Welcome to the next iteration of Crafted Stories - a series dedicated to the makers, creatives and minds shaping contemporary jewellery. This edition features Sue Beardman: a practitioner of contemporary jewellery, objects and small sculptures.

Sue has generously shared thoughts from within her established practice and deeper insights into her work ‘Fractured Landscapes – New Pathways’, allowing reflection on the importance of research, community and curiosity - where each piece becomes part of an ongoing dialogue between making, meaning and connection.

Current favourite material or tool
Recent projects have included elements of texturing – so anything within my line of sight that helps with that. Could be emery, files, micromotor attachments, whatever. There’s a lot of testing on scrap.

In this vein, friends have asked whether I’d make their wedding bands. What they are seeking may lend itself to some form of hammered mark making. There’s plenty to experiment with and, thankfully, lead time. Each new process takes time to play, practice and get a feel for.

This will no doubt change again with the next brief or direction. It’s all learning.

Short description of your work style or philosophy
I’m interested in how we connect, cope and exist in the world. Most projects come back to that whether at an individual level, with another, in local communities or more broadly. Each of these levels were at play in ‘Fractured Landscapes – New Pathways’.

At a more visceral level, my practice explores how ideas translate through design, the material palette and the tactile nature of turning these ideas into physical form. I love how pieces transform and become their own through the different stages of conceptualising, designing and making. It’s also interesting to see threads emerge through different pieces and series of work.

Is there a specific tool or material that plays a unique role in this work?
In ‘Fractured Landscapes – New Pathways’ I wanted to reflect aspects of the physical landscape – etched trails, burnt hues, dried sticks, clusters of fungi, trails and corridors weaving and connecting as foundations for regeneration.

In terms of tools, it was the basics. I wanted the chenier to feel worn so filed the smooth surface. Burrs were used on the interweaving corridors to suggest trails. Oxidising gave the hue. Given the diversity in the landscape, it was a matter of selecting and that came back to design preferences. It would be interesting to bring out the reds and variations in scale.

This project was unusual in being a more literal response to a physical environment. The environment is the beautiful, threatened Fitz-Stirlings area in WA’s south west. The words I wrote about the piece speak to childhood memory and to the current work of Bush Heritage Australia.

What part of the process do you find most critical to the outcome?
Time – not always but often. Time spent conceptualising, researching, drawing, modelling. I’ve learnt this through great teachers and mentors. Although a range of study and life experience has led me to this current field, I’m relatively new to it and want to thank the people at Sydney’s buoyant contemporary jewellery and metalsmithing workshops for nudging me from the joy of a ring in a day to the next thing.

Play – most of the time. Play with sketches, models, materials, finishes. And play with words – I write to help distil ideas and inform design development. I’m happy in the thinking and conceptualising space and could stay there. Play helps to move on and opens new possibilities.

Connections – so many but here I’m talking about community. Connections made possible through our studios, workshops, exhibition spaces, JMGA, teachers, makers and enthusiasts. A network of relationships that contributes to meaning.

Have you experimented with new materials, tools or techniques recently? If not, are there any that you've been considering?

I’ve previously used spray paint on metal and have been wanting to try drawing on metal. I’m learning about that process (harder than I’d imagined) and doing tests with texture, paint and pencil. My sister is an exquisite drawer and painter and I’m realising yet again how much embedded knowledge and skill she has, developed through years of practice. She also has incredible observational skills, muscle memory, patience and a light touch – something I’ve always seen and now need to try to channel.

‘Fractured Landscapes – New Pathways’ was selected as a finalist for The Alice Prize 2026 and is on display at Araluen Art Centre, Alice Springs until 8th June.