Articles

International

02/08/2021

Thank You, Simone

On Attention and Jewelry

By Saskia van Es

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity” has always been one of my favorite quotes. Lately it made me meditate on the topic of attention in the context of jewelry. I found out that the author of these words, the French philosopher, mystic, and activist Simone Weil (1909–1943), saw attention as a way to deal with human suffering. This photo essay is framed as a letter to Simone Weil, whose words I love and hopelessly misinterpreted.

Dear Simone, thank you for giving us this: "Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity." Your philosophical writings on suffering have been boiled down to a one liner on a website with inspirational quotes. It’s just as well you didn’t live to see that. But for me, even just that one misinterpreted sentence is immensely relevant. It’s not that easy, though. Jewelry people do funny things with attention. I’ll show you what I mean. || Natalia Calamari, Portrait of Simone Weil, 2020, colored pencil drawing, photo: artist

Art is consumed at an incredible rate. People spend nine seconds per artwork in a museum. As an antidote, museums organize time slots to be alone with, for example, a Rothko. Six minutes, no phone. Very intentionally you enter, and very intentionally you try to give your undivided attention to the painting. || Rothko&Me intimate experience with Mark Rothko’s painting Grey, Orange on Maroon, No. 8, 1960, at Stedelijk Museum Schiedam, The Netherlands, 2019–2020, photo: Stedelijk Museum Schiedam, The Netherlands

To give real attention is an effort. Being present. Not expecting anything from the object. Like you say, Simone: absolutely unmixed attention is like a prayer, it presupposes faith and love. But seriously, six long minutes, pfffff. How much easier it is to numb yourself with an endless stream of eye candy on the screen. I owe you an explanation here: it’s like a thousand rings and a thousand brooches screaming for your attention. Big, colorful, subversive—anything to be lifted from the mud. Try not to think of all those hours of love and hard work in every piece. It’ll drive you mad. Besides, there is no time. You swipe left or right in a split-second decision. || Saskia van Es, Collage with Annemiek Steenhuis' pendant o('!’)o (photo of jewelry: artist), courtesy of Saskia van Es

$Is that why we wear big jewelry, to get some attention in a tight window of time? Or are there other reasons? This necklace of a silver ship was on show in Amsterdam in 1994. "It must be frustrating for the lady wearing this ship," a newspaper reporter assumed, "since it distracts the attention from more interesting body parts." Where was his mind, anyway? (This remark by Volkskrant newspaper reporter Jaap Huisman was mentioned in "A Moveable Feast: Helen Williams Drutt Collection 1964–1993," Hedendaagse Sieraden.) || Richard Mawdsley, \The Pequod" Necklace, 1971, sterling silver, green onyx, carnelian, The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, Helen Williams Drutt Collection, museum purchase funded by the estate of Jack T. McCann, 2002.3951, photo: The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston$

Hey, mister journalist, there are days when you just want to go out on the street and be loud, cheer, celebrate, protest, or whatever. Thankfully, there’s jewelry to match such feelings. But the opposite is true just as often: jewelry doubles as a protective shield: if I give you something to look at, promise you’ll stay where you are. || Catarina Silva, Apotropaic Amulet, 2020, necklace, glass beads, mirrors, handmade cotton braid, bone, 2020, photo: Pedro Sequeira

A piece of jewelry can deflect unwanted or overly personal attention. The onlookers gaze can be manipulated from general vigilance into selective attention, by an object or an instruction. In the Invisible Gorilla Experiment, test subjects had to watch a ball game and count how many times a ball was thrown between the white or the black team. Half of the subjects never noticed a person in a gorilla suit crossing between the ball players. If we were not selectively attentive, all impetuses would drive us mad. But we miss more than we notice. And that can be just the desired effect of a necklace. Noli me tangere! || Catarina Silva, Apotropaic Amulet, 2020, necklace on body, glass beads, mirrors, handmade cotton braid, bone, photo: Pedro Sequeira

You chose barren conditions to lead your life, Simone, voluntarily suffering with the working class and with the soldiers. Physical intimacy did not have a place in your short life. Did you wear jewelry? A lot of meaning can be condensed into something of modest size. So, did you take any objects that connected to your inner world on your travels? Did you show it? Did anyone take notice? And were you seen? || Kun Zhang, Untitled, 2018, object/ear pins, ebony, pink ivory (wood), photo: Doreen Timmers, courtesy of Galerie Door

Once, I heard artist Noon Passama explain that her "work does not attract attention right away, but that it completes the outfit of the wearer." Commercial suicide in an economy that battles for people’s scarce attention? What do you think? || Noon Passama, Chain Anklet, 2018, cast sterling silver, white rhodium plating, photo: artist

