INFORMATION TO USERS This reproduction was made from a copy o f a document sent to us for microfilming. While the most advanced technology has been used to photograph and reproduce this document, the quality of the reproduction is heavily dependent upon the quality of the material submitted. The following explanation o f techniques is provided to help clarify markings or notations which may appear on this reproduction. 1. The sign or “ target” for pages apparently lacking from the document photographed is “Missing Page(s)” . If it was possible to obtain the missing page(s) or section, they are spliced into the film along with adjacent pages. This may have necessitated cutting through an image and duplicating adjacent pages to assure complete continuity. 2. When an image on the film is obliterated with a round black mark, it is an indication o f either blurred copy because o f movement during exposure, duplicate copy, or copyrighted materials that should no t have been filmed. For blurred pages, a good image o f the page can be found in the adjacent frame. If copyrighted materials were deleted, a target note will appear listing the pages in the adjacent frame. 3. When a map, drawing or chart, etc., is part o f the material being photographed, a definite method o f “sectioning” the material has been followed. It is customary to begin filming at the upper left hand comer o f a large sheet and to continue from left to right in equal sections with small overlaps. If necessary, sectioning is continued again—beginning below the first row and continuing on until complete. 4. For illustrations that cannot be satisfactorily reproduced by xerographic means, photographic prints can be purchased at additional cost and inserted into your xerographic copy. These prints are available upon request from the Dissertations Customer Services Department. 5. Some pages in any document may have indistinct print. In all cases the best available copy has been filmed. University Miaonlms International 300 N. Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Ml 48106 8400550 D ew h u rst, C harles Kurt THE FOLK POTTERY-MAKING TRADITION OF GRAND LEDGE, MICHIGAN: MATERIAL FOLK CULTURE STUDY Ph.D. M ichigan State University University Microfilms International 300 N. Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, Ml 48106 Copyright 1983 by Dewhurst, Charles Kurt All Rights Reserved 1983 PLEASE NOTE: In all c a se s this material has been filmed in the best possible way from the available copy. Problems encountered with this docum ent have been identified here with a check mark V 1. Glossy photographs or p a g e s ______ 2. Colored illustrations, paper or print______ 3. Photographs with dark background 4. Illustrations a re poor copy 5. P ages with black marks, not original copy______ 6. Print shows through a s there is text on both sid es of pag e______ 7. Indistinct, broken or small print on several p a g e s . S 8. _ Print exceeds margin requirem ents______ 9. Tightly bound copy with print lost in spine______ 10. . \ / Computer printout pages with indistinct print_____ 11. P ag e(s)____________ lacking when material received, and not available from school or author. 12. P ag e(s)____________ seem to b e missing in numbering only a s text follows. 13. Two pages nu m b ered ____________. Text follows. 14. Curling and wrinkled p a g e s ______ 15. O ther____________________________________ __________________ _________________ University Microfilms International THE FOLK POTTERY-MAKING TRADITION OF GRAND LEDGE, MICHIGAN: A MATERIAL FOLK CULTURE STUDY by C . Kurt Dewhurst A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of English American Studies 1983 Copyright by CHARLES KURT DEWHURST 1983 ABSTRACT THE FOLK POTTERY-MAKING TRADITION OF GRAND LEDGE, MICHIGAN: A MATERIAL FOLK CULTURE STUDY by C. Kurt Dewhurst The purpose of this study has been to rediscover and further document the history and nature of folk pottery production in Grand Ledge, Michigan. This has been under­ taken with the hypothesis that the history and nature of pottery can best be fully revealed by examining the inter­ relationship of the makers of the pottery and the members of the community of Grand Ledge. Conventional historical accounts rely primarily on census materials, business directories, deeds, tax assessment records, newspaper accounts and diaries to reconstruct events. Although these tools played a considerable role in this project, the often overlooked resources — the people — have taken the central role in presenting the folklife of a community that has had a distinctive past in pottery making. This mater­ ial folk culture study relies upon a synthesis of approaches employed by various disciplines that have addressed material culture study. The collection and C . Kurt Dewhurst documentation of examples of pottery and the many inter­ views and fieldwork experience serve as the data base for this study. The development of pottery making activity in Grand Ledge is traced from early family potteries of the 1860s to the establishment of industrial potteries of the 1880s. However, the primary focus of this study are the examples of folk pottery made by workers on their own time while at work in the industrial potteries. These creations of lions, turtles, alligators, snakes, dogs, cats, bookends, ashtrays, planters, and assorted items were made for the workers' personal use or as gifts for friends. These items of material folk culture are examined as indicators of com­ munity identity and folk expression. Among the findings of this study for understanding the Grand Ledge folk pottery-making experience were the following: 1. The impact of industrialization on folklife and mater­ ial folk culture has not only been exaggerated but mis­ understood. 2. Occupational groups can function as folk groups to cultivate, formulate, and transmit folklore and mater­ ial folk culture. 3. Material folk culture such as the folk pottery of Grand Ledge provides an indicator of workers' 4. culture. Community response and time can alter the meaning of material folk culture. C. Kurt Dewhurst 5. The study of American material folk culture might best be understood to be the study of material folk culture in America. 6. Objects of material folk culture such as the folk pot­ tery of Grand Ledge can be collected systematically and organized for analysis. In addition to these findings, a number of basic premises are identified as an integrated theoretical framework that can serve as foundation for material culture study. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I want to thank the members of my doctoral committee for their guidance and encouragement in the preparation and review of this study. Russel Nye, Sadayoshi Omoto, Peter Levine, and Victor Howard provided keen insights into and a deeper understanding of the experience of community life in America. My appreciation of the nature and value of aesthetic folk expression has been nurtured by their teach­ ing. In addition, -I wish to acknowledge the contributions of my colleague and wife, Marsha MacDowell, who offered thoughtful counsel and practical assistance in this under­ taking. I am grateful for her wisdom and love which has sustained me throughout the preparation of this disserta­ tion. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS Page List of Illustrations....................................vii INTRODUCTION . . . . ................................. 1 Object Making and Object Use ...................... 3 CHAPTER I: THE STUDY OF MATERIAL FOLK CULTURE S T UDY..................................... 9 The Humanities and Material Folk Culture Study . . 11 The Social Sciences and Material Folk Culture S t udy.............................................. 20 The Conflict: The Art, The Artists, and The Context............................................ 22 Basic Conceptual Approaches to Material Folk Culture Scholarship............................... 28 Material Folk Culture Study: An Integrated Selected Approach................................. 31 CHAPTER II: THEORY, METHOD AND FIELDWORK........... Folk Expression: Object Making Shaped by Time . . Implications for Fieldwork ........................ CHAPTER III: 42 44 49 GRAND LEDGE, MICHIGAN: A BRIEF COMMUNITY HISTORY...................... 56 Brief Sketches of the Pottery Operations in Grand L e d g e........................................ 67 The Loveless Pottery, c. 1860.................... 67 The Harrington Pottery, c. 1862.................. 68 iv V Page Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company, c. 1886...... 71 American Sewer Pipe Company, c. 1898 ........... 71 American Vitrified Products Company, c. 1910 71 Grand Ledge Clay Products, .. 1906.................. 77 Pottery Making.. and the Folk Tradition............ 87 CHAPTER IV: WORKS OF ART AND THE ARTS OF WORKING. Form Follows Function — Functional Meaning: CHAPTER V: . 98 Or Does I t ? ........... 142 The Lion as Folk Symbol . .. 147 FOLK EXPRESSION AND COMMUNITY IDENTITY . . . . . ___ . . ..... ... . . . , . 156 An Insider's View: Occupational Identity and Self Expression..................................159 Voices From the Pottery Community................ 161 Harry Poole:... Former Pottery Work e r ...............161 Homer Godfrey: Former Pottery Worker and Foreman........... 165 Bruce Decke: Industrial Pottery Owner ............ 172 Jim Brighton: Pottery Worker .................. 175 Voices of Community Response to the Study. CHAPTER VI: . . . . 180 CONCLUSION............................. 185 Implications of the Study for Understanding The Grand Ledge Experience .................... The Basic Premises of Material Culture Study . . 186 .. 192 Man as Object M a k e r ............................. 192 Man as Maker Within a Social System............193 Objects are Cultural Products.................. 195 Page Objects are Culturally Relative.................196 Objects Can Function Objectively ................ 198 The Cultural Life of Objects Can be Fluid. . . . 200 Objects are Culturally Charged .................. 202 Object Study Requires Precise Methodology. 204 .. . Final Thoughts of the Study....................... 206 APPENDIX A: A STATISTICAL PORTRAIT OF THE COMMUNITY OF GRAND LEDGE AND EATON COUNTY, MICHIGAN........... 214 APPENDIX B: FIELDWORK DATA SHEET (FORM C) 223 APPENDIX C: FOLK ARTS DIVISION RESEARCH RELEASE FORM I I .................................... 226 APPENDIX D: KNOWN FOLK POTTERY M A K E R S ................ 227 APPENDIX E: INFORMANTS.................................. 229 ......... BIBLIOGRAPHY AND GENERAL REFERENCES..................... 232 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Page 1. Grand Ledge Clay Products Workers Loading Pipe Onto Hauling Trucks................... 57 2. Michigan County Map Indicating Grand Ledge. 3. Map of Grand Ledge, 1881...................... .. 61 4. Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company Float in Ooimnunity Parade, c. 1900 ...................... 70 Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company, Illustration from 1886 Grand Ledge Business Directory. . . . 73 Advertisement for Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company ................... 75 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. . . Kiln Burners at Grand Ledge Clay Products, 1923........................................... 60 78 Employees of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, 1923 ................................... 82 Fire at Grand Ledge Clay Products, 83 1937 . . . . Conduit Tile Made at Grand Ledge Clay Products....................................... 84 Workers on Strike at Grand Ledge Clay Products, 19 4 1................................ 85 12. Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, 1983 . . . . 86 13. Clay Lion, Stamped ’'Grand Ledge, Michigan". .. 88 14. Clay 1936. . . 92 15. Pulling Gang at Grand Ledge Clay Products, July 1 9 1 2 ............................ Lion Made by Tom Carter, Nov. 7, 16. Clay Lion with Scalloped B a s e ................. 102 17. Clay Lion by Fred Friend, c. 1936 .............. vii 99 103 viii Page 18. Clay Lion (Front and Side Views)...................104 19. Clay Lion by Devillo C o l e ...................... 105 20. Clay Lion by Zona Kelly, c. 1935 ................ 106 21. Clay L i o n ........................................... 107 22. Clay Lion Bank by Harry Childs, 1908............ 110 23. Clay Lion B a n k ............. 110 24. Clay Horseshoe Ashtray by Roy P o o l e .............. 115 25. Clay Mouse by Allard Poole, c. 1920 ........... 115 26. Clay Dogs by Tom Carter, c. 1935 ................ 116 27. Clay Cowboy A s h t r a y ................................ 117 28. Clay Bear by Roy Poole, c. 1930 . . . . . 29. Clay Tree Trunk Lamp Base by Harry Poole, c. 1930 .......................................... 119 Clay Tree Trunk Planter by Roy Poole, c. 1925 .......................................... 120 31. Clay Planter by Roy Poole, c. 1935.............. 121 32. Clay Water C o o l e r .................................. 122 33. Clay Figure of Abraham Lincoln..................... 123 34. Clay Figure of Jesus, c. 1950 .................. 124 35. Clay Grave Marker, Clinton County .............. 125 36. Clay Turtle by Roy Poole, c. 1935 ............ 133 37. Clay Alligator by Roy Poole, c. 1935............ 134 38. Clay Frog by Roy Poole, c. 1935 ................ 135 39. Clay Ashtray by Roy Poole, c. 1935.............. 136 40. Clay Lamp Base by Roy P o o l e ....................... 137 41. Grand Ledge Clay Products Stamp .................. 30. . 118 140 ix Page 42. Molds for Jesus Figure and Indian Head Bookends.............................................141 43. Clay Lion by Alpha Waldron, Nov. 12, 1903 . . . 145 44. Clay Lion Bookends by Fred Friend, c. 1910. . . 146 45. Clay L i o n ........................................... 148 46. Clay F a c e ........................................... 157 47. Harry Poole with Kurt Dewhurst, January 1980.............................................. 162 48. Homer Godfrey at his Farm, 1979 ................ 166 49. Clay Dog by Homer Godfrey, c. 1950.............. 169 50. Pair of Clay Cats by Homer Godfrey, c. 1950 . . 170 51. Clay Cardinal by Homer Godfrey, c. 1950 . . . . 171 52. Bruce Decke of Grand Ledge Clay Products, 1980.............................................. 173 Jim Brighton in the Molding Room, 1982......... 177 53. "You can make anything out of clay" Harry Poole x INTRODUCTION American Studies scholars tend to rely on verbal data alone in attempting to describe and analyze American cul­ ture. This approach often overlooks the contributions of Americans who were not part of what has often been termed the "world of letters." Another distinct potential source for data on American life and culture is largely overlooked — the realm of physical objects or material culture. Thomas J. Schlereth, Director of the American Studies Program at Notre Dame, in Artifacts and the American P a s t , has written of this situation, I view the study of artifacts and the Ameri­ can past as a thoroughly historical study and hence, a totally humanistic enterprise. "Great nations write their autobiographies in three manuscripts," insists Ruskin. "The book of their deeds, the book of their words, and the book of their arts. Not one of these books can be understood unless we read the two others; but, of the three, the only trustworthy one is the last." While I would certainly not claim that artifacts possess the only veracity as historical evi­ dence, I do wish to make a strong case for the potential of this largely unexamined (at least by many historians) data. Utiliz­ ing Leslie A. White's three main subdivisions of culture — material, social, and mental — I would argue that American material cul­ ture has received far less systematic atten­ tion as a field for pioneering historical research and teaching than the other tw sub­ divisions of social and mental culture. 