Beyond Fabergé: Imperial Russian Jewelry

Thank you for joining us for this month's second Saturday lecture, Beyond Fabergé Imperial Russian Jewelry, presented by Marie Thedele. My name is Hannah Phillips, and I am the Public Engagement Coordinator at the Russian History Museum. We're going to get started with the lecture in just a few moments after some introductory remarks and a little bit of housekeeping. So we are pleased to welcome back those who have previously attended the lecture. I'm going through the attendee list, and my goodness, the amount of people joining is a little bit staggering and intimidating, but I recognize some of your names. So if you have attended a lecture before, thank you immensely and welcome back. I'm also seeing a few new names here to our list. So welcome to the lecture series for perhaps the first time. For those unfamiliar with the Russian History Museum, our mission is to promote the understanding and appreciation of the rich history and culture of Russia and the Russian diaspora. So this lecture series is one digital means of doing so. Before introducing Marie Thedele, I am going to mention that all of your cameras and mics have been disabled for the duration of the webinar. The chat box located at the bottom of your screen has been disabled during the lecture, but you will receive the occasional links sent from one of us into that little chat repository. We will also be using the Q&A section of your screen all the way at the bottom at the very end of the lecture, which I will denote for a Q&A component following Marie's presentation. And now I have news for you all, which is that there will be a quiz at the end of today's presentation. If you were here last month, Karen Kettering joked about a quiz, but Marie has actually given us a quiz. So I'll give you a little bit more information for that quiz following Marie's presentation and her lecture here today, but I figured it would be good to give you all just a little bit of a heads up to ensure that you are paying attention. So we are going to take a moment now to introduce Marie as our lecturer for today's second Saturday series. Born in Paris, Marie Thedele grew up in a world of Russian treasures, having spent her teenage years on the grounds of Hillwood Museum in Washington, D.C. as the director's daughter. Marie majored in art history at university and went on to earn a graduate gemologist diploma from the Gemological Institute in America. Her professional career began at Christie's Auction House in New York, where she worked as a gemologist and eventually rose to the head of the Russian department. After 10 years at Christie's, she launched her own business trading in antique jewels. Today, she is the leading authority of Imperial Russian decorative arts and jewelry and consults for auction houses, museums, and private collectors worldwide. So Marie, we are very pleased to have you join us today. I speak for myself and others when I note how very much we are looking forward to your dazzling presentation. So I will hand things over to Marie. Thank you again for all of the attendees joining us today. Thank you so much, Hannah, for that wonderful introduction. I'm really honored to be here. I saw this wonderful collection in Jordanville about 10 years ago when it was smaller, and I was delighted to learn that it has a fabulous new redesign as of 2014. It's a Russian history museum, and it's open to the public once more and has a fantastic new website. I feel like already I'm surrounded with Russian treasures, even though I'm in Canada. So I'm happy. I'm right in my element. It's a terrific collection. I'll be talking about a couple of the items in my talk. And to help you with that quiz, I'll take a slightly longer pause before saying something that's on it. So if I stop speaking, make sure you pay attention. Before I begin, I'd like to thank Nicholas Nicholson, Director of Development, for inviting me to speak, Michael Perekrestov, Executive Director of the Russian History Museum, and Hannah Phillips, Public Engagement Coordinator. I started writing Beyond Fabergé in my head many years ago because being in the field for a while, I knew deep down that there is so much more to Russian jewellery than Fabergé. I knew that along with Carl Fabergé, over 30 other goldsmiths in Russia held that coveted title of purveyor to the Russian court, and that was only in the late Imperial period. I also knew that the Imperial era marked the high point of the Russian jeweller's art, and that in some cases, the quality of St. Petersburg jewellery equaled, if not surpassed, the best that European capitals could offer. Then I wondered, well, who made these jewels? Why is nothing in English written about them? And why do we only hear about Fabergé? Because really, the firm's 30-year tenure as court purveyor only covered one-tenth of the span of the Romanov dynasty, one-tenth, and the Romanovs were known around the world for their lavish jewels and treasures. So that's when I started to investigate. So let's begin. My talk will be in three sections because I like things in threes. First