Reliquary Pendants, Past and Present – Oxford Medieval Studies

By Caroline Croasdaile in conversation with Mickey Alice Kwapis, Contemporary Artist and Jeweller of Meaningful Material

Medieval Material

A small piece of stone, a snippet of fabric, a tiny lock of hair. All of these materials would be just as at home within a hollow late medieval pendant, as in a sentimental locket made weeks ago. What is it about these things, detritus in any other context, that makes them more precious than their gold or jewelled containers? Why have people throughout time collected and enclosed these materials as special, religious, magical, or memorial in containers that they wear close to their bodies?

These are some of the questions that are explored in my D.Phil. dissertation entitled, Wearable Containers of Meaningful Things: English Late Medieval and Early Modern Jewellery to Enclose, Conceal, and Enshrine. It is in this project that I examine artefacts like pendants and rings, and the changes this unique type of object undergoes, particularly in light of the Reformation. While medieval examples of these objects have widely been labelled ‘reliquaries’, the startling variety of their contents includes coins, hair, plant matter, textile, stone, or textual amulets. The diversity of their contents has opened the door for a wider consideration of what exactly is a ‘relic’, and what ‘relic-making’ or memory-making practices medieval people engaged in. Not everyone had access to the body parts or materials of saints in the late medieval period, which were often closely guarded in the treasuries of churches. However, medieval people could draw on the blessings of priests, tokens obtained through pilgrimage, or the ritual of prayer to create or enhance special materials to be worn in aid of devotion or to protect the body. During my research, I was struck by the stark similarities that present-day sentimental jewellery holds with these medieval artefacts. While their contexts of belief may be different, many of the types of materials contained are the same, and are similarly capable of capturing big ideas, world-views, and emotions, within tiny interior spaces.

Pendant containing a drop of blood caught on a tiny piece of tissue paper. By Mickey Alice Kwapis. Photo courtesy of Mickey Alice Kwapis.

The Hockley Pendant, British Museum: 2012,8046.1, English, c.1500-1550, gold, 3x25mm. Portable Antiquities Scheme (PAS): ESS-2C4836. The engravings on this hollow pendant depict devotion to the bleeding wounds of Christ. Its edges are inscribed with the names of the three magi, which were recited or used in magical charms. This pendant was found to contain unprocessed flax stem pieces. It was recovered near Hockley, Essex.

Rights Holder: The British Museum https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/.

Mickey Alice Kwapis: Contemporary Material

Mickey Alice Kwapis is an American artist living in Chicago who specialises in the creation of jewellery, stained glass, taxidermy, and cyanotypes. Her work explores aspects of death, grief, and the natural world. As part of her practice she makes tiny precious lockets, which can be used to contain almost any kind of meaningful material for her clients, who send or provide her with these fragments from their lives. She has kindly agreed to answer some questions I have posed to her in Q&A format regarding her locket pendants. While we cannot query the original makers of medieval objects, her thoughts on her own work provide a useful point of entry for thinking about the enduring and very human act of curating meaningful material, and the desire to carry and wear these things on the body within objects of jewellery.

Q&A:

What first inspired you to begin making pendants that serve as containers for meaningful material(s)?

When I was 22 my Aunt Beth passed away unexpectedly. I had already been making jewellery using glass vessels containing things like squirrel teeth, mouse tails, and dandelion seeds so as the funeral services were wrapping up it just felt natural to grab a few different flowers to dry for eventual use in my work. I ended up making a locket for each of the women in our family so they could have something to hold onto.

Are you interested in, or have you looked to historical examples for inspiration for making this kind of object? If so, do you have a favourite historical piece, period, or influence?

I really enjoy looking at Edwardian and Victorian-era mourning jewellery, mostly containing hair, on eBay. They aren’t hugely historically significant pieces on their own, but each one was handcrafted to celebrate someone’s love, life, or both and I think that’s incredibly beautiful. I grew up Catholic so I’m fascinated by stationary and wearable reliquaries. As a kid I loved learning about the Ancient Egyptians’ mourning and burial rituals including canopic jars. The influence of Egyptian art on the Victorians especially, and now the revival of the Victorian mourning tradition in modern times, follow a thread through human history of wanting to remember those we have lost through preserving them in some tangible way.

What are some of the materials, common or unusual, that people have sent you to be included in pendants?

Most commonly I receive orders for memorial jewellery made with cremated remains, pet hair, and human hair — after all, they’re literally parts of our loved ones so they are obvious choices when it comes to honouring their lives. Some of the less traditional materials I have gotten to use in mourning lockets include broken Fiestaware, a drop of blood on tissue, dyed eggshells from Easter eggs, the bristles of a paintbrush, pottery glaze powder, and a plethora of other incredible materials truly unique to those being remembered. I have helped women celebrate their friendship with a matching set of lockets with sugar from their favourite diner, made pieces for brides containing pieces of their bouquets and lost sequins from their dresses, and honoured hardships with soil reliquaries from sold family homes and pieces of brick from a house fire. Getting to make each one is an honour beyond words.

