BLINGIN’ IT IS TEN’S ONLINE SERIES WHERE WE SPOTLIGHT THE INNOVATORS AND CHANGE-MAKERS OF THE JEWELLERY WORLD.
Imagine a sea of pearlescent shells melting into exquisite metals and gemstones, buttons and broken ceramics, fragile Lepidoptera and apex predatory teeth. That’s the kind of stuff Emily Frances Barrett makes: intriguing, alluring, connected concoctions of eclectic found materials. Working precious jewels in blackened silver and yellow gold together with hand woven chains, she playfully confronts the connotations surrounding material value, beauty and adornment. Pendants and rings, bejewelled by tiny crystalline clusters, challenge notions of self-decoration and status. Passels of tourmalated and rutilated quartz, underscored by intuitive garnet hearts and cultured cross pearls, question existing social and cultural conventions.
With her eponymous label, Barrett explores the power and energy of the earth while at the same time evoking an appreciation for objects of nature and organic forms, and is captivated by imperfections and flawed beauty. By repurposing otherwise useless, discarded ring pulls and cigarette butts, pressed flowers and butterfly wings preserved in resin, her creations come alive with organic irregularities, marks, scars and natural signs of ageing, emulsifying layers of subliminal intrigue.
Barrett is a mudlarker (a person who scavenges in river mud for objects of value) and a skilled craftswoman, who has found in herself a certain knack for the use of bricolage: from the foreshores of the River Thames in London, Barrett incorporates her finds, such as fragments of pottery, ancient flints and iridescent sea glass into objects of desire. She’s even used a delicate life casting technique to reincarnate the tiny shells of Hermann Tortoises in silver, 9K yellow gold and brass as pendants and necklaces within her Nomad range.
Her latest series, Hoard, uses an ancient craft technique known as “Lost Wax Casting” to create a mysterious lost treasure trove of eclectic jewels. She incorporates tiny seashells, seaweed and shark teeth, as if the marine pieces were dredged directly from the aphotic depths of a forgotten 16th century shipwreck or discovered amidst the sandswept terrain of the desert.
The self taught jeweller’s creations feel both feminine and masculine, and are holistically inspired by a smorgasbord of disparate things: from psychology, science, antiques, contemporary design, architecture and history, to furniture, homeware, perfume and scents, music, style, clothes and accessories. “Life keeps me creative, you just have to be curious, which – to the annoyance of people that know me – I most definitely am,” Barrett says. “There are no guilty pleasures; just pleasure.”
Barret boasts a rather extensive educational background. She originally graduated with a degree in illustration, followed by 12 years honing her skills in the set design and prop-making industry, before completing an MA in fashion communication and promotion at Central Saint Martins. After that, she jumped into a two-year artist residency at the Sarabande Foundation which commenced in 2019. So as you might expect, her plans for the future are rather audacious. This year, she has all the intent to dip her toes into categories that go beyond jewellery. As for the details, Barrett keeps her lips tightly pursed so as not to spill all her sublime secrets. We’ll just have to wait and see what’s in store, but if any one thing is certain, it’s that Emily Frances Barrett is a sorceress of jewellery design.
ON FINDING HER FOOTING AS A SELF-TAUGHT JEWELLERY DESIGNER
“Ever since I can remember, I’ve made things and found magic in bringing something from my imagination into being; it’s my most constant and reliable source of joy. I never had a plan; I still don’t. Making and creating is my natural state of being so it’s always been my path and I wouldn’t want to do anything else. The creative application is ever changing though: I prefer not to define and differentiate between disciplines, the aim is simply to create without boundaries – that’s the most exciting perspective landscape for me.
