“Precise and artistic cutting: today and tomorrow”

I. Precision cut (20-25min) min)

I once heard the opinion that the quality of a cut is primarily determined by the quality of the polish. I can't help but agree with this statement, but I'd like to elaborate a bit.

The phrase "precision cut" has become fashionable in the market recently. Let's try to understand what this means in the mouths of different market participants and how much more precise one cut is than another. I've heard a variety of opinions. Some use this term to describe cuts made by automated machines—to a single design, a single size, and with identical errors. Others use the term to describe more or less perfectly cut stones, with a small window (with a window!) and mediocre polish, but rare and particularly valuable. Still others say a precision cut must be innovative—incorporating curved facets and even carving elements, and the more complex the design, the more "precise" the cut. Finally, others believe that a precision cut is anything that deviates from standard shapes. How can all these opinions be reconciled?

Let's start with the concept. According to the meaning of the word, precision cutting should primarily be accurate. And only accurate. Not innovative, not artistic, not expensive – simply accurate. This means that the stone should not have cutting defects – meaning noticeable defects. This raises two questions: what are cutting defects and how noticeable can they be?

To answer the first question, let's imagine that the stone we have chosen is perfectly cut, without the slightest deviations, and let's consider it not only as a single whole, but as a collection of individual design elements. Such elements include facets, edges, vertices (points where four or more facets meet), and pairs of symmetrical facets (according to the given cut design). Each design element of a real stone may differ from the ideal model. For example, the surface of a facet may have scratches, irregularities, pits, cracks, and so on. The edges may be uneven, chipped, rounded – that is, not sharp enough to reflect light. The vertices may not be points, but line segments. Finally, facets that, according to the design, should be identical – for example, the main facets of a standard brilliant cut – may differ in both shape and size. Separately, we can highlight undesirable optical effects – such as a window or light leakage.

Regarding their degree of visibility, it would be appropriate to divide the aforementioned defects or deviations from the ideal model into three categories. Indeed, a very fine scratch on the facet, barely visible even with a 10x loupe, should have less of an impact on the accuracy assessment than a scratch clearly visible under a loupe, and even more so if the scratch is so deep that it is clearly visible to the naked eye. A tiny, barely noticeable chip on the girdle is also not as significant as a chipped piece half a millimeter in size. Therefore, the primary tool for detecting and classifying such defects should be a 10x loupe—the traditional tool of gemologists, appraisers, dealers, and jewelers.

Another important point. The visibility of cut defects (especially facets and meeting points) depends significantly on lighting conditions. For example, fine polishing scratches (so-called "cat hairs") are quite visible under a point light source—an LED or incandescent lamp—but are invisible under the diffused light of a mercury-vapor gemological lamp. To assess the precision of a cut, it is necessary to use lighting conditions that make the defects most visible—naturally, this also presupposes a certain amount of experience on the part of the expert, as well as knowledge of how to observe and direct the light.

The experience of assessing cut precision has already been used in technical cutting competitions held by various Cutters' Guilds—for example, in America, England, Australia, and Thailand. While the judging rules and evaluation criteria vary in detail across countries, there are no fundamental differences: the precision of a stone's cut is assessed on a 100-point scale; facets, edges, meeting points, and symmetry are assessed similarly. However, to be used in assessing cut quality, these rules and criteria must be adapted to market conditions.

At one time, the author, in collaboration with GIT and AIGS, proposed a method for evaluating the accuracy of gemstone cutting. The principle of the study is simple – the stone is considered as a collection of so-called design elements (pattern points), which include the aforementioned facets, edges, meeting points, and pairs of facets that should have the same shape and size in accordance with the symmetry of the cut design. If a design element has a defect (a chip on an edge, a scratch on a facet, etc.), penalty points (error points) are entered into a special table according to the size of the defect. Defects are divided into three categories according to their size (degree of visibility):

A) difficult to discern under a 10x magnifying glass;

B) clearly visible with a magnifying glass, but difficult to discern with the naked eye;

C) clearly visible to the naked eye.