will be the early history leading up to the Imperial era, about 10 minutes. Second part will be on the best 18th century Russian jeweller, in my opinion, and the third section will be on the best jeweller of the 19th century, along with a few of his compatriots. I will give you a few prices because, well, I'm a dealer after all, so I can't resist that. A bit about me, I have no Russian blood whatsoever, at least not that I know of. I was born in Paris, my mother was French and my father was English, and when I was 15 we moved to America from Europe and my father surprised us all upon retiring from the U.S. government after 30 years by becoming a museum director, Tillwood Museum. As the director's family, we were required to, required, in quotes, to live on the 25-acre estate. That was a real hardship. Just kidding. My mother was delighted. So as a teenager, I found myself surrounded by Russian treasures. Many of you are familiar with Hillwood Museum. This is a view of the Grand Staircase from the second floor. Those of you who are not familiar has a very large collection of Russian decorative arts before the Revolution. And in front of you, you see the Romanov rulers, Catherine the Great, of course, in the middle and below her, Empress Alexandra Fyodorovna, wearing a pearl tiara, which we'll see later. After graduating from university, I hightailed it up to New York and got a job at Christie's. I wanted the big city life. Early on, I was hired to catalog jewels for upcoming sales because they knew I was studying for my gemology diploma. And I remember the day after months of seeing the most fabulous gemstones, deflawless diamonds galore, hunched over my microscope. I remember the day when I saw a suite of jewels that stopped me dead in my tracks. They were Russian from St. Petersburg, mid-19th century, set with gorgeous rubies and sapphires. There was a patina of gold that I loved. And these were owned by Thomas Evans, who was dentist to the imperial family. These jewels just drew me in. I have a picture of these jewels in my book, and I call it, Gems that Changed My Life, because they did. That's where it all began. Well, enough about me. Turns out that the story of Russian jewels predates the Romanovs, not just by centuries, but by millennia, when Scythian nomadic tribes first roamed the steppes of southern Siberia from the Crimean coast parts of Ukraine and crafted jewels of pure gold. The comb on the left shows Greek influences, which were beginning to appear in jewels found in the burial mounds around 400 BC. It is in the gold treasure room in the Almitazh, which is a must-see if you haven't been there. Then came Grand Prince Vladimir of Kiev, seen on the right. It was in 986 that he decided to bring faith to his pagan subjects. As recounted in Russia's primary chronicles, he briefly considered Islam, but nixed it for its prohibition to alcohol. For other reasons, he ruled out Catholicism and Judaism. But when Orthodox clerics visited the court from Byzantium, he was intrigued. So he sent his envoys to explore Constantinople, and they returned, raptured by their visit. I hope you'll forgive me if you've heard this quote before, but I just love it. We knew not whether we were in heaven or on earth, they gushed, for on earth there is no such splendor or such beauty as we are at a loss how to describe it. We only know that God dwells there among men, and their service is fairer than the ceremonies of other nations. Within two years, Russia became Orthodox Christian. This turn to the East is what makes Russian jewelry and art so special. Yes, there's that European element that flourished in St. Petersburg, but there's also a taste for luxury, for pageantry, for grand displays of wealth and color that's evident not only in the colorful enamels, but as you'll see, in opulent jeweled treasures of the court. As early as the 16th century, rulers collected colored gemstones in Russia, and like the Europeans, medieval Russians believed in their healing powers. Here we have the ailing sovereign Ivan the Terrible, the Tsar of Russia, showing his treasury of gems, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, to a visiting ambassador, fond of describing their properties. Of a ruby, Ivan explained, quote, this is most comfortable to the heart, brain, vigor, and memory of man. Meanwhile, in Ukraine, the jewelry arts had already begun to flourish. On the top right are the earliest town marks that were used in stamping of precious metals to indicate origin. So each town had a different hallmark, a townmark. The first goldsmith's guild was established in Kiev in 1503. The Archangel Michael with a sword became the Kievan townmark, which you see on the left. To the right of that, already by the late 16th century, Lvov had 30 goldsmiths supplying their trade there, and hallmarking began in 1600. The Lvov townmark of a standing lion in a field was adopted in 1678. Back in Moscow, the Kremlin workshops were busy making the imperial regalia for the coronation of the first Romanov Tsar, Mikhail Fyodorovich, who ruled from 1613 to 1645, and you see that on the lower right