"15 Years of Artistic Cutting: From the Philosopher's Stone to World Heritage"

The pursuit of perfection as a direction of evolution in cutting

Ladies and gentlemen! Before we begin our conversation, please allow me to thank Gokhran of Russia and personally Andrey Vladimirovich, Veronika Yuryevna, Svetlana Alexandrovna, and Vladimir Alexandrovich, without whose kind invitation and comprehensive assistance this meeting would not have been possible.

Some of you may have heard of me, but for the rest, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Victor Tuzlukov, and I primarily cut colored stones, which in our country are called gemstones. I began seriously pursuing this noble profession quite late, when I was already over forty. Fifteen years ago, I was fortunate enough to graduate from the Moscow branch of the Gemological Institute of America (GIA)—when it still existed—and receive a qualification as an expert gemologist, which greatly helps me in my work. So, what's happening in the world of gemstone cutting these days?

Some of you may have heard of me, but for the rest, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Victor Tuzlukov, and I primarily cut colored stones, which in our country are called gemstones. I began seriously pursuing this noble profession quite late, when I was already over forty. Fifteen years ago, I was fortunate enough to graduate from the Moscow branch of the Gemological Institute of America (GIA)—when it still existed—and receive a qualification as an expert gemologist, which greatly helps me in my work. So, what's happening in the world of gemstone cutting these days?

The term "precision cut" has become increasingly popular lately. Let's try to understand what it means in the words of different market participants and how much more precise one cut is than another.I've heard a variety of opinions. Some use the term to describe a cut made by automated machines—one design, one size, and with consistent errors. Others use the term to describe more or less perfectly cut stones, with a small window (a window!) and a 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? <Slide> I've heard different opinions from various people. Some use this term to describe cuts made by automatic machines – all with the same design, size, and identical flaws. Others characterize it as referring to more or less evenly cut stones, with a small window (yes, a window!), mediocre polishing, but – rare and especially valuable. A third group says that a precision cut should be innovative – containing curved facets and even carved elements, and the more complex and elaborate the design, the more "precise" the cut becomes. Finally, a fourth group thinks that a precision cut is anything that differs from standard shapes. How can we bring all these opinions to a common denominator?

The answer is obvious. According to the meaning of the word, precision cutting must first and foremost 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? Participating in, judging, and organizing gem cutting competitions has given me some experience in this area. I will try to summarize and elaborate on it.

To answer questions about cutting defects, let's imagine a stone not simply as a single whole, but as a collection of individual design elements, such as facets, edges, meeting points (points where four or more facets meet), and pairs of symmetrical facets (according to the given cutting design). We will consider any deviation from the ideal as a defect – scratches or spots on the surface of the facets, additional facets not provided for in the design, chips, violation of facet symmetry, etc. In terms of size (degree of visibility), defects can be divided into three categories:

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.

Separately, undesirable optical effects can be identified, such as windowing or light leakage. By counting all these defects, taking into account their size, it is possible to speak with sufficient accuracy and objectivity about a numerical expression of the quality of the cut.

Therefore, in order for the cutting to be precise, it is necessary to minimize cutting defects during the process, monitoring and eliminating them as they appear.

Fortunately, I didn't learn from professional gem cutters. I acquired my initial knowledge and skills from an amateur, a woman who is a serious biologist and only pursues gem cutting as a hobby. Nobody stopped me while I was working on the stone – I wasn't afraid to strive for perfection, because I didn't know the limitations typical of professionals. At the beginning of my journey, professionals condescendingly laughed at me: why spend so much time on precisely aligning the facets? Who needs such a mirror-like polish? Is it worth losing precious fractions of a carat to "close the window"? To put it in layman's terms – if you can't see the difference, why pay more? But that's where the mistake lies. The difference is not just noticeable; it's obvious and can increase the value of the stone far more than what was spent on precision cutting.

Let me now explain and justify this statement. To do this, let's look back 16 years, to 2007. These were my second competition, organized by the American Guild of Gemcutters, in the "Master" category. I made a stone and, before sending it to the judges, showed it to a wealthy man in Moscow. He asked me to make him an identical one. I made the stone, but couldn't deliver it – the man had gone away somewhere. Since I was making the same thing for the second time, the stone turned out to be slightly more precise than the first – some of the meeting points were better, the polishing was more perfect in some places. Of course, only a specialist could notice this, only with a magnifying glass and only under special lighting, but... I later showed both stones to many people and asked which one they liked more. As a rule, everyone said the second one. Nobody could clearly explain why – they just liked it, that's all.

It was a real revelation. It turns out that our eye is such a perfect optical instrument that it can see far more than the brain is capable of processing. This difference is perceived on an emotional level: whether you like it more or less. In this case, the difference was negligible – two stones cut by the same cutter almost one after the other. But even this small detail can influence a buyer's decision: to buy or not to buy. After all, the decision is often made emotionally. And what if one stone is made by a master craftsman, and the other by an ordinary cutter? And what if one has a precision cut, and the other a commercial cut?...

For all the following years, up to the present day, I have worked and continue to work on this difference. When the research is complete, I may publish its results. Now, let's focus on one very important gemological characteristic – perhaps the most important for colored stones – color. Let's see how precision cutting – or rather, mirror polishing – affects the color of the stone.

I first saw this phenomenon by chance. In 2016, I was invited for the first time to teach courses on precision gem cutting at GIT in Bangkok. This photo shows graduates from one group – it included representatives of six nationalities: a Thai, a Malaysian, a Chinese, a Lebanese, an Indian, and a Colombian! It was certainly interesting working with them… So, during the course, I was cutting samples of cubic zirconia. But the groups were different; some students gave me more time to work on the sample, while others required more attention. As a result, in one of the courses, I simply didn't have time to polish the stone – I constantly had to work with the students. I finished the stone at the grinding stage, which is roughly equivalent to the final polish that most stones cut by professionals have. Well, I finished it and that was that. I wasn't going to sell it, I just put it in a box next to another stone I had also made during the classes. And that's when I saw it…

Before me lay two stones of completely different colors. More precisely, the hue was the same, but the saturation and tone were completely different. But they were cut from the same piece of cubic zirconia, which has no color zoning. The stone's design and facet angles were identical. What influenced the color so much?

There could only be one answer – polishing. To understand the reason, I turned to the physics of the process, or more precisely, to optics. And then everything fell into place. Let's remember what size diamond grit is usually used by cutters. 1-2 microns. It provides good speed and an acceptable result – under a gemological lamp or diffused daylight, the surface appears mirror-like. But under point light, when the glare moves away from the surface of the facet, small scratches are visible, and the surface appears slightly silky. This is because diamonds of this size leave scratches commensurate with the wavelength of light in the visible range – from 0.4 to 0.8 microns. This means that light falling on the facet does not simply reflect or refract, passing into the stone, but is also slightly scattered, which means that the surface irregularities partially reflect surrounding objects. This gives the stone a grayish tint and slightly brightens it, since the surrounding objects are additional sources of reflected light. As a result, we perceive not the stone's own color, but the visible color, which differs from the real one.

I didn't set out to quantify, in numerical terms, how much good polishing changes the color of a stone. Perhaps some gemologist will delve into this thoroughly and conduct a real study, especially since today laser optics and electron microscopes allow us to measure the depth and density of polishing scratches, compare them with the wavelengths of the corresponding light sources, calculate the absorption spectra and reflection intensity, and derive numerical values ​​of visible color characteristics. I didn't have that goal. I can only state that this fact exists and explain why. I will only add that the difference in color caused by polishing strongly depends on the nature of the light source. In diffused daylight, it is not so noticeable, but it completely changes the stone under the light of numerous point sources. This also needs to be taken into account.

Now I want to show how polishing can change the value of a stone, not on abstract synthetic raw material, but on a very specific stone with a very real market value. A few years ago, I had the opportunity to repair an unheated Madagascar sapphire weighing 15.98 carats. I needed to fix a chip, and at the same time, I decided to repolish it (this was my initiative – the client simply didn't know about the effect of polishing on the color). You can see the difference. Before the repair, the stone was certified by GIA simply as blue; after the repair, it became cornflower blue, which was also confirmed by a GIA certificate. The loss during the repair was only 0.54 carats out of 15.98, which is just over 3%, and the losses from repolishing can simply be disregarded – I'm sure they didn't exceed 0.01 carats. But the difference in price was at least 30%! As the client said – perhaps this stone had to be damaged to become so much better!