1 2 While some American Studies scholars have developed hypotheses and approaches for the study of American mater­ ial culture, a unified snythesis for analyzing objects has not emerged in the fields of American Studies and folklore. Simon Bronner has suggested that, ’’American Studies has not yet escaped the early domination of the field by the coali­ tion of elite history and literature, and folklore study has failed to fully incorporate material culture into a 2 total culture concept." In order to fully comprehend the nature of traditional behaviors particular to Americans, the fundamental goal of American Studies and folklore research, the folklorist and American Studies scholar must have an awareness of material culture. Writers such as Daniel Boorstin, John Demos, Henry Glassie, Herbert Gutman, Michael Owen Jones, and Russel Nye have already noted the usefulness of material culture in their studies. However; in order to make folklife and material culture more inte­ gral parts of American Studies, the rationale for consider­ ing material evidence must be demonstrated. Perhaps the most frequent criticism of studies of American material folk culture is the alleged lack of a theoretical basis. This response has come primarily from those scholars who mistrust or underestimate the value of artifactual research to American folk studies. Essential to the advancement of existing scholarship in the objectoriented study of American folklife and American Studies, and the placement of that study in the perspective of 3 folkloristics is an understanding of the concepts — those fundamental ideas that represent the purposes and methods of study — particular to material research. Among the conceptual approaches that must be considered are the fol­ lowing: historical reconstruction, functionalism, symbol­ ism, structuralism, behavioralism, and aesthetics. The various approaches reflect the diverse goals and methods of researchers from different disciplines. Material cul­ ture study has a foundation of theories and methods on which to continue to build. In combination with the oral, gestural, written, and customary traditions — material culture study can be merged as a source for the understand­ ing of American folklife and the larger realm of American culture. Ob.iect Making and Ob.iect Use Man as object maker in America has differed throughout history in the products of his labor but not in the capa­ bility to make objects. Native Americans and all those who settled and participated in the American experience contri­ buted to the body of work recognized today as material cul­ ture. Even the Puritans, despite their concern for the potential evil influence of a r t , have produced a material cultural heritage. Colonial New England has long been characterized as having been influenced by a Puritan reli­ gious aesthetic that fostered a "plain style."3 This "plain style" emphasized functionality and simplicity in 4 the cultural life of the people and was advocated by promi­ nent and persuasive leaders, such as Cotton Mather who advised, "Let not what should be sauce, rather than food 4 for you engross all your application." The American his­ torian Perry Miller has written of the Puritan's desire to use art to reinforce the restraint and order that the 5 Puritan morphology of conversion imposed on their lives. However, the human desire to create ideas, speech, move­ ment, music — or ob.iects has resulted in a vast body of material culture that reflects the beliefs, values and cus­ toms of those who produced or used the objects. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Eugene Rochberg-Halton have expressed man's capability to create objects in this passage: Humans display the intriguing characteristic of making and using objects. The things with which people interact are not simply tools for survival, or for making survival easier and more comfortable. Things embody goals, make skills manifest, and shape the identities of their users. Man is not only homo sapiens or homo indens, he is also homo faber, the maker and user of objects, his self to a large extent a reflection of things with which he interacts. Thus objects also make and use their makers and users. To understand what people are and what they might become, one must understand what goes on between people and things. What things are cherished, and why, should be part of our knowledge of human beings. Yet it is surprising how little we know about what things mean to people. By and large, social scientists have neglected a full investi­ gation of the relationship between people and objects. 5 The material folk culture study conducted in Grand Ledge serves as a case study that relies upon a synthesis of the approaches employed by various disciplines that have addressed material culture study. This undertaking has been designed to explore the values of the related concep­ tual approaches of these various disciplines as they are applied to a body of data. The collection and documenta­ tion of examples of pottery and the many interviews and fieldwork experience serve as the data base for this study. The study has been organized to first present in Chapter I an overview of the dominant academic approaches to the study of material folk culture and the underlying concepts of these approaches. Included in this chapter is the proposed model of investigation utilized in Grand Ledge. The model chosen relies heavily on a synthesis of the concepts developed by material culture scholars. While the proponents of each of those often divergent approaches are at odds with one another, it is possible to borrow key principles to formulate strategies for examining material folk culture. Chapter II summarizes the methodology of this case study. The role of first-hand documentation in folklore fieldwork will be presented. The discussion of the method­ ology and proposed framework for analyzing the data col­ lected appears in this chapter. A brief description of the circumstances surrounding this study since its inception 6 also is offered as an explanation for the development of this study. Chapter III provides the historical and geographical background of the community of Grand Ledge. Attention focuses on the early role of pottery-making in Grand Ledge. Profiles of the early potteries and the development of the later industrial potteries appears in this chapter. The operative approach taken in this chapter is historical reconstruction as an explanation of the pottery past of Grand Ledge. In Chapter IV, the pottery-making tradition of the worker at Grand Ledge industrial potteries is examined. The nature of pottery-making as a folk activity is con­ sidered from a technical process, an index of functionalism at work in a material culture tradition, and lastly, an indicator of material culture as a purveyor of symbolic meaning for makers and users alike in Grand Ledge, Michigan. The relationship between the pottery-makers and the com­ munity at large is also explored in this chapter. Chapter V provides a view of the attitudes of workers toward their work and folk art, the work situation, exper­ iences as participants in a folk pottery tradition, and their motivations through brief biographical portraits of the potters and selected users of pottery in the community. A summary of the examples of material folk culture col­ lected and documented in Grand Ledge and a compilation of the informants for this study appear in this chapter. 7 The concluding chapter, Chapter VI, is devoted to an evaluation of the study and the related interpretative questions. As an outcome of the study, eight primary pre­ mises of material culture study are identified in this chapter. These premises provide a model theoretical frame­ work for material folk culture study. In addition, the Grand Ledge folk pottery tradition is evaluated as an indi­ cator of folklife in America and a phenomenon that has implications for American Studies and folklore scholarship. Throughout this study, the term material culture is used according to this definition formulated by Herman Herskovits: Material culture can be considered to be the totality of artifacts in a culture, the vast universe of objects used by human kind to cope with the physical world, to facili­ tate human intercourse to delight-our fancy, and to create symbols of meaning. The terms folk art and folk arts also appear throughout this study. The singular term folk art generally refers to material culture or visual art. Folk arts has been gener­ ally used to describe a broad range of art activities including performing and visual arts. been used frequently by writers, While each term has a preferred term utilized in this study to describe folkloric material culture or folk objects is material folk culture. Introduction Footnotes 1Thomas J. Schlereth, Artifacts of the American Past (Nashville: American Association for State and Local History, 1980), p. 3. O Simon J. Bronner, "Chain Carvers in Southern Indiana: A Behavioristic Study in Material Culture" (Ph.D. disserta­ tion, Indiana University, 1981), p. 3. See Perry Miller and Thomas H. Johnson, (New The Puritans York: Harper and Row, 1963), p. 70. ^Cotton Mather, "Of Poetry and Style" in The Puritans, ed.Perry Miller and Thomas J. Johnson, p. 686. 5 Perry Miller and Thomas H. Johnson, The Puritans. p. 62. ®Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Eugene Rochberg-Halton, The Meaning of Things: Domestic Symbols and the Self (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), p. 1. Herman Herskovits, Cultural Anthropology (New York: A. A. Knopf, 1963), p. 119. 8 CHAPTER I THE STUDY OF MATERIAL FOLK CULTURE STUDY Even before the word "folklife" entered the vocabulary of American folklorists, there were a considerable number of what might be termed folklife studies done from the point of view of art history in the United States and centering on folk crafts and arts. Even now, some art historians continue to use the terra "folk art" in a special sense. An important task of American folklife research, then, is to locate, evaluate, and synthesize these studies in order to establish a criti­ cal bibliography for the field and to deter­ mine what genuinely traditional material has described. American Studies has been defined in the simplest generic terms as a field of "teaching, researching, writ­ ing and publication done by individuals who seek to inter­ pret the American cultural experience in order to under­ stand its historical development, literary expressions, artistic and material manifestations, and present configurations." o This chapter will attempt to summarize the primary academic approaches to the study of material folk culture and the underlying concepts of these approaches. While often at odds with each other, proponents of these approaches often borrow from one another in the formulation of strategies for examining the nature of material folk 9 10 culture. In the course of this chapter, those approaches will be evaluated and the selected approach of the case study will be presented. The relationship between American Studies and material folk culture study reveals strong similarities in their development and current status. The following description of American Studies given by one writer could just as easily have been applied to material folk culture study: ''highly pluralistic — pluralistic in methods, techniques, 3 and purpose." A shared approach to problem solving resulting in an interdisciplinary framework has been the cornerstone of the American Studies movement. Similarly, joint approaches have been employed by scholars in areas such as material culture study. Thomas J. Schlereth has written of contemporary American Studies in an article entitled, "American Studies and American Things": The second s in American Studies immediately tells one a great deal about the discipline's multiple history, theory, and practice. The exploration of the historical and methodo­ logical development of the American Studies movement is organized around three sets of disciplinary foci: literature and history, the arts and sciences, and folklore and his­ torical archaeology. These disciplines have influenced the evolution of the American Studies movement in three distinct chrono­ logical eras: (a) pre-1950; (b) 1950-1970; and (c) 1970 to present. While the impact of each of these disciplines may have been felt to a greater extent at a particular time, as Schlereth suggests, all three of these disciplines (and some related 11 fields) continue to examine the same objects, art, and related data. To more fully understand the values ascribed to mater­ ial folk culture, one must become further acquainted with the primary disciplines that have chosen to incorporate the study of material folk culture (folk art, folk crafts) under their own investigative umbrellas. Perhaps a more basic distinction between the academic disciplines that have treated material folk culture is in order than the three sets of disciplinary foci that Schlereth identifies. In keeping with this notion, one can identify two separate bodies of scholarship: art historians, the humanities — represented by aestheticians, folklorists, and historians; and the social sciences — represented best by cultural anthropologists, historical archaeologists and folklorists. It is worth noting that folklorists appear in both groups as some find their academic "homes11 in English departments while others are at home in anthropology departments on 5 university campuses. The Humanities and Material Folk Culture Study The earliest collecting of material culture — art — folk in America took place in antique shops, barns, and in the auction place during the 1920s and 1930s. This activity resulted from a value that was attached to the pleasing aesthetic elements of the objects collected. Much 12 of the early scholarship that accompanied the initial exhibitions of American folk art at New York art galleries and museums in the 1920s and 1930s stressed the aesthetic g appeal of folk art to the uninitiated. The oft-quoted words of Holger Cahill in the 1932 exhibition catalog entitled American Folk Art: The Art of the Common Man in America. 1750-1900. demonstrate this appeal: "Folk art" is the most nearly exact term so far used to describe this material . . . The work of these men is folk art because it is the expression of common people, made by them and intended for their use and enjoyment. It is not the expression of pro­ fessional artists made for a small cultured class, and it has little to do with the fashionable art of the period. It does not come out of an academic tradition passed on by schools, but out of a craft tradition plus the personal quality of the rare crafts­ man who is an artist. These comments reflect a decidedly romantic view of folk art as a manifestation of a , s impler and purer form of Q expression that is peculiar to the "common man." However, this perspective is not only in itself naive, but also has dominated the view of many folk art collectors and scho­ lars. This perception was shared by American artists such as Robert Laurent, Wood Gaylor, Marsden Hartley, Stephan Hirsch, Bernard Karfiol, Yasuo Kuniyoshi, Niles Spencer, and William Zorach — all members of the Ogunquit School of g Painting and Sculpture at Ogunquit, Maine in 1913. The enthusiasm of this group for folk art led to the later involvement of Charles Sheeler, Elie Nadelman and other 13 New York artists. As a result of the persuasive attitude of influential artists who collected folk paintings, carv­ ings, sculptures, utilitarian objects, and textiles, there developed an audience and a market for the particular style of the "folk art object." Today, that aesthetic perspec­ tive has been widely acknowledged by the general public and is readily apparent in the pages of popular magazines, such as Better Homes and Gardens and Architectural D i g e s t , which feature folk art objects as contemporary decorative items.10 Despite the popularization of American material folk culture as a decorative trend, art historians continue to identify, research, and exhibit folk objects that incor­ porate a combination of aesthetic values that set them "above" other folk art objects in the same medium, style, or hand of a given artist. American museums, acknowledging these values and realizing the parallel relationship of folk arts with the fine arts, have accorded folk art a place in their permanent collections of American art. In her book, Provocative Parallels. Jean Lipman compares examples of folk art with visually similar examples of fine art. She points out that "serendipity" played a major role in the parallels and adds: One must not, however, imagine an evolutionary line from one to the other; it is important to remember that even in the most striking analogies the differences of intention are as significant as the obvious relationship . . . However, after this warning, we can conclude by stating that the sense of kinship between folk art and contemporary art seems 14 to be strongly felt and expressed, both by people involved in the folk art field and by vanguard artists. It now seems clear that the kind of abstraction that twentieth cen­ tury sophisticates achieved by deliberately unlearning or ignoring their acquired tech­ niques was intuitively created by the naives, whose technical limitations made way for ^ uninhibited expression in terms of design. Some art historians have chosen to formally recognize folk art as the early American art. The influence of Holger Cahill's view of folk art has had a lasting effect. In his view, folk art was "the work of simple people with no academic training and little book learning in art . . . this kind of [art] comes out of a tradition of craftsman­ ship rather than out of an academic tradition passed on by schools, and in this sense it is similar to old masters." 