The JARlings...

The master jeweler of out time, the man regarded by his peers as the Carl Peter Faberge of the modern era, is a difficult and mysteriously reclusive American named Joel Arthur Rosenthal who works in Paris under the name JAR Paris. He is the jeweler of choice to an elite coterie of the haute monde, the super-rich and the very famous, yet most people have never heard of him. That's hardly surprising since, unless your name is up in lights or attached to one of the world's great fortunes, Rosenthal has little interest in selling you a piece of his jewelry or allowing you an appointment to visit his by-appointment-only salon. About the only chance a mere mortal has to become a JARling (as the women who wear his jewels are dubbed) is to buy a piece at auction or from a gallery that bought a piece from a private client.

The person whose work has created all the excitement is described by those who have crossed his orbit as either an ornery, cantankerous, rude, snobbish and “incredibly sarcastic” monster or as a genius, the greatest living jeweler. More frequently, he’s called both at the same time. Certainly, his background, or at least what little is known of it, contains no clue to the origin of his staggering talent or his personal eccentricities. Rosenthal was born in 1943 in the Bronx, New York and went on to study philosophy and art history at Harvard University. After graduation, he worked for a time as a screenwriter for Hollywood and French film-makers and then moved to Paris where he joined forces with Pierre Jeannet, a Geneva- based Swiss psychiatrist in a business venture in which Rosenthal worked at designing tapestry-like needlepoint canvases. At one point, Rosenthal returned to New York to spend six months working with Bulgari and in 1977, Rosenthal and Jeannet opened JAR, their tiny two-room shop hidden away in a courtyard off the Place Vendome, with nei ther signs nor display windows but within spitting distance of the Ritz. Once they opened their doors they blew every other jeweler in Paris out of the water—none of them could compare to the jewels of JAR.

Rosenthal’s work is whimsical and extremely complex. His obsession is nature; life-size blossoms and butterflies rendered so perfectly as to appear real, were they not composed of a myriad of tiny brilliant stones in almost invisible settings. He pioneered the use of micro-pavé and perfected the technique of making a “thread” of tiny diamonds. He uses this thread to create meshes or galleries in which to set stones, for the most part eschewing traditional settings. The only metal of which he seems particularly fond is color-oxidized titanium, but he uses platinum and also mixes silver with gold of various shades. His approach to color is that of a watercolorist and he has no great interest in stones for the sake of carat size alone. Rather, he uses stones that entrance his artistic eye such as ancient pigeon-blood Indian rubies, Kashmiri sapphires, green garnets, Golconda pure water clear diamonds or rare gray-green pearls. So complicated are his designs that certain pieces contain as many as 10,000 stones. Naturally these pieces are made very, very slowly so only about seventy pieces per year are produced and the waiting list, that may require as long as a three year wait for a piece, just grows larger. Don’t think that Rosenthal makes each piece all by himself, he isn’t that skilled. He is essentially a designer, his extraordinary vision creates the idea but the work is performed by a few master craftsmen who are, in essence, his hands.

In 2002, this intensely private jeweler and his equally private clientele allowed 400 pieces of his work to be shown at Somerset House in London. “The Jewels of JAR, Paris” was held at the Gilbert Collection under the auspices of Lord Rothschild, who is rumored to be one of Rosenthal’s backers. That may well be true since there’s a huge gaggle of Rothschild’s who wear JAR. The deep Victorian gray and mauve mourning colors of his Paris shop were echoed in the Stygian darkness of the exhibition rooms. With little in the way of lighting, each visitor was given a flashlight with which to illuminate the jewels, the same obsessive procedure that Rosenthal insisted upon at the one-night show he permitted in New York City nineteen years earlier. So far, he hasn’t forbidden his clients to wear their jewels in daytime or electric light but that could become a future condition before being granted the privilege of buying a JAR piece.

No matter the lighting conditions, the exhibition was a pure celebration of genius. Each of the 400 pieces, though divided into themes, was a highly individual work of art. There were full-sized lilac branches in diamonds and violet sapphires, flocks of butterflies with jeweled wings, a diamond serpent necklace with amethyst spots and a zebra of black and white agate with a diamond bridle and feathered plumes to mention only a few of the wonders on display. Supposedly, there were people who returned time and again to marvel at the jewels and check to see if their flashlights had missed any pieces.

When I wrote that I was going to stick my neck out and make a prediction as to which jeweler of our time would withstand the vicissitudes of time, it really wasn't too much of a gamble.

The Future Legend?

After I received a couple of comments on my last post asking if there were any jewelers working today who had the chops of a Verdura, I did a quick mental review. There certainly are a goodly number of talented and creative jewelers who are currently much in demand but the real question is whose work is timeless enough to still be coveted fifty or more years in the future?

Verdura made it, as did Jean Schlumberger, whose magnificent jewelry is still carried by Tiffany. There are devoted fans of Seaman Schepps chunky, overscaled pieces and a growing band of devotees of David Webb. Webb was the favored darling of the 1960's ladies-who-lunched and his pieces bring hefty prices at auctions and galleries. But basically, there is no way to predict which of today's current crop will become a legend, since only time will tell.

