Signs of power: the evolution of men's rings, bracelets, necklaces
An amulet, a seal, a noble fibula. But also a grillz or an illuminated self-portrait. Men's jewellery travels across centuries, techniques and materials.
by Alba Cappellieri*.
4' min read
4' min read
Since the origins of civilisation, ornaments were intended for both the male and female body. The first jewellery, made from teeth, shells and bones, had an apotropaic value, warding off evil and defending the wearer. In the Egyptian world, the function was refined, between aesthetics and symbol. The pharaohs' jewellery was an instrument of transition and protection in the afterlife. Carnelian, lapis lazuli, turquoise and gold made up complex amulets, where each gemstone had a precise meaning and each image - from the scarab to the solar hieroglyph - helped to ensure the transition from earthly life to the afterlife. Between the 4th and 3rd millennium B.C., the Sumerians introduced the cylindrical seal into the history of male jewellery: wearing it was tantamount to certifying one's presence, authority and role in the community. Engraved with complex motifs - mythical animals, ritual scenes, symbols of power - it was pressed into clay to authenticate documents, sanctioning one of the first forms of public recognition through adornment. Men's jewellery is also mentioned in the Bible, citing 'men with a ring of gold, beautifully dressed' (James 2:2). In the ancient Greek and Roman world, male jewellery was given a political significance. Fibulae, from being accessories for securing clothing, became instruments of social distinction. Prominent figures, such as the emperor and senators, sported them in precious metals: the quality of the material and the elaboration were indicators of the social rank and economic strength of the wearer.
During the Middle Ages, suntuary laws, widespread in Europe since the 13th century, sought to curb the ostentation of wealth by imposing strict limits: for example, a man could not wear more than three rings on each hand. These limits were exceeded during the Renaissance, one of the most flourishing periods for men's jewellery, both in terms of variety and quality. The portrait of Julius II painted by Raphael depicts the pontiff seated on a throne with his hands adorned with no less than six rings set with enormous gems, reaffirming the supremacy of his office.
From spiritual to temporal power, in Hans Holbein the Younger's portrait of Henry VIII, gold chains, jewelled brooches and many rings make up a kind of symbolic armour testifying to the dynastic will and absolute power of the English ruler. However, the Renaissance also knows more intimate forms of adornment. In the Portrait of a Pilgrim (1542, Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, Milan), the shell pinned to the robe identifies the subject as a wayfarer. A simple element, born of religious practice, is transformed into a kind of jewel of spiritual identity.
In the 17th century, the whole body and every detail of clothing is adorned. Louis XIV, the Sun King, in the portrait by Henri Testelin (1648), is an example of this: even his shoe buckles, embellished with diamonds, become jewellery. Or even the portrait of the Duke of Buckingham by Michiel Jansz van Miereveld (1625-1626), which introduces pearl necklaces for men, until then reserved for noblewomen. At the same time, the goldsmith's art developed. The miniature set in precious mounts inaugurated a new season of male jewellery, in which one's own portrait merged with craftsmanship. With the new codes of post-revolutionary society, Napoleon Bonaparte not only bought extraordinary pieces for his consorts and his sister Pauline, but also collected jewellery for himself. In Jacques-Louis David's painting, The Emperor Napoleon in His Study at the Tuileries (1812), alongside the usual symbols, there are honours, medals, brooches, decorations in precious metals and stones.
With the rise of the bourgeoisie in the 19th century, male adornment became more discreet: a few functional accessories with an understated aesthetic. At the beginning of the 20th century, Bhupinder Singh, Maharaja of Patiala, entrusted his diamonds, emeralds and rubies - among the largest and most precious in the world - to Cartier and Van Cleef & Arpels, who set them in jewellery. During the Belle Époque, jewellery was still a vehicle for self-celebration and dandy aestheticism. Mario Buccellati established an intense bond with Gabriele d'Annunzio to the point of entrusting him with the creation of precious objects. Later, during the 20th century, men's jewellery returned to a more functional and pragmatic vision, where discreet accessories such as wristwatches, cufflinks and tie clips survived, before finding new avenues of expression through urban cultures. In the 1970s, the punk movement rehabilitated the ring, the chain, the safety pin, turning them into symbols of rebellion against the bourgeois order. In the world of rock, Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones made the jewel an integral part of a personal identity free from conventions, and in the United States the hip hop of the 1980s and 1990s developed an opulent visual language: rappers with massive gold chains, oversized rings and grillz imposed themselves as symbols of social affirmation, immortalised in Jamel Shabazz's shots and celebrated by groups such as Run Dmc. The cinema consolidates this imagery: Scarface (1983) by Brian De Palma sculpts the association between power, luxury and male adornment. Fashion and art influence the taste of the time: Gianni Versace celebrates male physicality with necklaces, medals and gold bracelets; Jean Paul Gaultier plays with chains and jewellery; artists like David Bowie and Prince build their stage identity not only on outfits, but also on jewellery.
