Sometimes, Wings adds flowers to the work; sometimes, the work is the flower.
Today’s featured throwback is one from not quite two and a half years ago, one created as part of a commission of multiple pieces by a very dear friend that she intended as holiday gifts for family members. On a day like this, at the midpoint of spring, winter seems fortunately now far off, but today’s work is infused more with the spirits of warmer winds than those of winter.
This was one of four specific works: three brooch-style pins similar in design but each unique, each with its own gemstone, for our friend’s nieces; and a Corn Maiden pin for her sister, the young women’s mother. The key point, however, involved the stones: The gemstones used in each of the three pins would be replicated, in smaller form, in the Corn Maiden (along with a fourth gem intended to represent our friend’s nephew, her sister’s son); in this way, the pendant would itself be infused with jewels honoring the spirits of the wearer’s children. [We featured the pendant in this space back in December, here.]
And when I say “honoring the spirits” of the children, I mean exactly that. Our friend is a shrewd observer of people, one able to home in on a person’s essential, elemental qualities — those that make her unique, but also those that represent the best, most beautiful parts of her identity. And so she and I talked at some length about each individual, about their identities and preferences and what characteristics captured the essence of their spirits. We then worked to match up those qualities with appropriate stones, taking into account favored colors and symbolic imagery. At the end of the process, our friend had settled on amber, citrine, and rainbow moonstone for the three nieces’ pins (along with an amethyst cabochon for the Corn Maiden pendant to represent the nephew).
The three pins were to be designed as sizeable round conchas, traditionally domed and yet possessed of a unique an updated spirit and style. It’s a design that Wings has used periodically in earrings, and indeed, our friend owns a pair of them; indeed, they were the inspiration for her choices in this specific commission.
In this case, the conchas that would serve as the pins would be measurably larger, although not outsize. Each was hand-cut in a scalloped pattern around the perimeter, one of Wings’s favored designs. They matched up with stones on the Corn Maiden pin in the following order: amber, citrine, and rainbow moonstone (followed by amethyst). Each was designed to embody the properties of a flower, and also of the flowering of the light.
We take them out of chronological order today, and begin with the second, the one built around a citrine cabochon. Of the three, its stone was perhaps most like the winter light, but its setting was definitely most representative of a flower. And while the clouds have moved in today and the wind is rising, as with these petals in silver and stone, the flowers persist: blossoms bending in the breeze, opening to the light.
Wings has been creating conchas for decades; he has become efficient at the process through sheer dint of experience. Even so, that process is a painstaking one, and the more edgework and stampwork involved, the more complex it gets. That level of complexity is made higher by the fact that he virtually always creates chased ,repeating stampwork designs nested in concentric circles, from the interior of the concha outward all the way to its very edge.
Such was the case with this pin. The order of the first steps varies with efficacy and inclination: Sometimes he cuts out the concha first, then adds the stampwork; probably more often, he reverses that process. If memory serves, he began this piece (all three of them, actually), with the stampwork, having sketched out on the silver a freehand perimeter “orb” within which to place them.
He began with the interior hoop, the smallest circle of stampwork. For these, he chose a flowering design, a tiny plant with petals opening at the sides, rising toward the sun at the center. He placed this circle a few millimeters from the very center of the concha all the way around. For the center hoop, Wings selected a stamp that, pointed upward, seems to resemble the spiky rays of a rising sun, steep and sharp. This time, he invert4ed the stamp, so that the apex of the arc faced inward toward the inner hoop of flowers. It seemed to create an alternating pattern of blossoms — of petals and flowers and leaves reaching toward each other. The third, outer hoop of stampwork would appear right at what would become the hand-scalloped edge of the pin, and for this, he chose a traditional sunrise symbol, one arcing skyward, grounded at either end in tiny hoops that connected each to those on either side.
Once the stampwork was complete, he cut the entire pin out, freehand, using a tiny jeweler’s saw and following the rounded edges of the sunrise symbols. He then filed the edges smooth, turned the pin over, added his hallmark, and domed it lightly, using a technique known as repoussé. The doming is one of the elements that “makes” a concha, which is the Spanish word for “shell.” Were the blossom design left flat, it would still make for a very pretty pin, but it would not be in the form of a concha. He then added the pin assembly on the reverse.
The basic body of the pin complete, it was time to turn his attention to the setting for the stone. With conchas, the bezels must be added after the repoussé work, to ensure that the doming process does not crack the solder and cause the bezel to separate from the piece. It’s also why, save for exceptionally large conchas such as those used as belt buckles, the cabochons with which they are set are almost uniformly of smaller sizes. In this instance, Wings created a saw-toothed bezel to hold the cabochon, then trimmed it in delicate twisted silver. Trimming the bezel in this way accomplishes multiple functions: it takes up space between the bezel and the stampwork, if needed; it adds a sense of depth; and it sets off the stone. Once the twisted silver was soldered securely into place, he oxidized all the joins and stampwork, and buffed it to a medium-high polish.
At last, it was time to set the stone. Our friend chose citrine for a niece she described (perhaps in other words) as gently radiant, as bringing light and beauty to the world around her. Wings blessed the piece accordingly, in the traditional way, specifically for the young woman who would wear it.
Very often, when Wings creates a group of pieces, whether commissioned or otherwise, one jumps out at me as an immediate favorite. This was not the case with these works; even hard-pressed, I doubt that I could choose one above the others. Each embodied its own particular detail work; each was infused with its own unique properties to complement the spirit of its wearer. One would capture the fiery sun of the dawn, one the ethereal glow of the moon, and one — this one — the flowering of the daylight world.
It’s a good spirit to carry with us, whether in the dark depths of winter or the bright shimmer of spring.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