That said, I'm going to stick my neck out and make at least one educated guess. If you are mega-rich and want to adorn yourself with jewels today while being assured that your great-granddaughter will admire your taste and thnk of you kindly, you might turn your attention to the jewels of Joel Arthur Rosenthal. His label is JAR Paris and although he is hardly a titled nobleman like Verdura, he sure acts like one. In fact, JAR is interesting enough to warrant a post of his own so I'm going to work on one. Just be patient!

Meanwhile, admire the luscious beauties shown above...those cuffs on the left are Seaman Schepps, the gold and enamel bangle is classic Schlumberger and comes in a wide range of jewel tones and the adorable zebra is pure David Webb.

The Jeweler Duke...

Verdura and his muse, Coco Chanel

Personally, I like my jewelry to have a sense of provenance and timeless design so I am, of course, a great fan of Verdura. Should you be unfamiliar with Verdura's legendary ouevre, check out the film "DeLovely" based on the upmarket lives of Linda and Cole Porter or simply pull up the website www.verdura.com and feast your eyes on the current catalog.

Fulco Santostefano della Cerda, Duke of Verdura, was the scion of an aristocratic Siciliam dynasty who spent his privileged childhood at his grandmother's elegant mansion, the Villa Nascemi in Palermo. Much to the shock of both his mother and himself, young Fulco was passed over in his grandmother's will (now that must have been a story worth knowing!) so even though he inherited his title at the age of 23, he was by his standards, left penniless. His lack of funds never seemed to affect his playboy lifestyle and in the 1920's he met Linda and Cole Porter, who were so taken with the artistically talented young bon vivant that they folded him into their famously elite and very moneyed circle. They remained life-long friends.

At one of their fabled parties in Venice, the Porters introduced the Duke to Coco Chanel who hired him as a textile designer. She soon recognized his passion and talent for jewelry design. When Chanel ended her scandalously torrid liaison with Grand Duke Dimitri, much of the remaining stock of Romanov jewels smuggled out of Russia remained in her possession and sensing that the Russian/Byzantine look could start a new trend, she assigned Verdura the task of re-inventing them. He modernized the heavy Russian style into a series of stone-studded brooches that combined precious and semi-precious gemstones (very daring at the time) set in asymmetrical patterns and different colors of gold. Chanel wore the originals and copied them as costume jewelry to sell in her boutiques. Verdura also set a multi-jeweled gold Maltese Cross into the center of a massive cuff bracelet which became Chanel's personal signature, always worn as a pair. They are iconic classics that to this day are identified with her name as well as his.

By the mid-thirties, with the rise of the Nazis, the cocktail and party crowd had largely deserted Europe for New York and in 1934 Verdura moved to America, finally settling in New York after touring around visiting friends in Hollywood and Palm Beach. He was taken up by Diana Vreeland, one of Chanel's best clients, who went on to become Vogue magazine's most legendary editor. His whimsical, nature-inspired jewels and the American penchant for European titles, no matter how impoverished, together made Verdura's fortune. His client list was a who's who of Hollywood's biggest stars...actresses like Garbo, Dietrich, Hepburn and Crawford along with society dames like the Duchess of Windsor, Doris Duke and the Cushman sisters, one of whom, Babe Paley, became his muse long after Chanel.

Verdura retired in 1973 and Ward Landrigan, the former head of Sotheby's USA jewelry division and a great admirer of Verdura ever since he'd first seen and appraised a tabletop full of his jewelry at the home of retired opera diva Lily Pons, tried to buy the company. He finally succeeded twelve years later and received, along with the firm, an archive of nearly 10,000 of Verdura's original sketches, most of them stored haphazardly in black plastic garbage bags. Verdura had been a very private resource with an A-list clientele and a distinct aversion to the new-money crowd, no less the public. When Landrigan took over, Verdura clients were still a roll call of assorted Mellons, Vanderbilts, Whitneys and Agnellis. Jewelry was sold by appointment only and the mega-rich dropped in and vacuumed up every jewel in sight but Landrigan's experience at Sotheby's had convinced him that a whole new generation of Verdura fans was out there. "Because Verdura's jewelry was so witty and wearable" says Landrigan, "it appealed to younger people. At estate sales, they'd sell off the big ballroom stuff and keep the Verdura for themselves. Greta Garbo wore her Verdura gold curb bracelet and watch bracelet every day and when her estate was auctioned off, those were the pieces that stayed in the family".

Many of Verdura's most iconic pieces have been carried forward in faithful reproduction. The jeweled Maltese Cross cuffs appear in limited edition variations, like the beauties shown here. His faceted or cabochon stones wrapped and bow-tied in diamond pave ribbons and Garbo's watch and bracelet are standards. I've been mooning over his caged ring, a domed gold wire cage filled with captive stones that tinkle as you move your hand. In fact, there isn't any piece in the collection I'd turn my nose up at. The appeal of Verdura's jewels is not simply style and elegance...it's the fact that a version of the very jewel you're wearing could have adorned a Hollywood legend or a Jazz Age Bright Young Thing dancing the Charleston in 1920's Paris. I find that very appealing.