Of course, I don't mean to say that cutting in general, and polishing in particular, improves the stone's inherent color. Let me emphasize again: perfect polishing allows us to see the true color of the stone, the saturation of which is not diminished by light scattering on the surface of the facets. And the absence of undesirable optical effects caused by incorrect facet angles – such as a window or light leakage – allows us to focus our perception exclusively on the stone's own color.

With the development of the market for high-quality gemstone cutting, the recutting of stones in one form or another is becoming increasingly popular. So what exactly is recutting, what types are there, when is it advisable to use it, and in what cases does it yield the maximum effect? ​​All these questions are not as simple as they seem.

I first discussed the recutting of gemstones in detail in my presentation at the gemological symposium in Paris in 2015. At that time, there was already some work being done in this area, but I only began to approach this issue systematically and from a scientific point of view quite recently, just three years ago. All the numerous individual cases of recutting can be reduced to three main categories:

• complete re-cutting with possible change of shape;
• re-cutting while preserving the shape of the stone, but possibly changing the design;
• "Simple" repolishing along the existing facets.

First of all, let's emphasize that the goal of recutting is to increase the value of the stone. Clearly, a complete recutting requires significant losses and can only be justified when the cost of the work significantly exceeds the cost of the lost material. For example, in the case of artistic cutting, when the master creates an art object using inexpensive raw materials, such as quartz or topaz. This exquisite Lotus was made from an already cut kunzite weighing 257 carats; the losses amounted to 37%. After that, it was a centerpiece of my work at many exhibitions in different countries. I will not dwell on stone cutting as an art in detail; that is the topic of another conversation. I will only say that if the price of a painting is determined not only by the price of the paints, canvas, and the artist's labor costs, then the same principle applies to the cutting of art objects. This particular design is called "A Touch of Perfection." A parable has been written about it, which says that for a true artist, the means are not important to reflect Perfection – be it canvas, paper, marble, or a crystal for cutting.

The most common type of recutting involves preserving the stone's original shape. There are few classic cutting styles, the most frequent being round, oval, cushion, octagon, and pear. However, cutting styles vary. For example, Portuguese cutting predominates in Brazil, while in Burma and Sri Lanka, a stepped lower section and a wedge-shaped upper section are common. As a rule, commercial cutting doesn't pay much attention to proper optics, making the pavilion too convex. This increases the weight of the stone, but also creates a "window" that prevents the color from being fully revealed. This is usually overlooked because until recently, the market sold simply the material, not the stone itself. But sometimes, proper cutting changes the stone so dramatically that it's impossible to believe you're holding the same sample.

Perhaps the most striking example in my practice occurred two years ago, during one of my trips to Thailand. My friend brought me a spinel from Vietnam weighing 5.17 carats, with a high pavilion and, consequently, terrible light leakage. The stone looked lifeless. To be honest, I didn't want to take it – I didn't see any potential, because I only glanced at it and didn't immediately realize that the color was due to the incorrect cut. I thought it was just dark. But my friend persuaded me. He asked me to do something, anything. The losses weren't important, as he said, the stone couldn't look any worse anyway. I took it, although I strongly doubted that it would look any better. The weight loss from recutting was 0.41 carats, about 8%. But it became a completely different stone. Having bought it in its original form for $700, my friend sold it for $12,000 and was very happy.

The weight loss during this type of recutting depends heavily on the shape of the original stone and can range from 5 to 30 percent. The most favorable case is when the stone has a high pavilion with a slight bulge, which is characteristic of some sapphires. In that case, only a small area around the culet needs to be cut off. If the stone has a medium-height pavilion and a "window" due to a large bulge, that's also not bad. Then, to close the "window," it is enough to cut off this bulge, which will also cost no more than 8-10 percent of the initial weight. However, if the stone with a "window" has an insignificant bulge with a low pavilion, then it will be necessary to "reduce the face" by cutting the girdle area, and the losses will then be the greatest, 20-25 percent.

But when assessing justifiable losses, another factor must be taken into account: so-called "magic sizes." These are threshold values ​​for the stone's weight, at which the price per carat sharply increases. For example, the price per carat of a ruby ​​weighing over five carats significantly exceeds the price of a stone slightly under five. Therefore, if a cornflower sapphire weighs 10.2 carats, you should think very carefully before deciding to recut it.

Well, I've saved the most interesting and rare category of recutting—repolishing—for last. Strictly speaking, it should be divided into two subcategories: regrinding, which corrects the symmetry of facets and meeting points followed by polishing, and pure repolishing, which uses existing facets without changing their configuration.

Actually, when I said "simple repolishing," I used the words in quotation marks. The process is far from simple, if, of course, we want to minimize losses. To repolish a facet, you need to "find" it—in our case, with a cutting machine with a stone mounted on it, you need to find the angular coordinates of the facet—the rotation index around the optical axis and its angle of inclination relative to the girdle plane. If the stone was cut on a modern cutting machine with good symmetry, this significantly simplifies the task. Then you can fairly accurately predict where to look for symmetrical facets. In most cases, however, each of the 150 to 200 facets must be searched for individually. Typically, finding the facets requires more time, attention, and effort than the repolishing itself.

I was just talking about losses. Repolishing with a slight change in facet symmetry requires very little – we usually lose no more than 1-2 percent of the initial weight of the stone. If it's just a simple repolishing, the losses can be completely disregarded; they amount to tenths, and sometimes even hundredths of a percent. My first repolished stone was a 44-carat unheated sapphire from Sri Lanka. The losses amounted to just over 0.01 carats, which is about 0.03%. As another example, I can mention a beautiful neon Paraiba tourmaline from Mozambique – optically pure, weighing 92 carats. I had a hard time convincing its owner to have it repolished. But, if before he was ready to sell the stone for 4.5 million dollars, after repolishing he wouldn't even consider selling it for less than 5 million. The losses amounted to 0.02 carats. The gain in price was half a million dollars. Now you understand why I'm ready to put simple repolishing into a separate category. Compared to recutting, the losses are almost a hundred times less! It's like the diamond, the last on the Mohs hardness scale, surpasses its nearest neighbor – sapphire – by tens of times in absolute terms.

I want to emphasize once again that this kind of repolishing is the highest level of skill in diamond cutting. Of course, it cannot be entrusted to an ordinary diamond cutter. Once, a friend of mine from Belgium came to visit – a second-generation diamond cutter, the son of a diamond cutter, who himself had been working in the business for over 15 years. He asked me to show him precision polishing. After four days of trial and error, having repolished his first stone in this new way, he exclaimed: "This is a completely different world! I haven't seen such polishing anywhere else in Europe!" Later, he wrote to me that after showing this stone to his client, he immediately received nine new orders.

How can we bring these new quality standards to the market? One of my clients, after ordering several stones from me, later reproached me: "What have you done to me? Now I can't buy anything on the market – as soon as I look through a loupe, I lose all desire to buy a stone!" That's why I've come to you today. Our conversation is just a humble brick in the wall, a small part of the work I've outlined for myself to achieve this goal. This work encompasses all participants in the gemstone market. I work with consumers – private buyers and collectors – exhibiting my work at exhibitions and talking about it. I work with jewelers and jewelry brands, creating cutting designs for them and cutting specific stones. I work with gemstone dealers, doing both primary cutting and recutting of already finished stones. I work with cutters, training them and sharing my experience. And I can proudly say that many of them have shown very high results in cutting technique competitions – such as my student Pavel Filinov, who is present here, who won the American Gemcutters Guild competition in the Grand Master class with a perfect score of 100 out of 100. And finally, I work with gemologists and appraisers, speaking at conferences and talking about the latest news in precision cutting.

