Life of a jeweller is all rock 'n' rolled gold

A pad with a roof garden in Temple Bar, a studio around the corner and a client list that includes both the Sultan of Brunei …

A pad with a roof garden in Temple Bar, a studio around the corner and a client list that includes both the Sultan of Brunei and the Duke of Westminster - some people have all the luck.

Still in his thirties and looking considerably younger, goldsmith and gemmologist Sean Osborne's career has been meteoric since he graduated with honours from London's Sir John Cass Facility of Fine and Applied Art. Since 1988, Sean has earned seven awards in jewellery design, diamond mounting and craftsmanship.

Were it not for the heavy window bars and reinforced door, Sean's studio would pass for an ordinary storage lock-up.

Inside, an oak stump rescued from the Glen of the Downs is used for hammering and turning. The hand-carved beech workbench in the far corner was made by his friend Paul Moore and bartered for jewellery. A quirky Ionic pillar left over from a wedding fair is there just for fun.

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Pictures of Sean's award-winning designs decorate the walls. Among them are a magnificent neck-piece made from platinum crosses and silver sunglasses designed for a Marc O'Neill fashion show and a man's wedding ring with a diamond set on the inside. "He didn't want anything flashy," explains Sean.

Diamonds are Sean's speciality, ordered from Hatton Garden for each commission, so there are no big rocks lying around for potential jewel thieves. He never hoovers, preferring to sweep the bits of metal into a pouch which is then carefully examined for bits of platinum and white gold.

It's all very different from the suburbs of Bray where he grew up. "I was pretty well written off at `Pres' in Bray and later at Rockwell," says Sean. "I did the absolute minimum at school - art wasn't seen as a career then. I never thought I'd make a living out of making jewellery. I wanted to come back from London but I was worried about work.

"Avon cosmetics guaranteed me work making their master models and that's when I made my mind up to come home. When I did, I found it was really vibrant and happening here and there was a renaissance in jewellery. Irish people are into jewellery as a process, not just a commodity. I was lucky: I wanted to do this and I found the medium."

The workshop is off the beaten track, yet right in the middle of everything. A self-styled "small operator", Sean has no showroom and the Design Yard on Essex Street is his only outlet. His top-floor apartment on Essex Street was a real find. He paid £150,000 for the triangular-shaped one-bedroom flat less than a year ago and hasn't had time to decorate. It's an oddly shaped unit in a period house which was "gutted" about four years ago, says Sean. The roof garden is the best part, looking out over the rooftops of Temple Bar. You can get a bird's-eye view of the quays by clambering over the roof of the Design Yard.

"The roof's my favourite place - really contemporary, with flagstones and glass railings," says Sean. "I don't really mind the Zen look of the apartment. I'm going to really take my time on it and barter for nice pieces of furniture. I'll probably open the place out more and make the bedroom smaller. What I want is a combination of a sleek modern look broken up with 18th-century Rococo - and I might break the livingroom up with a rail and make it so it seems like two rooms. I won't go for more things, just replace what's here with better stuff.

"Because of my medium, I have stuff to swop. There are a lot of people in workshops around here, most in fine art, so there's not much manufacturing going on. It's very difficult to make a living working with your hands - it's almost impossible. My main thing is orders. I do things for £100 and £20,000 - the difference is only in the material. I made a pair of silver rings recently for £100; another guy wanted to spend £2,000 and another £4,000.

Work done, Sean enjoys the evening stroll across Temple Bar to the apartment. "I eat out all the time - Eden and the Trocadero are really nice. The one meal I do at home is breakfast. Everything is 100 yards away but I've got into the custom of staying out of the pubs. I don't suffer from shaking hands, but there is no way I could work if I was out every night."

At weekends, Sean enjoys Temple Bar's active social scene and likes the fact that, despite the tourists, it's a very close community. Artists and designers tend to meet at exhibitions and through mutual friends. Since he moved into the Essex Street apartment, his place has become a focal point for friends.

"Fiona Mulholland, who comes into the studio to water my plants, is a sculptor who came back from London and now finds she's more into fine art. Killian Schurmann is in glass and Orla de Bri's raunchy female figures are becoming very well-known. She's in Meath, but we've done shows together. I don't really know anyone who works in an office.

"I've been asked to teach gem-setting at the National College of Art and design. I wouldn't want to become a full-time teacher, but the contact is nice. A couple of students are doing jewellery for their degree show. I do worry when I look at older people and you can tell they've lost their hand-to-hand co-ordination. Apprentices are a good idea, but they leave after two or three years. In England, you're indentured for seven years. When I'm busy, I get students from NCAD, but generally I get by on my own.

"It's really starting to happen for me here. Irish people tend to be loyal and buy in Ireland if it's available. In 10 years' time, I'll probably be completely burnt out and move to the country, looking for a quiet life. My mother has taken up painting in recent years. She says she inherited her artistic genes from me."