of the regalia. As with much of Russian culture, jewelry began to be strongly influenced in Western styles and techniques during the reign of Peter the Great, founder of St. Petersburg. While Peter himself had simple tastes and preferred to sup from wooden bowls, he realized that extravagance was a spectacle that announced Russia's might to the world. He also knew that diamonds would play a major role in broadcasting that power. Peter established the Diamond Chamber in 1719, now known as the Diamond Fund in the Moscow Kremlin, to create ornate secular riches for the imperial family's new court. The crown jewels of Russia were the property of the treasury, to be passed down to each succeeding ruler. He also organized the jewelry trade by setting up guilds for foreign and Russian craftsmen based on the German model. Here we see a portrait medallion of Peter the Great that was sold at Sotheby's. Our last speaker, Karen Kettering, I hope you don't mind me saying this, Karen, but Karen managed the sale of that, and she gave a talk about selling this wonderful piece when she was at Sotheby's. Lucky you. And on the left is his wife Catherine in a portrait dated 1717. When Catherine became empress in 1725, her reign would mark the beginning of the glorious era of jewelry production in Russia. This was largely because from this time on until the death of Catherine II or the Great in 1796, so we're talking about 70 plus years, Russia would primarily be ruled by women. Five empresses in one century, and yes, you guessed it, all with a passion for gems and jewels. Imagine the demand that this must have created on the trade in the empire. So who created all these masterworks? Well, many came from Europe. There was a huge influx swept in from Sweden, Switzerland, Germany, France, and Finland. Some no older than 12 made the journey to tap into this lucrative market. Few would make that leap from poverty to power in the Winter Palace, but one did and rose to become Russia's finest 18th century jeweler. His name was Jeremie Pozier. Pozier was just 13 in 1729 when he set out on foot with his father, Etienne, from Switzerland to St. Petersburg, where Etienne's brother, Pierre, was surgeon to the imperial court. After seven grueling months of overland travel, the duo arrived in St. Petersburg only to learn that Pierre had relocated to Moscow, and then when they got to Moscow, that Pierre's house had burned to the ground in one of the many fires that razed the wooden city. Tragically too, Etienne died, unable to survive the hardships of his new homeland, leaving his grief-stricken son in a strange land. Luckily, though, his uncle Pierre had arranged for Jeremie an apprenticeship with a brilliant French court jeweler named Benoit Gravero. Famed for his superb gem-cutting skills, the Parisian lapidarist had settled in St. Petersburg 25 years earlier as jeweler to Peter the Great, so by now he had built up an impressive clientele. I thank Pozier from the bottom of my heart that he has left us his memoirs. They were translated in Russian years ago, but never in English, and we've translated them from the French and would love to publish them. Here is the proud jeweler on the right in a portrait in the Geneva Library, holding his signature jewel, a flower spray, in his right hand and a diamond ring in his left. On the left is one of his gorgeous gemstone creations at the Hermitage Diamond Treasury Room, another must-visit if you haven't been there. If you look at the top, there is a tulip-shaped amethyst, which would become a bit of a signature cut for Pozier, and we'll see that again in a box shortly. Pozier's master was a jealous and temperamental, but hugely talented. He had no rival in his field. So Pozier learned very early on how to polish, cut, and set stones, and how to value them. And at night, he started creating on his own. In addition, by delivering their precious boxes and jewels, Pozier met the highest echelon of St. Petersburg society, including the powerful Shuvalov family and Count Mikhail Vorontsov, who would later help Empress Elizabeth Petrovna overthrow Empress Anna Leopoldovna. It turns out that Pozier would witness not one, not just one, but five palace coups, including the most momentous one orchestrated by the future Catherine the Great. So the memoirs read like a cliffhanger. He was right there when it all happened. Yet with each successor, he managed to hold on to that position as court jeweler. Until her patronage came to a grinding halt, Gravero's best client was Empress Anna Yanovna, Peter the Great's niece, who you see on the right. Like all Romanov's arenas, she craved luxury. And more than anything else, though, she loved the allure of the East. Intrigued by exotic precious stones, including unpolished rubies from the Orient, she sent caravans along the Silk Road to India and China to fetch these in vast quantities. Then, impatient to have the sumptuous gems mounted as wearable jewelry, she actually ordered her jeweler, Gravero, to transfer his entire workshop into her palace. Probably the first and last time that ever happened. This allowed her to