I'd like to dwell a little more on gem cutting training. Before Bangkok, I worked at College of Entrepreneurship No. 11 and conducted several training courses there. Knowing that the training weapons of the Romans were twice as heavy as their combat weapons, I was always 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 participated for the first time in the competitions of the American Guild of Gem Cutters. As you can see, three of them received scores above 99 points out of a possible 100, only one – 98.82. The closest competitor from South Africa scored only 94.9 points, the rest even less. And the young but very talented Alexandra Zholudeva received 99.8 points – the fourth best result in the entire history of these competitions. This was not a victory of individual talented children, it was a victory of the school – the Russian school of gem cutting. Therefore, applying my approach to training, I am confident in a high result – it is possible to train real champions who will defend the honor not only of their school, but also of their country in competitions of various levels. But more on that later.

Amateurs and professionals in gemstone cutting: two different approaches,

which have not intersected until now.

We live in interesting times. A time of dramatic changes in the quality of gemstone cutting. It seems like only yesterday we spoke disparagingly about Asian cutting, where it was impossible to find proportional, symmetrical, well-polished stones, let alone without a "window." The "window" itself is a separate story. Gemologists keep saying that a cut stone is primarily an optical instrument; that its main task is to reflect and refract light, revealing the color and beauty of the internal reflections as fully as possible, and therefore, the less we see of the surrounding objects in the stone and the more we see of the stone itself, the better... But the most conservative markets simply refuse to hear this. For example, in such a famous gemstone cutting and polishing region as Idar-Oberstein in Germany, stones with a window are still considered the norm.

More flexible Asia, on the other hand, is changing more dynamically. For almost seven years now, I have been regularly coming to Bangkok for work and I can see how the quality of the stones that are brought to me for recutting is changing. Of course, to some extent, my clients are developing along with me and the market. If before they often brought me almost hopeless, low-quality stones to make something saleable out of them, now they bring more very good stones to make them simply stunning. But, in addition to this, I notice how the overall level of cutting quality has begun to change. And it is changing precisely in the direction of improvement.

I'd now like to touch on terminology. The term "precision cut" has become ubiquitous these days, as we just discussed. On the one hand, this speaks to the evolution of quality and the pursuit of perfection. On the other hand, overuse of this term, with or without reason, discredits its meaning. I've already seen one European cutter, racing ahead of the curve, rush to declare his work "Ultra Precision Cut." Ultra, mega, super, duper—and so on, in all sorts of combinations. A little later, we'll discuss my proposals to express the scale of cut quality in numbers and definitions, based on some experience and a natural inclination toward analysis and structuring.

So, the word "experience" was mentioned. I'm often asked how long it took to cut a particular stone. I usually answer: so many days or weeks of work and sixteen years of experience. Soon I'll be seventeen—my experience dates back to 2006, although I've cut stones before. Let me explain why.

This section of our conversation is called "Amateurs and Professionals in Diamond Cutting: Two Fields That Never Intersected." Why is that? Don't amateur diamond cutters follow the professionals, trying to get closer to them on their own, amateur level? I'm going to say some strange things next. In precision cutting, professionals are far from amateurs. As I've already said, we're at a turning point, when not only the quality of cutting is changing, but also the very approach to quality assessment criteria. And when did today's professionals learn? That's right—yesterday. Consequently, they learned by aligning themselves with yesterday's quality criteria, which are now outdated. Amateurs are not burdened by these limitations. They learn today.

In that same year, 2006, I visited America for the first time. I'll tell you about that experience, slightly jumping ahead, since we're talking about how amateurs learn. While I was there, in Arizona, I met one of the best precision gem cutters, the president of the American Guild of Gem Cutters, a member of the US national team, who had competed several times at the world championship in precision gem cutting in Australia. His name was Art Cavan, and I still consider him one of my teachers, although I formally didn't receive a single lesson from him. After looking at his work, I asked him: "How long did you study?" "From scratch to master in three months," was the answer. "Oh," I said, "you must have had a good teacher..." "No, I taught myself," he replied.

Here I need to explain in more detail what the American Gemcutters Guild is in general and what it has become for me in particular. As you have probably already understood, this non-profit organization is an association of gemcutting enthusiasts. In America, England, and Australia, this hobby is very well developed. Enthusiasts unite in associations, clubs, and guilds where they can communicate, exchange technical innovations, develop and present their gemcutting designs, organize meetings, conferences, and... competitions. This last opportunity particularly interested me when, in 2006, I stumbled upon the website of the American Gemcutters Guild on the internet. By that time, I had already cut several stones, but how to understand how well I was doing? Competitions seemed like a good opportunity – not to beat someone, but to assess my level of work. It turned out that competitions are only held for Guild members, but membership is open; anyone who applies and pays a symbolic fee can join. Well, that wasn't a problem. And I started studying the judging criteria.

Among these criteria were – the absence of polishing defects (scratches, chips, points on the surface of the facets), the meeting point of four or more facets, symmetry, the width of the girdle, and others. All participants in their category worked on the same stone, according to a given diagram – only one stone. Speed ​​was not a factor; speed was irrelevant. Each participant made the stone at home and sent it to the organizing committee, where the judges evaluated the stone according to the specified criteria, using a 10x magnifying glass. It was then, in 2006, that I learned to look at a stone through the eyes of a judge. That's when my experience began.

And the experience was quite successful. Of the four classes (Novice, Pre-Master, Master, and Grandmaster), I immediately entered the second and achieved a very respectable result – third place with 93 points out of 100. This greatly inspired me. And, after my second competition in 2007 in the Master class, I earned the right to compete in the individual standings of the Australian International Competition, which was informally considered the world championship. At that time, no one from Russia had yet competed in this type of competition, and an additional incentive was the desire to represent Russian cutting with dignity at the global level. But I didn't want to rush. And the first time, in 2008, when I was cutting stones for the Australian competition (and three stones were required), I deliberately left a few defects to understand how strict the Australians were in judging.

The results showed that my approach was more rigorous – the judges simply didn't notice some of my flaws. And, although the result was quite modest – 15th place in the individual competition – I was happy. I understood that I could do more. Immediately after Australia, I decided to try myself again in the American competitions, this time in the Grandmaster class. My friend and teacher, Art Cavan, said then: "Actually, we don't have a single certified Grandmaster. Try it, maybe you'll be the first!" At that time, very strong cutters participated in the Grandmaster category. Three of them were members of the American national team at the world championship, including Art himself. They all scored over 99 points – I simply had no chance. But I got a perfect score... It was the first ever perfect score in the highest category. I don't know what Olympic champions feel, but it was probably something similar. After all, it was impossible to surpass this result – only to repeat it. And I can proudly say that some of my students, such as Pavel Filinov, whom I already mentioned, brilliantly repeated it, confirming the capabilities of the Russian school of gem cutting.

However, the pinnacle of my journey in gem cutting competitions was 2010. This was the next championship in Australia (they are held every two years), and the result was again a record-breaking score – 299.13 points out of 300! This record held for ten years until it was broken by a student of my student from Taiwan, a fragile girl named Ilisha Reimi, who did the practically impossible – all three of her stones received the highest possible score! 300 out of 300! But that's a completely different story...

I'd like to highlight another type of gem-cutting competition. I call them creative competitions because they don't have such strict criteria for assessing cutting precision, and stones are judged primarily on their appearance. Unlike technical competitions, where all competitors cut identical stones, these competitions allow stones of any shape and material. As a result, it's not the cutter's skill that's judged so much as the beauty and rarity of the stone itself. For example, a 60-carat, neon-colored Paraiba, even if cut by an average cutter, will have a clear advantage over, say, a kunzite, no matter how fantastically cut, despite the fact that kunzite is immeasurably more difficult to cut than tourmaline. For example, in what is arguably the most prestigious competition today, the Spectrum Awards, held by the American Association of Colored Stone Dealers, stones with windows are sometimes awarded, something simply impossible in cutting competitions.

It's also worth noting that the jury for such competitions typically doesn't include gem cutters. Instead, it's jewelers, dealers, exhibition organizers, and even journalists who are often unaware of changes in gem cutting quality standards. For example, last year, the American Association invited a gem cutter and artistic cutting designer, Professor Clemens Schwarzinger from Austria, to serve on the jury for the first time.

