The Metal Object: Devotion in a Two-inch Box
Part 4 of 5: Time Is Running Out
This is the forth part of a series of five chronological posts breaking down the booklet published on the occasion of my exhibition, Time is Running Out. The Metal Object is the shortest of the four essay’s, yet it still holds the most mystery. Similar to the Fox Point Studio, it offered me a moment to collaborate with artist and friend, Rachel Reichert who fabricated not one but two broaches. Obviously meant for Charlotte and Miriam. Made in sterling silver, Reichert intentionally crafted these pieces a bit larger then the original metal object to give them visual weight in the gallery. Placed beautifully on a custom pillow in front of an early portrait of the pair at the entrance to the exhibition the monograms are bait to imagine the women’s intertwined lives before entering the gallery space.
In the image above we see the detail of Reichert’s fine craftsmanship. The broach on the right is flipped over, the pin back follows the arch of the C and M, making the fastener invisible from the front. A beautiful moment that isn’t viewable to a guest in the gallery but felt important to capture and share. This attention to detail is carework in the form of collaboration. I hope this will be the first of many future projects we get to work on together and I feel so grateful to have had the support from Lynden to make this manifest.
The final essay in this series, The Protégé along with the short conclusion in the booklet, is scheduled for next week.
This writing is an expansion of archival research around life partners, Charlotte Partridge and Miriam Frink that resulted my book As Ever, Miriam. The booklet is small and comfortable to hold, Risograph printed by Bearbear on a navy blue cardstock cover that folds out in the back, with yellow interior paper. It was printed in an edition 100, available for purchase in the gallery and as of this week, online [scroll down the page for purchase] until sold out. The exhibition runs through March 14, 2026.
The Metal Object: Devotion in a Two-inch Box
When preparing for my first major research trip, I flagged something in the finding aid for the Charlotte Partridge and Miriam Frink papers that piqued my interest. Unlike the majority of the boxes filled with loose papers and photographs that make up the archive, Box 75 contains two items: a scroll and a metal object.
These objects are housed together in a long, uniquely shaped rectangular archival box.
The scroll, I’ve since learned, is a rotulus that unwinds vertically on wooden dowels that run perpendicular to one another. It is a recognition of Fredrick Layton awarded by Wisconsin Painters in 1916, Aside from taking up the majority of the real estate, it was not of interest to me.
The minimal and mysterious description of the “metal object” had the opposite effect— I was immediately interested. “’M’ (for Miriam) and a ‘C’ (for Charlotte) soldered together, undated.” When I opened the clamshell archival box, tucked next to the scroll, I found a flat 2 x 2-inch custom archival box with a clear window. Inside was a gold-hued—just as the description noted—metal object with the intertwined letters M and C. At first glance, I could tell the metal was something less precious because of the discoloration around the visible solder. Because of the construction of the box, I could also tell there was no pin back, or an obvious function for the object. And that was it. No other information about where it came from, what it was, or why it was saved with their papers.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the materiality of the monogram embodies the couple’s combined lives. Aside from their pictures and letters, this was the one thing I could hold (while encased in its archival box) that represented their partnership. It became so important to me that it is not only embossed in gold foil on the cover of As Ever, Miriam, but is also repeated across the endpapers, enclosing the contents, and is now memorialized on the back cover of this booklet.
For a few years, I searched their archive for notes, clues, or hints about what this metal object was or meant. I used loupes to look closely at photographs to see if it was a mock-up for a piece of jewelry that may have been fabricated later. It could have been part of a larger art project, or a gift from a student learning metalwork. I searched through countless letters, hoping to find a mention of it. I looked for any references to clothing and jewelry within Frink’s and Partridge’s letters. There weren’t many, and what I found was practical conversation around sales and packing for trips. At a certain point, I had to come to terms with the fact that though the answer might still be in their papers, I had to accept the discomfort of not knowing.
It’s possible that someday more information will surface, and the grandchild of the maker will connect the dots of the story and come forward. Or another scholar will find the reference to its origin that I searched for in the papers. Then the narrative I have crafted may fade away, to be replaced by a new one.Until then, the contemporary reproductions inspired by the metal object, fabricated for this exhibition, one each for Charlotte and Miriam, represent devotion found in a two-inch archival box.
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The final post of this series The Protégé along with the short conclusion, will be published on December 23, 2025. Find Part 3: The Sketchbook here, Part 2: The Fox Point Studio here, and Part 1: Introduction here.