inspect the jeweler's progress several times a day, to the Parisian's annoyance. To appease her, Gravero often brought along his personable apprentice, Pozier. Good looking and charming, off hours, Gravero enjoyed drinking and carousing, which did not sit well with Anna. One day, when he failed to appear for her early morning meeting with the Empress, she banished him from the court forever, struck him off the register, and he lost all prospect of imperial patronage. This left young Pozier alone in the palace. Anna soon recognized his extraordinary talent. And although she would die a few weeks later, the connection had been made. Pozier opened his first workshop in 1740 in the ancient artillery district of St. Petersburg. He also made diamond set, gold presentation snuff boxes like this one in the Hermitage. Sometimes, instead of diamond decorations, a worthy recipient would receive a snuff box from the Empress with the monarch's initials. Unfortunately, he would learn that rich and powerful clients can be a problem. They don't always pay their bills or take ages to do so, which is surprising, would you say? As Pozier's business grew, so did his expertise and eye for beauty, knowing that, as Faberge would 145 years later, to please his imperial and aristocratic patrons was key. Some of them, especially Vorontsov, did pay their bills. So he set about creating sumptuous jewels that would dazzle these Russian empresses and grandees alike. He also pioneered new techniques of stone setting and combined both European and traditional Russian styles in lavish gem-encrusted masterpieces in the rococo style. In this other bouquet, you can see a butterfly formed of translucent sheets of banded agate. In the close-up on the left. These bouquets were worn in the hair or on the bodice, and some have small hooks on the back for this reason. Others were placed in vases like this, and they became very fashionable in the 18th century. And I'm sure that Faberge was inspired by these flowers when he started to make his own series later on, because he actually worked in the Almitages appraiser. These bouquets contain not just gems from the East, but native Russian stones as well. First discovered by Cossacks in the 1700s, the Ural Mountains yielded rich deposits of amethysts, topaz, jasper, aquamarine, and other stones. I'd love to know if anyone listening has ever seen these in person in the Diamond Treasury Room. I know a couple of you have, Jim and Gail, because I lead these small jewelry focus tours to St. Petersburg, and you were on my trip. And of course, I've stopped doing that now, but hope to resume after the pandemic. I mention this because I saw them again in 2014 after 20 years of not having seen them. And I just was, they took my breath away, because first of all, they're so large. They're about seven inches high, and so gorgeous and so exotic. To me, that's a quintessential Russian jewel. And it also shows that Poussier was a bit of a Renaissance man of the trade of jewelry, because unlike Fabergé, who had scores of workmasters, at this early stage when he made these bouquets, Poussier probably did everything on his own. He might have had two helpers, so he had to source the gems, design the jewels, make the gold mounts, cut the gemstones into their asymmetrical settings, and then sell them. In this case, Empress Elizabeth was a ready buyer. And there she is. By the mid-18th century, diamonds became the rage. Elizabeth would change gowns up to 10 times a day, and each new gown required a different set of jewels. So close was Poussier to the Empress Elizabeth that he became her confidante, delivering not only jewels, but important documents for her to sign to her chambers, when her court officials were too timid to do so. So he grew quite attached to her, but in a very platonic way. He was a very good Protestant. She returned the favor by granting the jeweler free access to the palace, which was an extraordinary court privilege, unheard of for any jeweler or artisan or anyone outside the court before or since. He sometimes felt frustrated, though. Elizabeth was fickle, plus she was an insomniac. In one case, a messenger wakes him up in the middle of the night. Elizabeth wanted to see his latest creations now. So he trudges along on his horse from Artillery Street to the palace, which is a good 20-minute walk. I know because I walked it myself. But during the day, our hotel happened to be on Artillery Street, which was where Poussier had his workshop. He went to the palace only to find her fast asleep when he arrived, so he had to go back to his home only to be summoned yet again to go back to the palace. He made imperial decorations like the one you see on the right, which is the Order of St. Andrew First Called. It's the highest order of chivalry in Russia, and it had been established by Peter the Great in 1698. Here's another one of his presentation boxes. Most of his works were diplomatic gifts, and here you see that characteristic tulip shape that you saw earlier in the bouquet, this one in a sapphire. It could be a pear shape as well. To me, it looks like