Colored golds are becoming popular mediums in the jewelry industry; Mattioli’s rich chocolate gold pieces in the form of the Cacao line – a collection of bracelets and necklaces blended with brown/champagne diamonds looks magnificent + I think modern women will like it because of its otherness + wearable art concept.
Useful link:
www.mattioligioielli.it
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Diamond Trade In Dubai
According to the latest statistics released by the Dubai Diamond Exchange, Dubai’s total diamond trade increased by 53% in 2007 at US$11.23 billion + rough diamond trade, a 29% increase at US$6.41 billion + Dubai has also achieved the status of a mature diamond center/international hub/regional distribution center/local + regional consumer market + more rough diamonds are coming directly from producing countries, and more polished diamonds from established diamond centers like Bombay and Antwerp because of its superb business infrastructure + growing confidence in Dubai.
Useful link:
www.dde.ae
Useful link:
www.dde.ae
Out Of Control
The book Out of Control: The New Biology of Machines, Social Systems, & the Economic World by Kevin Kelly introduces the concept of the 'hive mind' + thought provoking ideas and ways of thinking + inspiring reflections on convergence of different faculties of knowledge + the impact + I liked it.
Useful link:
www.kk.org
Useful link:
www.kk.org
The Indecisive Image
Eric Bryant writes about a new wave photographers embracing abstract photography + other viewpoints @ http://artnewsonline.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=2457
The New World
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
2. Made In U.S.A
The trade of the jeweler is perhaps more sensitive than any other to the alternating waves of depression and prosperity. With every war and business panic it suffered then as now. Nevertheless, jewelry shops continued to multiply and find place in the various cities of the United States.
By 1800 or thereabouts, a shop in Providence, Rhode Island, offered a display of ‘Filled Work.’ It was an inexpensive form of jewelry in which a little gold was made to go a long way. The face of the ornament was stamped from a thin strip of gold; its back from another thin strip of inferior quality. The two parts, being put together, formed a hollow shell which was then filled with baser metal. This type of jewelry became popular with the less wealthy.
As for the rich, they still imported most of their fashions and their jewelry from abroad. The Greek influence which during the early eighteen hundreds so greatly shaped the styles of women’s clothes in Europe, crossed the sea and reached America. Our stylish great-great-grandmothers—then girls of the period—outdid the Greeks. They dipped their muslin dresses in water and wrung them out before putting them on, so that the dampened material would cling in classic folds. And for ornament, of course, the classic cameo and intaglio were the appropriate jewels.
By 1830, fashion had flown to the opposite extreme. Full skirts and puffed sleeves made a new silhouette but still the ladies wore their cameos.
During the last quarter of the eighteenth century much jewelry had been made with an eye to its emotional appeal—a tendency which lasted well into the nineteenth century. It was an era of romanticism and sentimentalism that held sway over the ways and manners of society and was reflected in the current jewelry. Posy rings with their inscribed doggerels were still going strong. But possibly even more highly favored than the cheerful posy ring was the dismal jewelry of grief. It typified in such convenient form the genteel sentiments of piety and sadness. Sentimental melancholy for its own sake stood as the hallmark of gentility and refinements. You could even assume the virtue if you had it not by wearing mourning jewelry. Youth might upon occasion afford to be gay, but the ‘heart bowed down by weight of woe’ was a characteristic note in popular music and fiction, and seems to have held more glamor than it does today.
At this time came the full flowering of that remarkable development known as ‘hair work’. Rings, lockets, brooches, bracelets, watchchains, scarfpins—almost any form of jewelry was likely to include human hair most ingeniously introduced one way or another into its design. Sometimes the hair was that of a living person, but more often that of some dear departed.
A lock of hair under crystal might be mounted in a ring, brooch, or locket. That was the most obvious and simple method of use. But it took skill and craftsmanship to create one of those amazing Allegories of Grief so profoundly esteemed by our great-great-grandparents. It was a curious attitudinizing of sentiment which impelled the gently bred to incite and stimulate their emotions in ways which we of today cannot but see as tragi-comic.