Interestingly, it's very difficult for jury members to make decisions when the evaluation criteria are so vague, as in creative competitions. For example, criteria such as the stone's visual appeal, or the completeness of the artist's vision, are all important. In such cases, a semblance of objectivity is achieved by increasing the jury's size to obtain some statistics. In 2012, I had the opportunity to evaluate entries as a member of the IU Awards jury in Hong Kong. The jury included some very famous people, such as the renowned jeweler Wallace Chan and Dr. Schwartz, vice president of Harry Winston, but there was only one cutter, and the focus was on cut. It was fascinating to watch the judges struggle to decide between an emerald from Brazil, a pink sapphire from Sri Lanka, a faceted pearl from Japan, and quartz and topaz cut by our craftsmen. Then, choosing the right moment, I said to the competition organizer—quietly, but loud enough for the other judges to hear: "Look, in this topaz, the chrysanthemum pattern is not created by facets, as usual, but by internal reflections. This is the pinnacle of cutting!" It was this topaz that won the competition's grand prize. The pink sapphire, however, came in second.

It must be said that in Russia we also tried to hold gem cutting competitions. The first attempt was in 2011, and the rules of the American Gemcutters Guild were taken as a basis. This was also the first attempt to bring new standards of gemstone cutting quality to Russia. It was then that our current well-known masters and authoritative mentors – those who understood and accepted these standards – learned about these standards. Unfortunately, the market was not yet ready then. Professional gem cutters did not understand why such micron-level precision was needed if no one could see it without a magnifying glass anyway, and why spend precious time on it. But there is a difference, and this was already discussed in the first part of our meeting. Now I will say that in the following year, 2012, the Russian Open international competition was held in Russia, where for the first time an attempt was made to combine technique and creativity. Participants had to make two stones – according to a given diagram as part of the mandatory program and their own design as part of the free program. Gem cutters from five countries participated in the competition – the USA, England, Switzerland, New Zealand, and Russia. It is worth noting that the judging approach was very strict. One of the participants, the president of the English Guild of Gemcutters, Jim Finlayson, later said that he had never received such a low score for his stone before. But, perhaps, it was precisely this strict approach that set a high bar for our masters, who later brilliantly performed at world competitions and are now passing on their knowledge to their students.

I already mentioned today that I had to work extensively with various players in the gemstone market. I didn't spend time building and developing my own brand—there was no time for that, because, in addition to everything I've mentioned, there was a huge amount of work to do to develop cutting as an art form, which we'll discuss in the second part of our conversation. I don't have my own website, and I'm not listed on Wikipedia because all that takes time...

Okay, back to our topic. A key step in the evolution of cutting was the development of a method for assessing cut quality. This method was based on the judging criteria for technical competitions, but was generalized, refined, universal, and adapted to market conditions. A special formula, based on these criteria, calculates a score on a 100-point scale with four decimal places. This score (subject to certain additions and limitations) assigns the cut quality to one of three classes: commercial cut, fine cut, and Elite cut. Each class is further divided into three subclasses. While the first two classes only have numbers, such as "Commercial-2" or "Fine-3," the Elite subclasses have their own names: Elite-Premium, Elite-Extra, and Elite-Ideal. Of course, the Elite-Ideal subclass has very high requirements; such stones are literally rare on the market. The stone must score at least 99 quality points and have no cutting defects that are noticeable to the naked eye or clearly visible under a 10x magnifying glass.

The methodology turned out to be logical, universal, and easy to use with some experience, especially since it was supplemented with special forms and a spreadsheet with formulas to facilitate calculations. But developing a tool wasn't enough; it was more important to propose a mechanism for its implementation and create the necessary conditions. And I remembered an idea that had emerged back in 2010, after my victory in Australia. I wrote letters to the heads of the world's leading amateur diamond cutting associations—the American, Australian, and British Guilds—proposing to combine their respective national competitions into stages of a single World Cup and, in fact, to hold the next championship in the country that won the previous one. The British were hesitant: "Yes, we agree, but the Americans, the Australians…" The Americans also had doubts: "We're ready, but can we persuade the Australians…" The Australians were more succinct: "Go ahead!" Then I paused. Firstly, I had no experience. I needed to create something of my own, try my hand at judging, and figure out a bunch of organizational details. And then, when I saw the sheer volume of work, I realized I couldn't do it alone, and I didn't have any reliable partners at the time.

So, in 2018, after I'd already conducted several cutting training courses in Bangkok at the invitation of the Gem and Jewelry Institute of Thailand (GIT), it was decided to revisit this idea, but at a new level. By then, I'd been a member of the ICA, the International Association of Colored Stone Dealers, for several years and had a good relationship with the directors of this organization, which unites professional market participants worldwide. This opportunity was seen as a unique chance to bring new quality standards to the professional market. The concept was as follows: three stages of the World Faceting Cup would be held on three continents (America, Asia, and Europe). The results and awards ceremony would be held in conjunction with the main global exhibitions: Tucson (February), Bangkok (June), and Munich (October). The judging panel would also be drawn from across the continents, with one member each from Europe, Asia, and America. The stones would be evaluated using the aforementioned cut quality assessment methodology, which, fortunately, was already established and well-practiced. And most importantly, based on the results of the three stages of these competitions, a single world ranking of cutters is compiled, which is updated annually and published in the ICA InColor magazine and other specialized publications.

No sooner said than done. First, I had to secure the support of the ICA as the event's main organizer. After all, developing the gemstone market is a direct responsibility of this association, so their interest was obvious. Then, judges were selected from among reputable cutters, and the matter was agreed upon with them. Documentation was prepared, a budget was calculated, and a rough plan of events was drawn up. The only question left was the investor. As they say, where there's a need, there's an opportunity. In October 2019, at the ICA Congress in Bangkok, I held talks with Sean Gilbertson, President of Gemfields. He expressed extreme interest and included $100,000 annually in the budget to fully fund the project. And then COVID hit...

Having been restricted in my travels, I had to focus on other aspects of the market's evolution, namely, the personalization of the diamond cutter's work. This was sparked by a meeting with the great diamond cutter Gabi Tolkovsky in Germany. I learned then that expert appraisers add a 5% premium to the price of diamonds cut by Tolkovsky. So, a diamond cutter's name can also be a price-determining factor! The only thing left is to make the name one. Clearly, one can follow a brand development marketing strategy, but in this case, the name becomes the brand. But what if you don't have the funds, time, or desire to hire someone or engage in your own promotion? My collaboration with the Lobortas jewelry house came to mind. They created a stunning "Swan" ring with an incredible number of diamonds and entered it into the Guinness Book of World Records, and I was asked to be one of the experts confirming the record. I wondered if such records were possible in diamond cutting.

Research into the Guinness Book of Records provided some insight into the prospects and mechanisms of its operation. Firstly, records related to gemstones were registered in the book. These were mainly the most expensive stones or the largest ones – within a specific mineral variety. For example, the largest faceted topaz. Or the most expensive sapphire. Secondly, not a single name of a gem cutter was registered in the Book. It was either the owners of the stone or the auction house that sold it (in the case of the most expensive stone). Although, this was a little strange. After all, if someone baked the largest pancake in the world, it would be logical to name the baker as the record holder, not the buyer. Oh well. Apparently, to each his own. And finally, to register a record, it must be measurable (the largest), countable (the most numerous), or otherwise verifiable (the fastest, the most expensive, and so on). I decided to start with the largest.

I was then given a large spodumene crystal to facet – weighing about two and a half kilograms. A thorough internet search yielded the following results. At that time, the largest faceted spodumene was faceted in 1959 by the legendary John Sinkankas. It weighs 1800 carats and is located in the Ontario Museum in Toronto (Canada). Faceting spodumene is generally not easy, and faceting a large spodumene is very difficult. Due to its fragility and perfect cleavage, coarse-grained discs cannot be used for roughing – the stone cracks. And a fine-grained disc cuts very slowly, especially large facets. In short, the process took almost six months. Then it was described in detail in the GIA journal “Gems and Gemology”. The resulting stone weighed 3,051 carats, which almost doubled the previous record. So, it was COVID, there wasn't much to do, and correspondence with the Guinness staff began. Finally, the record was officially registered, and I received the first-ever world record certificate issued in the name of the gem cutter. I deliberately included the date of the record in this certificate – May 27, 2020. This day went down in the history of gem cutting with another significant event.