a tulip. Poussier made at least two crowns. One is world famous, which you'll see in a moment. The other is less so. When Elizabeth died, her successor, Peter III, ordered Poussier to create a funerary crown to be placed on her head. According to orthodox custom, the deceased monarch would lay on her gold parade bed so that her former subjects could pay their last respects. Poussier described this wake in eerie detail. The new czar's consort, Catherine, soon to be Russia's ruler herself, was having difficulty placing the crown on Elizabeth's head. So she turned to Poussier for help. Court protocol dictated that up to six weeks after death, all must kiss the sovereign's hand. So he did so. Six weeks. Aware that after one's death, the head tends to swell, he had designed the crown to expand. Pincers in hand, he adjusted it by altering miniature screws along its circumference. Then, lit by 6,000 candles, surrounded by weeping ladies-in-waiting, maids of honor, the highest court officials, archbishops and priests, Poussier gingerly placed the enlarged crown on her head. It was all he could do not to break down. He also created this diamond mantle clasp. It's huge. Which was used to join the imperial mantle in front during all the coronations. This is in the diamond fund in Moscow, as is Poussier's most famous masterpiece, Catherine the Great's coronation crown. He and another court jeweler, George Eckhart, created this masterpiece for the new empress of all Russia's in 1762. After her reign, every Russian sovereign would wear this crown at his coronation, because they were all male, including the last czar, Nicholas II. I have very precise statistics on this. Are you ready? It's set with 4,936 diamonds, with a total weight of 2,858 carats, 75 natural pearls, and the spinel, which is the red stone on top, weighs 398.72 carats. It's the largest spinel ever reported, and it's from Badakhshan in today's Tajikistan. But be careful, if you google Catherine the Great's crown today, you'll most likely see the reproduction that was made in 2012, which is quite beautiful in its own way. It's set with even more diamonds, but the carat weight is less, and to me it's just, it doesn't have the same look at all. And the tourmaline's been replaced with a spinel. This is the real thing. But by 1764, only two years later, Poussier was mired in debt from his deadbeat aristocratic clients. Even Empress Catherine herself either ignored his pleas for payment or took far too long to do so. I think he was paid for the crown, but it was per other commissions. It was time to go back to Geneva. The richest court in Europe had defied the jeweler, and he was crushed. On his way back to Switzerland, he etched with a diamond on the windowpane of a roadside inn, after 30 years of tears, pain and work, I will seek a pleasure where I can rest. I will seek a place where I can rest. Pray to the supreme being to lessen my sorrows. The upside though, is now he had time to write his memoirs. By this time, the golden age of Russian jewelry was at its peak. Excuse me, the English clergyman, William Cox, who traveled to Russia in 1778, amid the several articles of sumptuousness, which distinguish the Russian nobility, there is none perhaps more calculated to strike a foreigner than the profusion of diamonds and other precious stones, which sparkle in every part of their dress. According to the late Dr. Marina Lopato, curator of the Hermitage, during those decades, late 18th to mid 19th century, the capital boasted a quote, glorious playad of master craftsmen. Over 300 jewelers plied their trades in St. Petersburg alone, many of them on this famous street, the Bolshaya Morskaya street, seen here in a late 19th century postcard. It was a hit parade of famous artisans. Here are just five brilliant masters on this street. So, let's take a walk. At number 16, Seftigin, a legendary Swiss court jeweler, already by 1859, a purveyor to the Tsar. Leopold Seftigin had made in 1855, the coronation crown of Maria Alexandrovna, consort of Emperor Alexander II, seen on the right. In the painting on the left the spotlight here is on Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna. It's not on the imperial couple, even though it was their coronation. Why is the spotlight on a Dowager Empress? Well, she was much loved by the Russian people, having converted from Lutheran to Russian Orthodox faith. Plus the artist was Danish himself. I think that had something to do with it. And so was the Dowager Empress. I show you this painting because she's wearing the same Seftigin crown, which she also donned on her coronation, her own coronation in 1883. Next door at number 14, the renowned court jewelers, Nichols and Plinky, applied their wares to the Russian aristocracy and was the foremost luxury store up until about 1870. So, for decades, they were very well known. Founded by two Englishmen, for example, all the silver wedding services for the children of Tsar Nicholas I, seen on the right. Samuel Arndt, a longtime workmaster of Nichols and Plinky, was Princess Dagmar's favorite jeweler. And he made the bracelet for her