The standardized allegory, with slight variations of design, depicts a weeping female drooping, all disconsolate, over a large tomb; or perhaps she languishes amid a number of funeral urns. A weeping willow tree emphasizes the downward sweep of all-consuming depression. Done in the larger sizes this admired design lents its note of cheer to the living room wall, while in miniature size with setting of gold, jet or seed pearl, in ring, brooch or locket it graced the person of the bereaved.
The New World (continued)
2. Made In U.S.A
The trade of the jeweler is perhaps more sensitive than any other to the alternating waves of depression and prosperity. With every war and business panic it suffered then as now. Nevertheless, jewelry shops continued to multiply and find place in the various cities of the United States.
By 1800 or thereabouts, a shop in Providence, Rhode Island, offered a display of ‘Filled Work.’ It was an inexpensive form of jewelry in which a little gold was made to go a long way. The face of the ornament was stamped from a thin strip of gold; its back from another thin strip of inferior quality. The two parts, being put together, formed a hollow shell which was then filled with baser metal. This type of jewelry became popular with the less wealthy.
As for the rich, they still imported most of their fashions and their jewelry from abroad. The Greek influence which during the early eighteen hundreds so greatly shaped the styles of women’s clothes in Europe, crossed the sea and reached America. Our stylish great-great-grandmothers—then girls of the period—outdid the Greeks. They dipped their muslin dresses in water and wrung them out before putting them on, so that the dampened material would cling in classic folds. And for ornament, of course, the classic cameo and intaglio were the appropriate jewels.
By 1830, fashion had flown to the opposite extreme. Full skirts and puffed sleeves made a new silhouette but still the ladies wore their cameos.
During the last quarter of the eighteenth century much jewelry had been made with an eye to its emotional appeal—a tendency which lasted well into the nineteenth century. It was an era of romanticism and sentimentalism that held sway over the ways and manners of society and was reflected in the current jewelry. Posy rings with their inscribed doggerels were still going strong. But possibly even more highly favored than the cheerful posy ring was the dismal jewelry of grief. It typified in such convenient form the genteel sentiments of piety and sadness. Sentimental melancholy for its own sake stood as the hallmark of gentility and refinements. You could even assume the virtue if you had it not by wearing mourning jewelry. Youth might upon occasion afford to be gay, but the ‘heart bowed down by weight of woe’ was a characteristic note in popular music and fiction, and seems to have held more glamor than it does today.
At this time came the full flowering of that remarkable development known as ‘hair work’. Rings, lockets, brooches, bracelets, watchchains, scarfpins—almost any form of jewelry was likely to include human hair most ingeniously introduced one way or another into its design. Sometimes the hair was that of a living person, but more often that of some dear departed.
A lock of hair under crystal might be mounted in a ring, brooch, or locket. That was the most obvious and simple method of use. But it took skill and craftsmanship to create one of those amazing Allegories of Grief so profoundly esteemed by our great-great-grandparents. It was a curious attitudinizing of sentiment which impelled the gently bred to incite and stimulate their emotions in ways which we of today cannot but see as tragi-comic.
The standardized allegory, with slight variations of design, depicts a weeping female drooping, all disconsolate, over a large tomb; or perhaps she languishes amid a number of funeral urns. A weeping willow tree emphasizes the downward sweep of all-consuming depression. Done in the larger sizes this admired design lents its note of cheer to the living room wall, while in miniature size with setting of gold, jet or seed pearl, in ring, brooch or locket it graced the person of the bereaved.
