radiant gaze of the spirits who dwell therein: the rising and setting of the sun, the moon, the stars of evening and morning and the bridge between the worlds. They assure us of our place in this world, that our world, our cosmos, remains essentially sound and safe, supporting out survival.
Today’s featured work is the embodiment of all of these gifts, wrought wholly in sterling silver. This week’s themes are built around the category of cuff bracelets, all silver, no stones. Each also happens to emphasize a different silverwork technique: on Tuesday, overlay; yesterday, ajouré cutwork; today, anticlastic shaping (with explorations of millwork and stampwork still to come over the next few days). It dates back to 2008 or so, one of his earlier anticlastic pieces, and its very simplicity was what made it especially beautiful — and powerful.
The term “anticlastic” refers to the shape of the band, exactly the opposite of an ordinary cuff: the edges sweep gracefully upwards, leaving the center of the band’s surface concave; the inner band is a smooth inverted arc. Wings uses the technique for bracelets, but also, occasionally, for rings; I have examples of both in my personal collection. And this one sold long ago, but it was stunning in its spare, powerful elegance.
But the secret of an anticlastic band? Is that it begins like any other. The stampwork occurs while the silver is still flat and unshaped; the curving of the metal occurs nearer the end of the entire process.
And this stampwork was extraordinary. After all these years, I no longer know whether Wings intended the design from the outset, or it came together as he worked. Either is as likely as the other; Wings often speaks of how Spirit guides his work, to a degree that a piece he intends to have a given form and shape may turn out to be something else entirely, even in a wholly different category of silverwork.
This one began with the cutting of the silver, a gently flared shape that was widest at the center, gradually tapering at either end. For the main design, he chose a single plain chisel-end stamp, one long straight line that he arrayed in threes: a single straight center line crossed diagonally by the other two, creating a tipi-like lodgepole design. These tripartite motifs he placed at equidistant intervals down the center of the band, the juncture at which the lines met in each motif scaled according to the taper of the band’s width. At the point where each met, he placed a much smaller stamp, itself a tipi or lodge symbol, perpendicular to the larger “poles,” creating the effect of the open upper flaps of a lodge’s outer hide covering.
He then chose two additional stamps (a grand total of four to create the entire design): one an Eye of Spirit, turned sideways (on the vertical); the other, a tiny round hoop. He placed the Eye at the center point between each of the larger lodge motifs; he flanked each Eye with a single sacred hoop down the center of the band. It created an unending line of lodge symbols, held safe beneath the Spirit’s Eye, small worlds, sacred hoops, spinning in place between them all.
Once the stampwork was complete, Wings turned to the shaping of the band. As it stood, band flat, it still would have made for a beautiful cuff — but the shaping added that one bit of a magic, of medicine, that made the piece complete. Consonant with the stampwork imagery, the gently sloping design reinforced the notion of protection and safety, within the embrace of the lodge, of the hoop, and of Spirit’s guidance.
Anticlastic forging requires the use of a specially shaped mandrel. All cuff are hammered around a mandrel to give them their arc, but this one is different; it contains its own slopes and curves extending in a series of waves down the mandrel’s length, allowing him to reset the piece in place accordingly and create its unusual shape. You can see a photo of it, and read more about the process, here.
Shaping complete. Wings filed the edges smooth, including a slight rounding of the corners of the band for comfort. He oxidized the stampwork, then buffed it to a velvety Florentine finish. And the stampwork at the concave center of the band caught the light, refracting it up and outward across the band, and out into the world.
It’s a perfect metaphor for Spirit’s Eye: exactly the sort of illumination our world needs now . . . and the protection, too.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
