RARE AND DELICATE WORK IN SILVER AND SEMI-PRECIOUS STONES DONE AFTER THE OLD ARMENIAN FASHION
Nearly everyone who has a leaning toward some sort of work in what are called the artistic crafts has the temptation at one time or another to try his hand at jewelry. A fascination that is almost irresistible lies in the making of beautiful things out of the lesser metals and what are called the semi-precious stones, for in these are found possibilities for artistic expression that seem far to exceed anything that can be done with gold and the more valuable gems. But with only a few exceptions the work of these amateur craftsmen and artists who have a fancy for carrying out their designs in metal shows a certain amount of crudity and the designs are, as a rule, either commonplace or are tortured into some extravagant form such as we have learned to associate with the later efforts of the school of L’Art Nou'ueau. There are now hosts of more or less feeble imitators of Lalique, and the first impression gained from seeing examples of arts and crafts jewelry at an exhibition is that of weak and purposeless design in the great majority of the pieces, even while the combinations of metals and semiprecious stones show a color sense that at times is marvelous.
It is interesting to see the development in this country of a taste for real ornament,—not merely things of great value that add to the wealth of the possessor, but ornaments that have little value other than their beauty and that are within the reach of all the people. But as yet we lack in the simple, straightforward use of designs founded upon natural forms. We either interpret the original form too literally or else, in an attempt at originality, torture it into some fantastic shape that merely suggests an effort to depict the abnormal. We want to arrive at a striking result too quickly. We have not the patience, skill and judgment in craftsmanship as yet that give us an almost instinctive knowledge of the right setting for a stone, the right use of a metal and the simplest and most direct application of a natural form to the principles of design. In time we may arrive at this point,—for the American tendency is to grasp an idea quickly and apply it at once to the doing of what we want done,—but it will be many a day before we reach the skill of hand and the sure knowledge of design, color and form that we find among the craftsmen of the East, with their inherited skill, their infinite patience and their keen perception of beauty and fitness.
Anyone who cares to compare the workmanship of the Oriental with that of Western jewel workers, either amateur or professional, would be well repaid by a visit to the workshop of J. Zado Noorian, where in a little back room a group of Armenian craftsmen make all the things that are for sale in the modest shop in front. It is true that this shop is on Fifth Avenue, but it is so unobtrusive that one might easily go past without seeing it, for in front it looks in no way different from numbers of other shops where Oriental jewelry of one sort or another is displayed. At first sight you might think that the cases, full of quaint ornaments of old Baltic Sea amber, deep tinted coral, pale green amazonite, rose quartz, pale yellow topaz and the like, all set in wonderful filigree work of old gray silver or dull gold, were those of some collector of old Oriental jewelry, for they have more the seeming of an unusually interesting collection in some museum, than of a merchant’s stock in trade. But go through to the back room and you seem to be in another country and another age. There are long benches there heaped with odds and ends of metal, beautiful stones lying about like pebbles and implements that, to our eyes, look strangely primitive. In the middle of the room is the “furnace,”—a block of cement about two feet square and hollowed in the center to hold a handful of charcoal. This is set upon a square tin oil-can cut down a little and ventilated to allow a draught to reach the charcoal. The oil-can is the only modern thing about the quaint contrivance; all the rest, including the little clay crucibles and the bellows, made of a whole goatskin with the legs and hair left on, are just the same as have been used by Oriental jewelers for a thousand years or so. The men working there, although they have none of them passed middle age, have the same air of belonging to the artist-artisans of an older time, and perhaps this is because they were literally born jewelers.
Mr. Noorian himself will tell you that in his country all the crafts are hereditary; that his own family have been jewel-workers for over fifteen hundred years and that not on one side of the house alone but on both, for in his country a jeweler may marry only a jeweler’s daughter. All the jewelers live and work in one part of the city that is set apart for them and that is known as the jeweler’s quarter. Therefore, he himself and all the men who work in his shop have an hereditary aptitude for this craft. As he says: “We hardly need to learn the work, for our hands are fitted to the tools from the time we are born. When we come to take them up for our own work, it is like a second nature."
