Controlled Decay: Why I Spend Hours Working Against the Shine

Controlled Decay: Why I Spend Hours Working Against the Shine

There is a common misconception that new jewelry should be mirror bright. In mass-market retail, a heavy polish is often used to mask a lack of depth. It acts as a shiny surface for generic forms. In my studio, I do the exact opposite. I spend hours working against that shine to find the truth of the object.

The Contrast of the Fractal

The designs I create are born from what I call generative dreams. I use mathematical simulations of biological fractals and life forms to grow shapes that feel more like nature than manufacture. These structures are filled with deep valleys, sharp ridges, and porous architectures.

If I left these pieces clean and shiny, the eye would slip right over the detail. You would not see the complexity; you would just see a reflection. To honor the geometry, I have to introduce shadow.

The Alchemy of the Hand

After a piece is cast in high density silver here in Haarlem, Netherlands, the digital part of the process is over. The machine is set aside, and the real grit begins. Turning a raw casting into a finished artifact is a grueling, multi hour process that happens entirely at the workbench.

I use a manual oxidation process to darken the silver, sinking deep black tones into the recessed valleys of the fractal. This is not a paint or a coating. It is a chemical reaction with the metal itself that I manage by hand.

Then comes the most demanding part: the hand polishing. I have to carefully work back the peaks, which are the high points of the geometry, to reveal the raw luster of the silver while keeping the shadows intact in the crevices. A machine cannot make these decisions. It takes a human eye to decide exactly where the shadow should stay and where the light should hit.

A Brutalist Reality

The result is what I call a Brutalist finish. It makes the piece look like an industrial artifact that has survived for centuries. It feels like something excavated from a future ruin.

Every piece is unique because the oxidation reacts differently to every session at the wheel. When you hold one of these objects, you are feeling the tension between perfect mathematical logic and the raw, imperfect sweat of the studio. I do not want these pieces to look like they came off a conveyor belt. I want them to look like they have a history, even if that history was forged by my own hands just a few hours ago.