Stephen Walker has presented his research on medieval Celtic metalwork at the International Insular Art Conferences in York (2011), Galway (2014), and Glasgow (2017). He is co-author of The Modern History of Celtic Jewellery: 1840-1980 and a contributing author to Islands in a Global Context (Four Courts Press, 2017).
Saint Patrick's Day, the biggest party day of the year for Irish Americans, falls during the somber religious season of Lent. Why then is this the season that cow pies would be used to recreate an ancient Celtic treasure? A goofy question, but there is a real answer.
Gathering some "materials" for the project.
I will be traveling to Ireland this spring to meet with curators at the National Museum in Dublin. The quest relates to an experimental project that will reproduce a lost part from the legendary 12th century Cross of Cong. I have been making Celtic crosses as jewelry for my entire career. Usually I make a special effort to create new cross designs during the Lenten season leading up to Easter. This year I will also copy a very old one. It just happens that the timeline for this project falls during Lent.
The Cross of Cong was commissioned by King Turlough O'Connor as a reliquary for a fragment of the True Cross that was brought to Ireland in 1123 A.D.
The missing panel on the Cross of Cong.
The project was suggested by Dr. Griffin Murray, one of Ireland's leading experts on medieval Celtic metalwork. Murray has devoted many years to the study of the Cross of Cong, resulting in a book which is a complete and definitive report on this Celtic masterpiece. One aspect of the cross which Murray did not delve into in any great detail is the method by which the intricate bronze decorative panels on the cross were cast. I intend to duplicate a panel which is missing from the Cross of Cong, but also do it in a way that demonstrates the original craftsman's method.
My theory is that the intricate panels of open interlaced animal designs were cast in molds made of a mixture of clay and cow dung. It seems kind of yucky and unsanitary to our modern sensibilities, but that mixture is a remarkable material with a long history of use from everything from plastering walls to casting metal.
Stephen Walker studying the Cross of Cong at the National Museum of Ireland, January 2016.
If my effort is successful, after Easter I will make the trip to Ireland to compare my facsimile to the original and have it photographed in place. Then I will make another trip to make a presentation to the International Insular Art Conference, a gathering of Celtic art scholars, archaeologists and museum curators, in Glasgow, Scotland in July 2017.
I really love these old Celtic masterpieces and enjoy the opportunity to work on some of the mysteries about how they were made. The curators and art historians that study these things have been wonderfully supportive of my projects. I have been able to establish something of a reputation at some earlier Insular Art conferences by similar presentations of how artistically challenging Celtic metalwork would have been created.
Replicas of the St. Ninian's Isle Brooches, made in 2011.
In 2011 in York, England, I gave a presentation on the St. Ninian's Isle treasure, 8th century silver brooches found in the Shetland Islands, north of Scotland. Studies of these pieces revealed a long lost method of creating a style of interlace known to archaeologists as kerbschnitt. In 2014 I demonstrated a plausible solution to the problem that had long vexed art historians of how the cylindrical kerbschnitt stem of the 8th century Ardagh Chalice was molded and cast. Both of these presentations involved actually making facsimiles of the ancient pieces.
The Ardagh Chalice.
Griffin Murray was instrumental in helping me arrange to have the chalice, one of Ireland's most precious and iconic treasures, removed from the showcase at the National Museum so that I could examine it under a microscope. Last year I visited the museum for a preliminary examination of the Cross of Cong in preparation for the current project.
Stephen Walker has presented his research on medieval Celtic metalwork at International Insular Art Conferences alongside leading scholars, archaeologists, and museum curators. He is co-author of The Modern History of Celtic Jewellery: 1840-1980 and serves on the advisory panel for the George Bain Collection at Groam House Museum, Scotland.
The Luckenbooth brooch gains its name from the “locked booths” that sold trifles along the Royal Mile near Saint Giles Cathedral in High Street, Edinburgh. In its simplest form it is a single heart shape with an open center that works with a buckle pin like an annular brooch. The heart and crown motifs are part of the same 17th century fashion trends that resulted in the Claddagh ring design in Ireland. Two hearts intertwined; with and without crowns, as well as various abstractions and embellishments give this quite simple type of brooch many delightful forms.

Quite commonly given as a love token or betrothal gift, folklore also invests the Luckenbooth brooch with talismanic value for protection against evil-eye and for nursing mothers to avoid witches stealing their milk or harming their babies. Legend associates the Luckenbooth brooch with Mary Queen of Scots (1542-1587). The form with two hearts and crown can be read as a romantic abstraction of the letter “M” in a royal monogram. Surprisingly, silver Luckenbooth brooches were a popular trade item with American Indians in the 18th century, especially the Iroquois Nations. The design remains a traditional jewelry accessory and is even called “Luckenbooth” by contemporary Native-Americans.

The Luckenbooth brooch has been a self-consciously Scottish form of jewellery since the 19th century. The form was adapted to pebble jewellery in Victorian times, as well as being a regular feature in the ranges of most Scottish manufacturing jewellers who worked for the Highland outfitter and tourist trades.
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