Regarding threads past and present, I’d thought some may be
interested in an essay that I wrote for the Seattle Metals Guild
newsletter regarding quality. I believe it will be reprinted in
SNAG News as well. With all do respect to Virginia, I beliecve
that she may be missing the point of the pieces in the SNAG
catalogue. Remeber… it’s all about intent, Andy
Cooperman
QUALITY
by Andy Cooperman
Driving home from Pratt one evening I heard an advertisement for
a large and well known jewelry business. This particular jeweler
–who, it turns out, “is my friend in the diamond business”-- is
a large mainstream establishment that deals in safe, uninspired,
bread and butter, pump it to the masses, “affordably” priced
jewelry. The radio spot was one in a series featuring a variety
of employees sharing their personal histories and some of their
thoughts about making a career w/ this establishment… Their
enthusiasm for the company was so inspiring and their behind the
veil glimpse into the company so reassuring that my faith in the
big world of commerce was practically restored. I was moved. I
was also irritated and fairly disgusted.
The word “quality” is being bantered about with out, it seems,
any regard for its definition : adj. having a high degree of
excellence. The “bench jeweler” in the radio spot explained how
each piece is carefully constructed with each customer in mind
and lavished w/ attention to details of fit and finish. You
could really tell that quality was a point of pride with this
gentleman, and so w/ his company, and that their merchandise was
“crafted” in the truest sense of the word. (Another over and
misapplied word: consider the “craft brewer”.) Trouble was, I
couldn’t knock the real image of their merchandise out of my
mind. Shoddy polishes lead to poorly set stones; corners that
are meant to be sharp are rounded by being forced into the
tripoli wheel; designs that may have been crisp on the rendering
board are mushy and flaccid in production. Surely this business
has the right to consider the quality of their product superior.
But if they have any experience in the jewelry trade at all
they must know the truth: just look in the cases.
Perhaps what they mean to say is that the quality of their
merchandise is appropriate to the prices that they charge.; after
all you get what you pay for. (“Whadda ya want for 99.95?”).
But their pretense to old world craftsmanship and the one-of -a -
kind posture that they seek to project is insulting.; and the
public doesn’t seem to care. Certainly a portion of the buying
public could be educated as to what are the hallmarks (clever
jewelry pun) of quality craftsmanship and materials; but the
majority are satisfied with the status quo. While there is a
chicken- and - egg partnership between what the public wants
and what the manufacturer, craftsman and vendor offers, what I
find so disturbing is not so much the public’s lowered
expectations , but the willingness of the “craftsman” to produce
a substandard or merely adequate product and clothe it in the
rhetoric of quality. It seems that simply attaching the word
“quality” to something is enough to make it so in peoples’ minds.
A recent thread on “Orchid” (orchid@ganoksin.com), an internet
forum on jewelry and metalsmithing, has been occupied with the
idea of quality. What is quality? What are personal standards
involving quality? How far should you go to provide it? Many
old timers log on and their experience, insight and points of
view are invaluable. One post lamented the mall redefinition of
the term “custom” from meaning an object built from scratch to
fill the particular needs and desires of the client to an object
assembled from prefabricated, factory produced die struck
elements chosen from columns A, B and C. The commitment to the
piece just isn’t there. What was at one time a fully realized,
carefully considered piece is now part of the equation of
commodification. The notion of “quality” is simply one element
that has, at best, equal weight to the other elements of labor,
material cost, packaging and volume and, at worst, no weight at
all. And maybe this is okay --w/in the venue of mass production:
high volume and rock bottom price tags.
But when the image of the craftsman is evoked things change.
It becomes personal. Real hands, connected to real people who
are governed by real brains which, hopefully, ponder real issues
of ethical import are involved in the making of a piece. Real
senses of pride and accomplishment come into play and so
personal standards are established. These standards, of course,
vary from person to person and from job to job, but for the maker
who really believes in the making they can supersede matters of
hourly wage and the price bid. To be sure, a base line for
quality can be drawn on absolute standards: an object must
conform to the accepted standards of the industry. For jewelry
this would include solid connections, thick enough material, even
finishes, etc. More specifically, for the metal smith or art
jeweler, I believe that the selection of materials and the
commitment to craftsmanship should never interfere w/ the intent
or content of the piece. If for instance the object at hand were
a cube, then the attention to edge, surface, line and corner
should be such that nothing stands between the “cubeness” of the
piece and the viewer. Sloppy, rounded edges become a veil that
obscures what the piece is about. With mainstream jewelry
formal concerns and quality of material are what the piece is
about and so their excellence becomes paramount. Jewelry is an
art form that carries some baggage, wearability and intent being
two big ones. Pins stuck on as an after thought (“look, it’s a
brooch and a tree pruner”) are, to me, bothersome and indicative
of lack of faith in the initial piece, especially when the
“brooch” hangs wrong or simply won’t function well.
Quality is a matter of personal responsibility. As a student I
would often seek out my instructor and thrust my piece under his
nose asking if it was “done” : either clean enough to solder
(regardless of its encrustation of fossilized pickle) or ready to
go to the rouge wheel despite the gashes that I’d just inflicted
upon it with a flailing #2 mill bastard file. It was as if his
nod was dispensation, justifying my incomplete workmanship . I
certainly knew better; I possessed eyes and a rudimentary tactile
sense that could distinguish between a smooth and even surface
and one cratered like the moon. The point is that I wouldn’t
acknowledge my capacity to discern or define what is quality.
(And doesn’t the buying public suffer from this lack of
confidence; aren’t they looking to the makers to tell them what
is good?) But at some point-- in a blinding flash of epiphonic
insight–the answer came to me:. It’s ready when it looks
ready. No amount of squinting, head tilting or hand jiggling
will make the piece right when it’s not right. Wow, that
realization, that commitment to honesty, was a turning point.
Something marvelous happens when I pick up a piece of jewelry
that is well made. I usually say “Man, this guy really knew
what he was doing,” (no gender slight intended). If the piece is
old, with no known provenance it becomes perhaps the only
tangible manifestation of who, on one level, this person was.
That piece communicates volumes to those who understand the
language of craftsmanship.
If a piece is significantly wrong-- that is, there is
something about it that interferes w/ what I’m driving at–I’ll
redo it. But to be honest, as perfect as I’d like to try to be,
the unfortunate truth is that the bottom line is out there
lurking somewhere and I occasionally slip, cramming that
substandard ring into the shipping box, getting it onto the UPS
truck and crossing my fingers. (There’s really nothing more that
I can do once that truck rolls away… ) But every time the
phone rings for a while I’m apprehensive. And maybe that’s one
thing that keeps me straight: the knowledge that one day someone
else-- some other craftsman-- is going to pick up that piece and
say “Man, this guy really cared .”
and the