The Wonder of Native American Sterling Cast Work

One of the big reasons I chose Native American Jewelry studies as my livelihood is the vast amount of information out there. A lot is easily accessible but there are hidden pockets that reveal a much deeper understanding of the art form than is usually offered. My best source has been the collectors and traders I interface with; people that have a long association with the art form.

I handle so many pieces I have time to closely examine the techniques used and have formed some opinions around certain aspects. One area that I've found to be particularly interesting is Tufa cast work, which is commonly referred to as Sandcast. This was one of the first techniques used by Native Americans to create jewelry for everyday adornment, ceremonial applications and as gifts for fellow tribe members.

The pieces are often heavy and feature bold designs. Earlier pieces are regularly rough in nature with the design elements being left un-manicured which gives them a slightly primitive look (I like that a lot!). With the advent of mass production and precision measurement tools, a lot of the personality has been removed from the work. Casts for pieces made prior to this had to be “eyeballed” as far as the shapes and thicknesses of the item were concerned. A cast would be made and utilized until it's integrity waned and a new cast was required if the design was to be duplicated. The great thing is, the casts were seldom re-created once they were exhausted, and if they were, the duplicate cast was different than the original rendering each casting as a unique, individual design.

The designs are almost always symmetrical with matching elements that when eyeballed didn't quite end up the same as their sister elements. These older pieces are the ones I strive to acquire—their handcrafted nature is endearing and speaks to the artisan following edicts of early jewelry making in which they let the Gods guide them through all aspects.

One such piece I acquired many years ago is a massive bracelet which was culled from the Witte Museum in San Antonio, Texas. It's been dated to between 1900 and 1920 and is a stellar example of early Navajo cast work featuring many of the aforementioned attributes.

Much of what I've mentioned here has taken a while for me to absorb. With each new acquisition of a cast sterling piece of considerable age, I learn more about this important technique, it's cultural origins and it's handcrafted charm.

Sky and Earth

by Scott Anderson: Native Treasures Online - East Coast Operative

I've never written a blog before so I'm quite surprised to find myself writing my first one far from home and far from the places traditionally associated with my subject today, that being the mineral phenomenon known as Turquoise.

I am not a geologist, nor an artist, nor a theologian or an economist, and I therefore concede that there are deeper writings on everything I'll discuss here today. I stand at this nexus radiating from the stone as an admirer and a tourist of sorts in the realms of these experts.

My first exposure to this stone was in my grade school years when a kid from up the street showed me a stone he had obtained on a trip to some exotic location. Turkoyse was how he said it, and it was valuable. It immediately impressed my young mind and I accepted it's value on his say-so alone. That impression sat many years before I was again exposed to the stone.

When I moved to Albuquerque at the age of seventeen there were few jobs for which I was qualified and one of the possibilities was working for an "Indian Jewelry" shop. As it turned out, I never did go to work for such a place, but many of my acquaintances took their turn working in these sweatshops grinding heishi for the quick sell to tourists that didn't know any better. To me, the whole subject of turquoise was decidedly utilitarian. The stuff seemed to be everywhere and it's enthusiasts merely a class of prey for the local merchants.

Fast forward through the years--about thirty. These experiences have faded deep into the realm of irrelevance now. There was the occasional reminder of the art form employing turquoise and silver as my life took me far from New Mexico, but somehow the place and the people had made me one of their own. I remember driving to my job at the Ambrosia Lakes mines outside of Grants, New Mexico. I looked off to the side of the road and saw the smooth rolling brown hills and was overcome with something strange and warm. These hills, this land, were now my mother. I was born from them and in them I belonged as on my Mother's arm. Wherever life might take me, I would never forget this place and this time.

From Albuquerque one can see in the distance a beautiful mountain. You have to be on a high place to see it off to the west. It's called by the white man, Mount Taylor. This is a holy place. It was in the foothills of this place that I saw my Mother Earth. There is no arbiter of justice, there is only what is part of us and what is not. This land and I are of a piece. Maybe it's a reach to claim more than that, but the particular stone we call Turquoise is of this land too. In fact it is found in globally diverse places, but here in the New World, it is closely associated with the Southwestern United States.

All this variety has led to a hope that we might classify the stones and indeed we do, but the predominant classification is by mines from which a particular stone was quarried, hence mysterious names such as The #8 Mine or Carrico Lake, Cerrillos or Pilot Mountain. To anyone seeking to know more about this beautiful stone it can all seem quite daunting and indeed to compound the problem there is plenty of misrepresentation around these stones. Its really not a matter of malicious intent either, it is mostly just that there is really no solid science to the whole thing. Any particular quarry or mine will produce a variety of gem-quality pieces depending on where in the vein they were found. And yet, each mine can produce stones unaffectionately referred to as crap. Strangely or not, these stones never seem to receive the appellation of place like that afforded the best wines. Which brings us to yet another point and the comparison with wines is inescapable on this point. A cheap wine is made of grapes sourced from the cheapest supplier and they are likely to be a mixture of grapes from moderately diverse locations. Likewise turquoise of poor quality can be ground into a powder and bound with epoxy resins to produce a uniform composite which will take a polish and can be easily cut to size. This is referred to simply as "block" by those in the trade. This is not gem-quality stone and, unfortunately finds it's way into a lot of cheap jewelry.

So having danced around this subject maybe a bit more than necessary, we're still wondering what it is that gives a stone value. There's beauty, but how can one measure that? There's rarity, but that is a difficult thing to quantify when the stones themselves vary so much within even a single mine. There are physical qualities such as hardness and the ability to take a polish. These are a better bet at least on the quantitative front and indeed they really do matter probably more than anything else, except, where the stone came from. There are particular qualifiers to this though and that's the particular mine from which the stone was quarried. Some mines are active today, some had a brief spurt of glory in recent times and are now lost forever under hundreds of feet of quarry tailings, while yet others were mined in prehistoric as well as historic times. One can do the calculations at home as well as can I; rarity equals value, historicity equals value, beauty equals value, yet in the end, most of what determines value is subjective at best and unmeasurable except through the most tortured of extensions. What is one to do about all this?

Well, the answer is really one for each to answer for oneself. My own attraction to Turquoise is a complex thing, but it always holds a sense of place for me. Having no true homeland myself, it reminds me of the place that claimed me so many years ago. I see the weathered rocks and the weathered faces of the natives who work the stone, the silver, and the leather into reflections of this land. But even this association is by personal experience as much as objective fact. Many wonderful stones of Persian, Tibetan, and even Chinese origin have found their way into finely crafted pieces of Southwestern Native American Jewelry. The turquoise stone is a color in the artist's palette as much anything, yet anyone who has spent any time in the American Southwest can see those skies set against the tones of the desert, and know why this stone is such an integral part of it's people's craft.