Friday, May 20, 2011

Final Reflections: On Hollowforming

And so it is at last that we come to the end, with one final project: the hollowform.  It could be anything, so long as it was wearable.  It was also to be based off of a historical art period or artist.  Whilst at first I thought of fabricating a chased and repousse brooch in the style of what Roman centurions wore on their cloaks, I settled in the end on a simple pendant, with a simple shape and a simple bale.  Romans are famred for their architecture, and so this simple pendant was based off of a column; I used copper because I like the way it looks like sandstone when heated right.

As for the bale and the stone set in the top, I wanted a bale that made sense as something that would be put on top of a pillar.  The Romans often put statues on the tops of pillars, but such a thing would require casting, and did not readily solve the problem.  In the end my bale came to be a shape inspired by the more intricate capitals, which I came across as I went along.  The stone reminded me of marble, and that is why I chose it.

The column itself was made in a process very similar to a very long band ring, and then chased to add the detailing.

Overall, the piece needed some cleanup, and this cleanup is still an option.  There were gaps that did not fill, and the ability to fix them is passed.  It was a hollowform piece; it solved the requirements of a project, but I would not say much more than that.

For reference:




Sunday, May 1, 2011

Story Project Pendant

It has been some time.  The latest project I have been working on is a wearable pendant based off of the old time-telling (it had other uses as well, hundreds by some estimates, including surveying) instrument known as the astrolabe.  For those fo you who do not know what an astrolabe is, here is an excellent explanation of the device by TED talks guest Tom Wujec.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yioZhHe1i5M

For those of you who do not have the time to watch the video, the simple explanation of the astrolabe is that it is a miniature map of the galaxy (that we can see from our vantage point in it).  The ath of the stars around us are mapped on a brass plate, and the path of the sun and brightest stars are mapped on their own piece called a rete that goes on top.  The rete is mostly empty space, allowing one to see the pattern of the star paths mapped on the brass plate below.  The rest of the astrolabe is a back-plate that pulls it all together and is equipped with scales of all sorts, such as hours in a day.

Since it is hard to explain using words alone, here are several pictures to clarify, as well as provide the source of my inspiration.  As is probably obvious, I own absolutely 0% of these images:




An astrolabe showing its various parts.  The cutout portion is the rete, the circular pieces are the maps.  Since each star map only works for a specific location, these maps had to be interchangeable.  The other pieces functioned no matter where in the world you were.


A closer look at the rete and the ap beneath it.  Since the really good astrolabes were made of brass (most others were wood or paper), I decided to try my hand at making one out of brass as well.  It was the first time I really worked with brass, and it was enjoyable, though frustrating in one specific area: brass looks like copper after it is heated, so it must be sanded to remove this colouration.  Otherwise, I liked brass a lot - probably more than copper, to be honest.

My piece also had silver and copper pieces in it, but the main bulk was brass.




Instructions on how to make an astrolabe.  Plans from a Jewish dissertation on the subject.  According to St. John's College website library (from whence these came):

"Masha' allah (c. 730 to 815), also known as Messahalla, was a Jewish astrologer from the city of Basra. He wrote the work On the Construction and Use of the Astrolabe in Arabic in the late eighth century."

Top left: backplate, also known as the mater.
Top right: instructions on how to make the maps.
Bottom center: detail of the rete.

My piece is not actually a working astrolabe; it is merely based off of one's design.  More on this later.

  

The zodiac - whether Greek, Babylonian, Celtic, or even as far afield as Chinese - are often depicted in a circle like the one above.  Astrolabes typically mentioned the zodiac as well as the months.



The Concept and the Piece

The goal behind this project was to make a pendant that was based upon a story that was personal to the maker.  My own was based upon a story that I have been working on for at least ten years now; as such this story has become very personal to me.  Rather than go into lengthy detail about the story, I will briefly explain the piece and how it relates to said story.

One of the things that has always fascinated me was the notion of lost empires and forgotten secrets.  This is a foundational part of my story; as such, the pendant I created represents one such empire and the secrets buried with it.  An astrolabe is an ancient device that is all about unveiling the mysteries of the heavens; so too is my piece made to unveil the mysteries of the lost empire that created it.  I made this piece with the idea in mind that it had been made long ago by someone in that very empire.  As such, the piece was made to look very old and battered.

In structure it is very similar to an astrolabe.  It has a rete, a map, a backplate, and scales on both front and back that correspond to the culture that made it.  This instrument, however, does not divine based upon the stars, but rather the four Greek elements - earth, fire, water, air.  The concept of the four elements and the balance between them is another of those things that inspire my story, and so it was not only fitting, but important, to put it in the piece itself - not to mention the empire in question revolved its life around the elements.