12 Since the above statement was first expressed in the cata­ logue for an exhibition entitled "American Primitives" at the Newark Museum in 1930, many art historians and museum curators have documented and exhibited folk art as a signicant part of American art history. Some art historians have gone so far as to suggest that because America had so many self-taught artists — and that many of America's best artists were self-taught — due to the lack of art schools and formal training, America had a tremendous wealth of folk art. 13 Lloyd Goodrich, former director of the Whitney Museum of American Art in an introduction to an exhibit entitled "What is American in American Art" (1961) consequently drew the following conclusion: "Hence 15 early America had a larger proportion of folk art than Europe, and this remained true well into the 19th century. Created directly by innate talent out of local content, folk art contained the essence of native flavor on a popu­ lar level. Since 1961, the Whitney Museum has carried on the com­ mitment to present American folk art as the formative influence on the development of American art. In 1974, the Whitney mounted a major exhibit entitled "The Flowering of American Folk Art 1776-1876." Alice Winchester, the former editor of Antiques Magazine summarized the development of interest in American folk art since the 1920s in this pas­ sage from the introduction to exhibition catalogue: The interest in American folk art has increased steadily for over fifty years, and it is keener and more widespread today than ever before. The main emphasis continues to be on the painting and sculpture, while minor fashions come and go in this art as in any other: now and then a specific category, such as quilts or painted furniture, enjoys a burst of popularity sparked by an exhibi­ tion or a new book. Each discovery helps to expand the whole field and brings out fasci­ nating relationships between one aspect and another. Research continues to give iden­ tity to anonymous folk artists, and it tends increasingly not merely to supply names and dates but to interpret the social setting and the intellectual climate in which Ameri­ can folk art flowered. The artisan tradition discernible in all folk art is perhaps its chief unifying char­ acteristic, but it is the eye of the artist directing the hand of the craftsman that gives it esthetic validity. The works gathered here [in the exhibit] demonstrate the heights American folk art could achieve in all its amazingly varied forms. They 16 represent the unconventional side of the American tradition in the fine arts: yet they are an integral part of that tradition, as they have always been an integral part of American life. The Whitney Museum has continued the attempt to secure a place for American folk art in the art history of America. Another major Whitney exhibition of American sculpture entitled "200 Years of American Sculpture," (1976) included an entire gallery devoted to the contributions of folk sculptors to American art history. The curator wrote of the contribution of these folk sculptors, "As the expres­ sions of the people of this country in the 18th and 19th centuries, it surpasses the arts based on foreign tradition which were superimposed upon our developing cultural heri“I f l tage." This trend of placing folk art in the broader chronology of American art history continued at the Whitney into the 1980s when an exhibit entitled "American Folk Painters of Three Centuries" opened. Thomas Armstrong, Director of the Whitney Museum, wrote in the catalogue for this show: The American folk artist intrigued people searching for the backbone of our visual arts, but in the absence of biographical information, the folk artist became the sub­ ject of myths derived from speculation about the objects produced . . . These initial attitudes toward folk art deter­ mined the position that the folk artist has occupied in American art history . . . As a result, folk art has been largely ignored as a serious aspect of American art history. This gap in the study of the visual arts in this country is being reversed by public enthusiasm, but more17 scholarly study and insight are needed. 17 Of course, other institutions and individuals beyond the Whitney Museum have contributed to scholarly activity on folk art. Art historians such as Daniel Robbins have written perceptively on the folk art phenomenon as it related to American art history: One of the most important aspects of the acceptance of modern art in the United States is the very special place within it that was assumed by American folk art. This has to do with the internal collapse of what had, up until the arrival of modern art, been regarded as high art. In view of this sudden floundering of values, a need developed to discover a tradition out of which one might explain the emergent triumphs of a new high art: modernism. This was the role thrust upon folk art. It furnished, almost over­ night , an unbroken American tradition with a clear relationship to what was being done by leading American artists in the early thir,t i e s . 8 While the scholarly debate continues regarding the proper place of American folk art in American art history, the art historians' argument rests on the aesthetic values/proper­ ties found in folk art. Only rarely are the cultural/ historical values considered in the analysis. Thus, in the simplest terms, art historians have been more interested in the art in folk art than the folk. In contrast to art historians, folklorists have been concerned primarily with the term folk in folk art. Folk­ lorists generally contend that while the viewer can find aesthetic principles and values in folk art that conform to the values of the academically trained artists, such a view often inverts the original intention and expression of the 18 folk artist. Barry Toelken, a folklorist, in an essay entitled, "In the Stream of Life," (1980) passionately pleads for a fuller understanding of folk art as a complex cultural phenomenon: Folk art, of whatever genre, is not the uninspired or naive production of items that might have been done better had the artisan only been properly trained. It is not the humble outpouring of rural, backward, or underdeveloped genius, nor is it the coin­ cidentally attractive making of practical items by people unawares of what they are doing. Rather, folk artists are likely to be fiercely aware of what is good and beaut­ iful in their areas of expression, and even more aware of what their community will think about it. The folk artist is usually guided by a sense of community aesthetic which is often unspoken because it is so functional, not intellectualized; he or she may also subscribe to a sense of decorum which prevents bragging and discourages the overarticulation of the obvious. Toelken's words remind one that to discover fully the meanings that reside in all material folk culture one must begin by coming to understand the culture itself. To embark on such an investigatory journey, one must not only have a grasp of customs, beliefs, language, and physical context but, perhaps most importantly, also know what ques­ tions to ask. visual Only then can one transcend the initial appeal of an object and understand the process involved in its creation and use. engaged in just this activity — Folklorists have been identifying what questions to ask of the informant/tradition bearer. Hand in hand with the art historians' and the folk­ lorists' appreciation of material folk culture is the 19 appreciation of the object by the historian. Jones, in an article entitled, Louis C. "The Genre in American Folk Art," states, The importance of a particular folk-genre piece may be greater as a document than as a work of art and it should be recognized as a supplement to the written word, as an his­ torical source. All social history is weak when it comes to the habits, work, dress, attitudes, play, and religious life of the lower classes in anv sogjety and this is very true of Americans. Historians have been quick to recognize the potential of material folk culture as a "supplement to the written word" and they have attempted to reassemble a particular place in time utilizing material culture evidence. In Michigan, for example, folk objects produced in lumber camps have pro­ vided evidence of the nature of life in such camps during the lumber boom years. The subjects depicted and even the very media employed by folk artists can provide clues for the historian concerned with man's attitudes toward himself and his community, as well as the persistence of tradi­ tional cultural life and the pervasiveness of technological influences in a certain location and among a particular people. Other disciplines within the humanities have contri­ buted to material folk culture study. Linguistics, reli­ gious studies, philosophy and literature have all, at times, explored the potential of objects as sources of new information or substantiation of hypotheses. 21 In addi­ tion, academic disciplines such as American Studies have 20 attempted to develop interdisciplinary ways of understand­ ing the American cultural experience. The Social Sciences and Material Folk Culture Study The fields of anthropology and folklore have been especially instrumental in providing the scientific method­ ology for the study of the folk object as an outgrowth of the communal context in which it was produced and used. Cultural anthropology has been based on the principle of cultural relativism, which contends that no one level or part of a particular culture is more important than any ■ other. This has led to an appreciation of areas of material folk culture which had long been regarded by other disciplines as unworthy of critical inquiry. Alan Dundes, a folklorist, has described folklore by first defining "folk11 as "any group of people whatsoever who share at least one common factor." He defines "lore" in terms of origin, form, transmission, and function. "It would appear that folklore is transmitted from individual to individual, often directly by word or act, but sometimes indirectly, as when a folk artist copies a traditional design from the finished product of another artist with whom he may have had little or no contact." 23 The folklorist, then, attempts to focus on the living process of which the folk art object is but a part. Hence, the folk object with the greatest value for the folklorist — pologist — and cultural anthro­ embodies the cultural context in which it was 21 made and synthesizes the communal values held through time. One cannot generalize that the perspectives of folklorists and cultural anthropologists are identical. However, William R. Bascom has pointed out that, M0f the four branches of anthropology, cultural anthropology, which is also referred to as social anthropology, ethnology or ethnography, is most closely associated with folklore — the study of customs, traditions, and institutions of liv24 ing peoples.11 The underlying assumptions that folklor­ ists and cultural anthropologists share about material folk culture is that objects made either consciously or unconsciously reflect the belief systems (ideas, values, attitudes and communal assumptions) of the maker or user. Thus, the maker and user (in the context of creation and functional use of the object) become the primary sources of data for answering the questions of the significance of the object of material folk culture. In an effort to achieve a deeper understanding of a particular folk object, folklorists have stressed the belief that the life of the folk artist shapes the folk object. In addition, folklorists recognize that the folk object has a life span beyond the artist. The opportunity to connect objects to the artist as caretaker of a commun­ ity folk aesthetic is central to expanding understanding. William Ferris, in an essay entitled, "Local Color: Memory and Sense of Place in Folk A r t ,"in Made bv Hand. Mississippi Folk A r t . wrote of this approach: 22 The life and work of a folk artist must be considered together because each deepens our understanding of the other. Artists' voices are an important counterpart to their art, and as they weave our thoughts with their own, we unfold a closer sense of their vis­ ion and allay [their] fear that [their] work may be interpreted-apart from the vision that inspired it. Yet another approach to the study of folk art revolves around the ability to reconstruct the way in which the object originated, and how it functioned, through time. Indeed, in cases where nothing is known about the age or context, that may be the only option open. Such an approach must seek to answer three basic questions: (1) Can the object be identified as the product of a folk group? (2) Was there a distinct pattern of transmission of expressions, behaviors, and forms that were primarily learned informally and conveyed orally? (3) Was there a clearly identifiable traditional community aesthetic that governed this process of folk expression? If these ques­ tions are answered in the affirmative, the folklorist can then go on to draw conclusions as to whether the object is truly material folk culture. The Conflict: The Art. The Artists, and The Context The previous discussion of the various academic disci­ plines and their approaches to material folk culture reveal some distinct differences as well as some subtle variants of interpretation. The central conflict in arriving at the essence of what constitutes material folk culture [folk 23 art] involves opposing points of view about the very nature of art itself. scholars’ minds: 26 Two questions have long occupied (1) What is art? and (2) What constitutes the ’’art of our times?" The twentieth century has brought with it an expanding definition of those activities known as art. Attitudes toward art in this century have allowed for more emphasis on unique solutions to problems. The professional art community embraced American folk art pre­ cisely because of its seemingly unique or individualized solutions to problems at a time when the impact of modern­ ism on art was first truly being felt — the 1920s. Con­ cern for naturalism, painterly efect, and observance of traditional academic tenets were all being challenged, and no clearly definitive rules were offered in their stead. As exciting as this period was for the art community, it was at the same time disconcerting for those who sought order and pattern. Artists, art historians, and critics alike recognized potentially new aesthetic solutions in American folk art and brought them to the attention of the populace. The ideological emphasis on the contribution of the single artist as interpreter of reality became a widely recognized phenomenon. Folk art, with its perceived qualities of "vigor, honesty, inventiveness, imagination, and a strong sense of design," as stressed by Holger Cahill, regarded as the product of the common man. 27 was Hence, what transpired was the formulation of a posture by artists, art historians, and critics that was consistent with the 24 manner in which the material was initially randomly col­ lected and exhibited by the art community in America — with little regard for pattern or tradition. While the art community was actively engaged in plac­ ing newly-recognized American folk art in the continuum of objects regarded as art, the folklorists and anthropolo­ gists were adamantly refusing to acknowledge the use of the term "folk art" to be applied to what many of them considered crude or eccentric artistic expression that were unrelated to any concept of folk. Clearly, the overwhelm­ ing appeal to the art community was the art in folk a r t , whereas the social scientists held that the concept of folk was a necessary condition of the very existence of folk art. The theoretical foundations set forth in the discus­ sion of primitive art by anthropologists spoke directly to the matter of what primitive art was — art was not primitive a r t . and clearly folk Paul Wingert in Primitive Art has written that, "primtive art is basically a mature form but within the contexts of man's own beliefs, institutions, and technologies." 