I first met Castro in Paris and I was drawn to his artistry and his free soul right from the start. His interest in antique porcelain dolls, animals and West African medieval culture fascinated me, and he had an extraordinary ability to work with a wide variety of metals and stones creating intensely individual pieces. I have worked with a lot of exceptional artists and designers throughout my career, but Castro stood out.
His work carried a lot of meaning and the right amount of humor, just like he was himself. The way he mixed materials and references made a lot of sense to me and we connected immediately on a personal level because of our nomadic spirits and free souls. He loved his freedom and, because of it, he understood how much I valued mine too.
Castro was born and grew up in Toledo, Ohio and, although it took him a while to get there, he was always meant to create beautiful jewelry. The extent of his professional training consisted of a short jewelry course that lasted 1 weekend. He eventually opened a jewelry store in Toledo where he sold and repaired other designers’ work to make ends meet and, after a stint in Chicago working in fashion retail, he moved to New York in 2006 where he started selling the pieces he’d begun making. For years he had a stand on Spring Street in Soho and it wasn’t until 2012 that he formally set up Castro NYC.
He was never one to follow trends or to conform, he was all about pushing boundaries and provoking. By the time I met him he had already grown tired of NY’s frenetic rhythm and moved east to Istanbul. A bold move for a fledgling creative in the midst of setting up a studio and business, but his nomad spirit and independent attitude were unstoppable.
The first piece I bought from him, when we met in Paris, was one of his white porcelain angels but I hardly ever wore it. When he questioned me, I realized I wanted to wear it next to a black angel. Jokingly Castro told me that black angels ‘didn’t exist’ but I made him listen to a song I grew up with called Angelitos Negros (black angels). It’s based on the poem, Pintame Angelitos Negros (paint me black angels) by Andrés Eloy Blanco, a Venezuelan poet and politician who, amongst other causes, campaigned against racism and injustice. After this, Castro set off on a mission to source a black angel for me and our long term collaboration took off.
During the pandemic we got to work on another project together when I introduced him to Jennifer Shanker, founder of the Muse fine jewelry store in NY. I had been invited by Jennifer to curate a collection for Muse’s Have a Heart philanthropic initiative and wanted Castro to create a bespoke charm to benefit Glasswing International as part of of. He immediately accepted, offering not one but four different pieces. Provided it was on his own terms. When a journalist asked him about the collaboration process and if he had been left to his own devices, he commented, “That is the only way I can work. I’m the Boss. I do what I want only.”
In an interview with Marion Fasel for The Adventurine, Castro commented:
“I like the monkeys, because I like movement of their arms and legs and the sound the jewels make when you move the parts. It is a metaphor to remind you to constantly move for circulation. It’s also the youth and movement of your life and relationships. The masks and mini hats on some of the pieces reflect the masks people wear in life.”
What frustrated me as I got to know him better was the lack of recognition his work received and his sanguine attitude about it. But he was an artist, not a businessman.
During the course of our friendship, I found myself at times in need of reining in his rebelliousness by showing him some tough love. He was a perfectionist and could easily spend 200 hours working on a single piece. But self-discipline and structure did not come naturally to him.
However, the advice that I – and so many other close friends who cared for him deeply – offered him was starting to bear fruit of late and he was on the path of becoming a lot more professional. For the first time ever he was even in the process of recruiting an assistant to take care of the day-to-day so that he could continue to create freely and stay true to himself.
I was brought up by spiritual parents and, as a family, we often discussed death as being a natural part of life – needing to make it our mission to continue growing and evolving until our last breath. So, in spite of the sadness of losing him, it comforts me to think that Castro died evolving and at peace.
One of the last pieces Castro was working on was the angel pendant we had been discussing since we first met. He never managed to source a black angel however, earlier this year he came across these black and white twin angels (pictured below), which I thought symbolized our friendship perfectly. He was very close to completing and hand delivering the piece to me – he was so attached to his work that he didn’t trust shipping companies to deliver them. We were due to meet soon.
As part of his creative process, Castro often filmed himself working and pondering on where he was at – in the making process as well as in life. Some of them, like this clip, are incredibly charming and funny!
One of the last details he was working on were the angels’ wings, which he chose to carve from Mexican ebony, an incredibly hard wood that requires a lot of skill and energy to manipulate. The metaphor that Castro died whilst carving angel wings and has now become an angel himself is not lost on me.
May you rest in peace, my angel.