Katherine Natalia Wadsworth
Many people are, basically, boring—on the outside, I mean. Well, you know: brain case, trunk, four limbs, just like 99% of the rest of all mammals, so what’s to stand out? We were a pretty dull lot until the Bronze Age, when some bright soul said “Gee, this thing looks pretty. I wonder if I could hang it round my neck?” Ensuing neck problems notwithstanding, it was a pretty cool enhancement to our otherwise bland bipedal form. Then, when the Silver Age hit and people started finding amethysts and carbuncles and diamonds and stuff, things really took off!
So nowadays there is no limit to the variety of design dementia available to heap on the altar of our vanity. The main trouble now is quality. Oh, and veracity. These days we have nifty chemicals and ultra powerful compressors and irradiation that let us make cement look like lapis and make granite have delusions of ruby-ness, and we have only some gemologist’s word and micro-laser-inscribed serial number to assure us it’s not a cubic zirconium! Honestly, what’s left?
Back to basics, that’s what! If you want quality in the land of mass-production, then you have to go back to the sweat of individual brows and the hand-crafted products they sweat over! Back to the Bronze Age, when a craftsman was a wizard known by name (not by company!).
Art glass, lost-wax metal casting, intricate beadwork—these are the things that are done by hand on a scale small enough that its uniqueness is assured! The product is valuable because it’s freaky hard to make (that sweat o’ the brow thing)!
Katherine Natalia Wadsworth first began to sweat—uh, craft, when she was quite small. She had an early fascination with natural history. Back then they just called it “playing with animals,” but now we know it for a much higher calling. She played with horses and rabbits and lizards and snakes, and a menagerie of others. She liked glass figurines of these animals, too (can't you just taste the foreshadowing?)
So now Katherine has returned to that vast natural library of form for a vocabulary that includes herons, frogs, geckos, dragons (OK, that one’s not actually from natural history), as well as many abstract shapes and pure flights of fancy. Hers is the kind of work that catches the eye, that causes one to say of the wearer “There goes a mammal of distinction!” or, alternatively, “Excuse me, Miss, but there seems to be a frog on your… Oh, gosh! It’s made of silver!” Cast of metal, etched in glass, or fashioned of several challenges at once, Katherine’s ideas take solid form of a sort to delight the imagination.
Oscar once said “One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art.” He was a Wilde one. So is Katherine. She is it so that we can wear it.
P.S. I cannot claim to be entirely impartial. I'm her big brother.