Standing On History
January 8, 2010
I have just finished reading Kristelle Plimmer’s Family Jewels: The Theory and Practice of Studio Jewellery in New Zealand, 1900-1945. As you might have guessed from the title, this is Plimmer’s MA thesis, completed at Victoria University in 2007. Supervised by Roger Blackley and Ann Calhoun, Plimmer’s entertaining and well-written text is the story of Arts and Crafts jewellery in Aotearoa, told through the case study of Wellington Technical College and six jewellers working during that period.
In her abstract Plimmer writes:
The collection of studio jewellery and art metalwork by public institutions and private persons is scrutinised and a thesis is postulated: that much of the work produced by the studio jewellers of that time is held in private collections, on the basis of sentiment, rather than on an appreciation of its true worth. The jewellers and art metalworkers who produced the work are largely forgotten and their work unrecognised, except where it is held by the families of the makers. The reasons for this lack of recognition are speculated upon. The thesis is confirmed when someone stands on a pair of earrings.
That last bit is a good example of Plimmer’s sly sense of humour, which I am sure any reader of this thesis will warmly welcome.
There is much to like here. As well as filling in a part of local jewellery history that has been missing from our record of studio jewellery in Aotearoa, Plimmer combines academic research and speculation with a maker’s awareness and engagement with the jewellery itself. Indeed, this is probably the most interesting part of the thesis, or at least the aspect that I found both surprising and enriching. Here, for example, is Plimmer writing about a paua and sterling silver tie pin by Alfred Atkinson:
The back of the brooch is always the side of most interest to jewellers – the findings, a collective term for the working parts of an item of jewellery, are where the true craftsperson is revealed. Alfred’s finding, in this instance, is perfectly functional but not exquisite. There are shadows at the base of the book and the pivot that speak of more filling and sanding being needed to remove the last of the excess solder. The hook and pivot are made of brass. In the centre there is a bar of sterling silver that has been milled and hammered to flatten it from the round or square to the rectangular. One can discern a slight curve to the centre of this bar, where the metal is thinner than at the edges. The curve was created by the hammering that was done to spread the bar wider; if the hammer blows are even slightly off-centre, the metal expands more on the side that is being hit and contracts on the other edge. This creates a curve in the metal. The silver bar has two “wings”, small semi-circular pieces of silver plate, attached by solder with, notably, the excess filed and sanded into a sweeping curve that flows seamlessly to the bar. The wings form a solid platform that supports the elephant and allows it to be riveted to the bar that holds the mechanism. Paua, indeed all stone, bone and shell, cannot be soldered – the heat cracks the stone or burns the shell, hence the need for a cold form of connection and a rivet is one of the simplest methods. Care needs to be taken however, as paua is fragile and can easily crack or shatter if the artist hammers the rivet too firmly.
Plimmer examines the careers of Alfred Atkinson, Louisa Atkinson, Mollie Atkinson, Zelda Paul, Peggy Proffitt and Edith Morris, in the process adding to Ann Calhoun’s previous work about the Arts and Crafts movement in New Zealand craft. Given the paucity of historical research on jewellery in Aotearoa, I would highly recommend Plimmer’s Family Jewels, and extend to her my (belated) congratulations on a thesis well proven.
