Pru's Story: A ring to mark her ancestry
From the very first, it was clear that Pru's ring would be a very special commission. While there was no tangible idea of a design at our initial meeting, we had a sense of what the ring would symbolise and the importance of the materials to be remodelled. We discussed the ways in which we can remodel family heirlooms, and by our second meeting, Pru had a brilliant sketch and the collaboration began!
We are very grateful to share Pru's own words on her ancestry ring:
"Inherited rings are a complicated thing when you know you won’t have an heir to pass them on to. They sit, little glittering fragments, tucked away in dark corners; fading memories of the people who once wore them. People in the process of being entirely lost to the expanse of time.
It was through the process of reflecting on the incomprehensible unlikeliness of my own existence, as an antidote to a recurring sense of despair, that I came to the idea of commissioning a ring with the talented team at Justin Duance. As someone who stands at the end of a family line, I wanted to honour all the chance encounters and life decisions that had led to my life sparking into being. Against all the odds, an unbroken chain starting with the first glimmers of life on this planet lead to me, existing at a time and in a place when despite immense comforts and security, the uncertainties and changes in the world-at-large can feel hard to cope with. I wanted a visual reminder I could carry on my body which said ‘Be grateful. Know that your life will be fleeting, don’t forget to enjoy it.’
Over several meetings at the workshop Jamila guided me through the process and supported me to load my ring with symbolism and meaning, helping me to navigate my fears of deconstructing old jewellery and reassuring me about getting the finish I wanted. We took stones from the rings of my grandma, from my nan, and from my paternal great-grandmother, and arranged them along with a garnet I found on the bank of the river Thames, in the city of my birth. My dad was sent on an errand to a favourite childhood beach, tupperware in hand, to gather sand for the casting process. The stones were nothing special - along with my own mud-larked garnet, they included tiny fragile diamond chips from my great-grandmother's ring and a fake diamond from one of my nan’s rings. I wouldn’t have cared if every stone was nothing but glass - the fact those women from my ancestry wore them imbued them with a treasure status beyond any carat or cut.
But, of course, those stones captured only a small part of my origins. I owe my existence to many more people, some of whom I know a lot about, and others for whom there is next to no family knowledge. I designed a set of symbols to line the inside of the ring which represent 3 generations of my heritage; my parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. A pyramid for the great grandfather who served in Egypt during WW1. A ladle for the great grandmother who worked as a cook. Windmill sails for my Irish granda’ who died before I was born, and made model windmills from lollipop sticks. A hand for the grandma to whom I owe my creativity, practical skills and, indeed, the face I see when I look in the mirror which looks so like hers. There is also the string of black pearls, for the great grandmother I know very little about. She dressed in black for the rest of her life after her husband died, and wore a striking string of pearls in the photo I have of her.
But back to that visual reminder I needed. When I look at my palm, I see the underside of my ring inscribed with the Latin words “memento vivere” in the style of hand-engraved Victorian memento mori rings. The Victorians said ‘remember you will die’ but my ring is a treasure I wear daily which says ‘remember to live’."
- Pru Elliot
