Could you share the story behind the name “Monastery” and how it reflects the brand’s philosophy?

Monastery is named to reflect this pursuit of solitude and strength in the face of our fast- paced world. It also represents a kind of austerity and grace that I associate with my work. I like the idea of jewellery being hard, maybe even difficult to wear, that there is a certain discipline in wearing items that are heavy, strangely shaped or audible – there’s nothing more lovely than when one wears stacks of metal on their arms and they make music as they move! A lot of what I do intersects with my interest in ascetism as a phenomenon and a spiritual practice. My brand isn’t intended to be religious in anyway but I do like the idea of discipline and devotion, especially in a world that seems to shirk those kinds of endeavours. When I named my brand Monastery, I honestly hadn’t thought about it too hard but now it seems very apt when I think of the aesthetic I’m trying to convey.

Your passion in getting experimental with jewelry designing, interpreting them as wearable sculptures, makes them truly a work of art. Can you elaborate on how you balance the line between jewellery and art?

It’s impossible to define what ‘art’ is. I can only speak as a jeweller, as a collector of jewellery and as someone with a keen interest in the history of adornment. I don’t like jewellery that has no intention. I don’t see the point in designing a thin ring band that one barely notices. I think jewellery should challenge the wearer. I like the idea of the body displaying these ‘wearable sculptures.’ I’m fascinated by the anthropology of jewellery; how it came to be that we value these pieces of metal that we mould to our bodies and what putting on a piece of jewellery every day can mean. I love the idea of jewellery being a boundary between our flesh and the flesh of the world. The jewellery I make needs to convey this symbolic magnitude and so they come with a kind of sculptural appearance.