124 West Allegan Street • Suite 1600 • Lansing, MI 48933
Business: 517.482.5552 • Fax: 517.482.4507
marendsen369@mail.com
Lansing's Jeweler's Jeweler
by George Trumbull
Get off the elevator on the 16th floor of the Michigan National Tower downtown, and just for a jiffy you feel like you've gone to heaven. It is so spookily quiet. Your fantasy is heightened further when you see your image reflected in the high-gloss, mausoleum-like marble walls that greet you.
As you stand there transfixed, not knowing whether to turn right or left, all of a sudden this lofty and eerie tranquility is pierced by the sounds of metal being filed, accented by the staccato of light bounding. You turn left into the open door identified with the number "1600" and find yourself interrupting the riveted concentration of two of Lansing's remarkable artists in residence, Jon Arendsen and his look-alike brother Mark.
Mark -- "he's the quiet one," his genteel and older brother wants you to know -- momentarily stops his artistry. While he was about to fashion a gold pendant in the shape of a fox, he and his brother are for this moment particularly exuberant over a recently completed ring, a woman's wedding band, the setting made of several pieces of entwined 18-karat yellow gold wire on which a cluster of diamonds has been majestically enthroned.
Arendsen Jewelers is where Jon and Mark proudly lengthen the legacy, started by their father Norman, of designing and producing exceptional custom and contemporary handcrafted jewelry. The senior Arendsen, retired in 1981 and currently residing in Indian River, began the family business in 1957. During his stint in the military he repaired precision instruments and then, after being in business with Joe Owens of Linn & Owens Jewelers for 10 years decided, (sic) to strike out on his own and launch his own business. "It was really my mother who should get the credit," said Mark. "She convinced our father to start his own business after more than a decade working for others."
Years later, Norman Arendsen would receive the enviable plaudits in his profession as "a jeweler's jeweler" as he kept alive the nearly dying art of hand-engraving on fine jewelry. "Our father could do anything any customer wanted," said a proud son, Jon. "I don't mean to sound boastful, but that's simply the truth."
Even though their father retired 10 years ago, business partners Jon, 49, and Mark, 40, hold their benefactor in such high esteem that his name remains in the business directory in the bank lobby. A customer or visitor cannot overlook a picture of the respected founder prominently displayed on the wall behind Jon's workbench. While he grips the cigar in his right hand, the 75-year-old artisan looks out from beneath the raised square-framed jeweler's magnifying glasses and makes his point with a customer using his left hand. It was with these same hands that the 1935 scholarship student at Rhode Island School of Design would survive nerve-testing and rigorous hours engraving monotonous straight lines upon zinc-coated copper followed by days of practicing making loops and swirls. Little did he know that this precise workmanship would be passed to his sons and be treasured by those who value artistry through jewelry.
The Arendsens pay more attention to quality than quantity output. "It is much more enjoyable and exciting to create and work on a special piece to the ultimate satisfaction of the purchaser," Jon said. "My heart is in sitting at the bench creating pretty jewelry. That's primarily what I enjoy doing. I prefer putting together a quality product with rich gems."
But, had he stuck it out at the prestigious Ringling School of Art in Sarasota, Fla., Jon Arendsen might not have landed where he is today. He described himself then as "a foolish kid with no direction," even though he and Mark had been weaned in his father's jewelry business at a very young age.
"I really did not know anything other than the jewelry industry. That was my whole life from the time I was 14 years old. After school (former West Junior High) I would go down and help in the shop (then in a basement shop at 103 E. Washtenaw). Sometimes it was cleaning the shop, other times it was jewelry work of some kind, or just running errands. Whatever it took.
"In those days, if a jewelry store couldn't do a particular piece the customer would be referred to us. We would do the special job, such as a handcrafted broach, a ring setting, a pendant, or whatever the other jeweler was not equipped to do. As time went on, we developed a one-on-one type of trade rather than working for these other jewelers."
Jon meticulously encases a garnet gem in its new gold setting, bending each of the four prongs of the mount against the stone with delicate care. "Over the years (,) we have established a clientele who can afford the luxury of better jewelry," Jon said, as he removed the trademark magnifying glasses.
To Arendsen, every job, no matter who the purchaser, is looked upon as a priceless challenge, a once-in-a-lifetime creation. He seldom duplicates a piece. And if you press him a bit, he will describe a special and sentimental favorite, a photograph of which is on the wall next to his father's picture. It shows a feather-like broach with 15 radiant diamonds. It is extraordinary to Jon and his wife Susan because it was designed after one of the school scribbles of their four-year-old daughter Jessica. It was entered in a Michigan show of professional goldsmiths and earned second prize.
"I have kept this piece of jewelry and will give it to our daughter on her 21st birthday," Jon tells you. And it seemed almost sacrilege to focus on the price of this particular keepsake or on any Arendsen stroke of skill for that matter. "I don't relate price to what I am doing."
I really can't imagine that Michelangelo did either.
George Trumbull is a Lansing resident who specializes in writing about downtown Lansing.
Photos courtesy of David Trumpie.
From Lansing City Magazine, February 1992, pages 16-18.
Arendsens Craft Customized Jewelry
By Jane Whittington
If the sun seems to glint with a particular brilliance off the windows of the 16th Floor of the former Michigan National Bank Tower, perhaps it has something to do with the diamonds, sapphires, rubies and gold displayed in the two rooms occupied by Arendsen Jewelry. Tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of a building largely occupied by government and legal offices, the Arendsens sell a dazzling array of custom-designed and handcrafted jewelry. Since 1957, they've been supplying Lansing with engagement rings, anniversary pendants, graduation bracelets and "I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday" two-carat diamond earrings.
According to Jon, the business had its beginning not in Lansing but in Belgium during World War II when Norman E. Arendsen, father of current owners Mark and Jon Arendsen, met Lansing jeweler Joe Owen. Arendsen was stationed there near the end of the war and met Owen when the Lansingite noticed him sketching one of the many churches in the city and initiated a conversation. They discovered that they had much in common. Both were from Michigan, and Arendsen's father in Detroit was an artist and sign painter as was Owen, who had worked as a sign painter before the war. Owen discovered that Arendsen had attended the Rhode Island School of Design where he learned engraving and had engraved pistols for such notables as then Vice President Harry S. Truman. The friendship led to Arendsen's move to Lansing…
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