Hoffmann, fifty-three, is Ann Arbor’s most gossiped-about jeweler. While other custom jewelry designers also work in the rarefied world where single pieces can cost in the middle five figures, Hoffmann is notorious not only for his high-priced jewelry but also for envelope-pushing concepts and materials (one of his lines used actual insect carapaces mounted in gold). More recently, he says, “I did a whole series of jewelry based on the Iraqi War, and it all sold—shapes like shields, spears, stealth bombers.”
The operatic swells and troughs of his personal life have added to the attention. He speaks candidly of his bipolar condition, and his business has been through some spectacular and well-publicized booms and busts. At one time he had stores in Chicago and New York. For the last twenty years, he operated Matthew C. Hoffmann Jewelry Design on Maynard. It quietly closed last July, when, just as quietly, a small shop named Ten opened in Nickels Arcade.
“In the early part of 2008, I became deathly ill,” Hoffmann says of the change. “My chest cavity filled with fluid. I had holes drilled into me and had fluid sucked out of me with this electric machine. I was in the hospital for months.” What was the underlying problem? “They’re not really sure,” he shrugs.