Spoons

As a kid, my mother had the big fancy wooden box filled with the good silver. Every now and then or before a major party, we’d have to help her polish it. I remember the dusty, musty, faint metallic aroma of the cloth as we polished until all the tarnish came off. Back then it was only for special occasions which made these moments more significant and memorable. It’s these childhood memories of generations of family and connections that come up when I make spoons.

I make spoons, not forks or knives. There is something whole and complete about a spoon, the circular bowl that can be filled or empty. A spoon is gentle, it can’t cut or poke anything, it scoops gently. Something whose purpose is to be held, not worn. Curvy and sculptural like jewelry - but not. I’ve made them as 2 separate pieces, or from one single piece of metal wire, and then finally cut from sheet metal with figures added on to the end of the handle. These images were taken from street photographers from the 40’s and 50’s - immigrants or 1st generation.

My first inspiration was from a street photo of my mother from the 1940’s which eventually turned into ‘The Chengellian Woman’ a study in proportion, geometry, and other worlds.