28 In regard to those artists with little formal academic training who are called folk or primitive artists, Wingert writes, Here the terra characterizes artists who have not received professional training and who paint with a personal, naive quality in their mode of representation and interpreta­ tion of subject matter . . . Their manner of painting is not akin to the traditional, academic or avante-garde styles of their day. It is in fact, a unique and highly 25 personalized, untutored art expression. This is not any early phase within a histor­ ical development but is a sport, in the bio­ logical sense of the word, that is, a spon­ taneous deviation from the norm. Used in this connection, primitive means the untrained, the naive, and the non-conform­ ist art. This has nothing to do with the first examples of this term (primitive art) with an early chronological period . . . Primitive art is therefore not a free, uncontrolled and untutored creation . . . In primitive cultures the production of art was heavily influenced by a vigorous adher­ ence to tradition, which necessarily results in the growth of strong conservatism. Here one sees dramatically that the very attributes of folk art that are praised by the art community, who view it as "a unique and highly personalized, untutored art expression," 30 are precisely the evidence,sufficient for its dismissal as a folk art form by anthropologists, historical archaeologists, folklorists and many art historians. To further grasp the opposing positions on the defini­ tion of folk art, it is useful to understand the crucial concept of context and its relationship to art. In 1877, Hippolyte Taine in History of English Literature was among the first to write of the influence of cultural context on art when he wrote, "a work of art is determined by an aggregate which is the general mind and surrounding circurastances." 31 Simple by today's standards, this observation was a forerunner of an increasing interest in context. with the acknowledgement of "cultural relativism" as the active principle in social science inquiry. The impor­ tance of context was to challenge the prevailing 26 preoccupation of art critics and historians with formal analysis. One aesthetician has acknowledged that, "In aesthetics we are inclined to conceive of the work of art as an isolated object, as if the social setting for which it is created and in which it is presented were merely accidental. To counter this position, social science disciplines have focused on the context from which the folk object has evolved. Social scientists hold that the object can be fully appreciated only in relation to the whole living pro­ cess of man and man's patterns of origin, form, transmis­ sion, and function (as well as symbolic meaning). Thus the folk object is but a product of man in a particular place in time. In acknowledging the social scientist's emphasis on context rather than isolated expression, one comes to recognize that, as K. Mitchells has written, "The issue of social setting and aesthetic isolation has become a major problem in the arts through their growing detachment from social life in modern times." 33 Obviously, the degree of commitment to these positions varies within both the art community, the humanities and the social sciences. However, there has been some recog­ nition of these diverse positions. This has led to some cooperation, and subsequently, mutual advances in fields such as American Studies. icle entitled, has written, 34 P. Graeme Chalmers, in an art­ "The Study of Art in a Cultural Context," "In recent years [there has been] a growing 27 realization among art historians that the environment of a given period can be portrayed in an effective relationship to the arts of the time.” 35 Meanwhile, he points out that art has still been neglected by social scientists and that one author blames social scientists for their "intel­ lectual or rational approach toward life," "their dis­ inclination toward value judgements," and the "common error that art is a matter of divine revelation and spontaneous inspiration." 36 Chalmers concludes that, "A major diffi­ culty encountered in the study of art in society is that nearly all judgements depend on a variety of individual . . .... . . 37, points of view and are thus primarily subjective." Such subjective distinctions in rendering judgements are widely acknowledged by those in the art community, and standards have been defined on the basis of aesthetic content and elements. Although those in the social sciences frequently avoid subjective judgements, those in the humanities — especially in the arts — welcome the opportunity to make such judgements as part and parcel of their appointed scholarly task. The community of scholars within the humanities relies on concurring opinions to determine the validity of an art form or art object. 38 These individual judgements confer aesthetic worth, and when an overwhelm­ ing number of voices render an appraisal of significant merit, it is believed to be reasonable to assume that such merit does exist. 28 Basic Conceptual Approaches to Material Folk Culture Scholarship In recent years, attempts have been made to effec­ tively categorize concepts of material culture study. Relying on separate schools of thought, these attempts have labelled categories of inquiry — often illustrating each with the work of the leading scholar utilizing this conceptual approach. as follows: struction; ics; The conceptual models are primarily (1) cultural geography; (3) functionalism; (2) historical recon­ (4) symbolism; (5) aesthet- (6) structuralism; and (7) behavioralism. 39 While no one model will be followed for this study, it is instructive to consider material folk culture from each of these perspectives. It has been noted by Michael Owen Jones that these categories usually mix ’’principles of research objective (i.e., historical reconstruction), dis­ ciplinary affiliation (cultural geography) and schools of analysis (structuralism, ism)." 40 functionalism, and behavioral- Nevertheless, a brief description of each of these approaches is worth considering. 1. Historical reconstruction: This approach relies on the persistent character of tradition in the attempt to literally reconstruct a particular place in time. By com­ bining fieldwork with the collection of material culture, practitioners strive to replicate the traditional patterns of life of the past. Simon Bronner has suggested that this approach is most commonly practiced by museum curators and 29 that it has developed as a response to the Great Man theory of history — 2. as everyday activities of life are stressed.4^ Cultural geography: This approach is closely tied to the determinist theories of cultural geographers who contend that cultural features diffuse as they are stretched over geographical space. Thus material folk cul­ ture, while particularly connected to local community values, loses its power and character as it moves from its cultural center or base. Through both environmental and human cultural factors, material folk culture changes over space not so much over time. 3. Functionalism: 42 This approach attempts to under­ stand why a particular folk object is of functional value to a people at a particular place in time. The functional value or usefulness is perceived to be linked to a tradi­ tional pattern of successful use in an appropriate environ­ ment. The local context provides the background for the interpretation of the object. 4. speak. Symbolism: 43 This approach assumes that objects Objects are believed to convey beliefs or have a higher level of functional meaning that needs to be decoded by studying the makers and users of the object. From religious objects to a particular house form, objects are perceived to be transmitters of abstract psychological and sociological messages.44 5. Aesthetic Th e ory: This approach stresses the interaction of the object with its audience as a primary 30 basis of analysis. The power and sincerity of the object as it affects the community audience becomes the focus of study. The "infectiousness" of the art experience is examined and the artistic reaction is measured as an indi­ cator of the "taste" of either the individual or social grouping. 6. 45 Structuralism: the object. Attention is given to the form of The practitioner attempts to understand why the form emerged by studying the maker, user, and context of the material culture. The objective is to determine what factors, including unconscious psychic patterning, •■■■■■ 4 g •■■■■■■■ ■ influence the final form of the object. 7. Behavioralism: This approach stresses the study of the life and activity of the object-maker. Practition­ ers attempt to understand the motivations of the objectmaker. The psychological character of the object-maker is studied and compared to other makers to understand more fully human consistencies and recurring patterns of beha­ vior.47 In an attempt to provide a more meaningful framework to understand both the past scholarship on material folk culture as well as emerging trends in scholarship, Michael Owen Jones has recently proposed a new model. This model was developed to: . . . identify various and changing con­ ceptions of the data and then match research questions to these fundamental notions: 31 1. folk art as a survival/and an index of historical processes 2. folk art as an aesthetic phenomenon/and as an index of human capability 3. folk art as an element of culture/and an index of socio-cultural processes 4. folk art as personal expression/and an index of psychological states and pro­ cesses 5. folk art as a behavioral phenomenon/and an index of cognitive and interactional processes 6. folk art as a symptom of social problems/ and a model for action Jones has stressed that ’’these six categories are parallel, employing the same set of principles. In each category there is first a conception of the data base; this is fol­ lowed by an indication of the framework in which questions are posted." 4Q This particular model enables the researcher to gather the appropriate data base for more than one category and then pose the appropriate questions for more than one category. This approach has been employed for the case study of the Grand Ledge Folk Pottery Tradition and some conclusions can be drawn regarding each of these six general categories. Material Folk Culture Study: An Integrated Selected Approach Describing the creative process, John F. A. Taylor in Design and Expression in the Visual Arts wrote, ’’Art is a doing — an acting doing, not a passive dumb arrest." 50 All art, whether of the folk, popular, of fine (elite) 32 variety, is the result of the organized behavior of man. Therefore, one should not consider material folk culture as a mere reflection of human behavior, one should realize that it is, in fact, part of human behavior. Thus a full understanding of the objects should help one see how people at a particular place in time responded to the various circumstances of their lives. The probing for a deeper meaning in a folk object can best be realized by understanding that the life of the folk artist shapes the folk object; and that the folk object has a life span beyond the artist. It is the inten­ tion of this study to communicate an awareness of both dimensions, presenting, where possible, an account of the experiences that shaped the lives of the folk artists whose art is examined in this study. Such opportunities to connect objects to the artist as caretaker of a community folk aesthetic are central to exapnding understanding of folk art. In 1927, Franz Boas, in Primitive A r t . wrote of the need to carefully study the artist and the artist’s connection to his community. Boas proposed the following course for scholarship: We have to turn our attention first of all to the artist himself . . . Unfortunately, observations on this subject are very rare and unsatisfactory for it requires an inti­ mate knowledge of the people to understand the innermost thoughts and feelings of the artist. Even with thorough knowledge the problem is exceedingly difficult, for the mental processes of artistic production do not take place in the full light of conscious­ ness. 33 Another complementary approach to material folk cul­ ture analysis has relevance to the model employed in this study. This approach revolves around the ability to recon­ struct the way in which the object originated, functioned, and continues to function today. Indeed, in cases where nothing is known about the age or context, that may be the only option open. Such an approach must seek to answer three basic questions: (1) Can the object be identified as the product of a folk group? (2) Was there a distinct pat­ tern of transmission of expressions, behaviors, and forms that were primarily learned informally and conveyed orally? (3) Was there a clearly identifiable traditional community aesthetic that governed this process of folk expression? If these questions are answered in the affirmative, one can go on to draw conclusions as to whether the object is truly folk art. However, where possible, folklorists attempt to build upon more generalized notions of folk craftsmanship to establish operative definitions of folk artistry. In an article entitled, "Mr. Westfall's Baskets: Traditional Craftsmanship in Northcentral Missouri," Howard Wight Marshall has employed the criteria for traditional country craftsmanship established by folklorist J. Geraint Jenkins. Although biased in favor of rural folk artistry, they do convey the folklorist's concern for utility, con­ servative techniques, and operative tradition; 34 1. The craftsman is able to marry beauty and utility, combining good taste and use­ fulness. 2. The true craftsman does not depend on com­ plex machinery and equipment to complete his work. 3. The true craftsman is not only able to work in an ancient tradition, but he is able to build on the foundation of his­ tory. The pas^ provides a solid basis for his work. Appreciation for these traditional cultural values has been a strong guiding force in this study. The consideration of how a folk object continues to function today requires an alternative approach. tional folklore fieldwork can record: Conven­ first, how an object is used today, comparing it to past usage (often relying on historical reconstruction of the earlier con­ text); second, how an object form has varied or has been retained; and third, what changes have occurred in the con­ text of its place of origin. All of this information is valuable and necessary for the student of folk culture. However, a new approach now being advocated by folklorists goes much further by exploring the full life cycle of the folk object. approach. 