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FEATURE STORY
Reflecting their surroundings in their art, four enamelists paint delicate, intricate pictures in glass.
by Ettagale Blauer Of all the alchemy going on in the world of jewelry and metalsmithing, there is none quite so magical as that of the artist working with glass. Here is a medium that almost defies the artist to succeed. To truly master the medium of glass takes agility, creativity, dexterity, vision, and, as always, patience. To be a successful cloisonné enamelist takes all that, plus a certain element of genius -- that's the basic job description. Some minds, however, seem to thrive on the challenge of the difficult and positively blossom as they approach the impossible. A sense of joy pervades the work, a joy that begins when the jeweler approaches the bench. It begins, in fact, at the very place where the bench is located -- it seems as though beautiful surroundings are crucial to the creation of these beautiful paintings in glass. There is a serious shortage of cloisonné enamelists who live in densely populated urban areas, looking out at skyscrapers. (That seems to work for writers, but not for glass artists.) The foursome discussed here live close to nature, in hamlets or small towns: two in California, one in Georgia, and one in New Jersey. A room with a view is as indispensable to their work as the colors that make up their images.
My color palette changes with the seasons and the light, says Marilyn Druin, of Freehold, New Jersey. I have good light and I look out at trees, at natural things. In the fall, the foliage is so incredible, it finds its way into the work. Right now, I am mid-summer. And it is at times like this, she says, when I set out to do a commission in blue and the piece turns orange. Whatever I have been near imprints me. Imprinting has certainly made a difference in the work of Merry-Lee Rae, one of the two California-based artists. My subject matter has followed along with the things that delight me, things out of my garden, big cats and little cats. Whatever fascinated me, something I love. But when she gave herself a 40th birthday present and took scuba diving lessons, she says, The change in my work was immediate. It was one of those things. Being underwater is so affecting. Floating 50 to 100 feet down, being bumped by rays, hanging out at the reef. Suddenly her work was filled with ocean imagery. Species of real sea life such as the Cayman turtle and an octopus were there along with a mythical Cayman mermaid. I always loved the idea of mermaids. That change is reflected in the selling of the work as well. My best accounts are in Hawaii, the Caribbean, and Florida. I was contacted by a store in Grand Cayman called 24 Cayman; they wanted me to do smaller fish pieces and shells. Before I knew, I had this rapidly growing line. Surprisingly enough, she adds, even in the midwest, it sells.
Windows themselves, rather than what you see from them, are the very source of inspiration for Florida-based enamelist James Carter. What is going on behind these blinds and shutters? he questions. In his work, he creates windows for the viewer. A lot of these buildings in New Orleans and Florida look shabby, deserted, but inside they are beautiful. The frames on his work come from a very different source: the eight years he spent as a merchant marine. I am getting a lot of inspiration from my past when I went to sea, when I was a pipe fitter, working in the engine room. I have taken industrial tools, rivets, and tried to compress these humongous items into a small scale."
PALETTE PLEASING. Color -- the sheer joy of working with such a rich palette -- certainly was one of the key elements drawing these diverse artists to the medium of cloisonné. And yet finding colors that would give consistent results was an almost insurmountable problem. Enamelists use so little material in their work, they have very little clout with their suppliers, and so have little leverage in order to insist upon color consistency from one batch of glass to the other. Inconsistencies that only show up at the moment of firing the piece in the kiln meant frustrating and time-consuming experiments. Rae ranks the most dramatic change in her work the moment when, she says, I discovered Japanese enamels. They're consistent and the color range is so sophisticated. I had an instant solving of technical nightmares that used to follow me around. The problems disappeared.
True to the nature of the enamelist, for whom attention to detail is as important as breathing, when Rae was offered a chance to get her first enamels from Japan, she asked for a few ounces of every color. I got a couple of hundred colors and did test plates on all of them. I was shocked and delighted with them. The results are visible in the subtle blues and greens of the ocean, the colors of the shells and the fish. The finished look of cloisonné depends on more than just the patient application of multiple layers of color; enamelists also work the surface of the metal that underlies all enamel work in order to change the appearance of the color. Colette says, I etch or engrave the metal surface so that the enamel bites in; it's more refractive. Cutting into the metal puts the cloisonné enamelist on the edge of the technique known as basse taille, a French expression that means shallow cut. It can be basse taille, Colette adds, depending on what I want to show underneath. If I want it to be glittery, I may cut into the whole piece. Then I can lay down foils and opaque enamels over one section. It's easier to cut the whole thing and then cover parts of it up. The point is to get the refractive quality. It depends on how deep or how light I want it to be. I have been doing this as long as I have been doing enameling. The trick, she adds, is having it come out looking like I wanted it to. I always have an idea of how I want it to end up. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't. It's a combination of the kiln and the quality of the enamel and the foil. When these hit the kiln they may change in ways you don't want. Sometimes it's in ways you like. Sometimes accidents are wonderful; otherwise you find yourself in a rote way of work. 'Rote' is a word that one cannot imagine being applied to Colette's work.
