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Chapter Four:
I took copious notes again on the ceramic artwork and artists, but also this time the textile artists. I had to hunt down images of Ilonka Karasz after the book casually mentioned she created 186 covers for the New Yorker magazine. I practically ate up the images I found; many of my favorite childrens' books were illustrated during the mid-to-late 20s to the late 40s, and Ilonka's work had the same aesthetic qualities I find so appealing in printed works. A little primitive or folksy, a little painterly. I recommend searching for more images; I was able to find some of her wallpaper patterns and textiles. Also, the description of textile artist Lydia Bush-Brown's work as "silk murals" set up a wonderful play in my mind between fabric and paint and what each "should be." Bush-Brown seems like Zorach in her treatment of material; make what you want without paying too much attention to the rules of the process. The variety in textile technique in this chapter was great! Some were exploring simply the way weave affected end product (Rodier) while others printed their design onto the fabric (Reeves).
I fell for Henry Varnum Poor. Two words were heavily outlined in my book: self-sufficiency and self-reliance. Perhaps because my secret dream is to one day make the plunge into having a full on studio of my own to work in day in and day out, but also how amazing is it that he BUILT his own house and studio?! Not only did he build the house but he built a pottery wheel (kick wheel, I'm sure) and taught himself--in trial by fire, literally--the ins and outs of firing a kersosene fueled kiln. I just love hearing about people that decide to do something and go out to conquer it. Best part about Poor's section in the book: "When he died in 1970, his kiln was ready to be fired." I hope when I go, I'll have continued to work up to the end. I'm taking with me from this chapter the gumption of Henry Varnum Poor: think it, want it, do it.
The discussion about Native American pottery made me think of one book that I recently read after attending an educators' workshop put on by the Nasher Sculpture Center and the Meadows Museum. Although the workshop was about Bhuddist cave temples, the lecturer recommended we read Craig Child's book "Finders Keepers" (Little, Brown and Co. 2010). Mainly his book covered the American southwest and the plight of Native American caches of pottery and artifacts. The book was amazing. Let me repeat (and catch your attention), THE BOOK WAS AMAZING!! <--truly. Childs covers so much in the book that makes one rethink ownership and rethink art collections, whether publicly held or private. He goes into detail about the spiritual implications for the Native peoples; when we unearth what they interred, it interrupts their life cycles. To quote, "My upbringing and my culture say we only let things go once , only put people away [bury] once, and hope no one will disturb them. We hope they will slowly return to the earth... Everything lives, everything has a spirit--grass, rock, vessel--and at some point they turn back." The book not inly covers Pre-Puebloan artifacts, but discusses a very interesting story of a Taoist (Daoist) monk guarding a lost library of Tibetan treasures in the Himalayan mountains (chapter 7 "History of Urges"). So, in order to not deviate too long from discussion of our chapter 4, I found myself thinking of the implications of ownership and culture while reading about the boon of Native American makers in the 20s; the Anglicanization of pot making, the making up of authenticity (Louisa Keyser and Cohns), and the breaking with traditions (gender roles in making and sharing/recording of patterns). Perhaps this is a tad Machiavellian of me, but it does not bother me that the motives of the Anglos assisting the Natives weren't all pure; what is important to me is that there was interest in these Native ways of making and the interest caused a contemporary record to be made and also encouraged the continuation of these practices.
One final thought on Chapter 4 (although I'm realizing I haven't touched at all on the topic of Art Deco and the wood/precious metals works), the phrase toward the end of the chapter in the section "the Last of the Old TImers" stuck out to me amidst all the art we've seen. "Beauty of form began to be regarded as more than incidental." It's the transition from folk pottery into studio pottery; from pottery as purely production to pottery for pottery's sake. We might find the idea of making an object without concern for it's overall aesthetic very strange indeed, but consider that these "old-timers" were traditionally making a ceramic product for its function without much regard to it's form. I think part of what makes the face jugs so appealing is their very awkward shaping. I'm sad that with the shrinking of our world (although global connectedness is awesome), we loose uninterrupted, uninfluenced, very quirky ways of making.
Although I wish for work to be preserved and continued, at what cost does that come? There are specific values in the work, that come from the individual creating it. Anglos and Native collaboration is great but can all the ceremonies and everything surrounding the motifs and aesthetics be as significant? Im not terribly sure, because before this chapter and other posts with linked information, I had a miniscule amount of knowledge about Native American craft. Every little bit counts I suppose.
ReplyDeleteIsn't that a conundrum? The great thing about archeology and art collections is that later generations can learn about and appreciate cultures that have died out or no longer work in that manner, although early archeology (or treasure hunters) plundered rather than preserved burial sites and other culturally important locations. In my opinion, if a responsible collector removes work prior to the demolition of plunders (such as the issue with Peruvian mummies being gathered and destroyed by greedy nationals), it is a beneficial thing for us all.
DeleteFor example, the hidden library of ancient Tibetan texts escaped being destroyed during General Mao's cultural erasure campaign because two earlier Western collectors came bargained for camel-loads of texts. Now, China (and Tibet) has an important piece of their linguistic, religious, and cultural past preserved in modern English museums.
