Monday, September 25, 2006

Two spectacular jewellery shows provide an opportunity to compare Indian courtly magnificence with an American preference for keeping it simple

There is a human yearning to adorn the body, from a modest row of pearls to the glittering bling-bling of hip-hop stars. Fortunately, possession is not a prerequisite for enjoyment in New York this winter, where a trio of jewellery shows is likely to re-open the debate on whether jewellery should be taken seriously by museums or dismissed as commercial investment. Purists punished the Met for their 'Cartier: 1900-1939' show in 1997, but it achieved one of its best attendance rates for any exhibition--more than 420,000.

The Asia Society is well placed to match this success, and to argue that jewellery should be taken very seriously indeed. Upstairs in their luxurious polished brown granite prism headquarters on Park Avenue designed for them by Edward Larrabee Barnes Associates, where ladies lunch in the conservatory cafe while the city's best Asia bookstore is always busy, more than 150 pieces of Indian jewellery from the collection formed by Susan L. Beningson have their first public show.

In India, jewellery is not restricted to women, nor is its function solely to display wealth. It signifies status and class, expresses royal or religious allegiance, reinforces contracts, glorifies the powerful, is essential to the intimacy of love. For at least 5,000 years jewellery has adorned men, women and, above all, temple deities, where jewellery is part of the bond between the worshipper and the deity.

Much of Miss Beningson's collection beautifully wrought anklets, earrings, necklaces, jewelled crowns--comes from south India. It was here that the Indian jewellers' technical expertise developed in the great gem-trading centres, under the patronage of the great rulers (whose state-owned jewels would adorn their whole households including the servants) and, importantly, the great temples. Adriana Proser, curator of traditional Asian art at the Asia Society, explained: 'These are not just baubles, not just fine works of craftsmanship. They held important significance in society. The highest honour for a devotee was to give jewellery to dress the deity.'

To that end, hundreds of jewellers were permanently employed by temples. The Brihadishvara Temple in Thanjavur, for example, built by the powerful Chola ruler Rajaraja I, has eleventh century inscriptions carved on the walls detailing the gem experts' many classifications for pearls, diamonds and rubies. When the jewel filled treasuries became goals for northern invaders, the temples added fort-like walls, most notably around the hugely wealthy Ranganatha Temple at Sringangam.

Even today, fine jewellery continues to be commissioned for the gods and, as Molly Emma Aitken explains in her excellent catalogue essay, 'wealthy devotees pay to obtain a private viewing of a deity in his or her richest jewellery'. As if to reinforce the importance of jewellery in Indian society, a second exhibition at Asia House displays Indian miniature paintings from the Poisky collection. There is jewellery in almost every one: a god is weighed down with gem-encrusted jewels, lovers discard their clothes but not their jewellery, a pet blackbuck is draped with three necklaces while he poses stiffly for his portrait.

The same arguments cannot be made for American jewellery. But Judith Price, founder and President of the National Jewelry Institute, has put together a remarkable show that surprises and impresses, 'Masterpieces of American Jewelry'. Hosted by the American Folk Art Museum (and, in 2005, by Somerset House in London), it claims to be the first museum show devoted entirely to American jewellery. The two hundred exhibits were all made and distributed in America between the late eighteenth century and the 1980s. As such, it presents an opportunity to define just what makes American jewellery distinct.

Ms Price, no stranger to India's complex jewellery tradition, has her own no-nonsense theories. 'Simplicity and a sense of humour. Do you know the American trade code "kiss"? It stands for "keep it simple stupid". So, we often use semi-precious stones for serious jewellery.' She illustrates her point with piece made in the 1940s for the considerable jewellery collectors Mr and Mrs Cole Porter. 'Look at the way Paul Flare uses aquamarines and rubies to make a belt shaped necklace. Sheer simplicity, humour, and not even a diamond!'

Interestingly, about half of the 25 lenders are men. 'These are major collectors with Picassos on their wails and jewellery in their vaults', explains Ms Price. To encourage visitors to take the same serious approach, the pieces are displayed in low lit cabinets to give each one the status of a work of art.

Ralph Esmerian, the show's curator, has grouped the pieces by theme. This reveals two additional characteristics: quality craftsmanship and gentle sentiment. Both are evident in an 1877 Tiffany gold classic revival bracelet exhibited at the Paris World's Fair and in Cartier's exclusive New York designs, such as a 1927 brooch shaped as if the American flag had been tied into a bow tie. They are in the delicate orchid brooches made by J.E. Caldwell, Marcus & Co., and Tiffany & Co. New York to celebrate America's natural splendour. They are in Van Cleef & Arpels' diamond-encrusted ballerina brooches of the 1940s--Claude Arpels was a close friend of George Balanchine; in the Walt Disney-influenced work of Raymond C. Yard collected by Rockefellers, Vanderbilts and DuPonts; and, more recently, in Joel Arthur Rosenthal's 1987 blue butterfly using indigenous Montana sapphires.