30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 29

©1970 IVAAN KOTULSKY

This is Ivaan's fifth piece.  Comparing it to his first piece, Ivaan's learning trajectory must have been almost vertical.  There are a few other items that he made in the same time frame that are quite similar to this in style, but they tend to be functional pieces, as opposed to just simply beautiful.

What is so impressive is that, this early in his jewellery-making career, he has already adopted his lifelong practice of making sure his pieces were beautiful from every angle.  In this ring, one flower faces up and a smaller one faces sideways, enabling a larger and a smaller gemstone to be set in the mouths of the flowers.  Or not.  Either way, it's a masterpiece.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 28

© 1979 IVAAN KOTULSKY

Perhaps the purest example of Ivaan's focus on making beautiful things solely for the joy of creation is this bronze piece.  I know it's from 1979, because I found a dated photograph of the original wax Ivaan carved.  What I don't know is for what, if anything, Ivaan intended this. Clearly it was intended to hang on a wall or around someone's neck, because those frills that appear at seven o'clock and nine o'clock contain holes for a chain or cord.  It's bowl-shaped and just the right size to fill the palm of my hand.

There are many marine influences on the piece, as well as a ginkgo biloba leaf. I can only assume that Ivaan was influenced by the ginkgo trees he might have seen in the cemetery where he is buried, as he used to play there as a child.

This is not a piece that can be duplicated, although one day when 3-D printing has evolved, perhaps it will.  I'm often tempted to wear it around my neck, maybe as an anchor on a windy day.  I used to see this piece kicking around among Ivaan's effects for years, and I deeply regret not asking him about it.

I marvel at it every time I see it, perhaps all the more because the little I do know about it is so insignificant compared to what I don't  know.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 27

In early 2011, I was sorting through a bag of gemstones belonging to Ivaan. Among the stones there was a large, very unusual specimen.  The sides and underside were smooth; the top surface was craggy and unpolished.  It was multicoloured and very striking.  The shape caught my attention, because one side of it was quite straight, while the other three sides were curved, giving it a unique assymetrical appearance.

I must have been in a sorting mood, because within a day or two I was sorting a tray of bronze ring masters, and among them was a ring of the same size and odd configuration. I began to wonder if Ivaan had made a ring to fit the stone.  So I retrieved the stone, slipped it in the bronze ring, and it fit perfectly. This was quite an exciting discovery, and I wondered why the ring had never been completed.

I decided to make a mould of the bronze master and to duplicate the ring in sterling silver.  This wasn't easy, because a certain amount of shrinkage can occur when making a mould, but eventually I was  able to fit the stone perfectly into the silver ring.  I showed it to  Ivaan's former partner, Tamas, who is extremely knowledgeable about gemstones and was astonished to learn that the stone was an opal.  I usually see opals as highly polished pale gemstones with a milky, almost translucent appearance, whereas the colours in this stone are quite vibrant.

©IVAAN KOTULSKY

Here is the finished product.  I had a very strong sense that this ring was destined for the finger of our longtime friend Vladyana, who is a great fan of Ivaan's work.  So I went out to lunch with Vladyana and Jack, showed her the ring, and she tried it on.  Just like my experience of trying the gemstone in the bronze master, the ring slipped onto her finger like it was meant to be there. And that's when I knew it had found its home.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 26

Now that we've moved into the Bronze Age, Ivaan's sculpture of his nose is one of his most important works.  Although it is not dated, I know it is relatively early, because at the time he cast the sculpture, he had a moustache. That moustache became part of the story.  I initially thought Ivaan used dental moulding compound to make an impression of the fine detail of his handsome nose.  However, I now think he must  have immersed his face in liquid plaster of Paris; otherwise, how could he have captured the detail of the insides of his nostrils?

©IVAAN KOTULSKY

However he did it, I remember he told me that when his face and the mould parted company, some of his moustache remained in the mould.  Besides making me shudder, this information helps me to carbon date the sculpture, which is unsigned and undated, because it can only have been made before he shaved off the moustache for good.  And who knows?  Perhaps this experience was the inspiration for the clean-shaven look he sported for the rest of his life.

