Lacy Economics: How and Why I Mastered Filigree
As we all freak out over precious metal prices (and unthinkable violence, the loss of democracy, the patriarchy being all too alive and well…), I’ve been remembering how it felt when I was a beginning metalsmith and, ironically, the partially economic reasons that I first became good at filigree.

Silver was $3.11 ozt by the time I had the opportunity to learn how to do tension-fitted (aka Russian) filigree from artist-in-residence Gia Gogishvili. (We’re talking 1991 here.) I’d been so looking forward to Gia’s demo, but I got the flu and missed those days, so had to piece together what he showed by looking at what the other students had made. And wow, did I get the process all wrong!

I’d opted to use whatever bits of wire I had on hand for the frame so I didn’t have to buy more silver – My wire was totally the wrong size and shape! – plus I only twisted my filler wire about 20% of the way before milling it. I completely set myself up for failure! In fact, as desperately as I wanted to do the technique, I quickly gave up on it, mistakenly believing filigree just wasn’t for me. I threw myself into all things Eastern repoussé instead.

4.5 x 1.5 x 1.5 in
One late night in the metals studio when I was frantically working on a project that was due, I saw another student working on a larger filigree piece and loving every minute of it. I found her enthusiasm totally bizarre because she usually never stopped complaining that she should have been a sculpture major instead. She absolutely hated doing anything small and “tedious,” yet she was happy working with tiny wires and doing a good job.
When I asked why she suddenly liked doing filigree, she replied, “Oh, you get to make up the pieces to your own puzzle!” In full disclosure, I knew better than to ask what things she’d figured out in order to get good at filigree so quickly because she wasn’t my biggest fan, so I quietly set about figuring things out on my own and watched Gia make filigree domes on the rare occasions he wasn’t hammering.

Money was super tight back then, and silver felt truly precious at less than $4/ozt. This was the early 90s, so that wasn’t quite as little money as it sounds now, although it still pales in comparison to silver’s creeping over $100/ozt.
Careful of every dime I spent on supplies in those days, whenever I would get an idea for a larger piece, I’d consider in which techniques I wanted to create it. I’ve always loved hammering details in relief, but I’d consider the weight and cost of the required silver sheet (and have long since embraced copper sheet!). I quickly realized that working a larger design in filigree took less metal by weight without sacrificing the dramatic scale in which I loved to work, so becoming accomplished at filigree was in large part due to the economics.

Filigree’s originality lies in forming it in unexpected ways as I do now with 3D filigree. Filigree’s real cost, however, has always been in the labor (of love) of it. The more I worked in the technique, the more I became intrigued by its possibilities. I’d figured out that it could be formed like sheet years before I had time to pioneer the process. The delay was largely due to the economics of being a single mother (and later the primary bread-winner), keeping a roof over our heads by making one-of-a-kind wearable art.

Thankfully, that extreme pressure eased up a bit some years ago. If I’m honest though, boredom with relatively flat filigree (and my need to rebel) drove me to experiment with dimensional structures before it might have made business sense, which turned out to be a great move because collectors loved my 3D filigree. The more wild and convoluted, the better!
The key is in learning how those tension-fitted filler wires are willing to bend on the “wrong” axis…and also, of course, in that pesky word, practice. Fortunately, it still doesn’t take much metal to make stunning work.
“Each act of making becomes a small act of quiet resistance to all the noisy unmaking that’s going on around us.”
FROM “HOW TO STAY THE COURSE” ON THE LIFEBOAT BY ARTIST AND WRITER SAMANTHA CLARK