It was on May 27th that I received a GIA identification certificate, which included the comment: "This stone was presented as cut by Victor Tuzlukov." This was no less, and perhaps even more, significant than the Guinness certificate itself. For the first time in history, a world-renowned gemological laboratory listed the master's name on the certificate along with the stone's gemological characteristics. Life, of course, will show how significant this was, but for me, that day—May 27th, 2020—marked the beginning of a new era in the development of cutting. Today, I already have three Guinness certificates, and one of them is for the most cut scapolite in the world, with 3,600 facets. You can see it here, along with the stone itself. So, the road is paved. From now on, I can share this experience and tell others how to go through this process more quickly and without unnecessary headaches.

Cutting is a craft and cutting is an art.

In this part of our meeting, we'll discuss art. I want to warn you right away that I have no formal art history or artistic training, and my understanding of art may differ greatly from the personal opinions of knowledgeable people or even from generally accepted views. Don't judge me harshly. Please try, if not to accept, then at least to understand my perspective and, consequently, the sources and results of my inspiration. In general, I have very strict standards for creativity, no matter what form it takes: whether I write poetry or prose, take artistic photographs, or design stones. And I'm far from ready to call every creative endeavor art.

First of all, before I talk about what I consider art, let me talk about what I do not consider art.

In 1912, a group of artists known as "Donkey's Tail" emerged in Russia. It later included such renowned artists as Kazimir Malevich and Marc Chagall. The name derives from a sensational incident in 1910 in Paris, when the painting "And the Sun Fell Asleep over the Adriatic" was exhibited, supposedly painted by a donkey with a brush tied to its tail. The deception was exposed almost immediately, although the painting was a resounding success. Let's focus on the moment of success, before the deception was exposed, when people truly believed the painting was painted with a donkey's tail. Can this mythical donkey be considered an artist, capable of evoking emotions and associations in the public's mind with his work? Of course not. But success did occur. Who was the artist? In my opinion, the artist was the one who saw certain associations in the abstract daub and gave it a poetic title, which itself began to evoke these associations in the minds of those who saw these unforgettable sunsets and understand how the sun falls asleep over the Adriatic...

Let me give you another example. Once, at an exhibition in St. Petersburg, I saw a modest, round agate cabochon. Its edges were dark, bluish-gray, and the center was blood-red, as if dissolving towards the middle. Interestingly, several thin concentric circles ran across the red area, as if showing a fading pulsation. The stone had a name: "The Last Gaze." Usually, people passed by – there are much more impressive agates on the market. But some people read the name and lingered, gazing at this pulsation, already veiled in the mist of eternity and surrounded by impenetrable darkness. Those who stopped were people who HAD SEEN the last gaze. A hunter stopped, one who had once stood over a fallen animal from which life was ebbing away. A soldier stopped, returning from a hot spot, who had held a dying friend in his arms. They knew that feeling. They saw it in the stone. And that was art.

In my opinion, art should convey some kind of message, some kind of idea. At international exhibitions, I've seen sculptural miniatures that were called the pinnacle of stone carving. For example, a mouse created by Patrick Dreher from Germany. It really is a masterpiece. It truly inspires admiration for the craftsmanship. Every single hair is visible, the eyes sparkle with life. But can this be called art? What thought does this mouse convey? What associations does it evoke? Well, it's a mouse – and that's it... I would call this work the highest level of craftsmanship, without any disparagement whatsoever. But not art.

One more thing. I've heard more than once about the art of recutting stones. It's when you take a stone so imperfectly cut that it appears dead, and with relatively little loss, you force it to reveal its beauty. Sometimes this recutting produces simply astonishing results—we've already discussed this. It's hard to believe it could be the same stone. But what does art have to do with it?

Now let's get closer to the facet cutting. In Vietnam, there is a group called West, known under the brand name Viet Gems. They are unparalleled masters in depicting images on faceted stones using matte facets on a polished background. Flowers, figures of animals and people, zodiac signs, symbols, faces, sometimes entire compositions, even a map of Vietnam – sometimes it seems that they can depict anything. They give them appropriate names – "Sakura Flower," "Alien," "Mafioso," "Hammer and Sickle," even "Sad Charlie Chaplin." Well, that also has a right to exist. Although I have a strict rule: matte facets should not darken the stone; they should only emphasize the features of the design to better express the author's idea. And what kind of idea, for example, is there in depicting an alien or simply a letter of the alphabet, especially under the same name? That's not art either. And we shouldn't forget another important point. Even if we try to use a faceted stone as a means of expressing the author's intention, it nevertheless remains an optical instrument. That is, its task is to maximize the revelation of natural beauty through the refraction and reflection of light. If more than half of the stone's surface is, excuse me, covered with matte facets – what kind of refraction and reflection can we talk about? And if we just need to show some image, like a mafioso or an alien, why use facets for that? Take a plate and engrave whatever you need...

When exhibiting my work and talking to visitors, I often hear the words: "I want to make something myself too!" That, for me, is the difference between true art and craft. If you see a piece of work, you like it, and you want to buy it – that's craft. But if you see an object, and you want to create something of your own under the influence of creative resonance – that's art. The ability to evoke creative resonance.

Now, with your permission, I'll tell you a little about where I started and where I've gotten to. It all began in 2008, when I learned how to use a cutting design program and wanted to try depicting something like this... Then I began studying Buddhist philosophy, met wonderful teachers, and decided to somehow express the emotions that were overwhelming me. An interesting idea came to me—to combine different orders of symmetry in a single stone. Say, 5 and 6. Bearing in mind that 5 is the number of the earthly world, and 6 is the number of the Divine World, I wanted to show how the earthly world on the stone's pavilion transitions into the supermundane world on the crown. How do the five and six connect? Thirty or sixty. Oh wow!—I thought—but 60 is the number of years in the Tibetan zodiac cycle. The Circle of Samsara! Thus was born the idea for the stone, which crystallized in quartz and was gifted to my first Buddhist teacher, Ayang Rinpoche. I will now describe the design of this stone in detail—not to impose any philosophical ideas on you, but to demonstrate an approach to understanding the symbolism of cutting, where each facet has its own precise place and meaning.

The stone's spike symbolizes the starting point of evolution; the point from which the Universe began to unfold. ("From the Unified Center, the Energies, newly awakened, rushed into space...") From this point, from the center, five rays emanate, united in their duality—the five Elements, the five Primordial Elements, each in two aspects: male and female, spiritual and material. Earth, Water, Air, Fire, Ether—they form the five points where Humanity emerges. From each of these points emanate 12 rays. In Buddhism, these are the 12 Nidanas, or great Causes of suffering, which lead man into the circle of Samsara—the cycle of his reincarnations. In the Tibetan zodiac, this is reflected by twelve animals (hare, snake, dragon, goat, etc.) and five colors (white, yellow, red, blue, black). It is this circle of Samsara that is designated in the stone by 60 facets of the girdle, which correspond to the 60 years of the full cycle of the Tibetan calendar.

Now let's move from the circle of Samsara up the path of evolution—to the crown of the stone. We see groups of ten rays emerging from this circle and gathering at six points. These six points represent the six worlds or six possibilities of rebirth (the worlds of gods, demons, humans, animals, spirits, and hellish beings), and the ten rays for each represent the ten virtuous and unvirtuous deeds, which roughly correspond to the Ten Commandments of Christianity and are the causes a person creates on earth, which will then manifest their consequences in the corresponding world of rebirth. Finally, from each of these six points emanate seven rays, signifying the "Seven Gates" or seven paths to Bliss, which lead our consciousness to the pure nature of mind, corresponding to the enlightened state of Buddhahood (the platform of the stone). The tabletop follows the shape of the girdle's circumference, but lacks internal facets, as those who have achieved this state already exist in eternity and have the right to choose the time and place of their birth, coming into this world solely out of compassion to help other living beings. I'll also add that the tabletop's diameter is related to the stone's diameter according to the principle of the "golden ratio," reflecting the complete harmony between the Universe itself and the enlightened consciousness that contains it—the pinnacle of our world's evolution.

After encountering this stone, it became clear that faceted stones can be carriers of profound symbolism. Like ancient parables, they can be multilayered and multi-leveled in their content. The first truly fundamental work in this direction was begun in 2009 and finally completed in 2012. This was a collection called "The Philosopher's Stone." It was exhibited at exhibitions in France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Dubai, China, the USA, and, of course, in Thailand. It consists of ten faceted stones, varying in shape and material, each corresponding to a parable that unfolds the symbols of the stones into philosophical concepts. Let's consider them in order.

