Pendants are hot at Burning Man.
Preserving the legacy of artistic jewelry at Burning Man.
Seen through the lens of a tribal gathering, Burning Man’s seven-day desert festivities, which began Aug. 27, could be considered a modern-day potlatch, those celebrations where American Indians converged for a feast of ritualized gift giving.
Of the 10 principles that guide behavior at Burning Man, gifting is one of the most celebrated and practiced. Often, the gift, described as “freely given without expectation of return,” is an object made specifically for the purpose of sharing. Frequently, it comes in the form of a pendant strung on a cord or chain to be worn throughout the week and beyond. The giving and receiving of jewelry forms a meaningful playa bond, if only momentary, and is one of the most treasured of spontaneous rituals that happens throughout the week in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada.
By the end of the week, most Burners are wearing a few pendants adorned with the symbol of the Man, or the city plan, or the insignia of a theme camp or art project. Both men and women proudly sport a tangle of these talismans of metal, ceramic, acrylic, enamel, wood and found objects. The designs are not specified or required, but they often follow a theme to commemorate this particular year, and a particular cohort or shared endeavor of skydiving or temple building or hundreds of other affinities. Certain camps commission artists to make a new design every year while others modify their design to form a series.
Often they are made in a limited edition, particularly those that are handmade or cast in precious metal.
Christine Kristen, known as LadyBee, has spent three decades discovering, documenting and displaying Burning Man jewelry. From 1999 to 2008, she served as the Burning Man art curator, and in that role she often received pendants as gifts from artists or participants. She also has an archivist’s sensibility, and made a point of seeking out exceptional pieces to preserve, and encouraging those who fashioned them. “Back when the playa had a few thousand people, you could see a necklace, trace the piece back to the artist, and go find them at their camp. I felt I had a duty to keep a history of these treasures before they disappeared along with our ephemeral city,” she says.
Kristen, along with author Karen Christians and photographer George Post, contributed to and helped compile the book “Jewelry of Burning Man,” a compendium published in 2014. The book records playa jewelry by year and maker, and emphasizes the central role of gifting in Burner culture.
“The best part of working on the book was hearing the stories of why these artisans go to such lengths — both creative and financial — for the sheer purpose of giving them away,” she says. Kristen describes artist Donna Eck, who puts her necklaces into little pouches with cards that read “A gift from a playa fairy.” When Eck spies her chosen individual going into one of the hundreds of portable toilets, she will tie the pouch to the handle of their bicycle, and then observes the gleeful reaction to their discovery without ever identifying herself.
Seattle artists Hawk Anderson and Winter Herling make a limited number of intricately laser-cut steel medallions that they give to strangers as a way to disseminate Burning Man culture. Remarkably, even with 70,000 people sharing the city for a week, Kristen still sees many exquisite and original pieces.
“I know of a few high-end professional jewelers who make very costly work from precious metals and gems,” she says. “On the playa, by virtue of making work in cast bronze or pewter, they are free to give their jewelry away, which they tell me is extremely liberating.”
She cites Mill Valley sculptor Marco Cochrane, who gave 2-inch versions of his 80foot-tall “Bliss Dance” and “Truth Is Beauty” artworks to his volunteers and patrons as “a reminder of what we did together in years to come.” There is even a cohort of makers who are commissioned by camps or groups to produce pendants to gift away, a form of patronage from those who will freely bestow.
The prevalence of the Internet means pendants can also be designed and ordered online, and made in greater quantities. Kristen approves of the impulse to create these particular gifts. “Even though they may not be machine-turning the metal by hand, they are still practicing creativity and generosity.”
Among Kristen’s most iconic pieces is a breastplate in the shape of Black Rock City fashioned by Steve Curl from an aluminum hard drive disk. Curl hand-stamped, pierced, grommeted and sandblasted a detailed map of the 2005 city complete with street names, and that year’s art theme, Psyche, in the center. Says Kristen: “I had lost a small and beautiful pendant based on the Black Rock City map, and I asked the community, via our online bulletin board, the EPlaya, if anyone knew the maker. Steve Curl, a burner from Michigan, responded and said he’d send me one he had made, and this enormous one-of a-kind piece came, unsolicited, in an envelope to the Burning Man office. I shrieked — and every time people see me wearing it, they shriek, too.”
Since working on the jewelry book, LadyBee’s ardor for collecting and archiving has increased. She has curated a show of Burning Man jewelry at the Fuller Craft Museum near Boston; another show is on display at the Nevada Museum of Art through October. With more people becoming interested in Burning Man’s community-spirited ethos, she says, “Jewelry conveys our artistic, inclusive and generous culture in a way that is instantly recognizable.”
As she heads out to the playa again this year from her home in San Francisco, Kristen looks forward to discovering a new generation of jewelry. “Just when I think I’ve seen every possible version of the Man on a pendant, someone comes along and blows my mind with their original interpretation. Cross-cut wood, laser etching, wire wrapping — the impulse to create and share is stronger than ever at Burning Man. And I’m thrilled to be making sure we never lose sight of what that means. The result is truly precious.”
Jennifer Raiser is a San Francisco freelance writer. Email: style@sfchronicle.com. Style Files is an ongoing series that connects San Francisco’s fashion past to the present. See more photos and stories at www.sfchronicle.com/style-files.