An artist for only 10 years, metalsmith Kristen Alexandra Milano has already been in many juried shows, including Crafts at the Castle in her hometown of Boston and the Smithsonian Craft Show. The 32-year-old calls her one-of-a-kind flatware and jewelry, the “non-jewelry-wearers jewelry,” and feels fortunate to have been chosen to exhibit in the prestigious Smithsonian show. “Just being at the show was prize enough for me,” she says. “The work was jaw-dropping. I learned a lot just being there. For example, there was someone next to me who crocheted metal.” And at a time when the economy has had a negative impact on show attendance, Milano notes that this show was an exception. “It was an educated crowd, too,” she says. “They handled pieces respectfully and made thought-provoking comments about the work.”
	Detail of Milano’s Leaf necklace.

Love of Cooking Led to Flatware

Milano’s inspiration for her metalwork began with her love of cooking. “I needed to figure out how to combine the two interests,” she says, “and how to market what I love.” After graduating from Syracuse University in 1993, Milano worked as an apprentice to a Boston jeweler where she found the experience was invaluable. Her employer was very generous with his time, showing her the ins and outs of the craft, as well as the marketing and selling of jewelry.

While combining her apprenticeship with work as a waitress to make ends meet, Milano discovered another interest — the presentation of food. “I worked at some fancy places, and always enjoyed watching the chef compose a plate,” she explains. “As I cooked on my own, I’d try to put it on a nice plate — and I thought, ‘why not make it even nicer with one-of-a-kind flatware?’”

Many of Milano’s inspirations also come from nature. “I love living in New England and getting outside because of the changing seasons. My images change along with them. In fall, I work with more browns, creating twigs or dry, decomposing images. In spring, I’ll do more blooming things.” During the winter, Milano fuels her vision with visits to the library and looks at photos, focusing on the shape of natural objects.

In addition to her flatware and jewelry, Milano has a line of whimsical pieces she calls “Diet Servers: Decorative & Dysfunctional.” There’s the “I’ll Only Have One Slice Server,” a utensil so flat and beautiful you can’t pick anything up with it. She says making the diet servers is “kind of painful” because she must fashion an entire piece and then cut it up. “I started it as a joke,” she says. “Also, people always ask me ‘Is your work just decorative, or functional?’ From that I got the idea of ‘dysfunctional.’”

She adds, “I want to do a series of ‘Expression Servers’ that are based on literary puns — you know, like the ‘Humble Pie Server.’”

The Nuts and Bolts of Metal Work

To be a metalsmith, you have to be part alchemist, part machinist. There’s the process of annealing, where you heat metal that’s become hard through hammering, twisting or rolling in order to soften it. Milano says you need to know when you’ve made the metal too brittle from all your shaping of it, and also when to stop heating it. That’s the alchemy part.

Looking around her studio, you see an assortment of hammers and mallets, cutting tools, like hacksaws and piercing saws, tongs, blow torches and tiny burrs about the size of a dentist’s drill. Milano uses these tools to make necklaces that look like the tiny, delicate buds on a spring tree, spoons in the shape of flowers, and a wedding tree sculpture with brass and silver leaves that you can remove from the base and have engraved.

Once she gets an inspiration from a shape, Milano sketches it out, trying to imagine it on a body or in a hand. Many people who work in non-ferrous metals (brass, copper and sterling silver), will first cast in wax. Milano, however, often goes right to the metal. For a utensil, she’ll take flat, square stock and grind, file and hammer the piece into an object. She says the process is a little like handbuilding in pottery.

A downside to working among metalsmiths is that they tend to be an older crowd. Milano is always excited when she can connect with artists of her generation at shows. During slow times or when setting up or breaking down, it’s helpful to talk with others and share information. “I think we can all learn something from each other,” she observes.

A spaghetti server from Milano’s flatware collection.	A twig necklace.

Her Work Sells Around the Country

Milano sells her work in a number of galleries nation-wide, as well as at 15 retail shows and one wholesale show a year. When she does a retail show, gallery owners also visit and place orders, or if they can’t sell her work in their shops, they will pass her name on to others. With representation by both fine arts and fine crafts retailers, she’s gone from making 20 percent of her income from her art to 100 percent.

To keep the creative and business fires burning, Milano attends seminars and workshops throughout the year. She also reads trade journals. “I was once attending a seminar and the speaker couldn’t speak highly enough of the The Crafts Report,” she says. “I’ve been reading it ever since. And it has been a wonderful resource — my bible for the last nine years.”

After successfully sidestepping and capitalizing on the issue of function in her work, Milano’s latest dilemma is whether to restrict herself to just flatware or jewelry? Those fortunate enough to know her work just hope she doesn’t decide too soon.

Audrey Borus is a free-lance writer who lives and works in Massachusetts.