At first glance, Rachael Plassard’s jewellery is a celebration of ornament. Acanthus leaves unfurl across darkened silver, flashes of gold catch the light and elaborate forms seem almost alive with movement. But look more closely and something begins to happen. Leaves lift away, edges fracture, patterns fade and disappear. Beauty gives way to absence.
It is a visual language born from an intensely personal experience of memory and loss. Portsmouth-based Rachael spent more than a decade watching her father live with Alzheimer’s, witnessing the gradual erosion of the countless memories, experiences and connections that make up a self. While researching what would become the A Place to Remember Collection, she found herself returning again and again to the acanthus leaf. One of the most enduring ornamental motifs in Western art and architecture, and long associated with ideas of life and rebirth, it has become a recurring presence in her work. Rachael cut hundreds of the leaves from metal, using the repetitive process as a way of working through her grief. Now selected for Shine 2026 at the Goldsmiths’ Centre, Rachael’s work has also been recognised with a Goldsmiths’ Craft & Design Council Award.
That history remains close to the surface of collection, but it is not something Rachael always finds easy to share. Even now, the experiences behind the work are raw enough that she sometimes chooses to keep them for herself. Instead, they emerge quietly through the jewellery: in empty frames that speak of protection and absence, in leaves that appear to deteriorate before our eyes, and in precious surfaces that hold something beautiful even as parts of them fall away.
For Rachael, making has become a way of giving physical form to things that are almost impossible to hold onto – memory, grief, a person, a moment in time. The resulting pieces may be unapologetically maximalist, but beneath all that ornament lies something much more vulnerable: an attempt to create permanence from the impermanence of the human condition – of memory, identity and life itself.
An Uneven Path Into Jewellery Making
‘I would describe myself as a jewellery artist. I’m based in Portsmouth, and create really decorative work inspired by ornament, historical ornament and the decorative arts. Underneath that, I explore personal narratives and let those inform my decorative approach.
I had a slightly wiggly path into jewellery. I’m a third-generation jeweller, so I grew up around jewellery making, but initially I avoided being a jeweller and studied music. Quite quickly afterwards, I found myself really drawn back to making and wanted to take it more seriously.
I did short courses at West Dean, including a week-long course with my mum, who teaches there, and that week transformed my life. I then did courses at Morley College and more training with my mum before taking a job in Hatton Garden. I did an internship for a jeweller and then worked for bullion dealers for quite a long time, so I really got to know the industry. Eventually, I realised I wanted to find my visual identity and my voice. I wanted to make work that was meaningful and different, so I did a Master’s at UCA in Farnham and graduated in 2023. Since then, I’ve been developing my own practice.
My mum had a workshop at the back of our house, so I spent a lot of time watching her make. We did lots of crafts as kids and were always being creative. It was the same with my grandma. I used to go to her studio and she would give us a sorting tray and a big bag of mixed sequins to sort into different colours and shapes. I call myself a jewellery artist because my work has so much meaning behind it and is really concept-driven. I think there’s often this idea that jewellery is in one lane and art is in another. I view myself as both, or as merging the two together.’
‘All of my work is inspired by the decorative arts and the motifs you find within them. I’m particularly drawn to the acanthus as a motif and a shape, as well as the frame, which has lots of symbolism surrounding ideas like collection, protection and absence. There is all of this decorative research behind the work, but underneath that it is driven from a place of grief and loss, and particularly inspired by memory.
I lost my father who suffered for ten years with Alzheimer’s. A lot of my pieces, although on the surface they look very beautiful and decorative, have parts that start to lift away from the surface and look like they’re trying to escape or disappear. Parts deteriorate, fade and fracture.
The decoration is informed by my research into memory and my personal experiences with it: how it works, how it doesn’t work and how imperfect it can be. With the frame, there is also this idea of cherishing something we might take for granted. Until you are faced with someone losing their memory, you can take it for granted. There are so many interesting stories that go along with the acanthus leaf, including ideas around rebirth and life itself. But I also just think it’s a really beautiful shape.
My father passed away halfway through me doing this research. My instinct was to sit there and saw and cut out about a thousand acanthus shapes. It became so much more important because that was what I was making at the time he passed away. It was a process that got me through grief. When you lose someone, your house fills with flowers, and then they all die and the petals and leaves fall. It’s about life and loss, and that’s why a lot of my acanthus leaves start to fade away and deteriorate.