Because there are four elements, the number four is crucial to the piece.  The culture that made it looked to the four elements, the four seasons, the four cardinal directions, and four in general as a number of balance.  As such, it does not have 24 hours in a days, but 4x4 hours in a day, which is 16 of course.  This means each hour is ninety minutes rather than sixty.

This empire is supposed to be ancient, but even still it is younger than the even more ancient cultures that began the notion of sixty as a basic number of important.  As such, the empire's numerical system is meant to be a hybrid of traiditional base-60 numerical systems and a younger (and extinct) base-16 number system.  The importance of the numbers 4 and 16 are evident in the scales that represent the 16 hours, as well as the 16 pokes of the pendant's flange, the 4 elements depicted on the rete and radial, and so on.

Further, this piece is a map.  Not just a map of the stars, but a map of a particular location and a structure.  The design of the flange and the etch on the back correlate to a real structure (within the world), and the star map corresponds to said structure's geographical location.

The pendant is heavy, and it is suspended by a small chain.  The main reason for this is the idea that its real chain would long ago have been lost, and so someone picking it up would have just used whatever chain came to hand.

And so, without further wait, here are the pictures of the piece:











When I showed this piece in its as-yet unfinished form (the etching and patinas still needed to be done), the major critique was that it looked unfished due to the scratches not looking intentional.  I wanted to accentuate the age of the piece, and it is my hope that with the etching, patinas, and the other technques I imposed upon it (specifically finishing the back-plate and the star map), that it now does look like something very old, half-eaten by time.  In part this effect was done through controlled manipulation of the mordant I was using, and the various patinas I applied.  The other part was an attempt at a more natural look by allowing for some randomization in the etching process.

My hope is that this has proven effective.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Commentary on Finished Tiles

This is a commentary on the twenty tiles I made:

  1. For the etchings, in general I feel they went well, but it is hard to get a clean line using asphaltum.  PnP paper seems to be the easiest way to get such crispness, but since I prefer working traditionally as possible, I am reluctant to throw in the towel to a printer.  But I cannot help but wonder if the graininess of the asphaltum etching is why the old etchers back in the day (Albrecht Duhrer comes to mind) using cross-hatching to make their images.
  2. Chasing and repousse is a fun technique, and one I aim to explore more deeply.
  3. In general, the inlays were tough.  Solder inlay requires more cleanup than I like, lamination inlay distorts an image (this can be minimized depending on how you do it - note, minimized), and marriage of metal (aka puzzle inlay) is a pain to get a good fit with no gaps.  I imagine solder inlay will be useful in the future, and as much a pain as matrriage of metal is, I am sure I will continue using them.  Marriage of metal is a challenge to be overcome.
  4. Foldforming had a better result than I expected.  But I would not use it extensively.  I would rather etch or make a ring.
For my own tiles, if I were to do anything differently, I would have aged the shiny ones so that they better matched each other.  My idea was that these tiles would have decorated a section of wall in some ancient Persian palace; ultimately, the look of my tiles was divided between past and present.  This did not occur to me until the end.

They will age naturally; this is good, because I am frankly concerned about dismounting them.  They are fixed with Liquid Nails - I really do not want to tear apart the tile that they sit on.  And for that matter, I like the idea of them aging naturally.  It lends a certain sense of authenticity to them.

The one tile that received the harshest criticism - and I was on the fence about including it for this very reason - was the one tile which I did not fabricate in the traditional sense.  It was a piece of copper, which through combination of heating, liver of sulfur aging solution, and an interesting swirly pattern made by a power sander, ended up with a very unique look.  It was iridescent blue and purple and the sanding texture gave it an almost glassy feel to it; the copper was still visible beneath the patina, making it very three-dimensional.  It remined me of Babylonian tile.

To some it was "just a piece of copper".  But I thought it was special enough to include.

Ultimately the whole project was a learning experience for me; I enjoyed it, and it taught me a lot about how I would go about the process if I were to do it again.  There are many things I would do differently, now that I actually have some experience with the project.  But for this project, it did not need to be perfect, and I was not aiming for perfection.  The best that I could do, but not perfection.  That would be impossible, having no knowledge of the techniques that I was doing.  That said I am pleased with the results, and I see no need to revisit my tiles.

For reference again:


It could be brighter an image (on the right side), but such is life.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Wax Studies

Because I forgot to document my earlier waxes, I made sure to document these.  All are for the Skeleton to Skin project.


Finished Tiles

Here are the photos of my finished project.  I am proud of how it turned out; I actually ended with twenty-one tiles, but one of the tiles I was dissatisfied with.

This is the unfortunate tile, a scene of Ahriman trying to steal the Ring of Sovereignty.  It was etched and patinaid.

All the tiles together.  It seems two of them are hard to see.  Closeups will follow.



All completed, and I am happy with the results.  They say a magician never reveals his secrets; I may not be a magician, but I like that policy anyway.