1. "Reflection of the Great."

On the pavilion, rays emanating from the center intersect with three spiral turns, which also unwind from the center to the edges. On the crown are two six-pointed stars, which, together with the central point, symbolize the potential of the seven levels of the as-yet-unmanifested Universe in its two aspects—spiritual and material. This image reminds us that the great is reflected in the small, the world is reflected in a drop of dew, and a tiny atom replicates the structure of a gigantic stellar system. Looking at the stone, we reflect on the value of every fleeting moment, which forms the unique pattern of Eternity; on the significance of every action, which can have fateful consequences.

2. Drop of Compassion

The stone is shaped like an expanded teardrop, bordered by Golden Ratio spirals on both sides. At the bottom of the stone's crown is a triangle pointing upward, symbolizing the Path leading to eternity—to the center of the stone, the point where the human ego dissolves in great Compassion for all living beings. Rays radiating from this point emphasize the optical perspective. Three arches descend from the top, denoting the three stages through which everyone who chooses the spiritual path must pass: Awakening, Renunciation, and Transfiguration. Awakening to service to the common good, Renunciation of the primacy of the material in the hierarchy of human values, and Transfiguration—the awareness of one's divine nature and oneself as an active, creative force in the Cosmos. This is the path of Christ, the path of Buddha, the path of any great Teacher of humanity. The second stone is very important; I will return to it later.

<Slide> 3. “Сердце Планеты”.

The stone's shape is also unusual—an elongated horizontal oval with pronounced angles at the top and bottom. The quadrangles covering the crown clearly depict a grid of parallels and meridians. On the pavilion, rays radiating outward highlight a star shimmering in the center. This is a symbol of the living heart pulsing within our living planet—powerful and fragile in its vulnerability…

4. Winner

The crown of the stone represents the face of a lion, looking straight at us with its triangular eyes, which reveal superiority over the “Crown of Creation,” who conquers Nature with the power of his mind and is horrified by the results of his “victory”...

5. Touching the Perfection

At the crown of the stone, intersecting lines form the bud of a fabulous flower, and on the pavilion, the facets of the inner tier form a clearly defined lotus with three petals (the three tongues of a single Flame; Father, Mother, and Son—the Trinity of any religion), resting on parallel lines, as if in the serenity of the waters of Life. Within this flower, a star shines with five rays. "Oh, the jewel in the lotus flower!" says the Great Buddhist Mantra, literally translated. The lotus symbol is profound, and it is no coincidence that it appears in the fifth stone—I will also speak of this later.

6. Cognizing Wisdom

The outer contour of this slightly modified triangle evokes the silhouette of Mount Kailash, sacred to Buddhists. On the crown, the triangle, elongated at the top, resembles a Christmas tree, and the rays radiating from the center along the pavilion are divided into segments according to the Golden Ratio, forming the dome of the mosque. The three components of the stone represent three images, three main religions. By uniting these images, the stone seems to say: "No matter which path you take to Wisdom, you will find it on any path, if you are confident in the correctness of your chosen path..."

7. World's Treasure

The stone is shaped like a diamond when viewed from the side, in profile. The crown reproduces the pattern of the diamond's facets. But this is the surface, the visible part. On the pavilion, hidden from the observer's eye, a star shines, as if emphasizing that other, deeper values ​​may be hidden behind the obvious. And one day, a person will have to name their greatest treasure, and a mistake here can be costly.

8. Birth of the Star

The stone is square, with a large platform through which, as if through a wide window, a four-pointed star is visible, surrounded by two tiers of rays radiating from the center to the edges. And one can see how the ends of the star collide with four equally sharp rays, extending toward each other, from the edges to the center. Perhaps this is how worlds are born—expanding and contracting in an eternal pulsation under the influence of unknown cosmic forces.

Great Sacrifice

A triangle containing a circle and a cross within that circle. The cross within the circle of Eternity is not limited to the Christian image of the Crucifixion and represents the unity and struggle of the masculine and feminine, good and evil, Spirit and Matter. The triangle itself, with its apex pointing upward, is also a symbol of the ascent of man, who has undergone the crucifixion of the Spirit on the cross of flesh and made the great sacrifice of his own ego for the good of all living beings.

10. Mystery of the Universe

It's no coincidence that the final stone in the collection is round—a symbol of completeness and perfection. Its crown bears two six-pointed stars, each with its apex pointing upward and downward—the Star of David, also known as the Star of Solomon, the Star of Vishnu, the Six-Winged Seraphim, and so on. This is one of the most ancient and profound symbols: six rays united with a central point create a perfect SEVEN. The outer star represents the Cosmos, the inner star represents man. The diamonds located between them create the illusion of three-dimensional "cubes"—this is the Great Illusion of our existence, the manifestation of Spirit in the world of Matter. A photo of this stone also reveals a third star within the smaller one, formed by the reflections of its facets. Perhaps this is the Mystery of Existence—man reflects the entire Universe. In this, the final stone in the collection is similar to the first—concluding a cycle, but expanding on the theme on a different level.

The arrangement of the stones is not accidental, nor is their shape. Let's look again at all the stones in the collection in order and trace their interrelationship.

1. Space is a single and boundless space, carrying within itself the potential of everything and ready for a new cycle of development.
2. In this space a Drop of Life appears, and the manifestation of the material world begins.
3. A Drop of Life forms into a planet, since without a connection to a planetary body the evolution of organic forms and intelligent beings is impossible.
4. Living beings—animals and humans—are evolving on the planet. The evolutionary spiral has reached its lowest point.
5. Through creativity, man strives to touch perfection.
6. In his quest for perfection, he goes through the stages of attaining Wisdom.
7. Finally, by attaining Wisdom, he gains the Treasure.

Further:

1. A Star is born within a person – he awakens to the spiritual path, turning from living for himself to living for others.
2. Man renounces the dominance of the material in his scale of values.
3. Ultimately, a person realizes their identity with the entire universe, with all that exists. This state is equivalent to Buddhist Enlightenment or the Transfiguration in Christianity.

Seven stones of unconventional shape and three – the sacred ones – are standard. But what lies behind this apparent ordinariness of form? Square-Triangle-Circle: the perfect DAO, the three stages of the Spiritual Path, indicated in the "Drop of Life" stone – Awakening, Renunciation, Transformation. Why were these three stages outlined precisely in the second stone, and why was the deepest symbol of the lotus revealed in the fifth? The first stone is connected with the primordial Space, the Uncaused Cause, resting in peace before the beginning of a new Creation. "And darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God moved upon the waters," says the Bible. And only in the second stone does that seed manifest itself, which carries within it the potential not only for the evolution of life forms, but also for the three stages of spiritual evolution, revealed by the stones of the sacred trinity.

The fifth stone is also a key moment in evolution, when the transition point of the Spirit's descent into Matter is passed and the ascending branch of development unfolds—until the attainment of the Fruit and union with the Cosmos. Thus, the lotus, whose roots are in the muddy mud (symbol of the material world), stretches its flower through the Waters of Life toward the sun—symbol of Fire and Spirit.

Due to lack of time, I will not dwell in detail on the subsequent collections "Elements," "Sacred Symbols," and "On the Summits." I will only note that during the implementation of the last of these projects, I had personal meetings with the heads of three religions – the Dalai Lama, His Holiness Patriarch Kirill, and Pope Francis. Each of them was presented with a stone bearing the symbols of their respective religion. These were complex stones, each containing more than seven hundred facets, and each facet meant something. The "Constellation" collection, consisting of six stones, stands apart; it was created in memory of the deceased American gem cutters whom I consider my friends and teachers: Art Cavan, Charlie Moon, Jeff Ford, Bob Keller, Paul Head, and Stephen Kotlowski. It was presented for the first and only time at an exhibition in Tucson, Arizona, and then donated to the Smithsonian Institution.

In fact, the Smithsonian has already purchased several stones of my work. These included a 640-carat kunzite – the "Lotus," a rare and very large bastnäsite weighing over one hundred carats, and several sapphires from Montana. The following month, I received an official invitation to Washington for a ceremony to include the largest square cushion-cut tsavorite, weighing 116.76 carats, which I faceted by special order, into the Smithsonian's permanent collection.