wedding to the future Alexander III, which is in the Danish Royal Collection on the left. Also by Nichols and Plinky, on view at the Russian History Museum, is on the left, part of the Russian Orthodox liturgical silver set, a patent and star, which were used for communion. This was made for the wedding in 1874 of Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna, daughter of Alexander II, which we see on the right, and Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, son of Queen Victoria. You can tell the high quality of the silver just in the image. It was designed in the Neo-Byzantine style by court architect David Grimm. And it came from the Grand Duchess's private chapel in Clarence House, British Royal Residence in London. This is on view in the museum. I invite you to have a look at Maria's necklace, which we will see very shortly in color. Back on the Bolshaya Morskaya, renowned silver firms, such as Ovchinnikov from Moscow, famous for its enamels and massive silver settings in the old Russian style, occupied number 35, while another Moscow supplier to the imperial court, the famous firm of Sazikov, occupied number 39. This, excuse me, I've never seen this piece, but I just love it. It's a monumental yacht racing trophy by Sazikov that was sold at Sotheby's in 1980. It was dated 1859, and it has not one, not two, but three imperial eagle heads facing east, west, north, and below a single Romanov crown. And this was to signify the Russian Empire's vast domain under Tsar Nicholas I, while the scrolls below are engraved with maps of Russia, America, and the South Pacific. I don't know why South Pacific is mentioned here. But it was a yacht competition. But in 1851, I know America, Russia still owned Alaska and wasn't part of America. Wouldn't this be nice on your mantelpiece? Even the last shop of the great Carl Fabergé, which would open in 1900 at number 24, had previously housed the workshop of Jean-Paul Ador in the 18th century, whose box you see here with a portrait of Grand Duke Paul when he was 20. I wish I could tell you about all the jewelers on this street, but they are in the book, and many of them have their own chapters. And for dealers and collectors out there, for every jeweler that we cover in a separate chapter, we also cover in the market chapter. So I will take the same jewelers and talk about, you know, values and auction records, what their creations have fetched on the market. And this is to give you an idea of value in case you come across pieces by these makers. The most prominent address on the street in the 19th century was number 10, appropriately, just steps from the Palace Square. This is Empress Alexandra at the opening of the Duma, or the Russian Parliament, in 1906. She's wearing a diadem by Boleyn, which we saw at the beginning in Hillwood in that portrait. In the Firstman catalogue, dated 1925, of the Russian crown jewels, which is, you know, the most complete inventory of the Russian crown jewels, this tiara was deemed the best of its kind of the entire lot by the expert Firstman. Until 1895, Boleyn's revenue was three times that of Faberge. So he was still the leading jeweler, mostly due to the much higher prices of his inventory. After that, of course, Faberge's star would skyrocket. And we do know by his own admission that Carl Faberge was less interested in gems than art and design. Compared to Faberge, though, who served only the last two tsars of Russia, the House of Boleyn would serve seven consecutive sovereigns, beginning with Catherine the Great. Seven. And unlike all the other Russian jewelers that closed down after the revolution, the firm is still active today in Stockholm as WA Boleyn, and it's still family owned. This is a very rare panegia in the Russian History Museum. Panegia means the all holy in Greek and is a medallion worn by bishops. It's like a pendant icon. This is by Jan and Boleyn, and it's extremely rare because very few items from this brief period surface when the firm was called Jan and Boleyn. We know it was made between the death of Andreas Rumpler, who was the founder of the firm, and the death of his senior partner, Jan, after which Jan's widow became partner. But the name changed from Jan and Boleyn to Boleyn and Jan. Confused, I know. So because of this, we can date this to precisely between 1834 and 1839. What a gem. You can see in the close up on the central stone is a carving of Our Lady of the Sign. It belonged to Bishop Feofan Gavrilov, who preserved the 13th century coarse root icon of the sign from destruction at the hands of the Bolsheviks and brought it with him into immigration. It has the original box, which is a treasure in itself, as we dealers know, and the Panagia is on display in the current exhibition. On the right is an emerald and diamond cross pendant, which is not by Boleyn, but it has a very special and tragic provenance. It's an amazing treasure at the Russian History Museum. This pendant is platinum, so we know that it's no earlier than 1900. In my opinion, the calibrated emeralds dates it closer to 1910, 1915, as that's when the innovative cut