The New World (continued)
The Pre-Raphaelites
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
This shower of vituperation affected the fortunes of the brethren, and Woolner, who had unsuccessfully competed for a commission to execute a Wordsworth Memorial, abandoned sculpture for a time and set sail for the gold diggings in Australia. There eventually he returned to sculpture, and in later years he had a modest success in Australia and England with his portrait busts. Holman Hunt, who could not lean on his parents, as Millais and Rosetti could, had a desperate struggle with poverty, and was compelled to take on the job of washing and restoring the wall paintings by Rigaud (1659-1743) at Trinity House. Stephens was employed with Hunt on this work, and William Rossetti got a place in the Inland Revenue Office. Millais, though the most abused, was the best off of the band, for a dealer named Farrer had the courage to pay him £150 for his picture and showed his faith in the artist by pasting all the adverse criticisms on the back of the canvas. Late in the year a purchaser was found also for the picture by Hunt, who then abandoned his restoration, and set to work on his splendid picture ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona,’ now in the Birmingham Art Gallery. Millais at the same time began painting his ‘Woodman’s Daughter’, and in these pictures the artists obtained a greater brilliancy of color than they had yet secured by painting upon a wet white ground. They prided themselves on having rediscovered one of the secrets of the early Italian masters, and later on Hunt communicated the ‘secret’ to Madox Brown, whose pictures certainly gained much in luminosity and brightness of color immediately after 1851.
Rosetti had begun an oil painting of a subject from one of Browning’s poems, but he did not get it finished, so that Millais and Hunt alone had to sustain the renewed attack which was made when their pictures were exhibited in the Academy of 1851. In addition to ‘The Woodman’s Daughter,’ Millais exhibited ‘Mariana, or the Moated Grange’ and ‘The Return of the Dove to the Ark,’ and again he and Hunt were told that their paintings were ‘offensive and absurd productions,’ displaying nothing but ‘puerility,’ ‘uppishness,’ and ‘morbid infatuation.’ This year, however, they were not without defenders. William Rossetti had begun his career as an art critic and upheld Pre-Raphaelite aims and ideals in the columns of the Spectator. Still more important were two letters of chivalrous and whole-hearted appreciation which appeared in The Times, signed by ‘An Oxford Graduate,’ and everybody knew that the writer was the great John Ruskin. In the same year appeared a new volume of Modern Painters, in which Ruskin wrote of Millais and Homan Hunt:
Their works are, in finish of drawing and splendour of color, the best work in the Royal Academy, and I have great hope that they may become the foundation of a more earnest and able school of art than we have seen for centuries.
It is difficult to exaggerate the revulsion of feeling produced by Ruskin’s prouncements, for at that time he was almost a dictator of taste in England. Slowly the tide began to turn in favor of the brethren, but it was very nearly too late for Hunt. His picture returned to him unsold from the Academy, he was absolutely penniless and had nothing to tide him over until better times; indeed, he was on the point of abandoning painting and seeking his fortune as a sheep farmer in Australia when Millais and his parents came to the rescue. Millais ahd made a little money, and with his parent’s consent, he gave it to his comrade in order that he might make one more attempt. This generous help bound the two ‘Brothers’ still more closely together, and they spent the late summer and early autumn in the country near Surbiton, searching and backwaters of Thames to find just the right background for the picture of ‘Ophelia’, which Millais had decided to paint, and studying the meadows for the scene of Hunt’s crucial picture ‘The Hireling Shepherd’. But Hunt did not have to wait till this, perhaps his most perfect picture, was finished and exhibited before learning that the tide was turning; for while he and Millais were painting in the fields a letter was brought then announcing that the Liverpool Academy had awarded a prize of £50 to the painter of ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona.’
The Pre-Raphaelites (continued)
This shower of vituperation affected the fortunes of the brethren, and Woolner, who had unsuccessfully competed for a commission to execute a Wordsworth Memorial, abandoned sculpture for a time and set sail for the gold diggings in Australia. There eventually he returned to sculpture, and in later years he had a modest success in Australia and England with his portrait busts. Holman Hunt, who could not lean on his parents, as Millais and Rosetti could, had a desperate struggle with poverty, and was compelled to take on the job of washing and restoring the wall paintings by Rigaud (1659-1743) at Trinity House. Stephens was employed with Hunt on this work, and William Rossetti got a place in the Inland Revenue Office. Millais, though the most abused, was the best off of the band, for a dealer named Farrer had the courage to pay him £150 for his picture and showed his faith in the artist by pasting all the adverse criticisms on the back of the canvas. Late in the year a purchaser was found also for the picture by Hunt, who then abandoned his restoration, and set to work on his splendid picture ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona,’ now in the Birmingham Art Gallery. Millais at the same time began painting his ‘Woodman’s Daughter’, and in these pictures the artists obtained a greater brilliancy of color than they had yet secured by painting upon a wet white ground. They prided themselves on having rediscovered one of the secrets of the early Italian masters, and later on Hunt communicated the ‘secret’ to Madox Brown, whose pictures certainly gained much in luminosity and brightness of color immediately after 1851.