Each category has its own weight in the calculation of the overall score – 25%, 50%, and 100% respectively. It should be clarified, however, that it is not the defects themselves that are counted, but rather the design elements that have inaccuracies. For example, if there are two or more scratches on one facet, as well as other defects, then only one penalty point is recorded for that facet – based on the most significant defect. Once all the design elements of the stone with defects have been analyzed and accounted for, a spreadsheet uses special formulas to calculate the final evaluation result – on a 100-point scale with accuracy to four decimal places.

It should be noted that the final result itself will mean little to the layperson. For convenience, all stones have been classified and divided into three grades, each of which, in turn, has three subclasses. While the first two grades (Commercial and Quality) are designated by numbers, each subclass of the third grade (Elite) has its own name: Elite Premium, Elite Extra, and Elite Ideal. For a stone to be classified as Elite based on cut quality, it must not only score at least 95 points on a 100-point scale but also be free of noticeable defects (category C). Only stones that score at least 99 points and have no defects of categories B or C will be classified as Elite Ideal. A "window" is also unacceptable for Elite stones.

So what does such a rigorous and highly accurate assessment give us? Why not adopt the good old GIA grading system (symmetry/proportion/finish)? Skeptics will say, "The eye can't spot cut flaws anyway; they're only visible with a magnifying glass, and even then, with difficulty—why bother taking them into account?" I'll start with the last question.

Once (11 years ago, to be exact), I had the opportunity to cut a stone for a USFG cutting competition. I showed the stone to a friend, and he asked me to make one for him. No sooner said than done. But since this stone was already the second one, it turned out slightly more precise – in some places the facet was better polished, in others the meeting point was more perfect. If I were to grade these stones today using the aforementioned system, I think they would receive scores of approximately 98 and 99, respectively. The difference is negligible, considering the vast ocean of commercial cuts that don't even reach 70. But... I deliberately showed both stones to many spectators – mostly non-professionals and, of course, without a magnifying glass. Almost everyone – almost everyone! – admitted that they liked the second stone more, even though they were exact copies of each other with minor differences in cut precision – no more than 1.5 points on a 100-point scale! No one could explain the reason, they simply said that they liked the second stone better – on a sensory level.

This led to a striking discovery. Our eyes are perfect optical instruments, capable of perceiving the smallest details. However, to avoid being overwhelmed by "excessive" information, our brain sets a certain threshold of sensitivity, above which these details are not perceived by the brain—at the conscious level. But they pass to the subconscious and create that very sensation. The fewer inaccuracies and imperfections, the more harmonious the stone appears, as a sense of harmony and the pursuit of perfection are inherent in each of us.

There are many true connoisseurs of beauty and perfection in the world. People pay enormous sums for works of art that convey with exquisite precision the harmony and perfection of nature or the human body. Such connoisseurs also exist among lovers of cut stones, although many of them are still unaware of just how perfect they can be. Our task—gemologists, appraisers, dealers, and cutters—is to quantify this perfection.

What do we see in the market today? It is declared that the value of a stone is determined by the four "C's" – color, clarity, carat weight, and cut. In reality, however, the fourth "C" is currently not working. Nobody (perhaps except for IGE) includes data on the quality of the stone's cut in the certificate, only sometimes limiting themselves to its shape – round, oval, cushion, etc. But the shape of a colored stone is not a price-determining factor – firstly. And secondly, the systems for evaluating the cut that have existed until now gave a very, very conditional idea of ​​its quality. Indeed, what are five gradations – from "poor" to "excellent"? Each gradation is not a point, but an interval, and a huge interval, given the enormous variety of cuts. And the concept of "proportions" is generally difficult to apply to colored stones, since the optimal shape is usually determined by the design of the piece of jewelry.

But with the advancement of cutting technology, increasingly precise cuts are appearing on the market. The gap is narrowing between the quality of jewelry, which is already being made using a microscope, and the quality of stones, which are still cut using, at best, a 3-5x loupe, and even then, not always. Craftsmen are emerging who have trained in technical competitions and know how precise a cut can truly be. And most importantly, buyers are beginning to ask "uncomfortable" questions about precision cutting. These first harbingers of change do not yet signify a fait accompli, just as the first drops do not yet mark a storm, but they do foretell one. And to be prepared to answer these questions tomorrow—intelligently and reasonably—we need a simple, reliable, and highly accurate tool today to confirm the fourth "C"—cut quality. What seems exotic and eccentric today will become possible tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, commonplace. This is how evolution proceeds. This is how history is made.