began, you know, calibrated cut stones. This pendant was found near the Four Brothers Mine in Yekaterinburg, where the Bolsheviks attempted to burn possessions of the last imperial family and their attendants after their murder in 1918. It was included in Nikolai Sokolov's evidence list as, quote, cross of high quality artistic craftsmanship. The platinum is tarnished in places and the last remaining seed pearl, which you can see on the lower left, has, is blackened. There would have been three other pearls, which are missing. It was possibly sewn into the clothing that was then burned. A single pearl earring, also in the museum, was found there as well. Two witnesses attested to the fact that the cross belonged to Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, a gift to her from Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna. It just gives you pause. Back to Boleyn. The great exhibition in London of 1851 catapulted the firm into world fame. In the beginning, St. Petersburg rivaled and surpassed. In the beginning, when I mentioned that some of the St. Petersburg jewelers rivaled and surpassed some of the best that Europe offers, this is what I mean when I say, when I said that. Boleyn displayed a diadem, which was unlike anything seen in Europe. Set with masses of diamonds of foliate design, it appeared light and feathery. The public marveled at the richness of its gems and the settings themselves. One reviewer considered the Russian jewels at this exhibition the best in the whole show. Another quote, another said, a quote, of greater interest that Boleyn's jewels, excuse me, were of greater interest than the Spanish queen's tiara by Lemonnier of Paris. Now the French and the British each sent about 60 of their finest jewelers and silversmiths, and Russia sent only two. And each one of them won the highest medal. Considered newcomers in the field of jewelry, the Russians were seen as innovative and masterful, a breath of fresh air, compared to the long-established French jewelers. The great exhibition secured Boleyn's reputation as one of the world's finest jewelers. Here's the wedding parure of diamonds and rubies that was made for Alexandra, Maria Alexandrovna's wedding, which you saw, you saw her portrait, I don't know if I pointed this out, but I should have said, please have a look at her necklace, because in her photograph, she was wearing this necklace. This was sold at Christie's in 1978, and the sale included a tiara, a necklace, three brooches, a bracelet, a pendant, and a pair of earrings and a ring, and it was just incredible that this parure was sold at auction, almost in its entirety. I think it's the first time that's ever happened. So brace yourself, I'm going to give you some prices. Keep in mind this is 1978. The necklace sold for $731,000, the tiara for $274,000, and the 9.19 carat cushion-shaped ruby fetched $286,000. I'm rounding them off. The necklace reappeared at auction, and perhaps the tiara as well, but their current whereabouts are unknown, if in fact they are still intact. The tiara was apparently disassembled. So you can see that even in 1978, people appreciated the quality of Russian gems for their amazing, well, for their amazing quality. The rubies here are Burmese at the finest quality. So can you imagine these untreated rubies coming up today in the auction world? What they would fetch when just a single stone, maybe three to four carats, can bring tens of thousands of dollars. Even more famous for her jewels is another Grand Duchess, Maria Pavlovna. There are countless images of this Grand Duchess protecting jewels from head to toe. She loved gems and jewels, and only the best would do. This diamond and pearl diadem was made by Bolin for her wedding to Grand Duke Vladimir Alexandrovich in 1874. Rumor has it that when she left the tiara at Cartier's for cleaning, the firm made three copies of it. I'd love to know if that's true, if there are any Cartier experts out there that can set the record straight. Please let me know. And here is the Grand Duchess, Maria Pavlovna on the left, wearing the tiara. And on the right, I'm sure you recognize Queen Elizabeth II of England wearing the same tiara, which she also appears with quite often with emerald drops. This forms part of the British Royal Jewels, and it's apparently one of the Queen's favorite. Like Fabergé, Bolin had workmasters, loyal, talented artisans who worked all their lives for the company. Some of the best were women, typically widows carrying on their husband's work, but establishing their own hallmark. This lovely star sapphire was made by Sophia Schwan in St. Petersburg between 1908 and 17. On the left is a shop in St. Petersburg, the Bolin Shop, as it appeared circa 1900. There's a doorman in the front and there's discrete lettering on the facade, which you can still see today if you walk down this street. The salon was located on the second floor. The Moscow branch opened in 1850s, excelled in the production of fine silver and women's accessories. The shop catered more to rich merchant classes in Moscow and produced items more in the old Russian