Imagine the delight of Tsarina Marie Feodorovna in 1885 when on Easter Sunday, at the end of the Lent fast, she was presented with what appeared to be a simple 2.5 inch-high hen's egg but opened to reveal a golden yolk containing a golden hen sat atop a golden nest. Inside the hen was a replica of the Russian imperial crown, with a small ruby pendant egg dangling from it.
The Hen Egg created by Peter Carl Fabergé at the behest of Romanov Tsar Alexander III, became an annual event. Each year at Easter the Tsar would present his beloved wife with an Imperial Egg. The tradition was followed by his son Nicholas the II for his German wife Tsarina Alexandra, as well as for his mother Marie. Most eggs were far more elaborate than the first one, but they were always very personal. The Danish Palace Egg had watercolour panels inside featuring scenes from Tsarina Marie's home country Denmark, while the Memory of Azov opened to reveal a ship of that name on which their son had embarked on a trip to Asia. The exquisite Lilies of the Valley Egg presented to Alexandra popped open to reveal miniatures of her husband and two daughters. Sometimes they captured the wider sentiment of the time – the Trans-Siberian Railway Egg, containing a miniature of the train and presented to Alexandra in 1900 was the face of a booming economy and its proudest recent achievement. The Steel Military Egg of 1916 stands on four model artillery shells, symbolising the war the country was embroiled in.
So it's perhaps unsurprising that of the 1,55,000 pieces – ranging from cigarette boxes to clocks and vodka bowls – created by Peter Carl Fabergé up until his company was nationalised in 1917, it's the 50 Imperial Easter Eggs that have left us spellbound. There were other jewellery houses producing equally if not more opulent pieces before and after Fabergé, but it was these eggs that came to symbolise something far more – the true possibilities of craftsmanship, ingenuity and thoughtfulness. Fabergé, who had worked at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg as well as training in Germany and France, seemed to draw on the best of all cultures and traditions. It was certainly enough to prompt Russian billionaire Viktor Vekselberg to pay over $90 million pounds for the Forbes family's collection of nine eggs back in 2004, including the most elaborate of them all, the Coronation Egg presented to Alexandra in 1897.
Two years ago, when London-based mining investment firm Pallinghurst Resources re-launched Fabergé with several lines of high-end jewellery, having bought the brand from Unilever back in 2007 for $38 million, like most journalists I asked the question: would eggs soon follow? At the time the company was circumspect about committing to anything. This was a deliberate strategy the company now says, as it launched two series of eggs at an event in London's Somerset House. They're the first since 1917.
After all, the luxurious image of Fabergé had been watered down over the years as all sorts of products from perfumes and ties to a film (the British 1973 comedy A Touch of Class) and even Barbie dolls were churned out in its name, as ownership of the rights to the brand passed from hand to hand. The Fabergé family gave up their rights to the name in 1951 for a paltry 25,000 U.S. dollars.
Pallinghurst Resources wanted to first re-associate the name with exquisite, top of the range jewellery before it took on Fabergé's most famous creations.
Now they're starting with two series of egg pendants. Twelve one-of-a-kind Les Fameux de Fabergé egg pendants have been created, inspired by 12 Russian proverbs. Several were on display at the launch in London, including L'Oeuf Ruban or the Ribbon Egg, an exquisite egg handcrafted from white, pink, and yellow gold based on traditional Uzbek prints, with an elaborate gem-encrusted, ribbon. Equally spectacular is the Diaghilev Egg, coated by diamonds and rubies. When a section of the exterior is pressed the egg opens to reveal a draw set with diamonds at the heart of which is set a diamond and ruby pendant. “Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it,” is the saying that inspired it.
The Faberge creatives first came up with 25 different proverbs they'd like to work with but eventually honed them down to 12 that seemed possible to visualise. They're hoping to extend the range in the future.
For others in the series, it's the technology rather than visual impact that's startling. The Diamond Egg, the collection's most expensive piece, retailing at 600,000 dollars, has 385 diamonds set into platinum – a technological process that required the company to work with several aerospace firms. The diamonds weigh more than the material they're set into.
At least one harks back to the original Imperials. The Cherry Egg – not on display in London – does not look like the old Lilles of the Valley Egg, but Katharina Flohr, the company's Creative and Managing Director says she drew inspiration from it and its ‘wild unruly feel'.
Also launching is the lower priced Les Frissons de Fabergé collection, with around 60 different designs, of which a number of copies have been made, with prices ranging from $3,000 to $30,000. These too are inspired by some of Faberge's original work, including cigarette boxes.
However, in keeping with the Fabergé tradition, the company will also offer a bespoke service where customers can work with the designers. (There are two in house designers and one external designer working with Flohr). While there will of course be limits to the client's input, they'll be able to create special pieces to mark special events and draw inspiration from cultures beyond Russia. After all, Fabergé himself drew inspiration from his travels and time spent honing his skills abroad, they say. The bespoke pieces don't even have to be pendants, giving clients the potential to put them even closer to the original Imperial masterpieces.
The company will be launching all of this on a revamped version of their interactive website, and are also planning boutiques in Paris and London, in addition to the one already in place in Geneva. This too is reminiscent of Fabergé, who had a shop on Bond Street, which he was forced to close in 1915 when Russia forced citizens to repatriate foreign assets for the War effort.
One surprising aspect is that the Fabergé artisans, from enamellers to carvers aren't Russian, but overwhelmingly from France, with some from Switzerland, Germany and Britain. The company insists it is France rather than Russia that is now the home of the finest jewellery artisanship. How well this view will go down in Russia, where Fabergé's craftsmanship is still a matter of great national pride, remains to be seen.
The company has also retained its contact with the family – two descendants, Sarah and Tatiana Fabergé sit on the Fabergé Heritage Council.
All the pieces on display in London were certainly breathtaking, even to Indian eyes, accustomed to intricate and jewel-laden workmanship. The question remains whether they have enough of that wow-factor to capture our imagination in the way those original fifty did.