Authors: Madeleine Albright

Read My Pins (2 page)

With deep appreciation to St. John Knits for its support of the book and to Bren Simon for her support of the exhibition.

This book is published in conjunction with the exhibition “Read My Pins: The Madeleine Albright Collection” organized by the Museum of Arts and Design, New York. After being shown at the Museum, the exhibition will tour to selected venues in the United States and around the world.

Gold ginkgo leaf, designer unknown

silver ginkgo leaf, designer unknown

copper ginkgo leaf, Beauvoir, the National Cathedral Elementary School

gold-stemmed ginkgo leaf, Fabrice.

INTRODUCTION

In
Six Memos for the Next Millennium
, the great Italian short story–writer Italo Calvino recounts the legend of how the emperor Charlemagne was enchanted by a gold ring. Whoever or whatever possessed the ring held the power of bewitchment, from a deceased maiden to an archbishop and, ultimately, the lake into which the ring was cast. This small piece of jewelry took on magical powers, becoming “an outward and visible sign that reveals the connection between people or between events.” In addition to conveying information about the wearer—her or his status, finances, and affinities—jewelry has an impressive power to establish links among people, places, and events. Madeleine Albright’s pins are nothing if not eloquent and often provocative communicators.

Secretary Albright’s pins cannot be described as a collection in any traditional sense. Collectors usually set out with specific goals in mind as to what they intend to acquire and how they will secure the objects of desire, whether they be paintings, stamps, butterflies, or grandfather clocks. By contrast, Secretary Albright’s collection has grown organically over the years in response to the changing circumstances and opportunities of her life and career. This is a collection that has been amplified and enriched by the events that have engaged their owner, providing a visible record of past experiences and future hopes.

There is a delightful randomness and whimsy to the pins that make up this highly personal assemblage. Sought out in settings ranging from jewelry stores and art galleries to airport souvenir stands and the booths of craft fair vendors, they first spoke to Secretary Albright, asking (sometimes demanding) to be included in her trove of wearable images. Their value as communication devices once recognized, they were then inducted into service as diplomatic aides; sometimes demure and understated, sometimes outlandish and outspoken, they became gentle implements of statecraft.

Alert Lady, Brit Svenni/Berit Kowalski.
According to the designers, “One eye is extra watchful as Madeleine Albright is always alert to the world’s problems.”

The pins reveal a rich diversity of motifs and images. Angels, stars, balloons, American flags, and spaceships are juxtaposed with a menagerie of birds, bees, beetles, butterflies, fish, frogs, turtles, and snakes. A variety of garden flowers, sentimental hearts and bows, and mementos of specific events and holidays round out the collection.

Jewelry buffs typically focus their attention on the preciousness of the materials from which an item is made—gold, silver, rubies, or diamonds—or on the virtuosity of the craftsmanship revealed in its design. Secretary Albright’s pins, however, are for the most part unremarkable in their monetary value and, except for some pieces of antique or fine jewelry, likely to be by anonymous designers, and fabricated from materials ranging from base metals to plastics and glass. Rhinestones and crystal take the lead roles over diamonds, electroplating over solid gold.

Of modest intent and manufacture, Secretary Albright’s pins are of a kind that anyone could possess and wear. These are truly “pins of the people,” and part of Secretary Albright’s pleasure in wearing the pins must come from her recognition of their democratic nature. To assemble so notable a collection of pins takes something much more elusive and significant than money—it takes a magical combination of a collector’s eye, which can spot and home in on its target, and an ability to recognize the communicative potential of what might be deemed ordinary things. Through her pins, Secretary Albright tells us a great deal about herself—her sense of humor and her humanity—and does so with grace and flair.

It is especially gratifying to know that this delightful collection, with its engaging history and purpose, can be shared with so many through this publication and the memorable exhibition it accompanies.

David Revere McFadden
Chief Curator, Museum of Arts and Design, New York