style. Here's a scene from their workshop. And on the right, over on the far right, is Maria Lenke, who is another woman workmaster who made some wonderful enameled items. There are a lot of archival images in the book, and we have new information that are based on Russian archives, thanks to diligent work of Marie Stock and my husband, David, who is a Russian historian and who's the co-author. Glad I remember that. Bolin Shop becomes renowned for its distinctive Art Nouveau style, like this enamel picture frame, accented with half pearls on the right. I have yet to see anyone fake this kind of enamels. Now, you know, maybe some of you have seen this, but I haven't yet because it's so distinctive and I hope not to be proven wrong on this. So I traced the market price on this particular frame, for example. It first sold in 1983 for $4,620, then in 1992 for $6,082, then 20 years later, had a huge jump to $75,000. The large silver tankard on the left was made by Konstantin Linky and had a workmaster of Bolin in 1893, probably as a special order, as it depicts the horse tamers of St. Petersburg on Itskov Bridge. Linky was in charge of all silver production in Bolin's Moscow branch. This tankard sold for $18,000 in 2015, which is still reasonable compared to what one by Fabergé would bring. Many of the grand jewels by Bolin and other Russian jewelers have disappeared, been broken down, or sold off gemstone by gemstone after the revolution. This Bolin tiara still exists, if not in completely original form. It's a very typical Russian design, a diamond enamel kokoshnik that was commissioned by Grand Duchess Elizabeth Fedorovna, sister of the Empress, for the wedding of one of her nieces. It ended up at Van Cleef & Arpels in Paris in 1949. It's still in their private collection. I think it might be exhibited in Paris or might already be there in their exhibition. The emeralds were removed and sold and replaced by paste. So what you see here are green paste, not emeralds. I hope you've enjoyed this bird's eye view of Russian jewels and silver that lies beyond Fabergé. Over to you, Hannah. Thank you very much, Marie. An excellent presentation. I must admit I was dazzled and I'm not just saying that as someone who has worked closely with you up until today's fantastic lecture. Wonderful job. I'm going to hand things over to Nick Nicholson and I'll be back in just a moment for the Q&A component of today's lecture. Hi, everyone. My name is Nick Nicholson and I'm the Director of Development for the Russian History Museum. I want to thank Marie for her amazing lecture and thank all of you for coming. Programs like this one are very important to the museum, not just during the time of COVID-19, but beyond. And we promise that gathering to hear lectures and recent scholarship from some of the finest scholars and thinkers in the fields of Russian studies, Russian history, and Russian art will continue long after this pandemic is over. My colleague, Hannah, is going to place a link in the chat section right now, which will take you directly to the donation page of our website when you're ready. We'd be grateful for any support that you can give us, but we hope you will specifically consider a gift of $5 or $10 today to assist us in bringing you this unique programming in the future. Thank you so much. We'll see you at the second Saturday next month. And now back to Hannah. Thank you, Hannah. My name is Michael Perekrestov, Executive Director of the Russian History Museum. I'm thrilled that so many of you tuned in for today's fantastic lecture by Marie. We have a rapidly growing and truly international audience, and I'm so happy to welcome both those of you who have attended past second Saturday lectures, as well as new guests from across the world. And I'm excited about welcoming people from Poland, Thailand, France, South Africa, Italy, Portugal, Latvia, Israel, India, and that's not even the complete list. I invite all of you to visit our museum if you're ever in central New York. And in the meantime, I hope you'll continue to attend our virtual lectures presented by the very top specialists in Russian history, culture, and art. A huge thank you to Marie for her fascinating presentation, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing her book. You have an unfair advantage, attendees, because I can't be answering these questions right now as I'm giving these remarks. But for those of you who are not able to win the promised book, the signed book, Marie's book will be available on October 28th. You can order it on Amazon, and I also encourage you to visit Marie's website, mariebetley.com. Now, on October 10th, we will continue our second Saturday's lecture with a lecture by Wilfried Zeisler, who is the chief curator of Hillwood Museum in Washington, DC. The lecture is titled The Fate of the Collection of Princess Olga Paley and Grand Duke Paul of Russia. We'll be sending out registration information soon, and I hope you will join us for Wilfried Zeisler's presentation. So thank you very much for your interest, for your support, and I wish you a wonderful weekend.