David Cawte: The hidden silversmith

‘My life as a Silversmith has been full of challenges but I don’t think I would have changed a thing. I have been to Scotland, France, Switzerland, Holland, Ireland and Canada all through my work in the trade. It has all been so interesting. I think Silversmiths are like Old Soldiers, they just fade away.’ For Goldsmiths’ Stories, writer John Andrew speaks to David Cawte about his journey to becoming a silversmith.

Although I knew David was a highly regarded silversmith (hence the FIPG - Fellow of the Institute of Professional Goldsmiths – after his name), I knew little about his career or work. I felt he had a story to tell that many would appreciate. I certainly wanted to know it, too!

When he was 16 and still at school, David had no idea what career he wanted. At a careers evening, when asked what he wanted to do, he randomly replied, ‘Art and metalwork’. He still does not know why he gave that response! As if from nowhere, a design for a metal mug was accompanied by, ‘Let’s see how you get on with making this. It sounds as if becoming a silversmith is just right for you.’ It was the first time he had heard the word ‘silversmith’, and here he was, potentially being sent on a course to become one! With the help of his metalwork teacher, David did ‘get on with it’. He was hooked - art and metalwork it was going to be! He sat an exam at the institution recommended for a Pre-Apprenticeship course and passed.

This was 1965, coincidentally an excellent time to think about undertaking a silversmithing course in London. This was because of the Sir John Cass College’s Department of Silversmithing and Applied Art merging with the Department of Silversmithing and Allied Crafts from the Central School of Arts and Crafts to form the Sir John Cass School of Art. The new body opened in September 1965 in newly built premises opposite the Whitechapel Art Gallery. It developed a superb reputation and it was undoubtedly the right place for David.

During  his final term in 1966, it was time for David to look for an apprenticeship. He applied to Comyns, which was founded in 1859 as he knew he would get an excellent apprenticeship. Having enjoyed a modern 1960s environment for a year, the workshop was not what he expected. He described it as, ‘Dickensian with windows high above floor level. It was not what I wanted.’ The 1960s, although we did not realise it at the time, was an era where decades of change took place in 10 short years. People’s expectations did change as a result. I can completely understand his reaction. As apprenticeships tail off as the new academic year approaches, David realised there was an urgency in arranging an alternative.

Mr A R Emerson, Head of Silversmithing, mentioned that a new silversmith to London was looking for an apprentice. This was the Australian Stuart Devlin who had bought a house in Clerkenwell in early 1965, as a home for him and his American wife, its cellar being his workshop. I asked David what he knew about Stuart Devlin. The reply was, ‘Nothing, apart from the fact that he had designed the Australian decimal coinage.’ This is true, but generally he was not known at that time, apart from by those who knew him when he studied at the Royal College of Art from 1958-60.

Stuart’s new business really took off and he soon realised that he needed to build a team around him. David quickly got his request off. When he went for his interview Stuart had a team of three. There was John Cannacott, who would be the Apprentice’s Master and Peter Johns and Chris Foster-Jones. He learnt Stuart had recently acquired a workshop in Clerkenwell. From the conversation, it was clear that this would be fitted out with modern benches with nothing Dickensian about it! After seeing the other applicant for the apprenticeship position, Stuart said he would get back to David. He received a letter on 29th August stating that he had been successful and would start in late October. David was sure the interview had been successful because Mrs Kim Devlin had liked a pendant among the pieces David had made. More likely, Devlin had seen something in David that the other candidate had not got!

Apart from a couple of slight disappointments with the Goldsmiths’ Craft & Design Council (GCDC), whose annual competition is colloquially known as the ‘Smiths’ Oscars’, all was well. The disappointment was that his two entries both received second as opposed to first place.  However, 1972 was an amazing year for David. He won the Apprentice of the Year title, the making of Stuart’s centrepiece of that year won him a first prize at GCDC and was illustrated on a full page in Country Life. He was made a Freeman of the Goldsmiths’ Company.