Rosetti had begun an oil painting of a subject from one of Browning’s poems, but he did not get it finished, so that Millais and Hunt alone had to sustain the renewed attack which was made when their pictures were exhibited in the Academy of 1851. In addition to ‘The Woodman’s Daughter,’ Millais exhibited ‘Mariana, or the Moated Grange’ and ‘The Return of the Dove to the Ark,’ and again he and Hunt were told that their paintings were ‘offensive and absurd productions,’ displaying nothing but ‘puerility,’ ‘uppishness,’ and ‘morbid infatuation.’ This year, however, they were not without defenders. William Rossetti had begun his career as an art critic and upheld Pre-Raphaelite aims and ideals in the columns of the Spectator. Still more important were two letters of chivalrous and whole-hearted appreciation which appeared in The Times, signed by ‘An Oxford Graduate,’ and everybody knew that the writer was the great John Ruskin. In the same year appeared a new volume of Modern Painters, in which Ruskin wrote of Millais and Homan Hunt:
Their works are, in finish of drawing and splendour of color, the best work in the Royal Academy, and I have great hope that they may become the foundation of a more earnest and able school of art than we have seen for centuries.
It is difficult to exaggerate the revulsion of feeling produced by Ruskin’s prouncements, for at that time he was almost a dictator of taste in England. Slowly the tide began to turn in favor of the brethren, but it was very nearly too late for Hunt. His picture returned to him unsold from the Academy, he was absolutely penniless and had nothing to tide him over until better times; indeed, he was on the point of abandoning painting and seeking his fortune as a sheep farmer in Australia when Millais and his parents came to the rescue. Millais ahd made a little money, and with his parent’s consent, he gave it to his comrade in order that he might make one more attempt. This generous help bound the two ‘Brothers’ still more closely together, and they spent the late summer and early autumn in the country near Surbiton, searching and backwaters of Thames to find just the right background for the picture of ‘Ophelia’, which Millais had decided to paint, and studying the meadows for the scene of Hunt’s crucial picture ‘The Hireling Shepherd’. But Hunt did not have to wait till this, perhaps his most perfect picture, was finished and exhibited before learning that the tide was turning; for while he and Millais were painting in the fields a letter was brought then announcing that the Liverpool Academy had awarded a prize of £50 to the painter of ‘Two Gentlemen of Verona.’
The Pre-Raphaelites (continued)
Synthetic Green Jadeite
I found the info on synthetic green jadeite @ http://www.patentstorm.us/patents/6908674-description.html useful + I always refer to Alan Hodgkinson techniques for its simplicity/affordability.
Here is what Alan Hodgkinson has to say about filter results + other tests:
The Chelsea Filter shows synthetic green jadeite as bluish gray in either tungsten or halogen light + the few synthetic green jadeites studied showed a lack of consistent color throughout each stone + the swirled color eccentricities were accompanied by what can best be described as 'cotton wool' inclusions + synthetic green jadeite looked grey under longwave, but fluoresced a distinct green under the shortwave.
If you are doubtful, always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
Here is what Alan Hodgkinson has to say about filter results + other tests:
The Chelsea Filter shows synthetic green jadeite as bluish gray in either tungsten or halogen light + the few synthetic green jadeites studied showed a lack of consistent color throughout each stone + the swirled color eccentricities were accompanied by what can best be described as 'cotton wool' inclusions + synthetic green jadeite looked grey under longwave, but fluoresced a distinct green under the shortwave.
If you are doubtful, always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
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