Sonata Bylaitė

I never create for everybody. Everybody – that’s a shapeless category. I feel good when I see an image of a particular person in my mind as I work. Perhaps we have only just met for the first time; we talked about an important occasion, his or her dearest one, or perhaps about the mood at that particular time. I always want to put these thoughts into my jewellery, for that is the only way it acquires a spirit.

Each and every piece of jewellery is a unique emotion and delight – this is absolutely vital. In that sense, I am a creator of mood. Without it, my jewellery would be meaningless. Without aesthetics and emotion, which often show in a very personal way, my jewellery would be just a group of items. I think it is important to create delight.

I feel privileged because for a number of years after finishing my studies I was a fashion designer. For that reason, taking up jewellery was an entirely natural move. I made eighteen collections as a fashion designer, and showed them in several cities across Europe, from Vilnius to Tbilisi to Paris. Invariably, fashion critics would compliment me, noting the consistency of construction and form, the combinations of silhouettes and details, and the subtle harmony of colours.

Sometimes I find it strange to think that in my youth I gained my first understanding of aesthetics through sport, rather than at art school. For ten years, until the age of sixteen, I took part in artistic gymnastics. It was serious: I took part in a number of competitions, including world and European championships. I lived through some essential artistic experiences well before turning to art. I realised the importance of line, detail and precision. I grasped the principles of plasticity of movement, and the beauty of harmony between parts.

But this is just a theory. Any consideration of aesthetic principles, the influence of art movements, and arrangements of basic elements, is virtually worthless in artistic creativity, unless it includes the person and his life. This is true about jewellery, as well.

Sonata Bylaitė


At the beginning, it was about my eighteen fashion collections, and my work as a stylist for film and television. Later, I turned to what often goes together with clothes and style: adornments. I started as if it was a game with coloured beads, pieces of leather and material. Very soon, I realised just how engaging the game was, and that it was not a game any more.

I love Art Nouveau. That is why I am fond of line, rhythm and asymmetry. When I imitate the forms of nature, I sometimes hear people calling me a follower of Baroque. But it is not the terminology that provides the inspiration. I will probably never cease to be amazed at the process by which a thread of metal (not any metal, but gold) turns into a curved ornament: an inimitable story that is often told to a particular person, and breathes her or his moods. This kind of stichomythic creation creates surprises every time the golden threads settle down into a silhouette, even before an idea appears. They sneak and crawl, as if on their own, following the emotions of the moment, or perhaps just slightly ahead of it.


I want my jewellery, which is born out of creative spontaneity, to be light and harmonious, like miniatures moving slowly in space. I look for subtle combinations of gold and precious stones, for I am convinced that the aesthetics of jewellery is capable of catching the emotion of an instant. An instant that a person often craves to relive.

Each and every piece of jewellery has a life, like a character whose destiny may be free of a social context, but will be absolutely dependent on the meanings its owner gives it. This is precisely why, since ancient times, jewellery has been meant to be passed on. And this is why when I work I think of the one and only story of the one and only person, told by golden threads in a modern and luxurious way.