While David was quite happy to stay on at Devlin’s, his former master suggested that he move on, for although Stuart had appointed him a Large Worker, being a former apprentice, others would still view him as ‘the boy’. So, in 1972 he left and after eight months touring Europe, he returned to London and worked briefly for Michael Driver. Michael saw himself as a designer first and a silversmith second. He initially followed the concept of the medieval craftsman and made and sold his output under one roof. He built-up quite a business and David worked on pieces for the Duke of Gloucester and the Queen Mother while there. In 1974, he moved to Nayler Brothers, one of London’s great, long-established workshops regarded as a breeding ground for bench-trained apprentices.

I think David had found his craftsman’s equivalent of Shangri-La, except it was real. ‘A wonderful workshop - everything was handmade.’ He then rattled-off a list of some of the things he had made incuding, ‘An 18-carat gold mace for a University in South Africa; an Engagement Card Holder, a gift to the Prince of Wales from the Goldsmths’ Company; trophies galore; a Centrepiece for the Prince of Wales Regiment; a Pair of Chargers as a Wedding Gift to the Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer from a Middle-Eastern ruler and a cigar humidor which took five months to make.

This needs an explanation. This was to be a wedding gift for Lord Hesketh who owned Easton Neston, a Grade I country house and the humidor was to be a model of the house. Its roof lifted off to reveal the cedar wood lining where the cigars were kept. The house was quite complex. There was about 10 different windows and doors and a very complicated balustrade as part of the roof. Despite the delay, his Lordship was delighted and insisted that David sign the piece as its maker.

In 1982, the silversmith David Barker asked him to join his business as a partner. He agreed as he felt the Arab market was drying up. They worked together for three years silversmithing and restoring. In 1985, David decided to become a restorer, which meant he had to build up the confidence of dealers, auction houses and, of course, collectors. In 1989, he was asked to teach one day and two evenings a week on a BA silversmithing course at his alma mater, then called Guildhall University. In 1999, he joined The Antique Plate Committee (now The Goldsmiths’ Hallmark Authentication Committee), which meets quarterly at Goldsmiths’ Hall. It is the authority for fakes and forgeries of British antique silver. David served for 23 years. In 2008, he gave a talk on his life as a silversmith at the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto. This was so well-received, that it created a demand for similar talks in the UK. In recent years he has vetted British silver not only at leading antique fairs in the UK, but also at TEFAF Maastricht in Holland. It is organised by The European Fine Art Foundation (TEFAF). This is widely regarded as the world’s premier fair for fine art, antiques and design. The vetting process is one of the main pillars of TEFAF Maastricht’s success and is achieved by bringing together the world’s leading experts.

It goes without saying that David did manage to gain the confidence he needed to establish himself as a restorer of antique silver, including the House of Lords’ Black Rod. In 2013 he accompanied the silver expert Alastair Dickenson to Chichester to see what the owner thought was a brass mace. It was in fact a silver gilt 18th century example, that was not hallmarked. It needed restoring. Back in his workshop, David dissected it and discovered the maker’s mark of DS, which is believed to be for Daniel Seymour, a local smith registered at the London Assay office. The following year he accompanied Alastair to Dublin as Trinity College’s 1708-9 mace needed love and care. However, his most important restoration was to one of a pair of 1592 flagons at Eton College. In the 19th century the College had lent one to a church. When it was returned it had a different cover! David was commissioned to replace it with another to match the cover of its twin.

David has had a remarkable career and quite rightly was made a liveryman of the Goldsmiths’ Company in 2015. But, what does he think of his career? This is his summary:

‘My life as a Silversmith has been full of challenges but I don’t think I would have changed a thing. I have been to Scotland, France, Switzerland, Holland, Ireland and Canada all through my work in the trade. It has all been so interesting. I think Silversmiths are like Old Soldiers, they just fade away.’