I don’t always mention the theme of Alzheimer’s. Sometimes I keep it for myself, and sometimes, when someone is really interested in the story, I let them in. It can be a really beautiful way of connecting because so many people are affected by Alzheimer’s. But I couldn’t talk about it all the time. I don’t think I’d get through the day every day.’
‘I’ve been in my studio in Portsmouth for a year, and it’s the first time I’ve ever had a studio myself. I’ve got my frames up because I collect frames, as well as my maquettes, trinket boxes and things I’ve collected over the years.
Being next to the sea is so calming, and Old Portsmouth is very rooted in history. I’m always capturing bits of inspiration: a decorative doorway, decoration on a railing, little acanthus leaves or different motifs that you find everywhere but which might otherwise go unnoticed. I photograph them, so I have a big bank of photographs that I can come back to, and then I’ll sketch. I have to force time for sketching because my life is pretty chaotic and busy, but it’s a big part of the process.
The standout piece from this collection is the necklace. It was the first big piece I made after university, so it felt very ‘me’. I love necklaces, especially collar-style necklaces. It pushed and challenged me, and it feels very intrinsically me. It also won a Goldsmiths’ Craft & Design Award, which felt huge. That had always been a bucket-list moment or career milestone for me.
Everything starts off flat. I make flat templates, cut them out, add the gold and roll them with sandpaper to create the texture. Then I form them and link them together. The necklace has little links hidden between the leaves, which makes it very movable and articulated.
I also have three brooches based around the idea of the frame, as well as earrings using the same kinds of techniques. I’m showing two pieces using a newer technique for me, where I carve the acanthus shapes out of the metal. I love repetitive processes. I love sawing because you can get into the zone and really invest yourself in the process. Carving is quite similar because you just keep going until it gets to where you want it to be.’
‘I really love layering techniques and decorative processes. With one of my brooches, for example, I etched the piece, added the gold, formed it and then saw-pierced it so the acanthus leaves break away from the surface. I remove the top surface and oxidise it, so you get that really nice contrast. Right at the end, I lift those pieces up, and you never really know what it’s going to look like until they’ve been lifted.
Maquette making is also a huge part of my process, mainly because I’m an incredibly impatient maker. I have to very quickly make the whole piece in brass first so I can realise it and know what it’s going to look like. Then I can slow down when I’m working in precious metals. Otherwise, I race through it and make mistakes.
One of my saw-pierced brooches in the Shine collection probably took me four hours just to saw out completely, but I made three of them in brass first. It’s hugely time-consuming, but I wanted to get it right. I love being able to make without the pressure of worrying if something goes wrong. It’s kind of like sketching in metal.’
‘I would describe my design style as very decorative and quite striking. I really like the combination of black and gold and the contrast between the two. A lot of people say, “I’d never go anywhere worthy of wearing something like this,” so I have to encourage people to go somewhere nice and wear the pieces!
My customer is usually someone who wants something that nobody else is going to have, something that’s going to be a conversation starter. It’s people who are interested in craftsmanship, something different and something well made. It’s also really beautiful when someone purchases a piece because they connect with the story. I like to think of them as little portable pieces of art that can remind you of a memory, a person, a thing or a time. Although the work stems from my own connection with memory, I like that different people can interpret it in different ways.’
‘Shine has been a huge milestone. When I was working at the bullion dealers in Hatton Garden, I remember serving some of the people who were doing Shine at the time and thinking, “This is so cool. I hope I can do it one day.” It really pushed me. I knew I needed to find my voice as a maker, and in a way it helped put me on the path to doing my Master’s. I used to come and see the show and remember looking at the sleek black showcases and hoping that one day I would be part of it. So it means a huge amount to me.
The experience has also helped give me confidence to talk about some of the more difficult parts of my story and my work. I do shy away from some of those underlying themes because, although they helped me find my voice as a maker, they’re still quite raw and emotional. Talking with Sean and Charlotte at the Goldsmiths’ Centre and learning how to balance that – to protect myself but also let people in – has been invaluable.
Looking ahead, Goldsmiths’ Fair is definitely a huge goal. At the end of my maternity leave in September, I’m looking forward to focusing on making new work. I want to make some solid gold pieces, and I’ve got a little stash of diamonds that I’m going to incorporate. I’m also hoping to revisit enamel, which was a huge part of my MA research but didn’t quite make it into the final work. It’s going to be a period of experimentation and making new pieces, with the idea of hopefully applying for Goldsmiths’ Fair at some point.’
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