About Marianne
As far back as I can remember I always knew I was a designer-maker at heart with a very strong desire to share what I had created. Even aged six, I could be spotted on the side of the road attempting to sell my little handmade sun-dried mud sculptures to strangers passing by! Despite this heartfelt craving to create and make and sell, such opportunities were not truly available until later in my working life.
My first role after leaving school was managing the silver, and then gold, departments at a high street jewellers. Whilst I was attracted to the jewellery, I couldn’t work out quite why I was simultaneously so disappointed by it.
I tried working at an antique jewellery shop for a time, but was uninspired for the second time and soon drifted away into health food shop management, and then into video and TV production. Despite repeatedly reinventing myself, none of these roles truly inspired me, and the six year old me sat listlessly staring in space.
In time, I began visiting some excellent craft fairs in London, and it was here that my otherwise dormant designer-maker began to stir deep inside… Looking through the available courses, I chose an evening class in the ancient craft of bookbinding to satisfy my love of paper and books.
This night class took on it’s own momentum, and five years later, I graduated with a BA Hons in Bookbinding, and 2 years later won my first bookbinding prize in a national competition. There then followed a series of prizes in national and international competitions, as well as gaining a number of private bookbinding commissions.
What I loved the most about the craft though, was the gold tooling on the binding itself. Each gold leaf impression you see below was the result of three or four physical impressions made with a heated brass tool of the same shape (mostly spheres as you see) pressed into the leather, and each of the three impressions utilised three layers of fine gold leaf to produce the final vibrant, shimmering image. It took forever to produce, but the joy I experienced whilst making, was unparalleled.
Photo: John Donne’s, Upon Emergent Occasions, winning the Judges Award at the Designer Bookbinders Annual Competition in 2011.
Whilst honing my bookbinding skills in my studio at home, I was also working full-time in Events, managing multi-day international rare book fairs in Chelsea, and at London Olympia every year. I knew it would never really be possible to make an independent living from bookbinding, so I wasn’t able to fully commit my life to the craft, and increasingly, my day job demanded more and more of me over time, until I ended up devoting all my energies to managing these events.
Finally, however, with sufficient savings built up to sustain me, I was able to leave full-time work at last. I set up a small local business to do part-time work while I tried to find my way back to craft. Picking up on my love of gold foil and using tools again, I took a jewellery-making course at City Lit in London, just for fun. By the end of the first week, I was truly shocked. I realised that I had now found my deepest passion: the alchemy of metalwork, the exquisite diversity of the tools, the array of methods for making beautiful and intriguing items of jewellery from sheet, wire and wax (even gold foil!), finally lit up my dormant creative imagination. At last, I felt a whole new and invigorating sense of being 100% present in my own life again! I could at last see the little six-year-old me doing a happy dance!
Lockdown in 2020 forced the temporary closure of my small business but gave me the breathing space I truly needed to pursue this new passion. For a time, I had been nursing an idea for a ring inspired by the remains of the Cholla Cactus, and I began experimenting with sheet copper. Having already secured a degree in a different craft (bookbinding), I knew the craft standards I was determined to achieve, so research and experimentation were key. Accordingly, I plunged into months of self-directed learning: reading books on jewellery making, and taking a series of short courses. Sourcing resources online, I spent a considerable amount of time experimenting at home in my studio, and at last my cholla collection began to take shape, with the squares collection following swiftly on its heels.
It was here that it finally dawned on me why I wasn’t attracted to high-street jewellery of my earliest working life - the pieces lacked heart. Who was the designer? What processes did they go through? Where was the meaning in the piece? Where was the soul?... For me, handmade is everything; even if the piece requires modern techniques to realise its full potential, it's all about the process and ultimately, the degree of soul each piece contains. Each piece I produce represents a tangible part of my soul, and goes out to live it's own life elsewhere in the world.
In early 2025, I sold my established London business to an existing client and moved to the South Coast to concentrate solely on jewellery. The last few years, culminating in these small collections on this website, have been a challenging labour of love, but one that was worth fighting for. And most importantly, the little six-year-old me is now, finally and officially, very happy indeed! I can see her nodding sagely, and she can’t wait to see what comes next!