Basse taille is also on Marilyn Druin's mind when she works. She explains the two techniques in terms of how the jeweler affects the surface of the metal beneath the enamel. I like lines; I have a defined line with cloisonné. At a certain point, when you are designing with lines, you are designing across the surface. With basse taille, you engrave the surface, break the surface, and then use layers of color. Designing from the bottom up, you have developed these pools you can look into. You are seeing into it, it's three-dimensional. All my most recent work has been a combination of basse taille and cloisonné. ANCIENT HISTORY. Like virtually all jewelry-making techniques, cloisonné has an ancient history. And, like those other techniques, the method has scarcely changed over the millennia. The permanence of it was part of the attraction for Druin. I love the history of it, this feeling you have a heritage, a continuity. The techniques existed since the 13th century B.C. The evidence of that are some rings made in Cyprus during that era, their survival testimony to the medium's durability.
That durability is all the more astonishing when one considers that enamel is simply (if one can use that word here) glass powders that have been baked in a kiln until they melt and fuse to the metal support. Subsequent layers fuse on top of each other until the desired color is achieved. In cloisonné, tiny wires are painstakingly bent and shaped into cloisons (cells, in French) that separate the colors and create the design. The subtle variations achieved belie this rigid framework and are the expression of the true genius of the cloisonné enamelist. For Colette, the appeal of history didn't come into play at all. What the medium could do is what attracted me. It was color; I was always interested in color. Otherwise, I would never have become a jeweler. And how much the poorer we would be if all Colette did was her oil paintings -- paintings that are now at the heart of her enamel work. I am painting almost full time. The enamel must be something that I am painting. The painting has my focus, the enamel comes now when I have the strength to do it. Painting allowed her to continue to work; the enamel work is so difficult it was simply wearing her out. The physical demands of the medium, the intensity of the work, are problems all the jewelers must face. Colette is mindful of the price some jewelers pay to continue to work: Margaret Seeler, the 'grandmother of cloisonné' was a teacher; most of us learned through her books and then experimenting. She said, 'Be careful of your body; this is not kind to the body.' You get eye problems. None of us knew our eyes would suffer; we get migraine headaches. You have to honor yourself and that's not easy to do when you are trying to make a living. There's someone prodding you on: pay the mortgage, pay the rent, a cruel, unforgiving taskmaster. Then you realize the taskmaster is you. Her answer was to go back to her first love, painting, and reduce the amount of cloisonné she does. She restricts herself almost entirely to brooches whose shape most clearly echoes that of her paintings.
For Rae, it was a question of eyesight: My eyes changed overnight. I am now wearing four-times magnification. I just discovered a new microscope and now I will be able to continue to work. These are not old people we are talking about, just people who have passed their 40th birthday and that moment that comes to nearly all of us when the reading light we've been using suddenly isn't quite bright enough and the typeface in the newspaper suddenly isn't quite large enough. For jewelers, especially those who work in cloisonné, the change in eyesight can threaten the ability to make a living doing the work they truly love.
ENAMEL EVOLUTION. As artists, the cloisonné enamelists continue to evolve in their choice of colors and imagery. Carter finds his work is getting bigger: Big bracelets, big sets of beads, big brooches. I want to make it like African jewelry, but that's not practical in the west. I like my work being bigger and I can get more image on it. At the same time, Carter says, I am starting to move away from transparents, getting away from the lushness of the colors. I think that's what draws people in. People zero in on the color; it looks like candy, and edible. I'm moving toward grisaille [monochromatic enamel work, with shades of gray overlaying a white background] and opalescence, concentrating on the image, what you are trying to say, not just pure color. I want people who can see the work. Although Rae's colors are already vivid and often gemlike, she uses gemstones to highlight and accent the designs. I have started using more expensive stones, mainly fancy sapphires. I realized that my customers are so special, the price of my pieces didn't seem to be much of an object. I don't have price resistance. I use expensive, luscious sapphires. People appreciated that the stone went so well with the piece. Another change was in the scale of the work. Rae used to restrict her design imagery according to the size of the piece. On the smaller pieces I used to think I couldn't spend the time, 20 to 30 hours on a piece that was only 1-1/2". I decided to do tiny, intricate things where you have as much detail and care. For many customers, she finds, the little intricate pieces are more wearable.
These four artists are among a small group of brilliant jewelers working in this demanding medium. Each has a different vision, a way of putting demands on the quality of the work. The difficulty of the technique is an accepted part of the daily effort. Druin puts more time into her work as the years go by. I just keep finding techniques that make it more time-consuming. But along with the demands come new joys. Recently, she began a series of collaborative works with Michael Good, proponent of a revolutionary new metalworking technique known as anticlastic raising. (The technique involves hammering a sheet of metal until it curls up into the desired shape.) Together, they create objects that combine both techniques. Visually, we have the same aesthetic. Working on bowls and other objects allows her to expand her vision to a larger scale and then reduce it again to the small scale of jewelry. It is all a joyful challenge, never a chore. Nothing is difficult when you know how to do it. |
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