Now we come to the current project, completed and first publicly presented last October at the GemWorld exhibition in Munich. Work on this project lasted four years. Four years – twelve stones. Each of them is dedicated to a particular country, a particular culture. Each of them contains in the pattern of its facets a composition of images or symbols characteristic of that culture. Initially, I didn't want any particular order, so as not to create even the appearance of prioritizing one culture over another. In this sense, they are all equally significant, just as all the bricks in a wall or all the elements in a mosaic are equally significant. Moreover, it doesn't even matter whether a given culture (or even civilization) exists now or whether only memories and various artifacts remain – both material and spiritual. They are all parts of a single whole, parts of our world history, parts of our Heritage. But – it was necessary to start somewhere. And I started with China.

Strictly speaking, when I was working on the China Stone, the World Heritage project didn't exist yet—neither a name nor even an idea. What did exist was the "Yin-Yang" stone design, created by the brilliant designer and cutter Bob Keller (RIP), a friend of mine from Arizona. His designs are typically simple, understated, and yet beautiful. Two of his most famous designs, the "Bola Spyder" and "Cleopatra's Eye," have long enjoyed a life of their own and continue to inspire many cutters and designers. Bob's Yin-Yang was represented by a corresponding symbol of 32 facets on the crown, accentuated by a simple wedge-shaped pavilion cut.

Back in 2018, I had already developed a concept for artistic cutting using images and symbols to express my vision. I had just completed the "Elements" collection and was creating another collection, "Secret Symbols." Initially, I planned to refine the "Yin-Yang," making it more complex by increasing the number of facets and making the symbol's contours more fluid. But I didn't want to simply repeat the simple wedge-shaped cut on the pavilion, so I added a flower in the center, shimmering through the Yin-Yang symbol, like a Chinese chrysanthemum. Then I added a beautiful mesh pattern around the Yin-Yang on the crown, and... it became clear that a whole composition was emerging, one that went beyond the "Secret Symbols" project.

And yet, I hadn't yet considered World Heritage. My Yin-Yang contained 60 facets—almost twice as many as Bob Keller's design. Then I again thought of the Chinese calendar, which in its full circle also contains 60 elements—12 animals in five colors. I made the same 60 sectors on the pavilion, indicating the years of the calendar cycle with special markings of double facets. These sectors emanated from the center, where the chrysanthemum still shone, symbolizing the flower of the One Life, which blooms beyond time, being the foundation and source of all existence... Then, in the mesh pattern around the Yin-Yang symbol on the crown, I saw the Dragon. And the composition finally took shape. Somehow, the words arose of their own accord, crystallizing the meaning of this composition: "The ever-dormant Dragon of Eternity reveals its dual essence from the Void, forming the Universe." “The One Life shimmers within like a precious flower.”

I didn't yet realize then that the foundation stone had been laid for a new project—a serious and multifaceted one that would become a significant milestone in artistic cutting in general and a significant step for me in particular. Looking ahead, I can say that the complexity of many stones significantly expanded my understanding of the limits of what was possible in cutting, allowed me to refine some techniques already used by masters, and even develop something fundamentally new for the market.

The next step in understanding the idea of ​​"World Heritage" was taken through contemplating the finished stone and analyzing the associations that arose. This was an important moment, and I'll explain why. The truly creative process is what unites the human creator with God, the Creator with a capital "C." It could be said that any creative work, to one degree or another, contains a higher element—what people call Divine Providence. Moreover, the person themselves, overwhelmed by a creative impulse, often doesn't immediately recognize the depth of their creation. It takes time and a certain mindset to better understand the meaning of a work manifested in the collaboration of two creators—both capital and small. This was the case this time. Contemplating the finished stone, tuning into its "wave," helped me see the pattern of its facets not as a collection of disparate images and symbols, but as a complete composition expressing a specific idea. It was precisely this idea from ancient Chinese philosophy that was contained in the words I wrote down and quoted earlier. In other words, the stone contained an important element of China's cultural heritage—one of its philosophical concepts!

That's when the word "heritage" first came to mind. And immediately I became interested in repeating this experience with another country. For some reason, I thought of Japan. The next step in understanding the idea of ​​"World Heritage" was taken through contemplating the finished stone and analyzing the associations that arose. This was an important moment, and I'll explain why. The truly creative process is what unites the human creator with God, the Creator with a capital "C." It could be said that any creative work, to one degree or another, contains a higher element—what people call Divine Providence. Moreover, the person themselves, overwhelmed by a creative impulse, often doesn't immediately recognize the depth of their creation. It takes time and a certain mindset to better understand the meaning of a work manifested in the collaboration of two creators—both capital and small. This was the case this time. Contemplating the finished stone, tuning into its "wave," helped me see the pattern of its facets not as a collection of disparate images and symbols, but as a complete composition expressing a specific idea. It was precisely this idea from ancient Chinese philosophy that was contained in the words I wrote down and quoted earlier. In other words, the stone contained an important element of China's cultural heritage—one of its philosophical concepts!

After the creation of the "Faces of Perfection" stone, dedicated to Japan, it became clear that the concept for a new project had been born. At that time, in 2018, it was given the name "Legacy." Nothing was yet clear – how many stones it would contain, which countries would be included in the collection… It was thought that each stone in the composition of its facets should reflect the most significant part of the cultural heritage of a particular country or civilization. For China – philosophy, for Japan – fidelity to traditions. It immediately came to mind that six years earlier, a stone had been cut and presented to the Dalai Lama, symbolically embodying the image of the Kalachakra Mandala – a jewel of Tibetan Buddhism. And what is more significant in the culture of Tibet than the Buddhist religion, elevated to the rank of science and philosophy? "The great mandala shines in a small stone. A small person comprehends great truths. The insignificant can contain the grandiose, being the beginning, the end, and the very path of evolution."

The idea expressed in the text accompanying the Tibetan stone organically continues the idea of ​​the Japanese stone—the only difference being that in one case, the moment and eternity are related in time, while in the other, they are related in space (the Great in the Small). Of all the stones in the project, even in its finished state, the Tibetan stone is perhaps the most complex in its composition and the most mystical. I won't reveal everything; without a sufficiently deep knowledge of Vajrayana Buddhism, it will be difficult to understand—the entire design description contains four full pages. I will simply say that each facet corresponds to a Deity of the mandala, and thus signifies one aspect of the universe. 722 Deities—722 aspects—722 facets. Their numerical combinations, the order of their arrangement, sometimes even the distances between them—everything is determined and everything has meaning.

Religious traditions were continued in the "Heart and Essence" stone, dedicated to India. Here we again speak of beauty, but in a different aspect – as a great protective potential, shown in the Hindu trinity by the god Vishnu and his female aspect – Lakshmi. "Beauty is both the goal and the means; the Ray of the Middle Path – the Ray of Protection – shines like a treasure in the lotus flower between the rays of Creation and Destruction, like the spirit of the three-tongued Flame, being the heart and essence of our Universe..." Symbolically, the power of Beauty as the quintessence of the Middle Path is expressed precisely by the lotus flower – it is difficult to find anything more beautiful, and it is no coincidence that the Goddess Lakshmi is depicted holding a lotus in her hands. It is the lotus flower with three petals and a twelve-pointed star in the center ("three-tongued flame") that is emphasized on the stone pavilion. "O, jewel in the lotus flower!" – says the great Buddhist mantra in a literal translation. And, as if deciphering this deepest symbol, the Sri Yantra – the queen of all yantras in Hinduism – is depicted on the crown of the stone.

The next stone was directly related to the previous one, although at first glance such a connection is not noticeable. We talked about the path of Preservation, and it is precisely the problem of protecting cultural values ​​that confronts us in the stone "Fragility of the Imperishable," dedicated to France. The reason for its creation was the fire that occurred in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris in 2019. "History teaches how fragile our heritage can be. What was created and preserved for centuries can be destroyed in a matter of hours." The disproportionately large surface of this stone represents a vast window through which the still existing stained-glass rose of the great cathedral is perfectly visible. The stained glass is reproduced with particular care and is formed by 977 facets of the pavilion. Incidentally, a unique technique was used here, which was mentioned earlier and which has not yet been seen in the works of other masters. I'm not talking about undercutting the edges between the polished facets so that they become matte and contrastingly emphasize the pattern of the facets. But the points of intersection of these edges are decorated with tiny, also matte triangles, which, merging, create the impression of smoothed, rounded corners. If the edges are undercut with two or three touches of the polishing disc – so that the shape and thickness of the line can be corrected – then the corner triangles are applied with one touch at the minimum rotation speed of the disc. There is no room for error here.

