Imperfect, Impermanent, and Incomplete
By Kate White
Jewelry is traditionally designed then fabricated; however, I often do not plan my designs in advance. Instead my process involves following the lead of my material, going with the flow and finding beauty in imperfection. Form serves the function of highlighting intricate textures and visual effects created by various techniques employed in my work, such as reticulating, fusing mixed metals and imprinting metal or waxes (to be casted into metal) with objects such as rocks, other pieces of metal, bark, feathers, and hand tools.
Reticulation and fusing involve heating precious and semi-precious metals with my torch until near their melting point before quickly pulling back the torch at the right moments. When a near melting point is achieved, I withdraw the intense heat of the flame and wait for the metal to cool, stabilize, and reassemble itself. This state of flux, lingering along the borderline between a solid and fluid state of being, transforms my sheet metal’s surface into an intricate surface that resembles an object shaped by nature.
These processes require relinquishing some control and succumbing to the unpredictability of the resulting fine details—or starting all over again. I refined my skills using these techniques and can control the metals to an extent. Yet the outcome is never quite the same, which I find compelling. This process feels meditative.
I enjoy building these pieces with intention, but fluidity. The unique surfaces, reminiscent of textures often found on ocean shorelines, determine how I fabricate them into a wearable object. I will often sit with a piece for a long time before seeing its potential, what works and what does not, and how its beauty might be most appreciated. This time for reflection allows me to envision how to best showcase its beauty in its never-final form.
By never-final form, I mean that whatever form my materials leave my possession in will inevitably and eventually change over time. Someday my creations will return to the earth from which it came. This reminds me that all that really matters is that the process of manifesting my artwork is honoured in its entirety, the good and the bad. This is why I usually don’t get upset when a piece doesn’t go in the direction I attempt to push it in. If something I am working on melts, I adapt my strategy to its new form instead; if I do not see its potential yet, I set it aside to come back to it later.
Textured surfaces age beautifully, in my opinion. Sterling silver, copper, and brass all naturally and inevitably darken over time with exposure to moisture and air. I welcome this natural phenomenon by accentuating the darkened metal within the low points of my surface designs by making the outermost surfaces shine.
“My creative process allows me to replicate the feeling I get when I notice a beautiful smooth ocean-carved rock...”
I am drawn to the contrast of these highs and lows. Not everyone enjoys routinely hand-buffing their semi-precious metal jewelry—so, my work is an acquired taste. The process reminds me of discovering and cleaning the sand off of an object beautifully shaped by the ocean’s eternal rhythms and I love connecting with customers who appreciate this meditative aspect of maintaining jewelry.
My creative process allows me to replicate the feeling I get when I notice a beautiful smooth ocean-carved rock, a rusty piece of metal, or a colourful piece of driftwood while wandering the shorelines of our beautiful Maritimes. It connects me to that sense of calm amidst the chaos of her shores – the feeling of duality. The ocean is both fierce and unrelenting and yet bountiful and giving. Unique objects created via processes such as erosion, rust, and decay along the shorelines inspire my work.
Recently, I have been away from my studio practice. In early 2019 I had a surgery to repair a rare inner ear condition and congenital skull base defects with a brain herniation in my middle ear. I briefly returned to my studio practice after recovery before giving birth to my first child at the very end of 2019. I have been adapting since then, slowly reintegrating my studio practice and finding a new rhythm as a mother and metal artist.
I approach my creative endeavours with the same balancing act that nature has, working with features as opposed to against them. I strive to embrace the beauty in whatever the universe manifests and to go with the flow because I too am imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.
