Sri von Bueren on the Scarab: Craft, Memory, and the Pleasure of Making

A Young Sri von Bueren

GROWING UP WITH MATERIALS

I grew up around objects rather than ideas. Materials were always present — wood, metal, stone — handled, discussed, argued over. Craft was not romanticised in our house; it was simply part of daily life. You learnt quickly what worked, what didn’t, and what deserved time.

Traditional schooling was never my strength. After my O-levels, I left for Germany and found myself starting five a.m. shifts in a glass factory. I worked in the metal workshop, producing moulds from technical drawings, machining them to specification. When those moulds lost tolerance or broke, I was the one repairing them on the production line. That was where I realised, I was good with my hands. I learned German from scratch, worked across two factories, and discovered that making things suited me far more than theory ever had.

That led me to Idar-Oberstein — a town defined by stone. I joined a free one-year foundation programme there, learning the practical disciplines of goldsmithing, silversmithing and lapidary. It was direct, honest training: how metals behave, how stones fracture, how mistakes cost time.

From there, I secured a formal apprenticeship in Germany. The apprenticeship system suited me: one day a week was spent in school alongside workshop practice, learning metal characteristics, theory, and material behaviour — understanding not just how to make something, but why materials behave the way they do. I spent three and a half years balancing workshop practice with school-based theory. My final piece — a modern necklace with detachable cabochon tourmalines that could be worn as earrings or as a necklace — earned an A. More importantly, it confirmed that this was the path I wanted to stay on.

At the same time, my parents were already immersed in making and trading. My mother, Helen, was designing small curios and jewellery; my father, Rolf, was dealing in imported wines. I was constantly moving between Germany and Thailand, often stopping in India to source jewellery and bring it back. That movement — between cultures, materials, and ways of working — became normal to me very early on.

Sri von Bueren with his parents, LAdV founders Rolf and Helen von Bueren.

The First and Second Generation of the von Bueren Family

LEARNING BY LOOKING

One of the most formative influences on me was Heeramaneck & Sons. Walking through Adi Heeramaneck’s antique shop behind the Regal Cinema was an education in itself. You saw objects properly made — silversmithing, watches, pieces with weight, restraint, and intelligence. Adi would explain everything: why something mattered, how it was made, what separated the exceptional from the ordinary.

I spent a great deal of time with his family — with his wife Perin, and with his son Mehernosh, who is now the owner of Heeramaneck & Sons, as well as his daughter-in-law Harsha. We would sit, talk, look closely at objects, and eat good Parsi food at their house. That mattered more than books ever could. Sitting in jewellers’ shops, watching how pieces were handled, noticing where craftsmanship revealed itself — that is how you really learn.

Eventually, after returning to Thailand, I brought a friend from the Netherlands — who still lives here today — and together we opened Lotus Arts de Vivre’s first official workshop dedicated to producing our own jewellery. That was a turning point. From then on, we were no longer only selecting or commissioning; we were making.

Princess Luciana Piniatelli and Dame Sherley Bassey with Sri von Bueren

Sri von Bueren with Khun Ying Nathika

WHY THE SCARAB

The scarab has been part of Lotus for a long time, so conceptualising this collection came quite naturally. What continues to fascinate me is the beetle itself — the wings, the colours, the fact that these colours are not man-made. They change over the beetle’s lifetime. Green is predominant, but it is never static. You cannot replicate it artificially.

The process is labour-intensive. We work with the neck section of the beetle — where the wings and head connect — something very few houses do. There is a complexity there that requires patience and precision. But I genuinely had fun making this collection.

In Thailand, scarab wings have long been used in textiles, sewn into garments such as sarongs in patterned arrangements. Much of this tradition was preserved and elevated through the efforts of Her Majesty Queen Sirikit, the Queen Mother of Thailand (1932–2025). She actively revived the use of traditional scarab wings in applied arts, holding competitions for artisans across the country, purchasing works to support them, and displaying the finest pieces in her museum. Alongside this, she played a critical role in preserving Thai silk embroidery, bidri work and many other crafts. That context matters. These materials are not decorative novelties; they carry cultural weight.