II. Искусство огранки (35-40 min)

1. I'll begin the second part of my presentation with the same question as the first: what is art in general, and the art of cutting in particular? I don't claim that my words will be accepted as absolute truth—I'm not an art historian, just a cutter. I'll simply try to give you my perspective on this matter, and whether you agree or disagree is entirely up to you.

2. I believe art should convey a message. This could be a thought, an idea, expressed in the work's plot and composition; it could be an association that evokes a creative resonance in the viewer or listener. This is the fundamental difference from craftsmanship, where the artist's goal is simply to convey an image—concrete or abstract—even with the highest quality of execution.

I don't mean to say that craft is inferior to art, any more than you can say that cognac is inferior to a cigar. They're simply different things—with different purposes, different spiritual and emotional content, but perhaps the same means of expression. Moreover, sometimes the work of artisans is of the highest level of execution, far superior to art objects. But... I once said, in response to a question about how one can distinguish the work of a master artisan from that of an artist: "If you see a piece and want to buy it, that's craft. But if you see it and want to make something of your own, or even just transform yourself, that's art."

3. True art doesn't necessarily have to be complex and wordy. Let me remind you of the shortest story by the great Hemingway: "For Sale: Baby Shoes... Never Worn." And so we are confronted with the grief of a family who has experienced a terrible tragedy—the loss of a small child. And a wave of compassion, a desire to help and support rises in response. This brilliant writer makes us experience powerful emotions—in just six words.

Here's another example. It depicts an installation featuring a pile of trash. Nothing out of the ordinary, it would seem. But with just the right lighting, the shadow cast by the shapeless pile forms a precise, detailed image of two young people. They sit in a relaxed pose, leaning back against each other. He holds a half-smoked cigarette, she a glass of wine. The shadows even reveal the details of their hairstyles. This isn't just a photograph or a painting. In this composition (light source – pile of trash – shadow on the wall), an open mind can discern the essence of the creative process. After all, in order for a work of art (a shadow on the wall) to be revealed to the public, the artist must take a certain set of "building materials" (be it paint and canvas, pen and paper, guitar and microphone, stone and grinding wheel, or simply trash), arrange them in a specific order, and illuminate them with a powerful beam of inspiration. And then, on the “canvas” of our three-dimensional world, images appear – projections of higher dimensions…

Another important point. Art doesn't always follow conventional paths. I once read that at one time—at the beginning of the 20th century—the "Donkey's Tail" painting society was founded. A brush was tied to a donkey's tail, and paints and a canvas were presented. It waved its tail, first across the palette, then across the canvas. The result was a meaningless daub. … The painting was called "And the Sun Set Over the Adriatic Sea." It was exhibited and was a resounding success. Later, the matter was sorted out, and the whole thing ended in scandal, but—success it was! Of course, a donkey isn't an artist. The artist was the one who came up with the title, grasping the associative connection between the strokes and spots on the canvas and a perfectly understandable subject matter, one that evokes memories and associations, and therefore emotions, for many who have visited the area. Thus, something meaningless not only acquired meaning, but was transformed into a work of art.

I wouldn't hesitate to suggest that for a true artist, the instrument isn't so important as the means to convey what's entrusted to them. Today, works of art primarily utilize two of our senses, acting through sight and hearing. But why not utilize others as well? For example, today's perfumers create fragrances with awkward names like "Chanel No. 5" or, at best, "Avignon Rose." Yet these fragrances evoke no associations with roses, let alone Miss Chanel. But why not create a composition of scents, say, "The Battle of Waterloo"—one that leaves no doubt in the mind of the sniffer: this is truly the scent of battle! So that they detect ever new nuances of scent, and a picture of a real battle unfolds in their imagination?

4. But let's get a little closer to gemology. In life, we are surrounded by the works of wonderful artists. In stores, museums, and exhibitions, we are amazed by the perfection of their execution of magnificent figurines of animals, birds, flowers, and berries—indistinguishable from the real thing. They don't even need names: it's clear that a mouse is a mouse, a monkey is a monkey, and a cornflower is a cornflower. We admire the carver's skill and move on. If we remember anything again, it's only the perfection of their execution, less often the beauty of the composition.

