Garnets

I first fell in love with garnets in the Czech Republic. Prague in October is dark, cold, the buildings mostly of dark stone and concrete, a perfect compliment to the national gem. Of course I went during a different time, in a different world, which is to say 1999. The Euro was not yet instated as national currency, my father-in-law, who paid for our trip was still alive, as was our host, Mila, and the aunt who also stayed in the room next to us. My goal at the time was to "achieve Poland," and so on the way to the Polish border, my in-laws and my husband and me, Mila driving the tiny Soviet-era car, we stopped at the national garnet (granat) jewlery store along the way to the mountains, we met garnets. Though I'd inherited a tiny engagement ring from my grandmother, my husband had never taken me to a jewlery store to pick out a ring, even after 9 years of marriage. Czech garnets are orange in undercolor, not the wishy-washy pink and purple. Set in pale, heavy gold, the jewlery was as austere and darkly handsome as the surrounding Eastern European autumn landscape.

At the national store, I found a 10 carat garnet cabachon in heavy Czech gold surrounded by ten other stones, a wonderfully unique design my father-in-law thought too "Ruskaya" but later, away from the store, everyone (including my inlaws) admired. My father-in-law bought me an overwhelmingly nice garnet tennis bracelet. The store manager pulled out his best treasures, seeing Americans brashly and carelessly spending money. It was that kind of time. The stock market was booming, dot coms brought unprecedented forms of wealth to California and Californians, and we did not yet have children. My teaching jobs allowed me as much time off as I could afford. It was a good time, and I'm sure it showed. My mother-in-law plucked up a pave garnet bangle, a pendant, solid gold chains. Then the masterpiece was brought out, a choker of tiny, polished, faceted garnet gems. It was a million kroners, or whatever the Czech currency was at the time (my father-in-law protected us from fiscal transactions). My husband generously offered to get it to me, but I would not allow him to get me anything that cost a million of anything, even a currency I didn't completely understand. The garnets, tiny, yet of rare gem quality, caught the light and reflected it back as brightly as lights. This is the true magic of gems, that they capture, rather than reflect, light within their brightness. Instead, I picked out a heavy pendant that matched my ring, to which my husband added a heavy solid-gold chain that was opera-length.

But I never really forgot the magic garnet necklace. At my favorite consignment store, which sometimes unwittingly gets beautiful jewelry the clientele don't expect, I found a wonderful necklace I had appraised at a jeweler down the street before I purchased it. It is 2 pieces that together create a longer necklace and apart create a choker and a bracelet. It's strung on wire and features oval-shaped faceted garnets, with only enough occlusions to prove the stones are real, every ten separated by flower-shaped 14k gold beads. The entire piece was $75.

Then, for Christmas 2003, my husband got me a string of ruby beads, not perfect but all very bright, which we had strung and knotted into a necklace. My Japanese friend June, comparing pre-child jewels one evening during her visit, loved this piece best for its brightness. But though the rubies are more valuable than the garnets, and the necklace is a showpiece, the austerity and the dignity of the garnets was somehow missing.

In 2006, a local boutique featured a piece, a pendant strung on a chain of tiny faceted garnets for $500. The price tag alone reignited the search--because I was sure that somewhere I could find the same piece for at least 1/10 the price. I found a decent string of garnet beads on Ebay for $16. They're ruby garnets, without the more exotic orange undertones, but more of a pure red than purple. The stones are handcut, but not brightly faceted; however, each stone is unique and the stones have true fire. The resulting necklace I created from them, a choker hand knotted by a Chinatown jeweler on white cotton, has the original somber appeal of a Czech piece, matching well with a pave garnet Old World double-octagon brooch I inherited from my grandmother. The jeweler and I debated the merits of white cotton (vs. silk, which I finds rots away in no time) for the necklace, but I like the results. She also disagreed on the simplicity of the design, wanting to add other stones and a pendant, thinking the result too plain, but I believe I won her over with the final product. When Melissa O'Brien(islandartstudio.com) and I last made jewelry together, she had strings of bright, tiny ruby and iolite. I was able to pass up the flashing red of the rubies for the cool indigo of the iolite. The piece we made is a bright, reflective thin chain of solid stones, strung on stainless wire coated with gold, with a brass toggle clasp (final price, $40).

I could swear my last garnet necklace has brought me luck. Certainly it successfully completed my need for garnets.