One day I'll have to look through all his photographic slides.  I know he photographed this sculpture, and perhaps I'll find a photographic slide that is dated.  Right now I'm estimating it was made in the late 1970s.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 25

And here's where we branch out.  After struggling with whether or not to include pieces that are not made of silver, I've decided that to include only silver means to exclude some of Ivaan's most memorable pieces.  So, sure, I could make this corkscrew in silver if only to prove a point, but I can tell you what would happen:  the second bottle of wine that was opened would wind up with the business end of a corkscrew broken off in the cork.  Silver's like that.  Like butter, I mean.

So let's stick with bronze.  I love working on bronze.  It holds detail beautifully, is the most stalwart of metals, and it develops its own patina if you leave it alone.  Ivaan did not leave this one alone, and he had a patina added to it at the foundry.

© IVAAN KOTULSKY

Ivaan cast his own thumb to make this corkscrew.  He called it the Thumbscrew, and it's definitely a functional corkscrew.  He was never very enthused about mechanical corkscrews that sucked all the joy out of opening a bottle of wine, even as they sucked the cork out of the bottle. Never much of a drinker, Ivaan nonetheless felt that if you were opening a bottle of wine, you might as well make it an occasion, and put some effort into it.

There's a story behind Ivaan's collection of corkscrews.  He made several of them, mostly functional, occasionally just decorative.  Once, a couple of years before his death, he lent his collection of corkscrews to the editor of a magazine called Metalcraft, who was publishing a story about making corkscrews.  I have a feeling I may have written that story.  Certain turns of phrase come back to haunt me. But I digress.

Anyway, Ivaan lent the guy his corkscrews and promptly forgot all about them.   In the months just before he died, Ivaan started worrying about what he'd done with his corkscrews.  He asked me if I knew where they were.  I didn't.  In fact, I didn't even know he had lent them to the editor.  Ivaan was capable of the most fantastical leaps of logic, even when reason suggested otherwise.  If you've never read the story about the ruby heart, stay tuned. There is not one small chance I'll forget to post that story in this series.  So, Ivaan decided that since I didn't know where his corkscrews were, that I must have thrown them out.

Now, I'll admit I have a powerful predilection for cleanliness and order, but preserving Ivaan's art is what I do. So I would never even contemplate throwing out something he made. And besides, how would I open a bottle of wine for our guests?  Ivaan almost drove me mad, cross-examining me about what I'd done with his corkscrews.

Months after his death, I was at the foundry, picking up Ivaan's bronze grave marker.  The owner of the foundry (who happened to be the publisher of Metalcraft Magazine) came by and said, "I have something of Ivaan's here", and handed me a cardboard box filled with his corkscrews.  I bet you think I was relieved.  Wrong.  My blood boiled.

I got in the car, drove straight to the cemetery, and in the earth around his grave, I carved the words I TOLD YOU SO, IVAAN, with the business end of this corkscrew.

Now you know.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 24

©IVAAN KOTULSKY

It's sometimes known as the Traffic Stopper.

This ring is one of my favourites but, try as I might, I've never been able to make one that fits me comfortably.  I'm not sure what era it's from, but I think it's from the early 1990s, when Ivaan was experimenting with rings and bracelets that were folded over at the base, and were therefore next to impossible to duplicate.

Despairing that I would ever have one of these to wear, I once made a mock-up of it in heavy brown paper, took it to my milliner, and she made it into a hat for me.  It's an excellent hat, and I wear it often.  That scorpion tail flourish on the right side of the photo is a peacock feather on the hat.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 23

©IVAAN KOTULSKY 1969

This is the first ring Ivaan ever made.  He hammered it out of a silver 25 cent coin in 1969.  Although it's not beautiful in the way that most of his pieces are, I decided that I should include it, because it's such an important part of his journey as an artist.

                                          千里之行，始於足下

This Chinese proverb, attributed to Laozi  (Lao Tzu) in chapter 64 of the Tao Te Ching, literally means The journey of a thousand [units of measurement] starts beneath one's feet.  Ivaan was 25 when his journey in metal arts began.  His pieces are all over the world.  In many senses, his journey has not ended.

I wish I could ask Ivaan what inspired the design of the ring.  It has several elements from nature, such as the leaves on the sides and the sun, perhaps, on top.  There are so many things I wish I could ask Ivaan.  But I consider myself fortunate to be the custodian of his legacy - something I could never have predicted for myself.  Perhaps one day I will know more.