Marchmont Silversmithing workshops Masterclass
In July, 2026, I got to visit the incredible Marchmont Silversmithing Workshops, part of the Hugo Burge Foundation, at Marchmont House, in the Scottish Borders. The workshop came into being thanks to two incredible legacies. The first was from Graham Stewart, a brilliant Scottish silversmith who bequeathed the entire contents of his workshop for the purposes of training the next generation of smiths. Graham was always a generous man, I knew him a little from my early days exhibiting at Goldsmiths’ Fair, when his kindness and reassuring guidance shone through all the glitz and sparkle of Goldsmiths’ Hall, putting me at ease and settling my nerves.
The late, much missed Hugo Burge had the vision to house Graham’s tools and equipment in what was then a derelict kennels building on the Marchmont estate, and the incredible workshops you see here are the exceptional result. Three young silversmiths, (l-r above, Iona Hall, Freya Jeavons, me, and Jessica Awaritefe) now work there on 12 month tenancies, alongside Senior Silversmith Katie Watson. The opportunity includes regular Masterclasses, which is how I came to be there.
The whole place seemed to me to be imbued with a particular kind of magic. Not only is it buzzing with creative activity of all kinds and stunning artworks, as well as warm community spirit, but hares hopped past the kitchen window as I made a cup of tea.
The week was packed with learning; raising, tool-making, stick-fed soldering, anticlastic forming, forging, planishing, adapting hammers, all sorts, as three of them were working towards exhibiting at Goldsmiths’ Fair. I absolutely loved teaching there, it’s the kind of opportunity my younger self would have dreamed of, but it didn’t exist back then!
There is much talk of silversmithing being in danger, a dying art. Things are changing, and the pace of change can be frightening, but this energetic and exuberant vote for the future of silversmithing, with faith placed in the next generation, defies the dreary nostalgia. The future is bright.
As long as I live, I’ll continue to do all I can to be a bridge between the incredible masters of the craft who I’ve been fortunate enough to learn from and those who choose to commit to this extraordinary creative life. It takes a long time to develop the skills, we hold them together, in community, across generations, and down through millennia.