One of the best art history classes I took was on Pre-Columbian pottery from a professor that was engaged half the year in archeological digs in Peru. We had no text book, only his photos and his stories. It was a wonderful way to learn about art. When it comes to Native American art, my knowledge is a little fizzier, although I have a lot of personal interest in spending time in New Mexico and southern Colorado...which has some great resources for learning about the ancient people that lived there.
You have convinced me that I need to read "Finders Keepers". I love that through this blog I have heard of informed recommendations for reading that I need on my to read list.
ReplyDeleteWhen you discussed how we "loose uninterrupted, uninfluenced ... ways of making" it brought up a discussion I have had with friends about the importance on solitude or I guess just plain working alone on ones art without regard to styles or any outside commentary. This time with the medium is so important and time consuming. This part of It reminds me of reading Rilke's "Letter to a Young Poet" where he suggests the young poet trust himself and not to pay attention to criticism, but to keep working. Not that I don't think we need good critical evaluations that can help us develop our ideas but there is a lot to be said for self discovery in working on an piece/image. I image the anglo benefactors were thinking of how much time they were saving the artists(and themselves) by letting them know what would and would not sell. I do value the fact that many skills were not lost due to the careful documentation of for example the textile patterns and glazing techniques. The description by Burlon Craig that a "good Potter"... could "turn it out reasonably thin and have a pretty nice shape" made me smile. Perhaps because a pretty nice shape pot would be difficult for me but he seemed so comfortable in his art and goals and aware of having a nice "shape" in the function of the pot. The authors description of how young potters today "carry on a self-conscious continuation" of his work , is what made me think about the bridge of brings function and art together.
There is a really interesting thing that happens as artists choose to work in groups or in seclusion. When working in a group a natural charing of ideas/styles/forms happens, without really being intended. An artist also gains valuable insight from another artist's attempts/failures. Plus that added benefit of working critiques. But to see an artist turn out work after living alone for years...a very interesting, untouched progression appears. It's like we can see that artist's thought processes, attempts/failures/corrections, all progressing. Like an evolution of the artist.
DeleteI think we've seen a few times now in our book where "outsiders" looking in thinking "oh, I could just help these people by..."; not necessarily with bad motives or purely ethnocentric motives, but genuinely wanting to help a people group progress. We can see how their intervention alters that group, whether for the better or for the worse, because we have the long lens of history to look through. I suppose that's something we have to evaluate for ourselves when we reach out to teach or help. How much will I shape this? How will I address that?
The journey is personal...each of us has to find the balance between group work or shared studio work or very alone time for ourselves. I know for me, there are a very few I can work with (as in shared studio space) I spend most of my time in my studio alone. There are animals and a husband near by but this space is mine and I do not welcome company.
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ReplyDeleteA word of caution...all nations or tribes are different. There is not one style, one kind of work, one road towards marketing. All artists or artist's families are not the same. It is way too easy for us, from our open hearts and curious minds to lump everyone together.
If you are even in Washington DC I highly recommend the National Museum of the American Indian, a part of the Smithsonian system. It is an amazing building with outstanding exhibits and information.
Also the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis, IN. They develop contemporary shows featuring living artist from across the country. I have used a number of their catalogs as books for classes. And then there is the Heard Museum in AZ. The leading authority on who is registered as a Native American (remember this makes a huge difference when art is sold) and are very open to any questions concerning the arts/life/culture. The point to all this is that over the last 60 years one of the shifts that has occurred is in the field of ownership and management. In place of having white people (no matter how well meaning or fair) many nations now have been trained to take care of their own artifacts and artwork. To write their own biographies or artist statements. Each of the mentioned museums have a bookstore...check it out. Another book that I highly recommend is "Where Art Has No Name" and "Shooting Back, On the Reservation".
And one final word of caution, this is from a number of my Native American friends,...all the secrets will not be given...ever. No matter how complete the story or writing may seem to be, it is never the whole story.
Thank you for the reading recommendations! I can always be convinced to buy new books, and have especially hard time passing up books in museum bookstores. I had to exercise restraint today after seeing the Chagall show up at the Dallas Museum of Art; there were quite a few gorgeous books calling out to me.
DeleteDo you think part of what keeps us curious about Native American art is that we don't have all the pieces? All the information? There's something about being an outsider, of any group--people, class, religion, club--that makes the mystery of the unknown a strong pull. I experienced a little of this with Chagall today; I have knowledge of Judaism, but his paintings are so filled with imagery and text to a world I don't know. I felt so curious about his word choices and placement of objects. Of course, we do have the help from historians and critics that break open Chagall's mystery.
You got me wanting to read “Finders Keepers” too! Isn’t it beautiful to think of all the culture in America? There is a ton of old history in all other parts of the world but what is amazing about America is that we have so many cultures here and we get to experience all the Native American crafts, Mexican crafts, European crafts that immigrants brought over and so forth. I remember when I lived in Italy and I had a local ask me if I’ve ever seen a real Indian or Cowboys. I thought it was funny but how true is that? When you grow up in a small town in Italy, more than likely everyone that you come in contact with will be full-blooded Italian. Which I thought was beautiful but they thought I was beautiful having a wide range of heritage in my blood and I have never seen it that way before.
ReplyDelete:) We do have a special cultural heritage here in the states. A broad range of people, ideas, and ways of making.
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