What are the key steps that go into crafting these lockets, and what are some challenges that this medium presents? What skills as an artist do you draw on?

The hardware for each locket is made using the lost wax casting process and once finished, the materials are secured beneath precision-fit watch crystals that I had specially manufactured to fit my lockets. I took my first metalsmithing class at 14 and have just been building on that skill set ever since so it feels like second nature at this point. When it comes to handling each client’s materials, some require special PPE — especially powdered materials like pigments.

Do you have a memorable or surprising background story or narrative that someone has shared with you about why they have chosen a certain material for inclusion in a locket?

I love the stories behind every single request I get, because the stories are just as personal as the materials being used. Many of them are bittersweet so I’ll share one that’s not: I received an order for a locket containing sand, for an Egyptologist who had recently returned from an archaeological dig. She didn’t bring the sand home on purpose (as it’s highly frowned upon to take materials from dig sites) but it’s impossible to live in a tent in the desert for weeks at a time and not track at least a little bit of sand everywhere you go. Once she was back home in the US, she found sand inside the lining of her suitcase while unpacking and decided to send it my way.

Have you made lockets for your personal use and ownership, and are you comfortable sharing what these are and what they mean to you?

The first ones I made were in memory of my Aunt Beth, with flowers from her funeral. After my Great-Grandma Mickey passed in 2020 I made myself a locket containing soil and sand from three different places on Belle Isle, an island park in Detroit where we spent lots of time in our respective formative years as well as time together. Not too long after, I dropped a mug that had belonged to my Uncle John, who died by suicide but is still listed as a missing person — there was no funeral, no body to say goodbye to. I had the mug repaired using traditional kintsugi practices but the artist did not need the smallest shards of ceramic that broke off and I couldn’t bear to throw them away so I kept them and made a locket with that. I also have lockets containing a fossil my mom found on the beach, and one with a tiny gummy bear that reminds me of my dad, fishing flies and raw sapphires from a trip to Montana I took with a friend. My beloved cat Phil just passed away and I plan to make a locket with his soft orange fur under one lens and his white fur under the other. When you see me in public, I make jingling noises from my jewellery. I’m basically a walking advertisement for my work at this point.

The lockets that you produce are visually accessible, but intended to remain sealed. This is in contrast to the other forms of lockets both contemporary and historical. What led to this choice?

Many modern jewellery makers utilize epoxy resin to contain materials like hair or ash, but it is a relatively new technology. This material can begin to yellow quite quickly and it also permanently alters the sentimental material, making it unrecoverable. My lockets, through sealed closed, function as containers for the free-moving materials inside and in theory could be smashed or cut open to recover the materials should the owner ever wish to do something else with them.

Ash and tooth in sterling silver. By Mickey Alice Kwapis. Photo Courtesy of Mickey Alice Kwapis

How do you understand the role of memory and its connection to material in your work?

Our memories of the past are a big part of what informs who we become in the present day, and the people or things we have lost or experienced along the way are also part of us. Having a piece of memorial jewelry that can be worn day-to-day helps remove our lost memories from the abstract and brings them into the present in a tangible form.

Hundreds of years from now if an archaeologist, museum, or curious collector were to find one of your lockets what is something you would want to tell them about your work to help them understand it?

Humans across millennia have collected and saved sentimental things, and I would hope that centuries or millennia from now we are not so disconnected from each other and ourselves that we can’t recognize the merit of a sentimental object. I think if anyone knew the back story of any single one of my pieces, from the history of the material itself to its meaning and impact on the person who commissioned it, the archaeologist would have the same feeling that I get making my work and looking at it now. After all, memory is something that ties all of us together.

Agnus Dei Pendant, English, c.1400-1540, gilt silver, PAS: GLO-43B24A. This pendant was found to contain, ‘fragments of a woven fabric’ and ‘thick layers of fine white strands that are most likely hair’. There is evidence for a broken-off attachment loop on the upper edge. Recovered in Gloucestershire. Rights Holder: Bristol City Council, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/.

Links to the website and work of Mickey Alice Kwapis:

https://www.mickeyalicekwapis.com/about

https://www.instagram.com/kwapkwapkwap

Croasdaile, Caroline, 2025, Wearable Containers of Meaningful Things: English Late Medieval and Early Modern Jewellery to Enclose, Conceal, and Enshrine, Oxford: University of Oxford (D.Phil. Thesis, forthcoming)