Last week I visited the Brooklyn Museum's Solid Gold exhibition, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. If you’ve ever wanted to walk through five thousand years of golden obsession, from ancient Egyptian tombs to runway couture and hip-hop chains, this is the place. It’s the museum’s 200th anniversary, and they’ve pulled out all the stops, over 500 objects of gold in every imaginable form. Jewelry, fashion, sculpture, even a baby grand piano covered in gold leaf.
Naturally, I made a beeline for the jewelry cases. I’m always drawn to exhibitions like this, but this one felt particularly aligned with what I do. Seeing the evolution of gold adornment from early chainmail to modern grillz was fascinating.
But what really got me was the Calder case. I’ve admired Alexander Calder's sculptures for years (and was actually toying with the idea of creating a collection inspired by his forms before discovering he had made jewelry himself!). His pieces were bold, freeform, unapologetically handmade. There was a freedom in them I don’t often allow myself.
And then there was the fashion. You know how much I love a sculptural garment, and there were some stunners here, gowns by Dior, Tina Turner’s chain mail Alaïa dress, and a fly necklace made for Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra.
The way gold moves when it's draped or hammered or woven into fabric reminded me of my own Draped Ring, which, funny enough, wasn’t made with gold, but shares that same spirit of weight and flow.
I also got to see a 14th-century stone mold from Thailand, used in the lost wax casting process. It could cast multiple rings, earrings, and ornaments in one go, with molten metal poured into carefully carved channels. It’s the same basic process I use today, and seeing such an early version of that tool felt oddly grounding. A little reminder that jewelry-making, for all its evolution, still uses the same techniques from the 1300s.
One piece that left me stopped me in my tracks - because it was quite literally a wall - was Zadik Zadikian's Path to Nine. From a distance, it looked like a literal wall of solid gold bullion, turns out, it was plaster and burlap covered in 24k leaf. Over a thousand bars arranged to form a path you had to walk around, it was both monumental and meditative. It made me think about how we assign value to materials. What makes something "real" gold, and what makes it valuable?
Of course, the exhibition also addressed the darker side of gold’s story, mining. The environmental damage, the human cost, the ancient and ongoing exploitation, none of it was glossed over. I appreciated that. As someone who works in precious metals, it's easy to get caught up in the beauty without always reflecting on its origins. It was a sobering but necessary part of the experience, and it reminded me why I prioritize ethical sourcing and transparency in my own work.
I left feeling both humbled and inspired, by the craftsmanship, by the contradictions, by the sheer audacity of what humans have done in the name of gold. Here are some other notable things I photographed while I was there.
Have you seen the show yet? If you’re in New York before July 2025, I highly recommend it. Bring a sketchbook. And maybe a snack, it’s a long, golden wander.