53 The study undertaken here relies on this These folklorists suggest that the study of the m a k e r ’s motiviation, the m a k e r ’s rewards, and the intended uses of the object can reveal much about the man as objectmaker/object-user. Simon Bronner has written this approach: By studying material aspects of American folk culture in terms of human behavior as 35 it relates to experiences, researchers can avoid the methodological pitfalls of con­ sidering artifacts and cultures as insular entities. Instead, they begin to evaluate the human element in the processes asso­ ciated with creating objects; they can evaluate the reifications of personal identities and the manipulations of crea­ tive expressions. We may thus effectively gain insight into the diverse nature of human conduc£4and communication, motivation and meaning. It is the basic premise of this study that a researcher may probe the early life of a folk object by exploring the creative experience of the maker of a functionally equiva­ lent object today. One may find that today's owner of a piece of pottery, a decoy or a quilt may have retired his pot to a china cabinet, places his decoy on a mantlepiece, or hangs her quilt as a wall hanging and thereby alter its original function. This new treatment of and attitude toward folk objects can tell us much both about the char­ acter of human experience and about the life cycle of the folk object. Clearly, there is still much to be learned from the potter, decoy-maker and quilter — as tradition bearer, even if the folk objects he continues to make do not conform to the "pure" folk processes of a past time and context. This added perspective to conventional folk- loric analysis can lead to a significant new body of know­ ledge for those interested in folk art as a creative pro­ cess. Such a perspective fully acknowledges that "art is a doing."55 Chapter I Footnotes ^Jan Harold Brunvand, The Study of American Folklore (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1968, 1978), p. 319. O Thomas J. Schlereth, "American Studies and American Things," Pioneer America. Vol. 14 (July 1982), No. 2, p. 3. 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid. 5See Marsha MacDowell, "Folk Art Study in Higher Educa­ tion in the United States" (Ph.D. dissertation, Michigan State University, 1982). 3 See Holger Cahill, American Folk A r t : The Art of the Common Man in America. 1750-1900. exhibition catalogue (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1932). 7 Ibid., p. 6. 8 Holger Cahill utilized the term common man exten­ sively during the 1930s when folk art was popularized. ^Holger Cahill, American Folk Art: The Art of the Common Man in America. 1750-1900. pp. 26-27. *3See C. Kurt Dewhurst and Marsha MacDowell, "Folk Art and the Marketplace," paper presented at American Folklore Society meeting, 1983. ■^Jean Lipman, Provocative Parallels (New York: Dutton Co., Inc., 1975), pp. 9-10. 36 E. P. 37 12 Holger Cahill, American Primitives, exhibition cata­ logue (Newark, N.J.: 13 Newark Museum, 1931), pp. 7-8. See Lloyd Goodrich, What is A r t ? .exhibition catalogue (New York: American in American Whitney Museum, 1961), p. 13. 14Ibid. 15 Alice Winchester, "Introduction," in The Flowering of American Folk Art. 1776-1876. exhibition catalogue, ed. Jean Lipman and Alice Winchester (New York: Museum, 16 1974), p. 14. Thomas Armstrong, (New York: 17 Whitney 200 Years Whitney Museum, 1976), of American Sculpture p. 109. Thomas Armstrong, American Folk Painters of Three Centuries, exhibition catalogue (New York: Whitney Museum, 1980), p. 8. *®Daniel Robbins, "Folk Sculpture Without Folk," in Folk Sculpture U S A , ed. Herbert W. Hemphill, Jr. (Brooklyn: Brooklyn Museum, 1976), p. 19. ■^Barre Toelken, "In the Stream of Life," in Webfoots and Bunchgrassers: Folk Art of the Oregon Country, ed. Suzi Jones (Salem: 20 Oregon Arts Commission, 1980), p. 9. Louis C. Jones, "The Genre in American Folk Art," in Papers on American A r t . ed. John C. Milley (Maple Shade, N.J.: Edinburg Press, 21 1976), p. 1. See Simon J. Bronner, A Critical Bibliography of American Folk Art (Bloomington, sity, 1978). Indiana: Indiana Univer­ 38 22Alan Dundes, "The Study of Folklore," in What is Folklore. ed. Alan Dundes (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: tice Hall, Pren­ Inc., 1965), p. 2. OO William R. Bascom, "Folklore and Anthropology," in What is Folklore, ed. Alan Dundes (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1965), p. 25. 2 4 Ibid. oc William Ferris, "Local Color: Memory and Sense of Place in Folk Art," in Made bv Hand: Mississippi Folk Art (Jackson: Mississippi Department of Archives and History, 1980), p. 11. 26See "What is American Folk Art?: A Symposium," Antiques 57, No. 5 (May 1950), pp. 355-362. 2^Holger Cahill, American Folk Art: The Art of the Common Man in America. 1750-1900. p. 2. no Paul Wingert, Primitive Art: Its Tradition and Its Styles (New York: The New American Library, 1962), pp. 3-4. 2 9 Ibid., pp. 4-5, 9, and 28. 30 See Jean Lipman and Alice Winchester, eds., The Flowering of American Folk Art. 1776-1876. exhibition cata­ logue (New York: Viking Press, i974), pp. 1-10. 3*Hippolyte Taine, History of English Literature. I (London, 1886), p. 30. 32F. Graeme Chalmers, "The Study of Art in a Cultural Context," Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. XXXII, No. 2 (Winter 1973), pp. 249-255. 39 33K. Mitchells, "Work of Art in Its Social Setting and Its Aesthetic Isolation," Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. XXV, No 2 (Summer 1967 >7“p. 369. 04 See Lev Semenovich Vygotsky, The Psychology of Art (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, F. Graeme Chalmers, 1971). "The Study of Art in a Cultural Context," Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, p. 252. 3 6 Ibid. 3 7 Ibid. 3 8 Ibid. QQ See Richard M. Dorson, "Concepts of Folklore and Folklife Studies," in Folklore and Folklife: An Introduc­ tion . ed. Richard- M. Dorson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972), pp. 1-50; Thomas J. Schlereth, Material Culture Studies in America (Nashville, T e n n . : American Association for State and Local History, 1982), . pp. 1-78; and Simon J. Bronner, "Concepts in the Study of Material Aspects of American Folk Culture," Folklore Forum 12, No. 1-2 (1979), pp. 133-172. 40 Michael Owen Jones, "Researching Folk Art: Matching Questions with Conceptions," paper presented at American Folklore Society Meeting, 1982. 41 For an example of this approach of historical recon­ struction, see Marion J. Nelson, "The Material Culture and Folk Arts of the Norwegians in America," in Perspectives on American Folk A r t . ed. Ian M. G. Quimby and Scott Swank (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1980). 40 42 For an example of this approach of cultural geo­ graphy, see Fred Kniffen, "American Cultural Geography and Folklife," American Folklife. ed. Don Yoder (Austin: Uni­ versity of Texas Press, 1976). 43 For an example of this approach of functionalism, see Warren E. Roberts, "Folk Architecture in Context: The Folk Museum" Pioneer America Proceeding 1 (1972). 44 For an example of this approach of symbolism, see Louis C. Jones, Outward Signs of Inner Beliefs: Symbols of American Patriotism (Cooperstown, New York: Historical Association, ■4 5 New York State 1975). For an example of this approach of aesthetic theory, see Herbert W. Hemphill, Jr., Twentieth-Centurv American Folk Art and Artists (New York: 46 E. P. Dutton, 1974). For an example of this approach of structuralism, see Henry Glassie, Folk Housing in Middle Virginia (Knox­ ville: 47 University of Tennessee Press, 1975). For an example of this approach of behavioralism, see Simon J. Bronner, "Manner Books and Suburban Houses: The Structure of Tradition and Aesthetics," Winterthur Portfolio 18, No. 1 (Spring 1983), pp. 61-68. 48 Michael Owen Jones, "Researching Folk Art: Matching Questions with Conceptions." 4 9 Ibid. 50 John F. A. Taylor, Design and Expression in the Visual Arts (New York: Dover Publications, 1964), p. 219. 41 en Franz Boas, Primitive Art (New York: Dover Publi­ cations, Co., 1927, 1955), p. 155. 52Howard Wight Marshall, "Mr. Westfall's Baskets: Traditional Craftsmanship in Northcentral Missouri," in Readings in American Folklore. ed. Jan Harold Brunvand (New York: 53 W. W. Norton, 1979), p. 181. See Ina-Marcia Greverus, "Nothing But a Dala Horse or: How to Decode a Folk Symbol," in Folklore T o d a y , ed. Linda Degh et al. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1976), pp. 183-196. 54 Simon Bronner, "Investigating Identity and Expres­ sion in Folk Art," Winterthur Portfolio 16 (Spring 1981), pp. 82-83. 55 John F. A. Taylor, Design and Expression in the Visual A r t s , p. 219. CHAPTER II THEORY, METHOD AND FIELDWORK The purpose of this case study has been to rediscover and document the history and nature of folk pottery pro­ duction in Grand Ledge, Michigan. Most importantly, this challenge has been undertaken based on the hypothesis that the history and nature of the material folk culture of the pottery can be most fully revealed by examining the inter­ relationship of the activity of pottery making by the makers of the pottery and the members of the community of Grand Ledge. Conventional historical accounts rely pri­ marily on census materials, business directories, deeds, tax assessment records, newspaper accounts, and diaries to reconstruct events. Although these tools played a con­ siderable role in this project, the often overlooked resources — the people — have taken the central role in presenting the folklife of a community that has had a dis­ tinctive past in pottery making. James Deetz, an historical archaeologist, has recog­ nized the need to look beyond the common objects of mater­ ial culture to understand human experience. 42 In a book 43 that is titled for this approach, Deetz noted that the early property tax records of colonial New England often concluded with a final entry by the appraiser that placed a monetary value on objects of seemingly lesser importance in this fashion: "In small things forgotten, eight shill­ ings six pence." The appraiser thus acknowledged "things that may have been overlooked but nonetheless had value."1 In the course of time, the pottery made in Grand Ledge might have found its way into the category "in small things forgotten" if an effort had not been taken to "read" the pottery as artifacts with "value." With the aid of many people in the community, the pottery activity of the past and the present came to life again, and a deeper understanding of the relationship between the pottery and the people emerged. Folklore scholars rely on combining library research, archiving, data analysis and first-hand fieldwork in 2 approaching a problem. While all of these methods are valued, fieldwork is considered to be the most critical, as it is the moment when the fieldworker tests his hypo­ thesis and decodes the messages of artifacts through the gestural, oral, and customary language of his informants. Such first-hand encounters provide evidence that allows for much more than mere formal analysis of material culture as objects with elements of form, style, and dimensions. Therefore the methodology employed in the study of folk pottery making in Grand Ledge relied on the contact 44 with informants who were either makers of folk pottery, relatives of makers of folk pottery, or users of folk pot­ tery. The process employed a fieldwork data sheet which was prepared on each informant. (See Appendices.) This form has been developed by the Polk Arts Division of The Museum, Michigan State University and is a modified ver­ sion of two other forms utilized by the American Folklife Center, Library of Congress and the Indiana University 4 Folklore Archives. Each primary informant was interviewed following the basic format of this form. Cassette tapes of some of the interviews were completed and have since been added to the Archives of the Folk Arts Division, The 5 Museum, Michigan State University. Selected taped inter­ views have also been given to the National Voice Library, Michigan State University Libraries. Field notes and photographic evidence for each interview have also been added to the Folk Arts Division Archives. Both black and white negatives and color slides were taken of each object of folk pottery, each informant, and other relevant source material such as old photographs, old business records, advertising, tools, and buildings. Some prints of selected examples appear, where appropriate, in the body of this dissertation. Folk Expression: Ob.iect Making Shaped bv Time The central role of fieldwork in this study is built upon a methodological foundation for object analysis that 45 has been developed primarily by two scholars, the American folklorist Henry Glassie and the French aesthetician M. Henri Focillon (and his pupil George Kubler).7 This field­ work methodology was developed primarily for analysis of historical objects where fieldwork with current tradition bearers was unlikely. However, it embodies an under­ standing of the nature of folklife and offers a revisionist perspective to most popular thought regarding folk expres­ sion. It is widely assumed that folk expression (especially folk art) is derivative of fine art — styles and influences. or popular art In an essay entitled, "Folk Art," . Henry Glassie stresses the idea that folk art (conservative and localized), popular (normative and nationalized), and elite (academic and progressive) denote not mutually exclu­ sive categories of personality types, but internalized attitudes found at work in the consciousness of all members Q of society. The particular balance of these three atti­ tudes displayed by an individual determines his orienta­ tion toward an entire culture of which he is a member. Glassie therefore rejects the notion of class exclusive­ ness — rather he recognizes that folk art and folk artists work for a particular, limited patronage and the strong tastes of the public reinforce repetition of an accepted form; however, repetition is always accompanied by ceaseless variation of ornamental and other details. Thus, the pri­ mary task of formal analysis becomes how to isolate the 46 minimal acceptable concept of form, and "establishing a morphology of variations, and relating these variations to individuial artists and to the larger frameworks of regional practice in a wide area and the development of a form through time." 9 M. Henri Focillon has written, The duty to compare is the foundation of every science of observation, perhaps of all scientific disciplines. It is well known what development the comparative method has undergone during the past two generations; no longer a secondary technique, it is almost an art of thinking. To define is not to separate: even in order to isolate a phenomenon or a fact, one must compare; by reconciling differences, one arrives at specificity . . . Our goal in investigating folk art has been to show that objects can be set in series, not in discontinuity . . . We must ceaselessly keep in mind all the forms, all the frames of reference which are suggested to us by intellectual disciplines, without imprisoning ourselves exclusively in one or another. To the same extent that observation enriches our body of documents and that the material of these researches grows and expands, so do we better conceive the remarkable diversity of the field; it appears possible to consider folk art not as a series of secondary monuments or sub­ stitutes for sophisticated or high art, but rather as an order with its own laws, like a human language which is not a literary one and which finds its sources in other realms of experience. A fine example of a study that has engaged this methodological premise was conducted by Robert F. Trent for the New Haven Historical Society. Entitled "Hearts & Crowns: Folk Chairs of the Connecticut Coast 1720-1840 as Viewed in the Light of Henri Focillon's Introduction to Art Populaire," Trent documented eighty-one examples of 47 chairs known as heart and crown variants and after "setting them in series" he concluded the following popular assump­ tions of American decorative arts scholarship were incor­ rect about these folk chairs: (1) London is said to have been the only significant style center for American colon­ ists. After arrival in American seaports such as Boston, Newport, New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston, the style spread to the outer limits of each port's sphere. Advo­ cates of this model tend to believe that as a style or form spread farther out from each seaport, there was a marked decline in conception and execution; somewhere along the line, one passed from the realm of art to that of crafts; (2) It is believed that the colonial craftsmen relied exclusively on the classical orders of architecture for their proportional and ornamental systems; (3) The approach to quality imposed by critics on decorative arts objects is usually that associated with fine arts. Each object is to be valued as an autonomous event rather than as integral to a series of works; one is led to believe that unique masterpeices are the proper objects of study — "representative objects are boring; objects d'arte are thrilling."11 Trent concluded that "stylistic transmission is never as simple as it might appear to be. Eventually, [he] would end up jettisoning three of the cherished notions of American decorative arts scholarship." 