In a sense, the designs also are hereditary. The Oriental jewelers never make a drawing, but simply apply to the piece of work in mind their knowledge of certain designs founded originally upon natural forms and used since time immemorial. If a customer comes to one of these jewelers and wants a ring, for example, be either brings with him the stone he desires to have set, or selects one from the stock of the jeweler. No drawing of the setting is shown to him. He may indicate that he desires this style or that, but that is all. The jeweler is supposed to know his work, and he takes his measurements and makes the piece from a design that he works out in the metal as he goes along.
These ancient designs that may be called the basis of Oriental ornamentation are primitive, but interesting to a degree, and for the most part they are known by the names of the original objects from which they were conventionalized, as, for example, the lentil, robin’s nest, wheat, and palm leaf. The robin’s nest is a round, open filigree design such as might easily have been suggested by the round shape and loose weave of a nest made of grass and twigs. The wheat design, which is much used for the links of a chain, is conventionalized from the shape of a grain of wheat, and the same applies to the flattened form of the lentil.
The origin of the palm leaf, as Mr. Noorian explains it, is perhaps the most interesting of all. It seems that many generations ago some workmen were building a wall; after they had finished they realized that a certain space looked too plain and barren and that some ornament was imperatively needed. Therefore, the master craftsman doubled up his fist, dipped the side of his hand in some pigment and pressed it against the wall. The result was a splotch of color of a shape bearing some distant resemblance to a palm leaf, and this became one of the accepted designs for ornament of all descriptions. An excellent example of it is seen on the first page of illustrations,—in the cloak clasp shown in the lower left hand corner.
They have an odd way of determining values in the Orient, and yet it seems to be a fairly good method of arriving at a just estimate of the cost of a piece of jewelry. “Jewels of gold and jewels of silver” are always sold by weight, so much being allowed for the metal and so much for workmanship on each drachm. If the metal be gold, the workmanship costs double, although the design may be the same as that used for silver. The charge for workmanship varies according to the design. A chain made in the "Stromboli" design, which consists of simple links so intertwisted as to form a round chain, costs the price of the silver and four cents a drachm for workmanship. For a design like the wheat, it would be perhaps ten cents; and for the more intricate designs, such as the lentil or the robin’s nest, the price might go as high as fifteen cents a drachm for the workmanship alone. This simple method fixes the standard of value beyond question. The intrinsic value, of course, lies in the silver, but the value of the workmanship is definitely understood and everybody conforms to it. The traveler who goes to the jewelers’ quarter in any Eastern city is, of course, legitimate prey; but the native, who never asks how much an article costs, but has it weighed and then pays the standard price per drachm, knows as well as the merchant what he ought to pay and the merchant seldom asks more.
But the old methods are changing, as the old times pass into history even in the Orient. Some of the most beautiful pieces of workmanship Mr. Noorian has in his possession are old pieces that he bought at auction for a mere trifle during a visit to his native land, because the showy modern jewelry made in France or England is now considered to be much more “up-to-date” than the beautiful old pieces. Therefore, heirlooms are auctioned off in lots in the market-place, and bracelets, necklaces, brooches and pendants of the most exquisite workmanship may be had for hardly the cost of the metal. Even the workmen in the old country are losing their skill, for their trade is vanishing and it is one of the penalties paid for the “advance of civilization” in this commercial age that the best of the artist-artisans are dying out all over the world. Fortunately, as the East is beginning to cast aside its ancient ornaments as old-fashioned and of little value, the West welcomes them eagerly and finds in them the basis for many a collection of beautiful things. Also a study of them is a constant inspiration to the modern worker in arts and crafts, and so possibly the tide may yet turn with the reviving love of beauty; and quickness and cheapness of production on the one hand, or crude efforts at originality on the other, may yet give way before a genuine appreciation of the workmanship which results only from patience and a real love of the work.
The illustrations we show here give but a faint idea of the color effect of the combination of the semi-precious stones with gray or yellowed silver, or of the exceeding delicacy of the metal work; but they serve to give some idea of the design and form.
