Seven years ago, when Page Neal and Anna Bario decided to relocate from New York and San Francisco respectively to work on a sustainably-minded line of jewelry, they chose Philadelphia because it was both affordable and close to New York City. “The decision to move here was a complete whim,” Neal told me over iced tea in her kitchen when I visited her South Philly home earlier this summer. “I didn’t know anyone and neither did Anna.” But the gamble paid off: The city, it turned out, had a thriving jewelry district where casting, engraving, and stone-setting workshops have sat above storefronts for generations. “It’s an amazing place for makers because small-scale manufacturing is really accessible,” Neal says. (The city was also a boon for Neal personally: She met a guy, got hitched, and became a mother.)
From the beginning, Bario-Neal was motivated by material activism. “We were interested in finding how we could have a positive effect in the way we made, “ she explains. “We wanted to be stakeholders in new initiatives, and to promote a level of material awareness and activism in the industry that was not, at that time, present. We wanted to be early adopters.” All materials used by the brand are traceable and fairly traded, something the majority of the jewelry industry cannot lay claim to. The approach limits the speed at which they can develop, however: “Every time you introduce a new stone, there is so much more to learn.”
2008’s recession led the pair to step into fine jewelry, and they ended up liking it more than they anticipated. “People care so much more when it’s a fine piece as they’re more invested in the design and the materials.” Have they had any unusual requests? Neal pauses before answering: “Making a ring out of human ashes, and one out of human hair!”
Both designers are creating outside of the brand: Bario is a musician and has been exploring ceramics; and Neal has been studying Integrated Product Design part-time at the University of Pennsylvania. Comparing her two fields, she says, her jewelry practice lends itself more to experimentation: “With furniture it can take a year working on a piece to design all the components. With jewelry you can play a lot without investing too much. I love the accessibility, seeing other people wear it, and how instantaneous it is.”
Bario recently moved from Philadelphia to New York, where she works from a bench at their city showroom; since Neal’s baby was born late last year, she is mostly working from home. “We talk every single day,” says Neal. “I feel like we talk more now that she’s not in Philly!”
Both Bario and Neal like to flex their creativity outside of the realm of jewelry, and this color-dipped mobile, made by Bario in humble toilet tissue, was a gift for Neal’s baby Miles when he was born.
The Bario-Neal Philadelphia workshop employs a handful of jewelers who work on production and commissioned pieces, one of whom made this twisted metal barrette.
In her Industrial Design program, Neal continues to work with metals, albeit on a larger scale. This powder coated blue chair is made of bent sheet steel and sits at the designer’s kitchen table.
Another design from Neal’s course, this one is a watering can made from aluminum and resin: Rather than tipping, it opens from below.
“I love looking at interiors books from the 1970s. I recently got this book from a yard sale,” Neal says.
A collection of mementos picked up on travels. An artist made the bracelet in Nigeria, and the rough knobby ceramic piece is a juju jar from Ghana: “It’s for good vibes!” Neal explains.
“I was a weirdo in my twenties and spent too much money on furniture,” Neal says of her amazing collection of mid-century and modernist pieces. “I’ve been piecing it together over the years.” She picked up this glass and Lucite table at a now defunct thrift store in Philly called New to You: “I used to go all the time!”
Neal’s kitchen is stacked with more pieces picked up from jaunts abroad and an enviable collection of Dansk enameled pans.
A selection of Neal’s plates, these by Terrafirma Ceramics, a New York–based studio that bakes fabric into its glazes.
A vignette in Neal’s bedroom. “I do have a lot of jewelry but I don’t wear too much right now. I felt that I had to wear everything when we first started the brand and it’s actually liberating to not have to wear it.”
Another beauty from the designer’s modernist furniture haul. What attracts Neal to the period? “The simplicity,” she says, “both aesthetically and in the clarity of the manufacturing.”
The apartment is an indoor jungle, with plants creeping round door frames and filling in spare corners.
“I love indoor gardening and I have actually dreamt of living in a huge loft with a greenhouse in the middle.”
Page procured the salt lamp in an appropriate fashion from the hippie mecca of Asheville. “There was a drum circle and I walked in and bought it from a lady who told me it would balance out the negative and positive ions in our environment. I was very pregnant at the time!”
The old-school scales belong to Neal’s husband’s father, a pharmacist.
This picture was a trade for a wedding band, drawn by a client. “She asked me to send her a dream I had had, and she drew it.”
Can you guess what this is? We’re guessing not. When Neal was 24, she had surgery to realign her stomach muscles. The first try did not work, so she had it again and decided to document her form pre-op. “I was so happy I did because after the surgery my doctor told me he had moved my bellybutton, to make it ‘cuter!’ I could see it was really small and he had moved it — it’s now high, off center and tiny!”
Neal’s at-home workstation. To see more of Bario-Neal’s designs, click here, or visit their New York showroom!
A weekly Saturday recap to share with you our favorite links, discoveries, exhibitions, and more from the past seven days. This week was all about next-level workplace decor: colorful benches for happy waiting rooms, amazing ceramics for air-freshening plants, and the coolest Christmas-colored desk we've ever seen.
Introducing the first annual Sight Unseen holiday gift guide! We've been scouring our favorite shops, both here and abroad, and over the next two days we’ll be featuring 25 items per editor. Today's picks come from Jill, whose taste runs more towards all things pretty, colorful, and mid-century.
Like most ceramic artists we know, Julianne Ahn didn’t originally train at the wheel. “I went to school for undergrad in textile design, and then I got an MFA in the Fiber Materials Studies department at SAIC — which is a way more conceptual major,” the Philadelphia-based designer told us when we visited her studio this winter. “I did that on purpose to complement my undergraduate degree, which was about technique and craft-making. Somewhere in the middle, I’ve managed to find a balance between concept and design.”