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One of my New Year's resolutions has been to dig deep into my trove of treasures, and to pull out those things I've coveted but held back for something 'special.' Turning 50 in January has brought home what I knew intuitively all along:
It's all special.
So out comes one such piece ready for transforming:
An 1890's swivel locket by Pinchbeck. I'm determined to use the original ambrotype portrait within as part of the final piece.
Ambrotypes are emulsion on glass, and must be backed with black for the image to be seen as a positive.
Checking out the swivel action.
The missing side, lost to time.
Out comes the ambrotype... This one is indeed unique as it was hand-colored beautifully and subtly.
The black paint is scratched off the back of the glass, thereby making all parts of the image that would be black become transparent.
Leaving a bit of black behind the face to keep it readable from the front.
My title for the piece is now chosen and I fit it to the oval.
As these brooches were used as mourning pieces, usually enclosing hair of a loved one, I decide to plait a waxed-linen border around the image.
Turning my attention to the empty side, I settle on a spectacular gilt book cover from the early 1800's as my palette.
Cut and edge-painted, I then burrow two recesses to hold jewels.
Gorgeous opals peer out.
A resin lens is prepared and attached.
A brilliantly colored lithograph lends me the face to be seen under the lens.
Almost ready to attach.
First the back must be prepared, as I'll be able to see through the ambrotype to this side of the book cover. I choose some exquisite robe detailing from an 1830 engraving. This texture will reveal itself as the jacket detail of the photo portrait once it's in place.
To secure the glass ambrotype in place, I use more of the thick engraving paper as a 'washer' - this was a practice actually used during the period.
I'll have a shallow space for material to move behind the photo image. I choose to fill this space with tiny tourmalines and mustard seeds.
The edges of the book cover, which are beautifully dense cardboard, are hammered hard to round off the edges, giving the panel a finished quality I'm delighted with.
The panels all in place, the last step is to embellish the exterior frame of the brooch. I choose more of the crimson waxed linen thread, and it imbues the piece with a crude hand-hewn aura.
Now, if you'll saunter over and view the finished piece here.
Or, if you're feeling your oats, you can see how much it costs to wear it yourself here.
Thank you so much for looking and for your feedback below!
Keith
Last time we sat down together I was ready to create a wooden body for the inside of the fork's 'bowl.'
Getting roughed out.
A large hole is marked and two points where I will recess the wood so the fork will 'set' some dichroic glass beads I'd like to use.
After that is prepped, I mark out where I'll be able to peek through the fork tines.
Now turning back to the fork, I create lateral piercings to accommodate two more of Mira's teeth.
These teeth are set in place as well as the glass beads.
The wood is now painted a deep brown.
My hope here is to build a chamber that will contain several more of my daughter's teeth, while having an active rear view. This lens with plated brass housing is almost pitched back in the pile when I spot an uncanny fit that keeps it in play:
This small pocket watch face slots inside the lens assembly as if it were made for it.
Now the fitting is ground down save for three small tabs which will prong into the wood body.
The lens fitting is sealed to make it watertight, and a beautiful 1860's color lithograph becomes the face of the face, as it were.
A nest of teeth are affixed in place with resin. They will next be completely encased in the resin once all elements are together and ready.
One of my resin lenses is made for the hole in the fork, and sea urchin spines are arrayed around it. These spines will share the resin bath with the teeth.
A last minute decision is made - as the resin is setting in the lens fitting, I apply pressure the center of the crystal, shattering it, but the lens remains in place.
Next an engraving is selected that will peer out from the fork's tines.
The hands, holding a mask, become the image surrounding the watch face on the back of the piece.
An inscription is made and tiny opal set...
...and keys are riveted to some beautiful antique green elastic cord.
My wild-card choice is to use waxed linen thread between the pendant and cord. This last shot of color and texture finishes the piece out.
To view the finished piece and to see Mira enjoying it:
http://www.lobue-art.com/lifes_record.html
See you next week for a piece that, even by my standards, is over the top!
Keith
Welcome back! Work continues on this unusual structure, which as you can see, now sports a name...
To mount an attachment to the left side of my scissor handle, I need to anneal the steel first, as it is quite hardened tool steel.
This beautiful and very old glass-topped pin is chosen as my attachment. I've owned this little object for twenty-five years. Feels nice to bring it to bear now.
Drilled through and inserted into the scissor. I love the angle.
The pin is curled around very slowly and is now a useable connection to the pendant.
To make tiny eye-pins to attach chains to my mirror structure, I carve little 'hand-wrought' style nails.
Chains are added and the general form works for me. It has a great movement.
Attention turns now to the wooden mirror itself.
The silvered backing is selectively removed to allow my imagery to be framed by the mirror surface.
The 'paddle' end is pierced to allow a two-sided visual.
I select as a facial image an engraving of 19th-century British philosopher Jeremy Bentham. A fascinating man in his own right, but memorable for many years to me for his request that his body be dissected and then presented as an 'Auto-Icon', where it sits today. You can read all about him here and see an interactive 360˚ view of the Auto-Icon here.
If I've been able to lure you back from your macabre detour, the mirror is prepped.
The title for the piece is now chosen, as I've got a pretty rounded-out vision of what is coming together. 'CANTO I.'
Preparing the back of the mirror 'stack', here choosing an early 19th-century patent-application engraving and adding my signature to be seen from the back of the piece.
Mica is cut as the back window of the stack.
As the stack of glass, image and mica come together, I make one of those wild-card decisions that make me trust my intuition.
The mirror is lightly scored and cracked in two places. To my delight, the tiny fragments of silver dot the area under the eye like tears.
Time to drop the mirror structure into the bezel of brass.
The tabs are delicately pushed over the wood, with a thick pad of felt underneath to protect the glass elements as well as the wood, which is quite brittle with age.
The pendant portion of the piece is now, except for one detail I'm about to add, complete.
Join me one more time as I work out a typically unorthodox method for hanging the pendant. Thanks for joining me!
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