The storm is gathering now.
The prediction is for snow beginning this afternoon. Whether it actually materializes here remains to be seen, never mind in qhat quantities. The forecast looks lovely, but we’ve long sine learned not to put too much stock in it.
Still, there is a change in the weather, however briefly, and it calls to mind earlier autumns, earlier threshold spaces that mark the line between what the outer world calls “October” and “November,” the line between observances of spirits and saints and souls, and far older sorts of beings, too.
That is the nature of our seasons and our spaces, braiding history and time in ways that link worlds beyond memory with those beyond imagining, our own tangible one sitting somewhere along that hoop — for this is a spectrum that is not a line, but a circle, infinite, eternal in ways that the human mind has no tools to comprehend.
We feel it most, perhaps, at this time of year: as fall begins, just a little, to cede space to winter, and as the spirits of both, newly emboldened, seek the freedom of walking in this world once more.
Speaking of circles, it called to mind the newish work featured in this space on Sunday, which in turn summoned the memory of one of Wings’s earlier pieces wrought in a similar style, if very different in the details. This week’s #ThrowbackThursday work dates back, if memory serves, some fourteen years: to 2008, and probably more or less this time of year. In 2008 and 2009, Wings created a number of these wristbands (as well as a couple of pairs of earrings) using old coins from his personal collection — nickels, known variously as “Indian head” nickles of “buffalo” nickels, depending on the side of the coin facing up. These are nearly a century old now, the one on the left clearly stamped “1936,” the one on the right, shown in the obverse, unclear but likely from the same or a similar year.
At that time, Wings had decided to make a few vintage-style wristbands, made using braided leather and old coins. The leather is the same used in bolos and in the narrow ties at the end of concha belts, and at that time, he had some extra that he deemed better used in this way. The black, as I recall, was a bit heavier, and he kept those to a single strand, but the brown braided leather, beautiful in color, was nonetheless thinner, and in for this purpose, he chose to double the strands.
That stage of the creative process was the easy part: Cut a strand of braided leather to double the length you need, being sure to leave enough to insert firmly into the findings at either end, then double it and snip the closed end so that you have two equal shorter lengths.
Then come the conchas.
Make no mistake, these coins are conchas. Indeed, in the early days of such belts (and other works, from hatbands to buckles to earrings and more), coins were commonly used to make them. They were often more readily accessible that silver ingot, and easier to use; artists could crank them through a rolling mill to flatten them and reduce the surface imagery, or hammer them into the traditional domed shape that is required for a piece of silver to be a concha instead of a medallion.
In this instance, Wings chose, very deliberately, to leave the Native imagery on both surfaces of the coins. He domed each by hand, in the traditional repoussé fashion, hammering each from its opposite side using a specialized small anvil and mallet to create the proper arc. Then, at the very center of each on the concave side, he carefully soldered a small sterling silver, heavy but with a sufficiently wide opening to accommodate both strands of leather. You’ll notice that he chose to feature one coin’s face (the Indian head) and one coin’s obverse (the buffalo), placed facing each other: a world that once was, and might still have been, but for the violence of colonialism and genocide.
He strung both coins along the twinned band, taking care to keep them equidistant from either end and spaced properly next to each other to allow them both to sit on the top of the wearer’s wrist. Then he tightened the loops, crimping the leather between them and the coins’ undersides. Finally, he attached the findings to either end of the leather strands. With thin, round strands of braided leather, the most effective way is to insert them into a tiny open cylinder specially designed for this purpose: Less than a quarter inch in length, these findings are tiny tubes made of sterling silver, closed and rounded on one end (sometimes with a jump ring already attached) and open on the other; the open end is usually serrated, and once the leather is inserted, those edges are turned tightly into it, where they grab hold securely. Then, more ordinary findings, such as a lobster claw and loop (in this case) or occasionally a hook and eye, are attached to the jump rings on the ends, so that the wristband can be snapped securely closed.
Once complete, all that remained was to buff it and bless it and offer it up for sale. I no longer recall whether he buffed the coins on the wheel or simply used a rouge cloth; I suspect he used the wheel before stringing them and then buffed them again by hand when it was complete. With coins, if you want the surface imagery to show, you want to keep the power buffing to a minimum — just enough to remove tarnish and let them shine, but not enough to wear away the images.
This was one of several different concha-style wristbands that he created over a the years that included that period. If memory serves, there were initially only two, this one and another with two Indian head nickels face up on a single strand of braided black leather — and then, if I remember correctly, a couple more the following year. There were also a few scattered throughout the years since that featured more traditional stamped conchas instead of old coins. But this one was always one of my favorites, both for the rich brown of the doubled band and for the imagery on the coins and its placement. At a time like this, with the world in the state that it is, braiding history and time to remain alive in memory and imagination alike? It is elemental to survival survival itself.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
