30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 11

@IVAAN KOTULSKY 1979

I'm starting to appreciate the monumental significance of Ivaan's body of work for the Art Gallery of Ontario's 1979 Treasures of Tutankhamun collection.  1979 was the 10th anniversary of the beginning of Ivaan's career in metal arts, and the Egyptian collection certainly involved by far the most historical research.   Recently, I found a book of excellent photographs of the actual pieces that formed the basis of the AGO exhibition.  You might  have expected a book like this to have been in Ivaan's library.  In fact, I doubt he had ever seen it.  I found it on the lawn of a neighbour's house, among a boxful of books they were giving away.

This piece is a sommelier spoon, used by wine tasters.  What I love about it is that it's not slavishly Egyptian, though there are many features characteristic of the age of Tutankhamun.  The bunches of grapes and vines on the underside are characteristically Ivaan's.  So is the shape: it looks a bit like a flounder. Yet there are the striations on the front handle that represent bullrushes, and that part is very much an Egyptian influence.

I can easily imagine Ivaan poring over this book of Egyptian photographs, and asking me to read him the text.  We were so well matched in many ways, primarily the ways in which we were opposites.  One of the most predominant was that he loved to be read to, and I love reading aloud.  Who would have thought that I'd be the one silently carrying on his legacy?  One of my big regrets is in not having taken the opportunity, while I had it, to learn more from him about this collection, which has become so important to me, and was instrumental in developing the artist he eventually became.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part 10

©IVAAN KOTULSKY

In the same vein as the sterling silver egg that looks like crumpled satin (see 30 Pieces of Silver, Part Eight) this ring also has the appearance of fabric.  It's a very large ring, and I always feel very tormented when someone expresses an interest in buying it, because I love wearing it now and again.  Fortunately, it's also very heavy, making it expensive, and that's generally a good deterrent to potential suitors.

It is possible that Ivaan actually made this ring for himself, because it would have fit him, but I wouldn't be surprised if he found that it got in his way too much.  A whack with a ring like this could inflict a lot of damage on one of his beloved vintage cameras. His loss, my gain. Here's a view of the other side.  I tried photographing it head on, but it totally doesn't look like a ring unless I include a bit of the band. I'm not sure when he made this ring. As far as I know, there is no mould of it, but I think it was much later than the egg.  I'm guessing around 1999 or 2000.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part Nine

©IVAAN KOTULSKY 1993

It's relatively easy to select pieces to include in 30 Pieces of Silver, at least in the early stages of the project.  I'm sure it will become quite difficult when I'm selecting the last few pieces, because there will be so many more that were not selected, and deserved to be.  Nonetheless, here am I, posting one that I struggled with.

This is the ring with which Ivaan proposed to me.  I was on my way out the door to work, briefcase in hand, wearing my leather jacket, my motorcycle helmet and boots.  I had a busy day ahead of me and I was running late.  The last thing I was expecting at that moment was a marriage proposal.  Seeing Ivaan down on one knee on the living room floor, I assumed he was having another heart attack and I inexplicably burst into tears.

It goes without saying (I guess) that I didn't end up wearing it as an engagement ring for long; it was too big and too small at the same time.
The band was too tight for my ring finger, and the top part didn't fit inside my motorcycle glove.  I didn't select this ring for its sentimental value, and I don't even think I chose it for the workmanship.

I chose it because it's an excellent example of Ivaan's ability to see beauty where most people don't even bother to look.  The emerald in this ring is a "beach emerald" - a piece of broken Seven Up bottle he found on the street. He clearly applied the wax directly onto  the piece of glass, and cast the whole thing in silver, praying that the glass would not melt or shatter during the the casting process.

At least I don't have trouble figuring out when this ring was made.  It was before I said yes, in late 1994. At least I think I said yes. Here's the other side of the ring, in case you're curious.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part Eight

©IVAAN KOTULSKY 1987

There's a very good reason this sterling silver egg has not appeared in the 30 Pieces of Silver series till now.  That reason is sloth. In order to write about the egg,  I'd first have to photograph it.  While Ivaan took some excellent photos of the egg, they are all on photographic slides.  So I decided I'd have to photograph it myself.  Photographing it in my hand is a good way of illustrating the size of the piece.  It's also a good background, as it eliminates all kinds of shadows.  Sadly, it also means you get to look at my polishing-machine battered left hand, because in order to photograph the egg, I first needed to polish it.  It's wedding ring season at Atelier Ivaan, so I've been spending an inordinate number of hours at the polishing machine, and my hands are beginning to resemble Ivaan's.  You could probably grow potatoes under my fingernails.  Huh - maybe I should have photographed it balanced on my foot. At least my feet are looking their best.