But then we see a solitary piece of dark agate with red streaks in a display case, bearing the title: "The Last Glance." Many of us will pass by, merely glancing at the inconspicuous stone. But someone—one of those who has seen it before—will stop upon reading the title. The former bullfighter, standing over the fallen bull, will stop and recognize that rage, dissolving in the darkness of powerlessness and despair; the hunter, who once looked into the eyes of a dying deer, will stop and recognize that spark of hope, fading in the darkness of despair and helplessness. And a man will be horrified, realizing and ashamed of the irreversibility of his actions. And he will want to share his discoveries, and he will begin to create, using the tools available to him. And this will be art.

Now that we understand what art is in general, we can get even closer to faceted stones and identify what definitely is not art, although it is often called by that word. For example, the art of faceting (mainly typical for colored diamonds) is often understood as the master's ability to facet a stone in such a way as to create the illusion of a more intense color through multiple internal reflections. Ladies and gentlemen, have you noticed – "to create an illusion"? Indeed, the stone's own color has not changed. The stone simply appears to be of a more intense color, and only when viewed through the table facet. What is this – the art of illusion? The art of deception? And yet, you probably know better than I do that it is precisely this color – visible through the table facet – that is indicated in certificates for colored diamonds. This, of course, is impossible for other stones.

Last year, I was fortunate to cut an unusual topaz—an untreated, natural blue. The cut was chosen based on the rough's shape and color zoning, aiming to direct as many rays of light as possible along the crystal's most intense color directions. I can show you in photographs what the finished stone looked like from the side and from above. You can see that when viewed through the crown, the stone appears a rich blue, while when viewed from the side or through the pavilion, it appears light blue. When the client saw the stone, he was delighted, as such an intense color is extremely rare—if even known—for untreated topaz. But… Time flies, and the stone still hasn't sold, despite having a certificate from a renowned gemological laboratory certifying the naturalness of the color. Dealers and buyers of colored stones aren't accustomed to paying for illusions.

I've even heard the expression "the art of recutting" – when a cutter, by altering the facet pattern and polishing it more thoroughly, achieves better light reflection and color enhancement. But can we really talk about art here? What message did the master intend to convey? What creative resonance can their creation evoke? Only pleasure in the beauty of the stone and admiration for the cutter's skill – we've already discussed this.

5. So what exactly is the art of cutting? How can an artist use a cut stone to express a creative idea that resonates with people?

A week ago, I presented several works from four thematic collections at an exhibition in Munich. I'll give two examples: "Flowers" and "Heritage." I won't fully explain the meaning of the images and symbols; try to grasp them with your mind or feel them with your heart. To help, each stone has a short text. In Japan, there was an art form called netsuke—carved figurines of bone or stone depicting people and animals, accompanied by a short poem. This poem, like a key, provides a sketch of the situation and opens the door to your imagination, bringing the figurine to life. So it is with my stones: flowers are merely symbols, denoting certain aspects of our lives.

Forget-me-not

When it's time for me to leave, I won't disappear.

I will dissolve in the cool evening breeze; I will sprout among the bright spring grass. I will greet you with the song of distant stars and smile at you with every drop of dew.

Recognize my joy in the light that embraces you. Hear my voice in the whisper of the wind that dances with you. See my body in the subtle sparkles of forget-me-nots.

Don't forget me - and we will be together.

"Rose"

 They say stars fade as they fall from the sky. This isn't true. Only the star's body fades, while its soul settles within a flower to rest for a brief period of blooming, and then, bidding farewell to its fallen petals, ascends upward and bursts into renewed light, filled with the quiet charm of a summer morning.

Every star has its own character. Some glow like a bright tulip, others hide behind a scattering of dandelions. Some attract with their color, others with their scent... But some, like the queens of a flower garden, are perfect in every way.

I'll place a white rose at your head. Let the Star shine!

Lotus

Our life is music.

In the dark depths of the Unknowable, like a lotus bud, the first tremor of a melody is born—swelling, drawing strength from deeply hidden roots; spreading into the joyful green of leaves. Like a strong stem, the piercing main motif reaches upward—from the dark silt of matter, through the turbid waters of Ignorance, through the purity of Awareness, higher and higher—to the clear primordial Light, to blossom within it as a beautiful flower of Perfection, and dissolve, becoming Light itself…

Blessed are those who have known the structure of Harmony!