12 He found that London, via Boston and New York, was not the style center 48 for northern English colonies. In reverse, local crafts­ men in Connecticut arrived at the proportions and basic stylistic form of the heart and crown chair years before they were "canonized11 in urban style centers. However, he did stress that popular stylistic decorative features were added to chairs made in urban carpenter shops to make them more appealing to buyers (i.e., Queen Anne decorative ele­ ments). Trent cited this example, Diffusion of the heart-and-crown design from Thomas Salmon's shop in Stratford seems to have taken two forms, through his apprentices or through initiation of his chairs by other­ wise unrelated craftsmen in the area. The interaction of the heart-and-crown design with "new fashioned" yoke and crooked-back chairs after 1750 displays two classic char­ acteristics of folk art development: the retention of most of the old format and the grafting of only the most obvious new fea­ tures onto that format. Trent recognized the tenacious and powerful folk tradition that governed the individual craftsman's hand and those of his apprentices who shaped the same basic design within strict limits over time. 13 He also concluded that this finding support George Kubler's concept of drift. 14 Trent also concluded that objects set in series — especially those that are shaped by folk cultural values — are proper objects for study and not selected masterpieces. He observes that, "If one insists that objects must have been based on urban precedents and must have displayed classical proportions and ornaments, then a curious thing 49 happens: all objects which do not display these character- istics are deemed variant or irrational." 15 Finally, Trent concludes his study by categorically dispelling the belief that folk art is a degenerate or at least garbled version of high-style forms. that the reverse may in fact be true — 16 Trent found high style forms have been derived from folk forms (as in the heart-andcrown chairs). There is no clear evidence that demon­ strates that when objects are fully examined and determined to be linked to a community aesthetic tradition that this tradition is merely a degenerative form. It may in reality have an independent existence as a living cultural system that has contributed to the popular or fine levels of cul­ tural life. Implications for Fieldwork The implications of Robert F. Trent's findings for fieldwork in Grand Ledge, Michigan, on pottery-making were clear. The methodology called for collecting and document­ ing as many as possible of the known examples of folk pot­ tery to examine the basic forms and to then support the formal analysis with interviews with potential informants. In addition to informal contacts made after talking with members of the Grand Ledge Area Historical Society, the following steps were taken: 50 1. An article on the known examples of folk pottery was prepared for the weekly newspaper, Grand Ledge Independent. 2. 17 Contact was made with the pottery company still in operation to review employee records and to conduct interviews with current and past employees. 3. 18 A series of three days were designated "Discovery Days" by the Folk Arts Division in cooperation with the Grand Ledge Historical Society. Local residents were asked to bring into the Grand Ledge Library pieces of pottery made in Grand Ledge. These three days were carefully structured to maximize the potential for documentation. Two members of the historical society greeted community residents who brought in pieces (or other related documents) to the library. One at a time each object-bearer was encouraged to share information about the example of pottery they had brought in. Utilizing the Folklore Collection Form previously men­ tioned, each individual was interviewed, each object was measured, and a research release form was signed.19 At the suggestion of each person interviewed, other possible informants were also identified. Photos were taken and certain individuals agreed to more indepth interviews in the future — or agreed to tell other possible informants to attend the next "Discovery Day" session. 51 The end result of these three days was a signifi­ cant contribution to an already extensive data bank on Grand Ledge pottery. During later analysis, it was then possible to reconstruct chronology, family background, work records, community influences, worker sub-groups and occupational folklore. It thus became possible to begin to understand the examples of pottery "in series, not in discontinuity" 20 and to begin to view the folk pottery "as an order with its own laws" (Focillon). 21 It is worth noting that I had at an earlier point in this study attempted to try and explain certain pottery forms such as the clay lion by reference to other decora­ tive creations such as the decorative lions made at Bennington, Vermont, or even other European pottery pieces. 22 And yet, not once in all the interviews was any "fine" art example even recognized or postulated as a source of the lion form. As Trent suggests, the so-called "masterpieces" had little relevance to the Grand Ledge pot­ tery tradition and it was best understood by studying the makers and users who did partake in the pottery tradition. There was virtually no evidence to hypothesize that the clay lions were "degenerate" or "garbled versions" of high style forms. I found this revelation particulary liberat­ ing as my own particular decorative arts background made me still suspect such a possible relationship. This study of the pottery making tradition in Grand Ledge, Michigan, has continued since its inception in 1975, 52 when some examples of this pottery were selected to appear in a bicentennial exhibit entitled, ’’Michigan Folk Art, Its Beginnings to 1941.”23 After the initial indepth fieldwork in Grand Ledge, two exhibits of pottery from Grand Ledge were coordinated. The initial exhibit was held at the Michigan National Bank in Grand Ledge, Michigan, in May of 1980. 24 This show was designed to share the initial results of the project with community members who had assisted. In the summer of 1980, an expanded version of the results of fieldwork in Grand Ledge was presented in an exhibition in the Folk Arts Gallery of The Museum, Michigan State University. 2 5 '‘ Since that time, many new leads have emerged and other potential informants have been interviewed. What has been gained from this study is often difficult to capsulize. It was the original hope of this study that those who were involved from the Grand Ledge community would experience a greater sense of pride and understanding of its past and present pottery tradition. The folklorist, John Michael Vlach has written, Some have sought to distinguish between art that was culture and culture that was art, but what seems to be most significant is the broad and encompassing relationship between the two. Creativity reinforces identity: a sense of community is mani­ fested between the maker and his artifact and other, like-minded individuals. This dynamic interaction of perceptions allows us to liken patterns in people to patterns in art. ® Chapter II Footnotes 1James Deetz, In Small Things Foregotten (New York: Doubleday, 1977), p. 4. o See Kenneth S. Goldstein, A Guide for Field Workers in Folklore (Hatboro, Penn.: Folklore Associates, 1964, reprinted by Gale Research Company, Detroit, 1974. 3 The fieldwork data sheets utilized in this study are the standard forms developed by the Folk Arts Division, The Museum, Michigan State University. 4 These forms, developed by the American Folklife Center, Library of Congress and The Folklore Institute of Indiana University, are conventional research tools for folklore fieldwork. Cassette tapes of interviews conducted during this study are available for use by visitors in the Folk Arts Archives of the Folk Arts Division, The Museum, Michigan State University. g In the preparation of this dissertation, not all of the photographs were included due to the large number of images that were collected. Photos of selected objects employees, worker groups, buildings, and related documen­ tary photos were included. 53 54 7 See Robert F. Trent, Hearts and Crowns: Folk Chairs of the Connecticut Coast. 1720-1840 (New Haven, Conn.: New Haven Colony Historical Society, 1977), pp. 23-24. Q See Henry Glassie, "Folk Art," in Folklore and Folk­ life: An Introduction, ed. Richard M. Dorson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, ®Henry Glassie, 1972), pp. 253-280. "Folk Art," p. 259. 10M. Henri Focillon, "Introduction," in Hearts and Crowns: Folk Chairs of the Connecticut Coast. 1720-1840. ed. Robert F. Trent (New Haven, Conn.: New Haven Colony Historical Society, 1977), pp. 16-17. it. Robert F. Trent, Hearts and Crowns: Folk Chairs of . . the Connecticut Coast. 1720-1840. pp. 23-24. 12Ibid., p. 91. 13Ibid. 14 For a discussion of historical drift, see George Kubler, The Shape of Time (New Haven, Conn.: sity Press, 15 Yale Univer­ 1962, 1976), pp. 75-77. Robert F . T r e n t , Hearts and Crowns: Folk Chairs of the Connecticut Coast. 1720-1840. p. 23. 16Ibid., pp. 91-92. 17 This article provided some basic information on the early pottery activity in Grand Ledge and selected examples of folk pottery appeared in a photo that accompanied the article. 55 18 The assistance from Grand Ledge Clay Products Com­ pany officials provided access to all company records and general office holdings. 19 Each informant was asked to sign a release form that has been approved by Michigan State University's committee entitled "Research on Human Subjects." These forms are kept on file in the Folk Arts Division Archives of The Museum, Michigan State University. 20 Henri Focillon, "Introduction," Hearts and Crowns: Folk Chairs of the Connecticut Coast. 1720-1840. p. 17. 2 1 Ibid. 22 See C. Kurt Dewhurst and Marsha MacDowell, "The Sewer Tile Clay Pottery of Grand Ledge, Michigan," North­ east Historical Archeology 6 (1977), pp. 39-43. 23 See exhibition catalogue entitled Michigan Folk A r t : Its Beginnings to 1941 (East Lansing, M i c h . : Michigan State University, 1976), pp. 48-52. 24 The Michigan National Bank in Grand Ledge allowed additional exhibit cases to be set up in the main area of the first floor for this special exhibit which ran for two weeks in conjunction with Michigan Week. 25 This exhibit ran from June of 1980 to January of 1981. nc John Michael Vlach, The Afro-American Tradition in Decorative Arts (Cleveland, Ohio: 1978), p. 148. Cleveland Museum of Art, CHAPTER III GRAND LEDGE, MICHIGAN: A BRIEF COMMUNITY HISTORY The American Sewer Pipe Co. is one the larg­ est factories of its kind in the country and the largest in Michigan. It employs regu­ larly 100 men. The Clay Products Company is almost as large and it gives employment to 90 men. The clay used for the manufacture of tile by these two factories abounds in large quantities about Grand Ledge, and it is a most interesting sight to visit the pits and watch the fire clay being dug out by the men, loaded on miniature cars and drawn to the mixing machines over a narrow gage rail­ way. Each of these concerns have 12 large kilns in which the tile are burned, and the completed product is shipped to all parts of the country. In order to establish a sense of place, the study began with an attempt at historical reconstruction of the early pottery years — o ment of Grand Ledge. and the social and economic developThis brief community history has been drawn from conventional historical accounts such as census material, business directories, deeds, tax assess­ ment records, newspaper accounts, business records and diaries. In keeping with the model provided by practi­ tioners of the historical reconstruction approach, these sources were combined with fieldwork with community 56 57 Grand Ledge Clay Products workers loading pipe onto hauling trucks, 1939. 58 informants to support and compliment the written record. Keeping in mind Michael Owen Jones' category which embraces historical reconstruction research objectives, the pottery tradition has been studied as "an index of historical processes" at work in Grand Ledge, Michigan. 3 In June of 1836 a group of land speculators arrived in the Grand River Valley and purchased the section of land that is now known as Grand Ledge. Credit is given to Mr. Zina Lloyd for initiating the purchase as he was the recognized figure who spearheaded the acquisition of the 4 land for the group. It is noted in the records of the Grand Ledge Independent t h a t . . . . later surveys revealed a superior grade of sandstone, coal, and clay, while the topography, which is the topography of the whole lower peninsula of the state, shows but eight points with a higher ele­ vation than Grand Ledge, which is the sum­ mit of Eaton County, being 830 feet above sea level and 250 feet above Lake Michigan. Near the spot where Grand Ledge was to develop, the Grand River Valley had carved a river bed that was approximately sixty feet below the surrounding terrain. The resulting sandstone ledges left exposed on the two sides of the Grand River were later to inspire the name of the town. The Grand Ledge area had been called "Big Rocks" by g the Ojibwa tribe who lived in wigwams throughout the area. Okemos was the chief of the Ojibwa tribe that hunted, trap­ ped, made sugar, and fished in and along the Grand River. In 1848, the first white settlers appeared. Edmund L. 59 Lamson, a native of Vermont, who had lived earlier in Pontiac and Farmington, Michigan, arrived with his family to settle on the land he had bought. Upon his arrival, the Lamsons discovered someone already living on their land. Little is known about the trespasser, Henry Trench, but 7 records indicate that he was "an eccentric." Trench remained on the land for about eight years but finally gave up his eight acres along the Grand River and returned to Connecticut. The Grand Ledge area was soon filled with settlers and in 1849 the Michigan state legislature authorized Abram Smith, David Taylor and John W. Russell to build a dam across the Grand River. The dam was completed within a Q year and was 230 feet in length. The state legislature approved the use of the harnessed power to operate a saw9 mill on the south side of the river. In 1850 a meeting of the settlers was held to decide upon a name for their com­ munity and to petition the legislature for a post office. Several potential names were suggested, two of which were Trenchville and Lamsonville, but they were rejected because so many towns were "villes." Mrs. Lamson, said to be a "cultured woman with a vision," suggested that rather than attach a "ville" to one of the early residents’ names, a better alternative would be to name the town for the grand ledges that flank the Grand River and divide the town. Her proposal met with approval and the town formerly known as 60 IfjuHifrltca •STATE OF MICHIGAN * U W 4 OGRANO l e d g e \m lu n M U Map of Grand Ledge, 1881. Area marked with star at far right indicates the site of early pottery activity. 