CHAUMET
The French jeweller brings its history to life with an exhibition at Mitsubishi Ichigokan Museum in Tokyo. zaneta cheng takes the tour
Show Me Chaumet
IT’S A SAGA come to life, The Worlds of Chaumet exhibition – also known as Les Mondes de Chaumet – held at Tokyo’s Mitsubishi Ichigokan Museum. Tracing the maison’s 238-year history, the jeweller has managed to corral more than 300 gorgeous pieces comprising precious stones, objets d’art, paintings and drawings from private collectors, archives and museums into one space for public view.
Spread across eight rooms, the exhibition tracks the brand’s journey from purveyor of haute joaillerie to the court of France’s first emperor – and later to royalty in Japan and India, as well as to popes – to its modern status as one of the most storied of jewellery maisons.
It’s always been the case when it comes to jewels that those with stories behind them are the ones that stand the test of time. Before cut, colour, carat and clarity come into play, value lies in a jewel’s lore. Most of the jewels on display at the exhibition existed before the advent of modern classification systems and are no less stunning for it, cut to release their luminescence in candlelight before there was electricity.
Like Homer’s Odyssey, sagas are admittedly a little difficult to digest in one sitting, and those less well versed in the classics (so to speak) might find this one initially difficult to approach. In the same vein, different stories will catch the interest of different admirers.
My own journey through the history of Chaumet begins in the first room of the exhibition, which houses what’s probably the star of the show – the tiara given by Napoleon I to Pope Pius VII, as a token of thanks for the latter’s attendance at the newly minted emperor’s coronation.
Napoleon had asked Marie-Étienne Nitot, founder of Chaumet, to set his coronation regalia – robes, consul’s sword, crown of laurels, necklace of the Légion d’Honneur, globe, sceptre and hand of justice – with jewels and gems, all of which can be seen in a François Gérard painting in the same room.
The success of that first commission led Napoleon to ask Nitot & Fils (as the company was called until it changed its name to Chaumet in the 1880s) to design a diplomatic gift worthy of the Vatican sovereign. The result is the papal tiara on display today
– a creation that features 3,345 gemstones, 2,990 pearls and a 414-carat emerald.
This is the first time the tiara has been displayed outside of the Vatican since it was presented in 1804; prior to display, it was brought back to Chaumet for restoration. The original gemstones and pearls had disappeared over the years with only the unparalleled crowning emerald (known as “Jules II”) remaining from the original stones.
It was this headpiece that started it all as, upon seeing it, Napoleon’s wife Joséphine appointed Nitot as official court jeweller. The stones captivated the women at the helm of the French court – indeed, Joséphine was such a generous benefactor that Napoleon had to ban all jewellers other than Nitot from visiting her, out of fear for his finances. Empress Joséphine, her daughter Hortense and Napoleon’s second wife, Marie Louise, remain, to this day, Chaumet’s crowning muses.
Joséphine was known to wear jewellery representing sheaves of wheat – a traditional symbol of prosperity and fertility – and it’s the motif she chose for her tiara on her first appearance as empress of France in 1804. But love stories are rarely simple and despite Napoleon’s devotion to Joséphine, her inability to produce a male heir led him ultimately to divorce her in favour of Austrian aristocrat Marie Louise. Each, however, played an indelible part in the jeweller’s identity.
Joséphine’s daughter Hortense is associated with the hydrangea – hortensia in French – an association that inspired Chaumet’s Hortensia collection of stunning floral pieces.
One of the most outstanding parures is the daywear set of Marie Louise, who ultimately gave Napoleon a son. A present from Napoleon in 1810, the parure is decorated with micromosaics rendered in molten glass depicting ancient Roman monuments and ruins. The pieces are linked together with a chain of gold delicately chiselled into grape and vine-leaf motifs. This style was rare during the time of Napoleon I’s reign but became a cornerstone for romantic styles to come.
I enter another room and am struck by a wall of 200 maillechorts. The moulds are the final step before the tiara is realised with jewels, and even without the final finesse of precious metal and stone, the intricacy of each creation is a sight to behold. Since Joséphine popularised the tiara, Chaumet has created some 3,500 of the headpieces, all with different levels of ostentation.
The first that catches my eye is the amethyst tiara – the central amethyst is of such a rich purple hue it seems good enough to eat. There are many more tiaras, all made with differing techniques. The carnation tiara is so delicate that each diamond-encrusted platinum frond quivers with the movements of its wearer – as if the flowers are swaying in the breeze.
I also learn about the different antique cuts of diamonds. Before the stringent grading system we have today, cuts were less precise. Stones
STONES WERE CUT TO RADIATE IN PERFECT HARMONY WITH THE CANDLELIGHT
with slight flaws were cut to radiate in perfect harmony with the candlelight that illuminated them. Belle of the ball and mistress of the estate alike were thus reassured that they would shine all through the night.
Moving past the tiaras I arrive at exhibits that depict Chaumet’s first forays abroad. There’s the Hope Cup and the belt of Empress Marie Louise, which took its inspiration from Greek mythology. More impressive, however, is the Bayadere necklace, made in 1920 and a magnificent piece created in the image of the tasselled chains of Hindu dancers. Constructed from natural seed pearls, platinum, sapphire cabochon and rose-cut diamonds, this is a perfect example of the early artistic exchange that arose when French jewellers visited maharajas to peer into their vast collections of precious stones.
In the same room are Chinese-style pompoms, pendants and vanity cases. Joseph Chaumet interpreted the Chinese motifs using gold, platinum, diamonds and jade to fashion cigarette cases made of enamel for the fashionable set of the 1920s.
From there, the exhibition homes in on the house’s reverence for nature. There are beautifully rendered fruits, ears of wheat, hazelnuts and butterflies, but what’s most striking is how the maison has seen the potential of a stone and gently enhanced its beauty without forcing it to yield to a mould. The Rose brooch retains the natural quality of mother-of-pearl to fashion a delicate flower. Amid the strength of the Chimera brooch is a strange unicorn clip made of lapis lazuli, turquoise, diamonds and gold. The original piece of lapis lazuli holds its natural shape while a mane of gold, diamonds and turquoise is fashioned to sit on top of the unshaped piece of deep blue stone.
There’s a stomacher with a shell motif and the largest piece of aquamarine I’ve ever set eyes on – 332 carats in total and the colour the sea should always be. A symbol for a happy marriage, the piece was in fact a wedding gift and has remained in a private collection until now.
Finally, I reach the Japanese room, dedicated to the inspirations given to the brand by the exhibition’s host country. An Edo-period suzuribako writing case from Marie Antoinette’s collection is displayed with all the exemplary craftsmanship that’s associated with the Asian island nation. Alongside it are 22 Japaneseinspired designs ranging from handbag watches, vanity cases, powder compacts and cigarette cases to brooches and pins – most made by Chaumet in the 1920s as a response to Japonism, a fashion phenomenon that inspired French art at the time.
There’s a necklace featuring a stylised ginkgo leaf with diamonds delicately set around the stem, but
the crowning glory is the haute joaillerie interpretation of East and
West coming together – the Chant du Printemps, which combines geometric designs with sakura.
I’ve come to the end of the exhibition, with all of its histories and stories swirling around in my head. I’ve learnt that Tokyo hosts more Chaumet stores than any city outside of France – in fact, there’s a new Chaumet flagship in Ginza, to which I find myself irresistibly drawn.
As if the staff can read my mind, I’m led to a small alcove next to the stairs where a set of maillechorts sits. I begin trying on each one ...