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ORNAMENT 15 (4)1992
CARA CRONINGER LUMINOUS PLASTIC JEWERLY
By Toni Greenbaum
Humanity's eagerness
for experimentation in the twentieth century has
not only radically
affected technology and industry, but our own physical appearance and the
manner by which we adorn ourselves.
Plastic, an invention
which dates to the mid-1800's was initially used
prior to World
War II to decorate the wealthy; then later spread to the
masses as industry
greatly eased the cost of its application. Now, as the
end of the century
nears, plastic is an exciting tool in the hands of artists. Exceptional
contemporary artists, such as Thomas Gentille,
Pavel Opocensky
and Lisa Gralnick have transformed the role of plastic
as a creative instrument
with use of acrylic, Color core (color through
plastic laminate
granite imitation, also made by Formica) or Surrel
(a granite imitation,
also made by Formica).
Perhaps because it was considered historically only within the context
of costume jewelry,
critics have not always held jewelry made from
plastic in high
regard. Its greatest advantages were that it was inexpensive
to manufacture and could easily be decorated. The most
inspired application,
Bakelite (the first completely synthetic plastic)
was used or jewelry
and small objects during the 1030s and early
1940s. But,
as well designed and charming as vintage Bakelite jewelry
can be, it has
an anonymous character and in, in most cases, was only
a novel fashion
accessory. It took artists like Cara Croninger to push
their limit; then
plastic as a serious medium for jewelry came into its
own.
The early 1970s heraled an energetic and creative foray into the use
of plastics for
jewerly. Craftspeople like Albert Paley, Stanley Lechtzin,
Claus Bury and
Cara Croniger began making extraordinary jewelry
with acrylics,
epoxy resins and polyester resins. Even the watershed
museum exhibition,
Jewelry as Sculpture as jewelry, organized by
the Institute of
Contemporary Art in Boston in 1973, included bracelets
cast from polyester
resin by Croninger. However, where Paley's work
was structural,
Lechtzin's jewelry organic and Bury's pieces mechanistic,
Croninger's contributions
were primitive and spiritual and unlike the
others, Croninger
did not make jewelry from metal first, or combine
it with metal,
but, in fact approached plastic as its own
raison d'etre.
Born in Grand Rapids, Michigan
and the youngest of seven
children, she was
raised on a small, self-sufficient dairy farm. She
attributes much
of her positive attitudes toward hard work and
physical labor,
as well as respect for the shapes and colors found in
natural forms,
such as rocks and trees, to those formative years.
While living in
the lake country, she developed an acute color memory,
which aids her
to this day.
On the farm, nothing was wasted. This philosophy led to innovativeness
in utilizing available resources. For example, if a
fence needed to
be built, it was constructed from scavenged stones,
collected from
around the property. This need to do the best with what
is accessible has
informed Croninger's jewelry. The tiniest shards of
leftover plastic
and bits of pigmented resin (which she will often dump
into an unrelated
pouring) are kept because she cannot bear to
discard anything.
But it is just these bursts of spontaneity which create
the unexpected
details that are the hallmarks of her unique style.
Croninger's
use of plastic began out necessity a decade after she moved
to New York in
1961. She gave birth to her first daughter in 1962,
and then another
in 1967. In order to support them, she made and sold
hand-stitched leather
belts and engraved cowhide wrap skirts, figuring
that she could
increase her income by doing multiples of something.
Croninger, eventually
turned to plastics, and she learned over the years
to expertly control
the material.
Her cavernous work space is located in a former Brooklyn foundry
where subway parts
were once made. Large blocks of polyester resin,
arranged by color,
line the walls. Interspersed among them are molds
of various types,
sizes and shapes. For example, Croninger uses plastic
lock-top refrigerator
containers to cast blocks for earrings. She fills
these receptacles
with layers of different colored resins, which when hardened will be
removed from the mold and sliced on an electric band saw
saw. These
slices, after being ground and polished will ultimately be
fitted with silver
wires and become earrings- often miniature studies
in transparency
and opacity, determined by the thinness or thickness
of the particular
slice.
Her well known heart and cuff bracelets are cast in silicone molds.
Each mold can accommodate
several pieces and appears much larger
then the finished
jewerly because polyester resin shrinks about seven
percent during
the hardening stage. After the pendants and bracelets
come out of the
mold, they are ground further and polished (or not)
until the desired
finish is achieved.
The hundreds of beads for her necklaces, which, organized by shape
with and color,
occupy low tables in the center of the studio, are carved
with a hammer and
chisel from chunks of resin which she has cast.
She chooses the
beads for each necklace by their color, shape, size and
texture.
The beads are strung on leather thongs in configurations
often replete with
unexpected arrangements and color combinations.
Most designs are
unplanned; she takes her cues from the beads
themselves and
the spirit of the moment. She might begin a necklace
by stringing the
beads in a predominantly earth brown palette, but
uses a purple bead
as the next to the last unit, setting up a tension,
or a feeling of
spontaneity.
Croninger's beads and pendants incorporate imperfections into their
overall design.
There is a feeling of natural growth in her plastic
elements, much
like that found in a rock or mineral. She might work
a blob of contrasting
color (which has accidentally fallen into the
mixture) a spider
web effect caused by the agitating colors or an
accidental color
in the polyester resin or acrylic, into her scheme.
the jewelry is
extremely tactile, with textures varying from a smooth,
high sheen to a
rough matte finish, where even the tiny lines created
by the saw are
placed in such a manner as to add yet another dimension
and inhance overall
design. An acknowledged master of her medium,
in 1989 she was
invited to speak to the American Association of
Industrial Designers
about her techniques. She is an innovator,
having devised
a method for staining and painting the inside of her
resin bangle bracelet
so that when light passes through the unevenly
faceted outer portions,
optical illusions are created. For example, the
color and intensity
vary depending upon the angle from which one views
the bracelet.
Although plastic resembles glass, Croninger can achieve
colors which glass
makers cannot get in their hot mixes. She has
developed ways
of heat-forming plastic into rounded, curly shapes
and embedding substances
as diverse as mylar and twenty-four
karat gold in
clear resin. Often the polyester resin is reminiscent
of natural materials,
such as amber, coral or lignite. Sometimes the
material is indefinable,
but the jewerly is always sensual; it draws the
viewer nearer,
to inspect and touch. Croniger believes that if people
get "close" enough
to the jewelry, they will respond to it."
As she travels between ancient and modern shapes, Croninger
continues a personal
search to understand the healing powers of color
and light on the
human psyche. Her aim is to express primitive,
non-geometretric,
organic images through modern materials and
technology.
In fact, her pendants and hearts have a definite amulet
quality to them.
Women have brought their Cara Croninger hearts
to cardiac surgery,
and one collector, when she was about to give
birth, took her
pendant to the hospital as a meditative talisman, to
aid her Lamaze
procedure. Others swear they will never remove the
bangles she made
for them.
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Copyright (c)Cara Croninger 2001