“When I started my residency at Sarabande, I decided to chuck in my various jobs assisting, making props and other peoples art. Being the first time I’d had my own studio, it was a gut felt decision to put all my energy into my own work for a change, and somehow I made it work. I hate the word “brand” though, as it’s so synonymous with the idea of something self conscious, pre-conceived and manufactured. I think of myself as an artist making work, things to be worn, used or simply enjoyed. Often my best work comes out of instinctually responding to materials or to a seed of an idea, I rarely sketch for myself, preferring to just get stuck in. Making one-off pieces or bespoke commissions is the most creative for me as every piece is unique, in that way I definitely prefer to approach jewellery as an artist, piece-by-piece rather than a “brand” having to consider what will sell.”
ON APPRECIATING IMPERFECTIONS AND FLAWED BEAUTY
“Flaws are more relatable and human than something that is clinical, shiny and new. There’s a given history and a story that adds a greater sense of depth, which is always more interesting than perfection. A broken piece of something, for example, is less obvious and leaves more to the imagination, which if you have one, can be a transportive and magical thing!”
ON CRAFTING THE ‘HOARD’ SERIES
“Rather than attribute a narrative to the series, I wanted to conjure the feeling of discovery. The thrill of the find, and the mystery as to how it got there, ignites the imagination and a curiosity to find out more. I incorporated shells, seaweed and shark teeth which all connect to the sea; and as I was creating these pieces I naturally wove a story in my mind involving a ship wreck, and pirates and sirens dripping with jewels from a lost hoard dredged from the bottom of the sea.
“Lost wax casting, or “investment casting”, starts by making a master in wax from which a mould is made. Molten metal is then poured into the mould to create a cast of the original master, which can then be duplicated over and over. The earliest examples of this process dates back to around 6,500 years (4550–4450 BC) which is quite mad considering it would have been done using rudimentary tools and equipment. It’s a relatively technical 10 step process involving quite a bit of kit, which is why most jewellers including myself outsource their casting.”
ON REFERENCING NATURE AND ORGANIC FORMS
“Nature is phenomenal to me, a real life trip. It’s funny that we simply accept the existence of it, these ready-made pieces of “design”. So sometimes it takes recontextualising natural forms to truly appreciate, elevate and see them for what they are.”
ON HATCHING HERMANN TORTOISES
“The tortoises were a lock down idea that was more successful than I had ever imagined. Like everyone in that time, I barely saw anyone and therefore craved a bit of life around me. I had all the equipment, as I had done it once before way back when, so I made a few phone calls and located some eggs, which I had transported to my London flat in an egg box covered in earth on top of a hot water bottle. The egg box went straight into an aquarium complete with UV lights, heat pads, humidity gauge and a thermometer.
“Everyday I peered at the grubby, lifeless eggs peeking out of the earth like discarded ping pong balls. Six weeks was a long time during lockdown and time passed very slowly. But, I came home one day and I noticed an egg was missing. On the floor of the tank were pieces of broken egg shell, but no tortoise in sight. Then, tucked behind the egg box I spied a perfectly formed shiny shell the size of a two pence piece, wobbling around unbalanced on its still bulbous stomach. Over the next week the rest of the eggs proceeded to hatch one by one, until I found myself with six prehistoric babies to bathe and feed every day.
“Each morning I’d put them on my desk in the summer sunlight that poured through my window, placing them in shallow warm water on a dinner plate, which is apparently important to ensure their shells stay hydrated. Post bath came plate number two, piled with salad leaves, cucumber and tomatoes which they would happily munch on for the next hour before they’d inevitably try and make an escape. The responsibility of being a mother of six was a bit much after about six months, so eventually I found homes for them. But before I did, I carefully took a mould of one of their shells knowing that I’d want to reincarnate it in metal at some point. That’s how the Nomad series was born – purely by accident!”
ON BUILDING ART WITH BRICOLAGE
“I find subversion of an object fun, by going against preconceived ideas and values and turning them on their head. I think it’s important to have an element of humour in your work sometimes, as there’s enough to be serious about in the world – in the end it’s only jewellery so why not!”
Photography courtesy of Emily Frances Barrett.
