Sheikh's personal jeweler
Artist Asya Eutykh makes weapons for Arab sheikhs and exclusive jewelry for monarchs. Her works are in private collections of Elton John and Vladimir Putin. And the Jordanian prince Ali bin Hussein appointed her as his personal fashion designer.
Artist Asya Eutykh makes weapons for Arab sheikhs and exclusive jewelry for monarchs. And the Jordanian prince Ali bin Hussein appointed her as his personal fashion designer.
Long before my birth, my grandmother, the heiress of the princely family, predicted to her son, candidate of economic sciences, and his wife, a doctor: “You will be the parents of an unusually talented girl.” And she gave me a name in advance. Neither father nor mother believed or understood why the grandmother distinguished their daughter and singled out nine other grandchildren.
Yes, she “saw” my fame, but did not say a word about what exactly would make our surname famous. My grandfather, they say, was a jeweler-gunsmith and lover of windmills - he was occupied by their design. Grandmother is a famous storyteller in Adygea. We were visited by writers, local historians, spent hours sitting near her with microphones, listening to the Nart epic. Grandmother sang his recitative, extremely similar to modern rap.
She carefully handed me everything that she herself owned: the ability to sew, weave, and embroider in gold. And also, elements of household magic - fortune telling on beans, weather prediction and even the secrets of making gunpowder. Thanks to my grandmother at the age of seven, I kept excellently in the saddle. But only the peers at school seemed a medieval miracle, a loner. I understood early that the most interesting friends were books, I dragged them in my briefcase, read them at lessons, at breaks. And she painted all the time.
One day, dad took me with a sketchbook to the mountains near Maykop. Having made a sketch, I drew attention to the rock behind me. A creamy sandstone was easily scratched with a knife (I always carried it with me). I didn’t notice how the day flew by - I cut out a girl looking out the window from the house with an arch and columns. And when she went down, her breath caught in her breath - a fresh cave drawing looked like real antiquity. And dad was shocked. After that, he began to take seriously my desire to redo everything around. Many years later, my father, sitting by the pool in my yard today, said: “Wow! You really fulfilled everything you dreamed of as a child, but I thought naive fantasies. How could she have foreseen this? ”
I chose the profession in the first years of the art and graphic department of the Karachay-Cherkess Pedagogical Institute, and I began to make silver jewelry and daggers after meeting the legendary Dagestan master Kurbanali Magomedov. In Dagestan, I learned filigree, but I had to master the toreutics, which is considered in Adygea as the “dead” craft of the Scythians, independently. I turned the old tools remaining from my grandfather in my hands, I read books, I searched for what I needed with trial and error. My interest "grew stronger" - from the late Middle Ages passed to the early, from antiquity - to the Scythians.
When I first melted the metal myself and made a filigree ball strewn with grain, I realized that I had found something that I would never get tired of doing. Created her first workshop. As for technology, I got to all the secrets already with my husband, Ruslan Turkayev, studying archaeological ceramics, toreutics, jewelry and many more different antiquities that are magically attracted to our house. He became the repository of a huge number of books, tools, vessels, man-made chains, mills and even mammoth bones. Do you find this funny? And I always wanted to have just such a house ...
How did you meet the prince of Jordan? I am sure he did not know about the existence of the Republic of Adygea, until one of the foreign guests left a Russian magazine with photos of my daggers in his palace. Fluke. Within a couple of months by phone I received an order for the manufacture of weapons for the personal protection of the royal person, and later for the creation of the princess’s wedding dress. And finally, on the family porcelain dinner service. Excuses: "Yes, I do not sew!" and “The gunsmiths do not make dishes,” they did not accept. It turns out that I owe my universality to Ali bin Hussein, and my youngest son - Bybars - to the royal name. My husband Ruslan and I jokingly call the boy "Jordanian smuggling." She wore it under her heart in the months of work on the prince's order. So he went with us across the border back and forth.
We made great friends with Ali bin Hussein, his wife. She was delighted with her wedding attire - I found 300 of the finest leaves of gold and silver on it, twisted about a meter of shoulder chains with links in the form of lion heads. And the prince liked my signature lions so much that he made the same tattoo on his shoulder.
In my products there is not a single random curl or symbol, everything means something. Often jokes are hidden in the drawings and the god of time is always present, but I never reveal everything based on the principle of “the speaker does not know, the speaker does not speak.” When the work comes to an end and begins to live its own life, you understand that the brilliance of the metal is all the same - a year is reflected in it or a thousand years ...
Often I recall to my grandmother the saying, "What your eyes saw is the price of your head." I traveled a lot, studied, traveled again. I saw so many museums, monuments of architecture and history that she would have been pleased with me. But still, more than anything else, I love my native mountains. Inhale the aromas of herbs, look at the sky, feel the wind of the peaks and try to catch that line, when the breath turns into an exhale, the future becomes the past. In the mountains, I learned not to be afraid of anything, I found my "I", as the monks find it, becoming hermits. For me, unity with nature is awareness of harmony. As a child, I remembered the words of Leonardo da Vinci that the main teacher is nature. Indeed it is!
A few years ago, high in the Adyghe gorges, my mother and I planted our park. The sketches of Countess Uvarova recreated the landscape of the 19th century. Old pears grew in the mountains, we added new trees. Our park occupies 5 hectares. And this is a fairy tale!