A Sensory Introduction: Dust and Bone
The first thing I noticed about working with deer antler... was the smell. As soon as the first saw blade touched the surface, the classroom was filled with a pungent, animalistic aroma, a reminder that this material once belonged to a living creature. Someone also had the idea of heating up the antler with fire, and it really smelled like a barbecue in there.
Then, there was the dust. It’s persistent and pervasive. Even when I wasn't sawing, a stray breeze from a classmate’s workbench would send a cloud of antler dust drifting my way. Despite the mess, there was an incredible spark of excitement in the room. Handling a material with such organic "bark-like" grooves felt like a bridge between the forest and the jeweler’s bench.
To be honest, I wasn't sure about handling a material that was once part of an animal's body, but after learning that the antlers provided to us were obtained via natural means, I was very thankful and relieved. Apparently, deers shed their antlers every year!
The Concept: Capturing the Beauty of Mountain Scenery
My vision for this piece was "Flowers Falling from a Mountain Rain". The antler had these deep, brown grooves that looked exactly like ancient tree bark, and I wanted to preserve that.
Vision this: Silver streams, the organic texture of the bone, and delicate silver flowers on chains. I got this idea while in the shower and honestly, that's where I'm always feeling the most inspiration.
I used the lost wax casting method to build a silver frame around the bone. I carved "rivulets" of water into the wax, intended to flow perfectly within the antler's natural grooves, with streams of "water" and flowers curving around the frame.
If you're wondering how the antler stays in the frame, honestly, I wondered too. I had the idea, but none of the skills, so I did get some help from my teacher. It's basically going to be held in by claws at the back of the frame, similar to how gemstones are set. I preferred this method because I really didn't want to use glue, even if that was an option open to us.
The Casting Crisis: When Design Meets Reality
I ran into a major roadblock after casting my wax piece. The silver rivulets were too thick (I had made them thick to be safe for casting), and they completely obscured the antler’s grooves. My "mountain" looked crowded and flat.
I took the piece to my teacher, and we had a breakthrough conversation. She suggested two major changes:
1. Thinning the metal: Reduce the number of "rivulets'" and filing down the remaining silver rivulets to make them delicate enough to let the antler shine through.
2. The Art of Depth: As a beginner, I thought everything had to be pushed flush into a frame. She showed me that by soldering tiny points into the frame, I could set the antler shallower. By creating space between the silver and the bone, the shadows and textures stood out far more vividly.
The Pivot: "Less is More"
Originally, I planned to have delicate chains crisscrossing the front of the piece like a heavy downpour. But looking at the casted silver and the antler together, I realized it was becoming too busy.
I decided to adapt. I reduced the number of chains and changed the layering. I attached tiny silver flowers set with pink stones, making it look like blossoms falling during a gentle mountain rain. This change allowed the contrast between the dark brown antler and the bright silver to really shine.
Reflections: Successes and Lessons
Looking at the finished pendant, I’ve realized that jewelry making is an exercise in constant adaptation. I'm pretty sure that with more experience on the bench, I would have better control over the creative process from start to finish. At my level, my ideas are bigger than what I can do, and often not very balanced. More practice needed!
The Successes: I love the play of textures. The texture of water streams and flowers carved in cold metal, standing out against the organic grooves of the antler is incredibly satisfying to look at. The contrast of colors is exactly what I hoped for.
The Lessons: If I were to do it again, I would be more daring with the shape. To preserve the texture, I kept a "fat," substantial piece of antler, which made the pendant feel a bit inelegant in its silhouette. I also think I could have processed the antler more creatively rather than just cutting a shape. (Antler is great for carving, and seeing beautiful carved antler jewelry does make me feel like I could have done more with the material.)
I have plenty of antler left in my toolbox, and now that I know how to navigate the dust and the depth, I can't wait to see what the next "season" brings.