MOLDING PRESENCE IN STONE AND METAL
project by Elina Lans-Timofeev
I think, through my practice, I am exploring the concept of overcoming fear, selfhood, humility, vulnerability, resilience, the art of being present, and the power of rituals.
You know how I came to work with precious materials—through inheriting my great-grandmother’s jewelry tools and battling breast cancer. Alongside my jewelry education, I am largely self-taught.
I am finding myself and my roots in jewelry making. Working with metal and gemstones, I often try to see what the material wants to become, without making prior sketches or having concepts about what the piece should be. It’s quite a Buddhist approach—having no expectations about what the final object will become. It is very meditative, actually.
ELÍNA LANS-TIMOFEEV
Amsterdam, Holland
IMG credit: Bart Lans
When I sketch, I find myself influenced by artists, contemporary dance, architecture, and literature. I see natural forms, minimalism, aesthetic purity, and basic geometric shapes.
I see jewelry as meaningful and intimate—a love language of gifting, or a ritual: something that reminds you to be present—to stop for a moment, touch the piece of metal or gemstone, and reflect on it.
When I am commissioned by someone, I am engaged in a beautiful and intimate ritual of recording a moment of people’s lives—documenting their emotions in precious metals and gems.
And, of course, I want to bring awareness to the importance of humility through craftsmanship. I also aim to bring awareness and visibility to the communities engaged in every stage of jewelry making: miners, lapidaries, and jewelers—and their quality of life.
THERE ARE SEVERAL CORE SUBJECTS I HAVE BEEN WORKING WITH LATELY, ALONG WITH VISUAL REFERENCES
SPHERE SERVING AS A MIRROR, REFLECTING AND TRANSFORMING THE WORLD AROUND YOU.
A tulip doesn’t have deep roots, but it still blooms beautifully—just like those of us who have moved, willingly or by force, and started over, or built new lives and chosen families along the way. Even when we don’t have deep roots, I dedicate this flower to those who will always find their way to flourish.
We have woven the tulips into this precious diadem: the tulip reemerging after a cold winter is a symbol of rebirth, youth, and hope. In pagan tradition, a flower wreath is a protective charm. It was believed that flowers, herbs, and leaves woven into a headpiece possessed magical properties.
COLOR BLACK: GRACEFUL AND SCULPTURAL, PROMOTING BALANCE, PURITY, AND INNER PEACE.
Shells - our talisman of interconnectedness and creativity.
I had this intention to create a gift that you carry with you - like a token - as a reminder to be more aware, a simple object to serve as a reminder every time you see it you'll remember that it's time to be still for a short while, slow down the pace and be present
Moons. Of all the planets, it is the moon that is the most powerful and magical. It rules our lives with the tides and times, defining the seasons and the calendar. Also, a nod to Brâncuși’s birds.
PART II.
EVERY BEND, EVERY CUT, EVERY WHISPER
Text by Elina Poliakova. Fvtvrist
As a kid, I was scared of everything green. Grass, trees—I didn’t care much for either.
Instead, I was obsessed with rocks, stones, minerals—anything I could find in my childhood’s big-ish city surroundings or hidden in my mother’s jewelry box. Summers were marked by riverbank explorations and “gem” hunts at my grandparents’ home. The game was simple: who could find the smoothest, the roundest, the warmest river rock? That was the winner.
Something about the soft resistance of its porous surface, the monolithic presence in my palm, the faint scent of river silt, and—above all—the shape. Those shapes made them absolutely and undeniably precious. The sculptural nature of the world—of cities, of bodies—forms fluid yet flawless in their living, infallible improvisation.
Wassily Kandinsky saw form not just as an outward expression but as a vessel of inner meaning. In his Concerning the Spiritual in Art (1910), he argued that each form carries an intrinsic essence, affecting the viewer beyond mere representation. To him, Forma was an extension, the voice of inner necessity—spirituality given pulpability, given weight.
Simpler meant purer. Purer meant closer to perfection.
Encountering Elina’s work for the first time, this is what strikes us—simplicity, its quiet force, its loud potential. A simplicity born from the search for perfection, from long explorations, from a longing for something we cannot quite grasp but can sense, can smell in the presence of her objects.
Wearable, tiny sculptures with ethically sourced gemstones—shapes that embrace the human body. The hunt for perfection, the love for timeless, meaningful materials, and the essence of each stone are woven into the very fabric of each creation nestling into hollows, wrapping around knuckles, curling into the snail-shell curves of our ears.
Elina Lans’ journey has been anything but conventional. From studying Japanese in Osaka to practicing law in Amsterdam, she navigated different worlds before finding her true calling. A breast cancer diagnosis at 26 became a turning point, pushing her to explore jewelry-making—a craft deeply rooted in her family history. While working at a law firm, she took courses at Central Saint Martins and trained in jewelry techniques, eventually launching her own mindful and sustainable brand, ELÍNALANS. Each piece she creates reflects her passion for craftsmanship, storytelling, and intentional living.
The need and configuration of Elina’s artistic soul—her relentless, impassioned life—are imprinted in each piece. She celebrates it—its physicality, its meanings, its fullness, and manifestations—etched into every crack, every bend, every way light meets the edges of her work.
And we become part of that celebration, sometimes as viewers, sometimes as participants—slipping into her world, slipping on one of those tiny, sculptural pieces.
FIN