A remarkable group of
Faberge . Jewelry by this famous Russian goldsmith is rare and
his are rarer still. A photograph of three together is
unprecedented.
The Victoria & Albert Museum Chronicles Great Jewels
and Titled Owners
By Karla Klein Albertson
LONDON - Great jewels have inspired hot passions and dark deeds
through the ages, so no one should be surprised that -- assembled
from hundreds of important gems -- embody the triumph, excess and
decline of the most privileged people in the world. "," the
exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum through July 14,
and its accompanying catalogs decisively chronicle the glory and
pain of the heads that wore them.
The delightful and puckish Geoffrey C. Munn, a managing director
of the venerable Wartski firm, is the driving force behind ","
gathering more than 200 actual diadems for the exhibition and
producing not one but two books. Tiara: Past and Present,
available at the V&A, pictures only pieces on display in the
museum show, which includes an extensive selection of fanciful
modern examples.
The chief monument to Munn's industry is the massive : A
History of Splendour (Antique Collectors' Club, 2001), which
will remain the definitive work on the subject for many years to
come. The author claims not to be a scholar, yet the depth of
research on this project is formidable. Munn has not only located
-- in some cases, rediscovered -- the for the show, he has also
tracked period paintings and photographs of the objects, on and
off various well-coifed heads.
Sometimes of the jewelry is shown in several states as the tiara
was altered over time, while certain historic pieces once
recorded are now lost. He was even able to find a number of
original artist design drawings for the works. Obviously no
simple bracelet salesman, Munn has written other equally
fascinating studies, including Castellani and Giuliano:
Revivalist Jewellers of the 19th Century.
Amethyst and diamond tiara in the form of vine leaves, circa
1870. In the law of precious stones, the amethyst stands for
devotion. Courtesy the Marquess of Tavistock and the Trustees
of the Bedford Estates.
When talking with Munn, it quickly becomes apparent that his
position at Wartski -- famous for jewelry with interesting
stories attached, such as an acrostic bracelet given by Napoleon
to his sister -- is the ideal starting place for these
researches. The firm has been jewelers to various members of the
British royal family from Queen Mary on. "When you work in a
stuffy old jewelry shop in London, deeply steeped in tradition,
these things turn up," he says mildly. "The tiara that was made
for the Duchess of Angouleme was in the safe the day I joined
Wartski, 30 years ago almost to the day. It was made from the
French crown jewels for the daughter of Louis XVI -- but we
didn't know this, it was in the safe as an emerald and diamond
tiara, although it had a blazing appeal. It is absolutely
untouched; there are 1,021 diamonds and 44 emeralds."
He continues, "Obviously, I was amazed by but I didn't think of
them as a subject until I thought of the Samaritans, a counseling
charity with which I have connections." So Munn opens his tiara
history with an interesting story about their amazing fundraising
capabilities. In 1911, Cartier on Bond Street had an exhibition
of 19 worn at the Coronation of King George V and Queen Mary for
the benefit of a charitable foundation in memory of her brother.
Thousands of visitors paid a guinea a head to file past the
display that became a jewelry trade legend. With this in mind,
Wartski put on a show, "One Hundred - An Evolution of Style,
1800-1900," at their Grafton Street premises in March 1997 to
benefit the Samaritans. In spite of long queues outside, more
than 5,500 eventually visited the exhibition.
Wartski followed up with another fine display of at the
International Fine Art and Antiques Dealers Show in New York in
October 1998, which included some impressive Cartier from the
firm's museum in Geneva. The popularity of these projects caused
Munn to write: "The exhibition at Wartski and those that quickly
followed it revealed the deep fascination with which continue to
be regarded by the public, despite the fact that they are now
seldom seen."
After organizing this major museum exhibition in 2002, Munn
continued, "...I hope I have managed to convey some idea of the
hauteur and elegance that raises these dramatic objects to the
position of supremacy they hold over every other type of
jewelry."
While there may be jewelers and serious collectors who view the
exhibition strictly from the technical aspect of carats and cut,
what makes so riveting as sociology is how precious objects
relate to a gilded world of privilege and the fortunate few who
inhabited that universe in past ages. In the catalog chapter
devoted to "Russia and the Russian Style," a painting shows the
wedding of Tsar Nicholas II and Princess Alix in 1894; the
beautiful bride -- never suspecting her fate -- wears a diadem of
pink diamonds and a jeweled nuptial crown, now in Marjorie
Merriweather Post's Hillwood Museum in Washington, D.C. Later in
the section, a photograph from 1925 shows the Soviet government
inventorying piles of jewelry taken from the nobility they had
overthrown.