62 "Big Rocks" became Grand Ledge.1® In that same year the newly-named community was granted its first post office. The next fifty years were marked by rapid expansion and economic development in Grand Ledge. In 1853 the first wooden bridge was built to join the two sides of the town that were separated by the Grand River.11 The Grand Ledge Independent newspaper was founded in 1870 and in the fol­ lowing year Grand Ledge was incorporated as a village by an act of the legislature. 12 However, there was still nothing but a dense forest between Lansing and Grand Ledge. Most of the time the only road, an old Indian trail along the river, was almost impassable except on horseback. In 1870 John Burtch undertook the development of the seven islands, in the Grand River in the center of downtown Grand Ledge, as a resort area. A few years later a Mr. Hewings bought the islands and expanded the facilities by enlarging the existing hotel by buying a steamboat (which he christened "Gertie" in honor of his daughter), and by purchasing a large number of rowboats that were made avail­ able for a small rental fee. Along came another developer, J. S. Mudge, who bought the islands and made even more extensive improvements. one of the islands. A beautiful casino was added on Before long the seven islands were described as "one of the most popular picnic places in Michigan." 13 The seven islands were known to attract "as high as twelve train loads of people from various sections 63 of Michigan and Chicago all in one day.” 14 A newspaper account in 1910 said this of the resort, Nestling between the rugged, wooden banks of Grand River like a veritable scenic gem set amid very ordinary pastoral surroundings is the historic and celebrated Seven Islands Resort, one of the oldest and at one time the most popular in all of lower Michigan Second in tourists popularity only to Petoskey and with nine hotels and as many as ten thousand tourists in a single day, the resort was a focal point of the economic life of the town. Even though the resort business even­ tually did decline in the beginning of the second decade of the twentieth century with the invention of the automobile, Grand Ledge remained a thriving town. The seven islands were also the focal point for a local Indian legend. This legend contends that the seven islands were created when an Indian mother, fearing an impending battle might harm her seven sons, decided to "give them to the Great Father." She supposedly threw her sons into the Grand River and shortly thereafter seven dis­ tinct islands appeared at the very locations where each of the Indian children drowned. 16 Furniture making and pottery production were the other primary businesses that stabilized the economy of the town over the years. Like many other small towns did in and around Grand Rapids, the center of furniture production in Michigan, Grand Ledge produced furniture. However, what in retrospect makes Grand Ledge so unusual is the fact that 64 there were so few pottery towns in Michigan. Unlike other eastern states that had numerous towns with potteries, only ten Michigan cities beyond Grand Ledge had potteries: (1) Burlington Township (Charles Gleason Pottery, c. 1868, known for redware when in Genesee County, New York; (2) Corunna (John Neuffer Pottery, c. 1863-1864, known for its redware); (3) Detroit (Martin Autretsch, c. 1863-1869, known for its redware); (4) Detroit (Theodore Blasley, c. 1865, known for redware); (5) Grand Rapids (David Striven and Samuel Davis, c. 1859-1867); Price, c. 1863-1864); 1865); (6) Hadley (Mortimer (7) Hanover (Elijah Nichols, c. 1863- (8) Ionia (Sage and Dethrick, c. 1893-1903, known for earthenware, flower pots and saucers); (9) Marshall (Aaron Norris, c. 1863-1894, known for redware); and (10) Saginaw Clay Manufacturing Company (c. 1900). 17 In the early 1860s a pottery was built by a "Mr. Lew Harrington" on West Jefferson Street near the present site of the Grand Ledge Clay Products Company. 18 Local legend contends that Indians in the area had long used this site for pottery making, and it was not surprising that early homesteaders discovered that the clay among the Grand River was suitable for the production of earthenware. Infor­ mation about Mr. Harrington is scant, but it is known that he was the father of Edward, a painter, 19 and that he pro­ duced jars, churns, and crocks in Grand Ledge. Another early potter, George Loveless, also built a pottery near or on this site. The 1860 census for the Township of Oneida 65 (which includes Grand Ledge) listed George Loveless as a potter and his son George B. Loveless as a pedlar. 20 A colorful figure, George Loveless was too old to enlist at the outbreak of the Civil War. Undaunted by his age, he dyed his hair black and was able to join up. When the war ended, he returned home where he commenced a more personal kind of battle. The Grand Ledge Independent cites the incident in the following story: When the railroad was being built from here to Grand Rapids, the graders struck Mr. Love­ less' land just at the end of the bridge by the chair factory; they had been allowed to complete the grade across his land without settling the right of way, and when they got the rails laid to the west end of the bridge, just before them on a pile of railroad ties which he had put up sat Mr. Loveless with a double barrelled shot gun. He had estab­ lished a deadline at the end of the bridge and told them that the first man who crossed it would be shot. They settled. 2V oveless was eighty years old at the time. By 1869, work on the railroad was completed and trains began running through Grand Ledge on a regular basis. These two early family potteries operated in a manner that was consistent with other early American family pot­ teries. Utilizing local sources of clay, these potters produced functional items such as pots, jugs, bottles, urns, crocks, and churns. Eventually the products of these local potters were replaced by larger operations that uti­ lized machinery to mold pottery. By the end of the nine­ teenth century these processes had replaced local folk 66 traditions that governed the local and regional patterns of pottery making of the past. While most communities relied on outside sources for their pottery needs, Grand Ledge proved to be somewhat of an exception. Certainly the mass-produced functional con­ tainers were also popular in Grand Ledge, but pottery mak­ ing did continue in this mid-Michigan town. Due largely to the ready supply of clay and the activity of these local potters, Grand Ledge became a center for the more mechan­ ized pottery businesses. The first organized clay product company was the Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company formed in the 1880s. 22 ' In 1906, another business sprang up across the road (Jefferson). A number of local businessmen, including R. E. Olds, founder of Oldsmobile, Fitzgerald, and John W. father of a Michigan governor and grandfather of the former Michigan Supreme Court Justice John Fitz­ gerald, organized the new business, the Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, which has flourished until today. 23 This firm originally was intended to produce only conduit pipe for underground wiring, but a disastrous fire in 1937 des­ troyed the dies for the pipes, and the company then began to manufacture drain tiles and pipes. This turn of events initiated a rivalry between the two companies which con­ tinued until the shut down of the first factory, leaving the Grand Ledge Clay Products Company the only remaining clay tile producing firm in Michigan. of competition, 24 During the years the original firm had changed hands, 67 eventually becoming the American Vitrified Company, owned by the Ohio-based firm of the same name. Many pottery workers in Grand Ledge worked at various times at either firm. Because of its Ohio association, American Vitrified brought from Ohio many specialized workers, particularly molders and branchers. 25 Around 1910-1915, Grand Ledge Clay Products recruited a number of workers from Syria but, for the most part, the industries found their work force locally. Many of the workers' families still live in and around the community of Grand Ledge. Brief Sketches of the Pottery Operations in Grand Ledge The Loveless Pottery, c. 1860 The earliest documented pottery in Grand Ledge was the George Loveless Pottery, which was known to be in operation in 1860, according to the census records of the Township of Oneida (at that time this included Grand Ledge). In a 1922 issue of the Grand Ledge Independent. Mrs. Ed Kent wrote, Mr. Loveless built a pottery here which flourished for many years; this was located in a hollow just beyond Mrs. Taber's house as heretofore mentioned; the clay was taken from the bank just north of McDiarmid's barn; all kindSnOf crocks, jugs, churns, etc. were made here. No signed or documented examples of the type of pot­ tery that personal recollections recount as the products of the Loveless Pottery have been confirmed. This connection cannot be made without additional evidence, but some 68 valuable conclusions can be drawn from what limited evi­ dence is available. If the Loveless Pottery were indeed in operation at the time of the 1860 census, then it was one of the earliest known potteries in Michigan. Only the Stiven and Davis Pottery in Grand Rapids is known to have been in operation before 1860, and that was in the year 1859. It is highly probable that the Loveless Pottery was also active before 1860 since it appeared in the 1860 cen­ sus. Thus the Loveless Pottery may in actuality be the earliest known pottery in Michigan. The same 1860 census indicates that George Loveless listed his occupation as "potter” and his son George B. Loveless listed himself as "pedlar." One can speculate that the son sold the pottery procuded by the father — a relationship that was consistent with family patterns of folk pottery operation. worth mentioning. One last bit of information is In his property records, Loveless listed his place of origin as Ohio, and it is likely that he learned his trade as a potter there before coming to Michigan. The Harrington Pottery, c. 1862 The Loveless Pottery and the Lew Harrington Pottery were the early forerunners of industrial pottery production in Grand Ledge. County census and property records reveal two spellings — Harrington and Herrington, but the county property deed lists the name as Harrington. As in the 69 case of the Loveless Pottery, only limited written recol­ lections provide any clues to the nature of the pottery made and the manner of operation. In a column entitled "Antiques" in a 1922 issue of the Grand Ledge Independent. the following item appears: "Mrs. Grace Porter Pierce has loaned a gallon jar which was made about seventy years ago by L. Harrington in a pottery which stood out on West Jefferson Street." 28 Grace Porter Pierce recalled in her book, The History of Grand Ledge that, "in the early six­ ties a Lew Harrington opened a pottery out West Jefferson, near where the Clay Products Plant now stands. He had discovered the valuable clay and made jars, churns and such goods." 29 In another instance, Valorus M. Kent wrote, "Luther Holmes has called my attention to the fact that Mr. Herrington, the painter, and Libbie, mother of Louis and Roy Lee, had a pottery where the Clay Products Plant now stands and where was made the same class of articles mentioned in connection with the Loveless Plant." 30 Local residents of Grand Ledge still have examples of jars, churns, and other stoneware that, according to oral family traditions, were made at one of these two early Grand Ledge potteries. However, so little information exists on the character of the work turned out at either the Harrington or Loveless pottery that attribution is only speculative. All of the pieces still extant are unmarked (except for some quantity measures) and they are essentially identical Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company float in Community parade, c. 1900. 71 to stoneware produced at other stoneware potteries in the late nineteenth century. Efforts are now underway to ferret out additional source material that may provide some more definitive clues to the origin of these pieces attributed to the early pot­ teries. Still, these early examples have long been appre­ ciated, as this recollection by Mrs. Tom Lawrence reveals: "In the early days there was a pottery where Clay Pro­ duct [s] Plant is located. the same property. Also there was a brick yard on There was another pottery located just east of the Arch V. Cane residence. Occasionally one of 3*1 ; the jars made is to be found as a cherished heirloom.'1 Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company, c. 1886 American Sewer Pipe Company, c. 1898 American Vitrified Products Company, c. 1910 The Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company was the first organized industrial pottery that produced sewer pipe and drain tile in Grand Ledge. to confirm. Its founding date is difficult The earliest known rendering of the facility is an 1886 print that appeared in an early business direc­ tory. Two early photographs of a parade down Bridge Street show workers from Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company riding on floats made with drain tile and sewer pipe. These photos help convey the pride that many workers maintained in their work and their community. 72 In The Nature of Grand L e d g e , a natural science guide to Fitzgerald Park, the islands, and the Grand River Path, the geological conditions that fostered the development of a pottery-making tradition are summarized: These quarries contain a variety of rock types which are made into clay drain and flue tile. Most of the rocks are shale and siltstone, which formed in the quiet waters of a lagoon behind the beach. Streams flow­ ing into the lagoon from the land brought in some sandy sediment; swamps on the l§§d~ ward shore of the lagoon produced coal. These conditions provided a ready opportunity for expanded pottery production in Grand Ledge. The original Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company was to change ownership in approximately 1898 when it was pur­ chased by the Universal American Company of Cleveland, Ohio. Oral sources indicate that the sale was the out­ growth of a declining supply of clay in one area of the clay pits. The new owners expanded their search for clay supplies by laying rail tracks to haul clay from a site across what is today Highway M-43. The clay was hauled under the old Pere Marquette railroad back to the plant and then prepared for production. 33 Unlike the locally well-known series of horses that were used by Grand Ledge Clay Products, the American Sewer Pipe Company used mules to pull the rail cars filled with freshly dug clay back to the kilns. Along with the change of ownership came an influx of Ohio molders and branchers who were brought to Grand Ledge to expand the production of industrial wares. 73 oiuND LEof SIWER P IP E COMiP/kN'V « £ Illustration from the 1886 Grand Ledge Business Directory. 