Ivaan started experimenting with making hollow sculptures out of jewellers' wax in 1987.  It's likely this was modelled on an actual egg.  He really liked making things in metal that looked like crumpled satin, and certainly this has that effect.   I am posting a couple of smaller photos showing the other sides of the egg. It's truly a masterpiece.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part Seven

© IVAAN KOTULSKY 2000

When Ivaan started making a series of pendant pieces that were acorn-shaped and hollow, I was quite intrigued because I realized the only way to duplicate them would ruin the originals (I'll spare you the details).  Clearly, that was never going to happen. Some of them were thicker, some were more delicate, and most were gold, because if you were going to all that trouble to make a one-off, it might as well be hard-wearing gold.

Ivaan gave me a white gold one as a gift, and I love it.  But I always coveted this silver one, with its long tail that anchors the piece, which I can twirl between my thumb and forefinger. The chain on which I often wear it was also handmade by Ivaan, link by painstaking link. But the real masterpiece is the pendant piece.  I'm surprised I got to number seven on the 30 Pieces of Silver project without already having included it.

Since there isn't a mould, carbon dating it will be hard.  But I am fairly sure it's circa 2000.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part Six

KING TUT GOBLET © IVAAN KOTULSKY 1979

This is one of my favourite  pieces by Ivaan, but it is perhaps the one that causes me the most anguish.  Here's why: I no longer have it.

Ivaan made it in 1979 as part of his King Tutankhamun collection.  As far as I know, there has never been a mould of it, but I used to see it lying around among his pieces for years.  After we moved out of his studio a couple of doors away from our house on Portland Street, the goblet was stored in our basement.  I actually have a vivid memory of seeing it sitting on a brick ledge behind the furnace, while I was bricklaying over what had been the wooden door to a coal chute.

I had thought it was included in a fabulous exhibition of Ivaan's abandoned pieces entitled Sweepings: Treasures From The Atelier Floor, at KUMF Gallery in September 2008, curated by the utterly remarkable dynamo, Luda Pawliw, but even close inspection of the film footage of this exhibit doesn't show this piece on display, so I must reluctantly conclude that my own negligence led to its disappearance.

It's sterling silver, and this photograph is approximately life size.   I am sure it says IVAAN in block capitals underneath the base. If you ever see it anywhere (perhaps behind the furnace in our old house on Portland Street) I'm offering a substantial reward for its return. Grrrr.

30 PIECES OF SILVER: Part Five

In 1979, Ivaan was commissioned by the Art Gallery of Ontario to make a series of Egyptian themed jewellery for their first King Tutankhamun exhibition.  The scarab beetle was very important in ancient Egyptian culture, and Ivaan wanted to make one that looked real, not like a cartoon.  His first scarab ring had the beetle sitting sideways on the finger.  A lot of work went into it, but frankly it looked creepy, so I'm certain it never achieved much success.

However, his second scarab ring was a huge success and became perhaps the most popular piece of jewellery Ivaan ever made.  It's no exaggeration to say that hundreds of people wear an Ivaan scarab ring, either in gold, bronze or sterling silver, and some people have come back for seconds, either because they wore theirs out or because they wanted them in different metals.

It was our friend Vladyana Krykorka Johnson who single-handedly raised the scarab ring to iconic status.  She worked with Ivaan at Maclean Hunter Publishing in the 1970s, and when she first saw the scarab ring he made, she knew it was destined for her finger. Vladyana is an artist and illustrator; she has a million friends in the art world and in the Czech community at large, and when her friends saw what she called her "bug ring", they got in line behind her and got scarab rings of their own.  Now these people's children have their own  bug rings.

©IVAAN KOTULSKY 1979

If you see someone wearing one of Ivaan's scarab rings, you can safely ask them: "Are you Czech?  Are you an artist?  Or are you an architect?" Guaranteed you will be right on one or more of these counts.  

One of the interesting factors about this ring is the price. It's a hundred and fifty dollars. It will always be a hundred and fifty dollars. Ivaan told me that we can't charge more for it because the people who love it are generally artists, and artists are historically not rich, so it is essential for them to have something beautiful that's within their financial reach.

Except if it's gold, in which case it's $150 plus the cost of the gold.  But the scarab is a symbol of reincarnation, so it will last a lifetime - and maybe more.