Somers Randolph is not a jewelry designer, he's a sculptor. Known for his larger pieces, Somers has also spent 30 years carving in miniature. When his wife Hillary discovered a virtual treasure trove of these tiny soapstone sculptures, she was inspired. They have transformed the miniature sculptures into silver and gold, creating the SOMERS collection. Somers says that he is one of those few lucky people in this world who are blessed to spend their working lives doing exactly what they want to do.


Nancy Pendant
Friction clasp.
From Somers Classic series.
Measures 1-3/4" high x 3/4" wide.
Double strand 18" Tobacco colored leather cord.
$290

Each piece of Somers Jewelry begins its life as a soapstone sculpture, hand-carved by Somers Randolph. To keep the integrity of the original soapstone, each piece is cast using the technique of lost-wax casting and a five-step finishing process.


Susan Pendant
Sterling silver hook and eye clasp.
From the Somers Geometric series.
Measures 1-1/2" high x 1-1/2" wide.
16" five strand Ruby colored leather cord.
$350


Reeve Pendant
From the Somers Classic series.
18" black silk cord with friction clasp.
Measures 1" high x 1" wide x 3/4" deep.

Artist Statement

I learned to whittle from my great uncle Alfred Adams, a Superior Court judge in Nashville, Tennessee. He spent many hours whittling cedar sticks, trying to create the perfect curl of wood with each stroke. The price of a consult with that wise man when I was six or eight years old was to possess a pocketknife that would shave his arm.

My affinity for sculpture was discovered later, emerging as a logical escape from the standard pressures of a New England prep school's academic demands. Cabot Lyford was the first sculptor I ever met. His style of teaching involved a lot of doing. We were welding, casting bronze, and carving wood and stone in just two semesters of school. After a year of artistic exploration, which included attendance at the Corcoran School of Art and an apprenticeship in a marble yard in Pietrasanta, Italy, I attended Princeton.

Princeton is stubbornly academic, recognizing the study of, but not the creation of art as a worthwhile pursuit. I majored in Art History and mounted a sculpture show as a senior thesis in order to graduate. I am grateful to that institution for exposure to and friendship with some wonderful artists that chose to visit as professors from New York City.

From New Jersey, the logical move was to the West Coast, and I spent the next dozen or so years in Santa Barbara, California. In 1979, I visited a bronze pour at the local community college and was greeted by the instructor, an energetic fellow who introduced himself as Paul Lindhard, and asked me my name.

I told him and, without pause, he asked, "Somers, what do you do?" I said that I was going to be a sculptor. This fellow grabbed my shirt with intense enthusiasm and said, "Somers, you either are a sculptor, or you're not." Without hesitation, I replied to Paul, "Well then, I am a sculptor."

I taught at that college with Paul for the next several years, until I could support myself with sales of my own sculpture. I lived in warehouses and home-built studios with corrugated fiberglass roofs. The microwave oven on top of the refrigerator was the kitchen, and stone dust coated everything.

By 1990 it was time for a move, and so I loaded 14 tons of tools, stone, and possessions and headed to Nashville, Tennessee, for an encounter with my heritage. I threw in all my savings on a burned out warehouse in downtown Nashville, renovated it, and opened Blue Sky Court, the first coffeehouse in Nashville. While I was carving upstairs, we had live music six nights a week and a new art show every two weeks for over two years.

In 1996, I quit carving and began a romance with an anvil and scrap metal that lasted through my move to Santa Fe, New Mexico, in 1997. That morphed into silversmithing in 1998, and persists to some extent today. I returned to carving stone in 1999, and am now doing some large marble pieces, and some soapstone whittling to keep my lovely wife in jewelry designs.

Yes, there's a wife, Hillary. She's the business-minded of the two of us. She figured out how to market my thousand or so soapstone whittles as silver and gold jewelry. She also was kind enough to create a daughter, Comfort Avery Randolph, who at 3 years old has already participated in her first art show on Canyon Road in Santa Fe.

While I carve, I have lots of time to ponder. I think about everything from religion, to what will be the same in a hundred years, to how to answer my 3-year-old's query, "Daddy, where is the speed limit?"

And I reflect, very often, on how fortunate I am to have been gifted with the ability to create objects that other people want.