20th Century Jewellery: the Brooch

English (designer(s) unknown)

A Devilish Stickpin

circa 1900

(carved labradorite (head), enamel, ruby and gold)

     A delicate masterpiece. Its amount of detail is just enough to convey a playful kind of evil. Whether stuck through one's hat, breast pocket or foulard, it will grab the attention of both the wearer and the on-looker despite it reaching no more than 70 millimetres in length. It acts to 'peep' out of whatever material it clings to, like a mischievous little spy intent on revenge - rather like the devil, actually. The idea of big size - its dominance of space or its apparent 'control' - does not always inspire terror or fear. As seen with this little carved character, it is moreso the unobtrusive thing, that which remains unseen or just a bit too quiet, that inspires the most panic.

     More realistically, however, it is not the cunning face that inspires the panic of this piece, but rather its value estimated to nearly 3'600 GBP by Wartski (London). That, at least, makes one stare at this stickpin with a mixture of shock and wonder.

Julius Meinl (Austrian Firm)

Julius Meinl (Austrian firm, est. 1862)

Praline Box (Pappschachtel)

circa early twentieth century (?)

     An Austrian paper box vibrantly decorated with festive Russian motifs - all for the sake of pralines. What a wonder this would have been to any person opening it for the first time (and for those to come)! Or maybe, due to so much of the current rubbish filling the shelves of even the most prestigious sweet shops today, it only seems like this Julius Meinl artefact is worth more visually than what the contemporary eye has become used to.

     Besides that thought, this cardboard box is still a work entirely of its own no matter what its age. The looker is invited into at least three layers of experience: the visual, the textural and the savoury. First one must digest the colours and shapes of the illustration. Maybe a celebration of the coming of Spring, with flowers blooming from the snow under a warm sky specked with plump clouds, it brings to mind everything but chocolate. However, with a bit of imagination, one could treat this box as an actual Easter Egg à la russe, with its prominent colour being red (to represent the blood of Christ) and its element of song felt through the movement of its overall design as well as through the two balalaikas. The experience then continues into pulling open the lid of the box (the texture must be a bit grainy considering the earlier styles of printing) onto the actual smelling and tasting of the treats (once) within. As rich as it is already, consider the additional side-illustrations of chequered onions and striped turrets against darker skies of dusk.

Claude Lalanne

Claude Lalanne

La Pomme Bouche

circa 1975
(gilt bronze)

     Simultaneously humorous and disturbing, this apple looks surreal. It seems to constantly morph back and forth between its fruity side and its human side, like an undecided shapeshifter. In fact, is it an apple with a human mouth, or is it an eye-less, nose-less human with an apple head? 

     Perhaps plucked directly from Magritte’s The Son of Man (circa 1964), the idea of pairing humankind with nature brings to light a similar question as that of the chicken and the egg: though undoubtedly related, which came first? Was humankind really borne from nature, or is humankind the (or at least one of the) reason(s) for which nature exists in the first place? Without nature, would woman and man cease to exist? And without woman and man, would nature perish or weaken in some way? Questions as these always bear more of the same, and eventually those doing the questioning find themselves caught in a circle of complexity often riddled with the redundant and the inexplicable, all with a strange sense of clarity. But choosing to remain ignorant or uncurious with the fear of being tangled in one’s own web of natural confusion is foolish. Two facts to realise and to accept as solid truths are that without questions there are no answers, and that when lost, always return to simplicity. 

     That said, which stage of thought could Lalanne’s so-called apple represent? That where, after a long and tiresome self-orientated debate, it has reached its personal level of clarity? Or that where it has become so muddled within its own never-ending labyrinth of questions that it no longer recalls its original form? In which case - is it really only an apple with a mouth?

19th Century Metalwork: the Mould

Austrian or German (maker(s) unknown)

Chocolate Mould (?)

circa 1890 to early twentieth century

(aluminium)

     If you can, imagine yourself as a person in the late nineteenth century. You are in fin-de-siècle Vienna, or in a modest town or a mountain village and winter is near. The leaves of autumn are scattered and pasted on the pavements you walk along every day to and from your university or work, or anything. For some reason, whether out of habit or for an occasion, you choose to step into Charlie of Willy Wonka's very own shoes (though Roald Dahl's story has yet to be published nearly seventy years on) and buy yourself a bar of chocolate.

     The kiosk from which you buy it, the very same from which you sometimes buy le Figaro or a pack of Samum's Zigarettenpapier, momentarily fades into the background as you slowly peel back the wrapping paper. You feel its waxy texture, smell its first hint of bitterness - you lose yourself entirely in this small slab. Its face is a vignette of current life as you know it, held in your palm, showing the recent invention of automobiles, the evolving fashions for both men and women and the new luxury (only for those who are rich, though) of being able to visit the country-side at ease without the hassel of public transport. Its process of creation is also a testimony to the recent discovery of aluminium in the 1830s and, most important of all, the bar of chocolate (which was probably wrapped individually rather than in a set) serves as the earliest form of a cheap, accessible-to-all advertisment for the progress of human-kind. It emulates the dawn of the coming industial revolution. Mass production will fade the details and originality will be lost (though not for long) to a prevailing need of quantity over quality. One mould, hundreds of chocolate faces.