On the first page the two long sections of chain that frame the group are in the robin’s nest design, which is made of fine silver wire twisted with infinite patience and skill into tiny whorls in which are placed minute beads or “shots” of silver. The suggestion of the robin’s nest is plain and each link of the chain is formed of two of these nests, so that it is the same on both sides and has the effect of being round. This same robin’s nest design is used in the wide gold filigree necklace with the deep points, and the necessary color is obtained by setting the dull yellow gold with pale clouded coral beads, pink and green tourmalines and blue and pink sapphires in pale watery tones. The drops are of these sapphires and the fringe that edges the points is made of tiny gold beads.
The necklace just below shows a silver chain of the wheat design set with buttons of pale green jade and silver beads. In the center of each jade button is a robin's nest of silver and at the back of each is a silver wheel. The effect of this may be seen by looking at the button which is turned over to show this silver backing. The pendants are of carved jade. The third necklace is of silver gilt, with a chain in the wheat design, set with pink and blue sapphires, garnets and tourmalines in varying shades of dull rose, deep red, gray, watery blue and pure white. The pendant is an adaptation of the palm leaf design and the color effect of the whole is wonderfully beautiful. The comb is decorated with gold filigree and jade buttons. The cloak clasp, which shows the pure palm leaf design, is of silver filigree set with lapis lazuli, and the belt buckle is of green malachite set in very dark silver, the filigree work showing in high relief against a background that is almost black and is well hammered down.
The rings shown on this page are of amethyst, turquoise and Chinese jade, the two former set in silver and the latter in dull gold with a ring of tiny pearls around the stone. Of the two small brooches, the one with the oblong stone is of silver and amethyst and the other an Oriental cat’seye colored like a gray storm cloud and set in dark gray silver.
The principal piece on the second page is the necklace shown at the top. This is made of old Italian coral and silver filigree; each coral bead is capped at both ends with filigree that fits over the bead like the cup of an acorn, and the smaller beads between are of filigree. The necklace at the lower left-hand corner is of silver, with a pendant made of two wonderful pink tourmalines that show rose and violet shadings and a sparkle as if the stones had been shattered inside, leaving the surface perfectly smooth and clear. The other necklace has a pendant made of an Egyptian amulet and the small square beads set at intervals in the filigree chain are of the same glazed clay of dull greenish blue. The pendant swings from a central ornament of silver filigree made in the lotus design.
The two bracelets at the top of this page are interesting. The broad one is meant to be worn high on the arm and is made of fine and elaborate filigree work set with old coral very deep and rich in color. The flexible bracelet is set with pale yellow topaz, the stones connected with a double chain of gray silver wrought in the lentil design. This bracelet is made so that it will fit any part of the wrist and the clasp is merely a topaz that slips through a silver ring. The fob is made of chains of silver in the wheat design, linked together to form a band after the fashion so often seen in the old Oriental bracelets and the stones used are very dark blue lapis lazuli and old Italian coral,—a delightful color combination.
The pendants are equally characteristic. Two of those seen near the bottom of the page suggest the Egyptian in design. The square fringe is made of silver filigree and the stones are lapis lazuli. The other pendants are of amazonite, turquoise, lapis lazuli, carnelian and amethyst, all set in the same delicate filigree; and the brooches show the same combinations.
Although these pieces in detail of workmanship are an exact replica of the old work, they are all made in the little workshop where metals and stones are combined with a knowledge so sure that it seems almost instinctive. Each stone has precisely the right setting to give it its full value; or, if the chief beauty of the piece lies in the workmanship and not in the jewel, the stone is skilfully subordinated so that it sinks into its proper place in the composition.
And another point in which the spirit of the old times has remained unchanged is in the price of these quaint old-world ornaments. Whether it is due to the fact that the Oriental method of measuring values has become so ingrained that it is impossible to get far away from it, or whether it is that the best kind of business sense adjusts values on a basis where they will be likely to stand, the cost of these things is remarkably small, so small as to suggest that the Armenian method of fixing a valuation is at the bottom of it after all. The master craftsman himself will tell you that it is not, and will show you from his strong box wonderful old chain bracelets and Oriental ornaments which were bought, as we have said, for a song in some Eastern auction sale, saying that the reason you can afford the things he makes is because these are divided and made the basis of ornaments more suited to Western taste, so that the initial cost of workmanship is not so great. Besides, like the craftsman of old, he makes things directly for the people who are to use them.
Source: The Craftsman - 1909
Trev.