The number of facets in "The Fragility of the Imperishable" exceeded one thousand, reaching a total of 1,154. As we will see later, the number 1,000+ ceased to be something extraordinary and became the norm for "World Heritage" stones. Incidentally, this collection's name, in its final form, was adopted after the French stone.

Speaking of world cultural heritage, it's impossible not to mention the brilliant masters of the Renaissance – the so-called "universal personalities," the most prominent of whom was Leonardo da Vinci. One stone, created in collaboration with a genius, has already been made – the "Flower of Eternity" from the "Hidden Symbols" collection. This stone was cut according to a drawing by Leonardo and entered the Guinness Book of Records as the most faceted quartz in the world. It contains 978 facets and a very interesting element – ​​a combination of flat, matte facets and rounded, polished spaces between them. Neither before nor after has anything like this been repeated, meaning that this stone is unique in its kind. It is currently in a private collection in America.

But, we've digressed. The next stone from the "World Heritage" collection was made based on a drawing by Filippo Brunelleschi – an architect, engineer, mechanic, mathematician, artist, and jeweler, whom Leonardo da Vinci considered his teacher. Among his works is a drawing of the Santa Maria degli Angeli rotunda, located in his native Florence. The precision and harmony of this drawing are simply astonishing. And this drawing forms the basis of the stone's crown composition. On the pavilion, we see three stars inscribed one within the other. They symbolize the three areas harmoniously combined in the work of the "universal men," the polymaths of the Renaissance era – craftsmanship, science, and art. "When the beauty of artistic images and the precision of geometric constructions merge in great Harmony, they reflect the multifaceted nature of true Genius."

When the collection was complete, it was impossible to ignore the fact that many of the stones were in some way connected to architectural design. We just spoke about Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and the Santa Maria Rotunda in Florence. The next stone continues this tradition and takes us to Spain. The history of Spain is complex; at different times, different cultures have dominated here – mixing, overlapping, and influencing each other. And in the stone dedicated to Spain – it is even called "Crossroads of Civilizations" – two remarkable monuments in two unique cities are combined. These are the Alhambra Palace in Granada, represented by the star-shaped Moorish ornament on the crown of the stone, and the interior view of the Sagrada Familia Cathedral – the creation of the immortal architect Gaudí, depicted on the pavilion. The strict Gothic style is enlivened by a whimsical arabesque, transforming into a vibrant kaleidoscope of highlights and reflections playing in the stone. The ornament of the crown, executed with matte lines on a polished surface, no more than 0.2 mm thick, and continuing one another with amazing precision, makes a particularly strong impression. "Here the West meets the East, creating a unique mosaic of human destinies" – such are the memories of Spain that arise in those who gaze at this stone.

Since we're talking about the Arab East, we can't ignore Persian culture, which takes us deep into the centuries and is by no means limited to the territory of modern Iran. "Arabian Night" presents a small set of four stones dedicated to bygone civilizations. What comes to mind first when we hear about Persia? Of course, the tales of "One Thousand and One Nights" – an immortal literary monument, known and loved throughout the world. 1001 facets of the stone combine to form a strict and technically complex star-shaped ornament of a crown and a whimsical stepped pattern of a pavilion. "How many tales does the Arabian night conceal? What seeds of wisdom glimmer in its depths?" The stone is also remarkable in that it can be viewed not only from above, but also from the side. Then, before us appears the majestic dome of the Mir-i-Arab Madrasah, which adorns the city of Bukhara.

Let's continue our journey into the past. "Since the time of the ancient mysteries, we have been commanded to heed the voice of the heart, which, like a guiding thread, will help us escape the labyrinth of hustle and bustle and problems." "Ariadne's Thread" – that's the name of the stone dedicated to ancient Hellas. On a vast field of 225 squares, like a chessboard, covering the crown, is a Labyrinth, accurately reproduced from an authentic Cretan coin. On the pavilion shines a 12-pointed star, inscribed in a flower with wide petals, symbolizing the wealth and prosperity of Greek civilization. The surrounding meander ornament sounds like an ancient Greek melody. Both the Labyrinth and the meander are also made with thin matte lines, the longest of which are formed by fifteen separate fragments of equal width, merging into one continuous line!

The "Life-Giving Stone" looks very unusual. It reminds us of the time of Pharaoh Akhenaten – the great reformer of ancient Egypt. A widely known stele depicts the pharaoh himself with his wife, the beautiful Nefertiti, and their young son. Above their heads shines the Sun, extending its rays towards them, each ending in a hand, as if conveying something to us. It is this Sun that is depicted on the crown of the stone. Its disc is formed by a very small platform, significantly offset from the center. From this disc emanate rays – thin, matte lines that end in slightly bent hands. But, unlike the Greek Labyrinth, where polished square cells are formed by intersecting horizontal and vertical lines, here the diverging rays intersect four ellipses, the distance between which constantly changes. On the pavilion, we see a square pyramid, composed of individual blocks, also formed by matte lines, the sides of which, when the stone is tilted, stretch into high arches. This symbol of the Sun, ruling over the world and giving life to all living things, has come down to us from ancient times and can be traced in many world religions. But the first attempts at its philosophical understanding can be attributed precisely to ancient Egypt.

The ancient part of the collection concludes with the "Blood and Sand" stone, dedicated to the Roman Empire. Three tiers of arched colonnades, covering the crown of the stone, reproduce the three-story colonnade of the Colosseum, where blood flowed and the sand groaned under the blows of heavy horseshoes and the bare feet of gladiators. It is difficult to imagine places that have witnessed more suffering than the gladiatorial arenas of Rome. And history in those ancient times was not made by government decisions, but by the blood of tens, hundreds of thousands of slaves. The hero of the film "Gladiator" was absolutely right when he said that "The heart of Rome is not the marble of the Senate, but the sand of the Colosseum." If we look at the stone's pavilion, we will see weapons inscribed on its matte facets – swords, spears, and daggers, with which the gladiators of Rome went to their deaths.

The collection concludes with a stone dedicated to Russia – the country where I was born and with which my heart will forever be connected. It is the heart – a symbol of compassion, selflessness, and a willingness to protect and help – that comes to mind when I think of Russian culture. The foundation of this is a deep understanding of the Orthodox faith, bestowed upon us by our ancestors. It is no coincidence that a cross shines above the outline of the heart on the crown of the stone. And it is no coincidence that a drop of blood stands out on this heart – a sign of sacrifice, suffering, and sorrow… “A Great Heart, absorbing the pain of the whole world, when it seems that the whole world has risen against it.” On the pavilion of the stone, we see a nine-pointed star, consisting of three triangles. This is the Star of Ingliya – an ancient symbol of Slavic culture, which is the source of Russian civilization. This is not simply the Christian Trinity, but its three hypostases: the primordial Trinity, the manifested Trinity, and the creative Trinity – three stages of humanity's development on our planet.

Dear friends! Perhaps I've overloaded you with a bit of information, especially deep philosophical concepts. I'll move the conversation to a more practical level by saying a few words about the marketing strategy for these works. Today, the "World Heritage" collection represents the pinnacle of my creativity. And until recently, it seemed there was nowhere further to go. Having roughly estimated how much time I might have left, I limited my offering to just twelve original copies of this collection. This means that if orders for the complete "World Heritage" collection arise, there will be no more than twelve. Four of these twelve collections are already reserved, and negotiations are underway for a fifth. But... Creative energy requires an outlet, and the artist's soul cannot stop moving. Just two weeks ago, the second stone of the next project was completed. This project, even to me, seems incredible, because each stone, despite its apparent elegance, will contain two to three thousand facets. I'll let you in on a secret: you could see the first stone of this project, in two versions (natural and synthetic), here at the exhibition, in a separate display case. And then... We'll see!