Now, another example. Some of you have probably seen the announcement and photos of the first stones from my new project, "HERITAGE," on Facebook. The goal of this project is to collect the seeds of wisdom scattered throughout the world's cultural heritage and to express them in the design of cut stones. Images, symbols, and patterns—typical of a particular culture—are combined into a composition, which is reproduced in the faceted pattern. Beyond the meaning of each element, this composition itself also has significance, and, as a rule, has more than one level of understanding.

For example, the stone dedicated to Japanese culture on the pavilion features 60 rays of the rising sun—a symbol of vitality, wealth, and prosperity—and a sakura blossom in the center—a symbol of beauty and the transience of life. Asanoha—a traditional Japanese design symbolizing the union of Strength and Beauty as two faces of a single Perfection—covers the crown of the stone, demonstrating how the symbols on the pavilion evolve into a synthesis. But this is only the first layer. You can delve deeper, understanding how these symbols interact in reality and discovering these connections in the play of light within the stone…

The short text included with each stone will help you grasp the design's compositional concept. You can try to grasp it with your mind or feel it with your heart. But even if you simply look at the stones and admire their beauty, it's clear that my time spent developing the designs and cutting them was well worth it.

I'd like to highlight the third stone in this project—a stone dedicated to Tibetan culture. This stone has its own history, and it's the only one born before the very idea for this project. Symbolically, this stone represents the Kalachakra Mandala—in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the Palace of the Deities, a three-dimensional model of the Universe. I worked on this design for about two years, and the first thought of faceting the Mandala arose at the very beginning of my work—about 15 years ago—and then seemed an unattainable dream. Perhaps the seeds of this idea were planted before I even worked with the stone, in 2002 in Austria, where His Holiness the Dalai Lama gave the Kalachakra Initiation. When I learned that the Mandala contains 722 Deities, it became clear that the stone must have 722 facets—correspondingly. The diagram of the stone was completed in the spring of 2012—and then, looking at it, I realized that faceting it was impossible. But the task was already before me, and all that remained was to get to work. For me, this year marks an incredibly important milestone: having taken a step beyond the possible, my consciousness changed. And so—by September 2012, the tenth anniversary of our first meeting with His Holiness, the stone was completed. Circumstances conspired to ensure that our second meeting took place that same year, and the stone was presented to the Dalai Lama as a sign of reverence for the Teacher, the Teaching, and the Path to it, and a token of gratitude for the inspiration he had bestowed.

I won't go into detail about the symbolism of this design—it's quite complex for the uninitiated. The description takes up four full pages of text and illustrations. I'll just say that not only do the facets correspond to the Mandala Deities, but their groups, relative positions, and even the sizes and shapes of the geometric figures are also respected. And since spiritual practice and philosophy are not only an integral part but the foundation of Tibetan culture, there was no doubt that this stone would become the crown jewel of the "HERITAGE" project.

6. What's next? Clearly, forecasting is risky business. I'll still try to glimpse the future, for I don't stand on a level playing field like the average person, but on a hill of experience and market trend analysis, so I can see a little further. I'd venture to suggest that the quality standards of precision cutting will improve as cutting equipment develops and enthusiasts who have once experienced perfection in cutting competitions enter the market. To this end, we are holding and will continue to expand such competitions, attracting not only amateurs but also professional craftsmen. We will also offer more training courses in precision cutting, demonstrating the real differences between a good cut and a perfect one.

On the other hand, I can't let the tiny bud of cutting art wither. I'm currently working on another educational project. I want to go to school. It may seem ridiculous, but I want to go to school not to study, but to teach. And to do that, I need to choose not just any school, but a prestigious one, with a high level of education and well-rounded development for children, preferably with an emphasis on the arts.

