Theresa St. Romain is a metalsmith and designer. She makes jewelry, wearable narrative pieces, and small sculptures. Currently, cellular structures, small botanicals, visual tension, spirals, and journey stories fascinate her.
Theresa’s work can be seen at Topaz Gallery in Atlanta, GA, Freehand Gallery in Los Angeles, CA, The Grand Hand Gallery in St. Paul MN, and be.gallery in Chagrin Falls, OH. Theresa also teaches jewelry and metalsmithing classes at the Spruill Center for the Arts in Atlanta.
Theresa has a BS in Science, Technology, and Culture from Georgia Tech and a BS in Criminal Justice from Georgia State University. She studied metalsmithing at the Spruill Center for the Arts and the Pratt Arts Center in Seattle. Her interests in science and story continue to inform her work.
Theresa lives near Atlanta, but not too near.
With my recent work, I’ve been exploring my ideas about journey stories and fairy tales.
Using handmade shibuichi, silver, bronze, brass, copper, found steel objects, and a variety of stone beads, I create my stories with landscapes, typographies, and populations; plants and signs; skyscapes and interior spaces. These rough-hewn and organic sculptural pieces are meant to embody our basic need of stories to interpret and make sense of our world.
I make the shibuichi (a Japanese alloy of copper and silver) myself because I enjoy the process. I roll it to get sheets with personality -– edge breaks and crackle -– and when I use the torch on it during fabrication, I create the surface reticulation, both a visual and tactile texture for the wearer to experience and a topography for my stories.
I find many of my steel parts out in the world, discarded or abandoned, weathered and road-textured. They have had their own journey to get to that particular place for me to pick up and put in my pocket. I repurpose them and bring them into my stories.
I use the beads and other metals like bronze and brass as points, blooms, signs, highlights, and destinations, bits of color on my dark patinas.
The silver spirals are meant as respites for the brain, interludes from all the stories, moments of contemplative listening, and points of focus. Their calm smooth curves carry the eyes and fingers around and in and around and out, movement for its own sake, clean and pure.
When I make spirals, I think of them as the home state for my mind, as if I were resetting myself and then can begin again on a new story.