While the principal focus rests on British gems and owners,
Munn's research also covers commissioned and worn in Europe and
even America, keeping in mind that the rich tend to intermarry
and carry their possessions along with them. Consuelo, the
daughter of William Vanderbilt who became Duchess of Marlborough
in England, is shown dressed and crowned for the Coronation of
1902. She looks very wealthy but unhappy, and Munn notes, "The
Duchess took no pleasure in these remarkable ornaments which she
came to regard as a metaphor for the coldness of her marriage."
Examining the construction of the and the period illustrations of
various wearers, it becomes clear why the author must devote a
chapter to "Dressing the Hair 1750-1950." As hairstyles changed
over the years, slipped up and down from top of the crown to brow
level. The Empress Josephine's court liked them forehead height
while Queen Victoria wore hers in what is considered "normal
position" across the front of the hair - except on one famous
occasion when she was painted by Winterhalter in 1842 with a
sapphire and diamond tiara (designed by husband Albert) wrapped
around the bun at the back of her head.
At the time Consuelo Vanderbilt was photographed in the early
Twentieth Century, elaborate Gilded Age coiffures had forced the
tiara to a coronet perch high on the assembled hairmass. By the
1920s, shingled bobs gave jewelry nothing to cling to, so
gem-encrusted bandeaus were strapped on right across the
forehead. After a return to normality in the 1940s and 1950s,
bouffant hair was back with a vengeance in the 1960s, forcing
stylists to sneak the tiara in wherever it would fit.
Munn is at his best telling some of the stories he turned up
during his research. One lucky find was an unusual photograph in
his book of Margaret, Duchess of Argyll. Why does she have her
eyes shut? "She was a very naughty girl," he explains. "What a
photograph -- she's the naughtiest girl in England! When I was
preparing this book, someone wanted me to look at a ring in a
photograph and tell them what it was. And there was this picture
of the Duchess of Argyll in an enormous turquoise tiara at the
Jewels of Empire Ball, held at the Park Lane Hotel in 1930. Cole
Porter put her in the lyrics of 'You're the Top,' where she was
compared to some of his favorite things including the Louvre
Museum and Camembert cheese. She had luminous nail varnish. That
was just sheer luck."
A diamond tiara, probably English, circa 1900. This jewel was a
favorite of Princess Marina, Duchess of Kent. Courtesy Their
Royal Highnesses Prince and Princess Michael of Kent.
Then he adds, "She was perfectly all right until she went to
catch the elevator and it wasn't there and she went down four
floors. She turned into a complete nymphomaniac -- I'm not making
it up. She was photographed with a Polaroid camera in an attitude
all too familiar. She was married to one of our premier dukes,
but she was accused of adultery in a lurid divorce case in 1963,
and she died penniless in a nursing home in Pimlico in 1993.
Someone's making a film about her because she's very famous." All
that information about just one tiara.
Having proven that money cannot buy happiness, Munn is very clear
that only extraordinary conditions of wealth and patronage can
buy the type of artistry shown in the . All the diadems from the
elegant circlets worn in David's painting of Napoleon's court to
the Twentieth Century designs of Lalique and Cartier can stand
alone as works of art. In spite of the changes in society, one
can still buy a tiara in a shop like Wartski. The curator states
frankly, "We have seven or eight in the shop at any one time --
and we always think we're mad when we buy them!
"I tried to point out in the book that there has been a leveling
of society," Munn says in conclusion. "I for one would be in the
servants' hall. So a level society is brilliant, but it's not
brilliant for works of art because the best works of art come
from the most unequal societies. So the greatest snuffboxes come
from Eighteenth Century France, and Faberge flourished in Russia
before the Revolution.
"Such things are incorruptible -- unlike the palaces and dress,
they never change. The owners think they have some relationship
with the jewelry, but it's the people who are like a little puff
of air. Through precious objects like these , we can still look
through a tiny keyhole into a world of unimaginable luxury."
Visitors to London this summer can view "" through July 14 at
the Victoria & Albert Museum on Cromwell Road in South
Kensington. For information, www.vam.ac.uk or 44 (0)20 7942 2000.
Order : A History of Splendour, $75 hardcover, directly from
Antique Collectors' Club, www.antiquecc.com or 800-252-5231.