Until now, the idea of ​​teaching children how to cut stones was something that only crazy parents (crazy in a good way—passionate lovers of cutting) had ever dreamed of. Until then, no one considered cutting stones as an art form. But today, as part of supplementary education, children are taught painting, sculpture, music, singing, dancing… There are even sports disciplines that are given considerable attention. Why not embrace a creative approach to cutting stones? Let me try to list the advantages.

a) Cutting promotes the development of many positive qualities: patience, attentiveness, accuracy, a sense of harmony, spatial imagination, interest in natural sciences.

b) Gemstone cutting is a wonderful way to spend your free time. Today, a real challenge arises: how to distract teenagers from the computer and remove them from the virtual world of computer games, which often foster aggression. One promising solution is to redirect their attention to activating their creative potential, specifically, working with gemstones.

c) Teens gain skills in a field that can easily evolve from a hobby into a profession. Of course, not all students who complete the course will become professionals, just as not all music school graduates will make it onto the big stage. But potentially, everyone will have this opportunity—and then it all depends on their desire.

d) I have very high (many say excessively high) standards for cutting quality. When I teach someone, I impart all my knowledge, without hiding any secrets, and, accordingly, I ensure that my students achieve results comparable to my level of work. In 2012 (2012 again!), I hosted the Russian Open 2012 international cutting competition in Moscow. After participating in this competition, Jim Finlayson, president of the English Guild of Cutters, told me that he had never received such low scores. But the judging was objective – the judges didn't know whose stones belonged to whom and applied the same approach to everyone. Knowing that the Romans' training weapons were twice as heavy as their combat weapons, I am very demanding of my students. And, having gone through this rigorous training, they show brilliant results in competitions. In 2014, four of my students from Russia competed in the American Guild of Diamond Cutters competition for the first time. As you can see, three of them received scores above 99 out of a possible 100, and only one scored 98.82. The closest competitor, from South Africa, scored only 94.9, and the others scored even lower. And 20-year-old Alexandra Zholudeva received 99.8 points—the fourth-highest result in the history of this competition. This wasn't a victory for individual talented children; it was a victory for the school—the Russian school of diamond cutting. Therefore, by applying my approach to teaching, I am confident of achieving high results—it is possible to develop true champions who will defend the honor of not only their school but also their country in competitions at various levels. But more on that later.

e) Finally, through both training and subsequent experience in this wonderful (in my opinion) hobby, people receive a product that has a truly real value. Unlike other hobbies, which are usually expensive—sometimes very expensive—this hobby can be profitable. Moreover, the work to organize the market for precision and artistic cutting is carried out not only with cutters but also with consumers—collectors and stone lovers—as well as with experts—gemologists and appraisers. Yes, with you, my esteemed colleagues, because it is our task to explain to all market participants why one cut stone can cost several times more than another made from the same rough. And this is already the reality of today. Even at a single exhibition—the Pueblo Gem Show in Tucson—faceted citrines from Brazil, piled high on a tray, sell for $2-3 per carat, while the same citrines by John Dyer cost $30-40 per carat—15-20 times more. And these aren't even art objects, just jewelry stones!

But let's return to the educational project. Until now, I've taught for older students—my ages ranged from 20 to 65. But why not lower the threshold, starting, say, at 14-15 years old? There's already a precedent—on the screen you see the first stone cut this year by my eight-year-old son. And this project specifically aims to develop creative cutting skills combined with precision quality. Students will solve problems such as choosing the logo of a famous brand, creating a design, and cutting a stone based on that design. Or expressing a given concept in a cutting design, say, Virtue. It's hard for us to imagine, but the flexibility of a child's mind is capable of much.

7. Today, there are almost no true gem-cutting artists on the market—at least, I can only name one—but their work is far from classic; it's more like stone carving with elements of classic cutting. But I think the potential of a cut stone as an optical instrument is far from exhausted. It's like in painting: a true artist often needs just paint, a brush, and a canvas; a genius needs just a pencil and a napkin. But lacking talent or inner creative potential, an artist begins to seek out new means of expression, using not just plain paint, but metallic, luminous, three-dimensional, and so on. But external effects will never replace the inner content, and a daub of paint will remain just that: a ridiculous daub.

The days of Michelangelo or Leonardo in gem cutting are still to come. So far, no one—well, almost no one—uses cut stone deliberately as a tool for expressing ideas, thoughts, emotions, or associations, like music, painting, or literature. But the first, modest attempts are already emerging. Of course, the first drops are not yet a storm, but they foreshadow one. And—who knows?—perhaps centuries from now, people will remember our conference as an official starting point—the birth of a new art.