I like to answer that with cultural anthropologist Edward Hall’s description of the four zones of "interpersonal distance" between people. How would jewelry tie in there? In Hall’s public and social space, the distance is too big for modest jewelry to attract attention. In the personal space, it has a chance. For sure, modest jewelry will unfold itself in the intimate zone, the zone where you could whisper and still be heard. Just as perfume is only meant for yourself or someone who is within intimate distance, modest jewelry is for the one who opens up to you. It won’t be noticed directly, but once detected, it can’t be forgotten. That’s the reward for being present. || Photo: Unsplash/Priscilla du Preez

Not too long ago I sat across the table from a jewelry enthusiast friend. She wore an elongated red and blue brooch. We talked about a hundred different things, but not about the brooch. It was in the corner of my eye. Still, in the time of two cups of tea, the work unfolded itself for me. It filled me with joy to be near such a nice work of art. || Jil Koehn, Utopian Drift Wood, 2018, brooch, Diomant (material created by the artist), silver, stainless steel pin, photo: Miecke Oosterman

I told her about this later. I got all lyrical about simultaneously noticing and not noticing, about unintentionality. But she brought something else up: "Why is it that people who are interested in contemporary jewelry are hardly ever interested in someone else’s choice?" Busted. My friend did not wait for me to cover up for my indifference with a hasty question. She continued to say she liked this particular brooch because the artist created the substance ‘Diomant’ herself. This prompted me to tell her about the peculiar casting process of my ring that… Wait, was this conversation about me again? || Saskia van Es wearing a bronze ring by Lorenzo Pepe, photo: Jacq Roos (detail)

It seems that the attention starts to flow as soon as jewelry goes places, between the wearer, the observer, and … the jewelry itself? When you think of the world as animated, as some artists do, these earrings come to seem alert, too. Their eyes, next to your ears and your face mask, are wide open. Eyeing who? Free them from the glass dome, put them on, and your bonus, according to the artist, will be "neck kisses all day long." || Viola Renate, Delirious Pearl Chloé, 2020, earrings, wool, findings, doll eyes, photo: Aad Hoogendoorn/Courtesy Garage Rotterdam

You can wear a piece of contemporary art jewelry on the bus, you can wear it to work, to the grocery store, and you are delivering the experience of seeing art. You don’t have to be able to buy a piece of art jewelry to experience art jewelry. We democratize art consumption." These words must appeal to an activist like you, Simone. So I wonder, did you ever spend time dreaming away on the tram? Quote from Jillian Moore, excerpted from the Jewelry Edition V5 interview series with Ashley Callahan and Luiza DeCamargo, 2020, https://www.jewelryedition.com || Jillian Moore, Druplus, 2010, brooch, photo: Saskia van Es

You’re riding the train and your gaze falls unconsciously on the earrings worn by someone sitting one seat ahead of you. It reminds you of something, and after three stops you know what. When worn in the public realm, a piece of contemporary jewelry has time on its side. Instead of screaming, it can lower its voice and tell a story. Does too much effort ruin the probability of this happening? For you, Simone, a profound attentive attitude did not seek the suffering person, nature, or a beautiful mathematical dilemma at hand. Instead, "attention consists of suspending our thought, leaving it detached, empty and ready to be penetrated by the object. || Diederick van Hovell, The Camel Humps, Force and Determination, Ring for Alice, 2019, recycled thermoformed acrylic, photo: artist

What gets on my nerves is when someone badly wants you to notice what they have on, especially when it’s in-your-face jewelry worn for the shock effect. It’s just like an overload of perfume. In that case, my first reflex is to mentally swipe it away. I’d much rather have an unforced encounter with jewelry that is simultaneously in and out of focus. If you don’t know yet what you’re looking for, you might be able to find something. || Photo: Unsplash/Vince Fleming

In our society of loud shouts for attention and competing images, there’s little time to make an impression. The piece of art jewelry that is worn in public can have the benefit of time. Paradoxically, the aftertaste of an unexpected encounter can be stronger than that of a work that is deliberately consumed in a gallery. Dear Simone, let’s get something great to wear and go out there. And let’s be generously observant. || Collage of a portrait of Simone Weil (Wikimedia Commons/anonymous photographer) and Simone Weil in Marseilles, France (Wikimedia Commons/anonymous photographer), with work by Veronika Fabian, (left) Veronika Fabian, Drunk Chain, 2020, necklace, metal vodka bottle, (right) Veronika Fabian, Chain Diet, 2020, necklace, leather belt, images from Veronika Fabian courtesy of IloveChains.com AI Fitting Room

Saskia van Es

Art historian Saskia van Es (Amsterdam, 1972) writes about contemporary jewelry for Dutch and international platforms such as Klimt02 and AJF. She recently started teaching at Sint Lucas Antwerp, in Belgium. During her time on the board of the Françoise van den Bosch Foundation, she discovered that there were many more facets to jewelry than she had thought. A theme she keeps returning to is jewelry materials: gold, pearls, gems, animal materials, plastics, and other man-made stuff. Rich, often mythical stories are told about each, but the sourcing of these materials can be harmful. This fascinating tension is also part of a piece of jewelry.