Sri von Bueren: Creative Director of LAdV

CRAFTING JEWELLERY THAT COMMANDS THE ROOM

People often ask which pieces I prefer. I genuinely love them all, but I am particularly drawn to large, one-off pieces that don’t solely rely on conventional stones to make them shine. What interests me is presence — the way a piece enters a room. The scarab does that. It isn’t about scale or carat weight; it’s about the force of the material itself.

Every piece in this collection has its own journey, its own complexity, its own challenges in creation. But the most important thing, always, is the pleasure someone gets from wearing it. I like the moment when someone looks in the mirror and simply says, “Wow.” When the piece looks right on the person — that matters more to me than anything else.

At the same time, we are pushing forward. We use advanced technologies such as 3D printing where it makes sense — for example, creating flexible snake forms — not to replace craft, but to extend what is possible. The Scarab collection is about having fun with high levels of taste, refinement, and appreciation for fine jewellery. Serious work does not need to be solemn.

Sri von Bueren with his sons

THE IRIDESCENT EVENT

The Scarab Iridescent Collection marked a shift for us. It was the first time we worked with professional hosts to run an event. Until then, we had done everything ourselves — the decorations, the hosting, the logistics. This time, it felt more like the careful tuning of an engine — refining and improving what already existed so that everything ran more smoothly.

A close friend of mine, Eric, handled the décor beautifully. But what mattered most to me was that people enjoyed themselves. That sense of ease, of happiness in the room, is something you cannot manufacture.

This collection also represents a new direction for Lotus. These pieces are lighter, easier to wear, and designed for movement through the day — while still carrying the immediate, recognisable language of Lotus Arts de Vivre. Earlier scarab pieces leaned more towards statement evening wear. This is an expansion, not a departure.

Sri von Bueren – The Designing of The Iridescent Scarab Collection

GORDON GU

Gordon Gu is a major designer, but what matters more to me is that we discovered each other organically. Gordon discovered us, and we discovered him, and from that mutual recognition came the decision to collaborate.

Gordon incorporates golden leaves into his work, drawing directly from his tea plantations in Guangzhou, and combines them with his crystalline design language. It is deeply personal, rooted in place and material — something I respect enormously.

Brass is often seen as an ordinary material, while silver is associated with glamour. Yet brass is everywhere — in ships, in essential structures, in places where strength and reliability matter most. It is an underappreciated material, and when handled with a high level of craftsmanship, it can be extraordinary. You will see this clearly when the next GORDON GU × Lotus Arts de Vivre collection launches.

FAMILY, CONTINUITY, AND WORK

My brother Nicklas and I have spent years working side by side — touring, showing, refining, building. Weekends were rarely weekends: New York, Palm Beach, shows, constant movement. As Lotus has grown into a business, we have grown we have grown with it, continuing what our parents founded, but in our own way. That continuity matters to me.

The Second Generation of LAdV: Brothers Nicklas and Sri von Bueren

ON INSPIRATION

I’ve never believed in a single source of inspiration. Fabergé remains extraordinary for its engineering and intelligence. I admire Hemmerle for its fearless use of unconventional materials and its commitment to one-of-a-kind work.

JAR fascinates me for his instinctive dedication to the jewel itself — pieces that take years to resolve, using colour and form in ways that feel entirely personal. Vintage Cartier, particularly clocks and watches, shows what true construction looks like.

Monies appeals to me for its raw engagement with nature and its use of rock and crystal without compromise. Cindy Chao’s work, focused on leaves and nature, and her use of lost-wax techniques combined with an insistence on wearability, commands deep respect. Wallace Chan’s creations are simply extraordinary in their intricacy.

We develop only a few collections a year — depending on the work — and much of it remains deliberately quiet. The direction, increasingly, is towards nature.

WHY LOTUS IS WHAT IT IS

I wouldn’t want to make conventional jewellery; there are already so many who have mastered that craft beautifully. At Lotus, we work with exotic materials, with mythology, with belief systems. We bring Asian culture and Western workmanship together, using local materials. This practice is rarely explored in Europe. Our understanding of Feng Shui, religion, and mythology is not superficial — it is embedded.

The difference between earlier scarab pieces and this collection is simple: these are pieces you can live with every day. And there is more to come.