74 In the years to follow, another name change accompanied the growth of sewer pipe and related pottery activity: Universal American Sewer Pipe Company became known as American Vitrified Products Company, Plant Number 32. This pottery conducted a successful business into the late 1960s. An article entitled, "Grand Ledge has a Brilliant Out­ look for Future Growth," published in the Lansing State Journal on July 18, 1912, confirmed the solvent state of the pottery business in Grand Ledge. The American Sewer Pipe Co. is one of the largest factories of its kind in the country and the largest in Michigan. It employs regularly 100 men. The Clay Products Com­ pany is almost as large and it gives employ­ ment to 90 men. The clay used for the manu­ facture of tile by these two factories abounds in large quantities about Grand Ledge, and it is a most interesting sight to visit the pits and watch the fire clay being dug out by the men, loaded on to miniature cars and drawn to the mixing machines over a narrow-gauge railway. Each of the concerns have 12 large kilns in which the tiles are burned, and the completed prodggt is shipped to all parts of the coun­ try . The only serious interruptions to pottery production at "American" or "the Sewer Pipe Company" (as it was known by local residents) were the fire of 1923 and the lean years of the Depression that necessitated layoffs and sus­ pension of production. American Vitrified rebuilt the plant in 1924 and resumed manufacturing pottery. The Depression caused the complete shutdown of American Vitrified in the middle years of the 1930s, but in May of 75 ». a. ««««»«€«. »m»t. O rand • j. «. ato. *. r. k t»m», I . e-d•g e S e w•e r P ipe • ( S o•., ---------- M A N U F A C T U R E R S O F ---------- Vitr ified |5 t o n e D r r i n T i l e . m m m m m__ H E f i r s p O q t of this new c o m p a n y is now turning out a superior article of HARD T G l a z e d D r a in T i e of all sizes, fronq 2 j 4 to 12 iqches. T h e attentioq of Tov.rj. ,'r \j Hi j r /.Oj C cm T 'Ssicners, Tov/nstyp a q d C ouqty Drain Comnqissioners, and all others t-.-d in p o b 'ic cr pri. a te fcraiqs is ca lled to the superiority of Our product. WeXifWite C o m p a r i s o n 'With o t h e r m a k e ^ in b o t h Q u a lity a n d ^ r i c e . IS O E P O O t.T H K1N T. Advertisement for Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company. (O V ff) 76 1937, the same month of the fire at Grand Ledge Clay Pro­ ducts Company, operation was restored again at American Vitrified. late 1960s. Normal business activity continued until the In 1967, the city of Grand Ledge purchased the land surrounding the American Vitrified Products build­ ings. By the early 1970s, the remaining buildings were razed and a trailer park now occupies the site. Ask any worker who labored with any of the pottery companies about intercompany rivalries and the response will be virtually identical to that of one worker who recalls, ’'There was no rivalry between the potteries — work was so much the same — both damn hard work." the Mold- ers, branchers, press operators, tile machine operators, loaders, and kiln setters are the general categories of workers that former employees refer to in conversation — many of these titles are still retained today. The wife of one worker recalls that, "many women worked at Vitrified . . . they were liberated long before Grand Ledge Clay Products . . . and they were all good workers." 36 Many fami­ lies in Grand Ledge had some contact with one of the pot­ tery operations; it was frequently the case that young men often worked "for a time out at the potteries" either between jobs or as their first employment. Since wages at the pottery were nominal, men were always seeking better wages and many times that meant looking elsewhere. In spite of the low pay, long hours, and hard work, many men and some entire families spent their working lives at the 77 potteries and took great pride in their place of employ­ ment . Grand Ledge Clav Products. 1906 The Grand Ledge Clay Products Company was founded in June of 1906 by a small group of local businessmen. The first president of Grand Ledge Clay Products was E. A. Turnbull, the owner of the Grand Ledge Chair Company. Other funding owners were the noted car manufacturer, R. E. Olds, John W. Fitzgerald, father of a Michigan governor, and F. A. Tabor, who served as secretary and manager. To commemorate the formation of this partnership, a large tile with the incised names of the founders was created, and to this day it has remained in the offices of Grand Ledge Clay Products. Since it was originally established to make conduit pipe for underground telephone wires, the new industrial pottery was not perceived to be in direct competition with American Vitrified Products located across the street. The clay pits situated along and behind the plant provided a rich source of material for conduit. Clay was hauled in small rail cars pulled by horseback to the molding rooms. Two horses known as Old Dan and Old George served as power to assist workers at Grand Ledge Clay Products. Former employees recount with affection the role the horses played in easing their work load, which was indeed strenuous. early photograph records two wheelbarrows each filled One 78 Kiln burners at Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, 1923. These workers were also known as the pulling and setting.gang. 79 with seventy-five-pound tiles. lifted by but one worker. This 350-pound load was As one account indicates, "Few men were cut out for that kind of work . . . A fellow came down from Greenville to find work at the pottery and he didn't last one morning . . . said you could have that work."37 While the work at Grand Ledge Clay Products was demanding, it nonetheless provided a job. A group of Syrian immigrants came to Grand Ledge to work at "Clay Products," and the company built three small buildings of conduit tile behind the plant to house them. These houses stood from approximately 1912 until the 1940s when the last one was demolished. Local families found the prosperity of the potteries a boon for employment since many men found work at one of the potteries. The first major interruption in pottery production occurred during the Depression years when a few layoffs were necessary and some wages were paid in scrip. But the most memorable event was the disastrous fire of May 1937 that completely leveled the plant and in which the dies necessary for molding conduit tiles were lost. plant was rebuilt, When the the management of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company chose to expand their line of products to include sewer tile and assorted drain tile. In time, the merchandise offered for sale also included wall coping, sump crocks, and clay flue lining. 80 The transformation of clay shale into tile ware is a complicated process that was summarized in a series of steps by F. Bruce Decke, the General Manager of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company. The first step consists of the clay being transported to and then through a primary crusher. Next, after further crushing, grinding, screening, and drying, the shale is now in powder form where it is mixed with water and a small amount of barium carbonate to counteract scumming. The third step begins when the proper consis­ tency is achieved, then the wet clay is extruded through various sized dies where the product begins to take on its perma­ nent form. In the fourth step the tile ware is then dried in gas-fired, forceddraft drying rooms before b e i n g t r a n s f e r ­ red to beehive kilns. In the fifth step the temperature is gradually raised up to the finishing point of about 2,040 degrees Fahrenheit, where at this point petrification takes place and salt is added to glaze the outer surface of the pottery. The actual firing time varies from a minimum of 50 continuous hours to a maximum of 140 depending on the thick­ ness of the side wallSgOf the clay forms that are being fired. This process was identical to other potteries, especially those in Ohio that produced a similar line of pottery. Grand Ledge Clay Products and American Vitrified Products both relied on the old beehive-style kilns rather than the tunnel kilns that were created in later years. the rounded structure of the roof Named for that simulates the appearance of a beehive, these kilns were originally fired with coal through exterior door-like openings around the kiln. The size of the kilns was usually 35 to 40 feet in diameter and approximately 15 to 18 feet from ground level 81 to the peak of the beehive roof. The beehive form was adapted somewhat when gas mechanisms were installed to fire the kiln, but the persistence of the fundamental shape demonstrates the strong historical tradition of the bee­ hive kiln form. Today the Grand Ledge Clay Products Company owns sixty-three acres, and many of the earlier steps in produc­ tion that necessitated strenuous unaided manpower have been mechanized. The nine-hour days have been reduced, but memories of those earlier years linger on. One worker still refers to one of the old buildings made of conduit where workers stored tile in this way: "there are about 500 backaches in that old conduit building." 39 Such accounts, plus low wages, undoubtedly led to a move toward unification among workers in the early 1940s to improve their status. A strike in 1941 was relatively short-lived but at times bitter. The settlement of that strike led to a reduction of hours and an increase in wages. Before the strike, laborers at the pottery made forty-five cents an hour and worked a fifty-hour week. Satisfied strikers returned to work with a forty-five hour week and fifty cents an hour. 40 F. Bruce Decke remembers many of the changes through the years since he took the reins as mana­ ger from his father, Fred W. Decke, who managed the com­ pany from 1924. Bruce Decke recalls clearly the trauma of the fire of 1937, when he was a child, and the demoralizing impact it had on the community. One worker, Cy Padgham, Employees of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, 1923. 1937 fire at Grand Ledge Clay Products. 84 Examples of conduit tile pipe made at Grand Ledge Clay Products Company prior to the fire of 1937. 85 uv^« Workers on strike at Grand Ledge Clav Products, 1941. « Grand Ledge Clay Products Company, 1983 87 later painted a mural on the side of the newly constructed plant of the steam engine that he and his fellow worker Tom Dalton operated. Early photographs prompt further memories of rebuilt kilns, storage buildings, and the main plan, but the experience of the fire and the community's response are deeply etched in the minds of all those who lived through those years. perous The rebuilding yielded a pros­ future for Grand Ledge Clay Products Company: it still stands today as the only industrial pottery in Michigan that has continued the tradition on the very site of one of the earliest folk potteries to have been known to exist in Michigan. Pottery Making and the Folk Tradition The Grand Ledge folk pottery tradition presented here as a case study must be reviewed as occurring against the backdrop of the industrial pottery activity that developed in the late nineteenth century. To accurately label any object or group of objects as "folk," a number of condi­ tions must be met. Folklorists frequently disagree on the purity of the folk object but almost universally agree that the culture that produces the folk object is conservative in its social values. 41 Unlike the levels of culture that are considered popular (normative) or elite (progressive), folk culture retains a strong link with the past and car­ ries forth past values into the future. Elite or popular cultural artifacts are subject to constant innovation or t t M M M g Clay lion stamped with the words, "Grand Ledge, Michigan." 89 the exploratory urges of those who are agents for social change. Meanwhile, folk cultural artifacts experience "major variation over space and minor variation over time" 42 as these artifacts reflect locally defined com­ munity values. It is worth stressing that in communities where folklife proves most vital, traditional avenues for social intercourse exist between residents whether at home, at play, or at work. In Grand Ledge many residents contri­ buted to the folklore of the workplace by passing along stories, behaviors, or, in the case of pottery, for casting objects in clay. techniques These folk patterns of life are usually transmitted orally, although at times they are recorded for informal aid in teaching. As workers with shared experience in pottery making, the employees at pot­ teries in Grand Ledge formed what folklorists term a folk group. By examining the pottery and the process of learn­ ing how to make pottery, one can identify the following conditions at work in a folk group: cation with the folk group; (1) clear identifi­ (2) a distinct pattern of transmission of expressions and behaviors (primarily infor­ mal and oral); and (3) a clearly identifiable traditional community aesthetic that governs the process of folk expression. On the basis of these conditions of folk pottery mak­ ing, certain types of Grand Ledge pottery that have been made, and are still being made, cannot be labeled folk 90 pottery. The sewer pipe, drain tile, and conduit tile all conform to modes of pottery in the realm of popular cul­ ture, for these types of pottery are virtually identical to pieces made in the industrial potteries of Ohio and elsewhere. Although the pottery workers who make these pieces identify themselves with the pottery they make, they are aware that the industrial pottery is virtually identical to pottery produced in other plants. 43 Also, the tech­ niques or procedures for making these utilitarian tiles are under constant scrutiny for potential improvement by those trained scientists and engineers who govern the introduction of new and improved technology. The worker thus has little room for creating a pottery that reflects a local community-based aesthetic. Although these produc­ tion-line tiles cannot accurately be called folk pottery, their origin may have had strong roots in the folk tradi­ tion of pottery-making. Also, this conclusion does not preclude the development of folklore that may still center around industrial pottery production or any other occupations. 44 In contrast, two folk traditions of pottery making can be identified in Grand Ledge. The first is the early family pottery traditions as represented by the Loveless and Harrington potteries. As family enterprises, these potteries readily exhibit the established forms of a folk cultural organization: workers identification with the community, distinct manner of transmitting the process, 91 and an identifiable community aesthetic. As a consequence, one can conclude that these early churns, pots, crocks, jars, etc. are examples of traditional folk pottery. The second folk pottery tradition is somewhat more problematic but is the central focus of this case study. This one is represented by the many clay lions and other creations that were made along with the industrial tileware in the potteries of the twentieth century. When the same test is applied to these pieces, one reaches the conclusion that they too should be called folk pottery. The process of making these pieces was directly governed by the folk group that immediately surrounded the maker. Made accord­ ing to the oral traditions passed on from fellow workers, lions in particular were created by successive generations of employees. The use of these pieces as doorstops, book- ends, and for other purposes influenced the later pieces made by workers at the potteries. Umbrella stands, urns, and ashtrays were made as gifts for friends and relatives. 45 Such pottery pieces, while varied, reflected the values of the workers and the community. Innovation occur­ red in limited steps, but new forms were encouraged. Some folklorists have qualms about the introduction of new ideas that are implanted in a conservative, tradition-bound com­ munity, and claim that tradition (and folk expression) stops where innovation begins. guided. This notion is clearly mis­ Michael Owen Jones has noted that the belief that there is no virtue in originality is, 92 Clay lion made by Tom Carter. It is signed on the base and dated November 7, 1936. 93 . . .an assumption that is based on a con­ ception of folklore as necessarily static rather than dynamic. (See Stith Thompson for example, "the characteristic feature of a folktale is that it is traditional. It is handed down from one person to ano­ ther, and there is no virtue in original­ ity.") N e w .discovery does not render the behavior or output to be non-folk . . . because what researchers have called folk­ lore actually refers to a process of learn­ ing and utilizing modes of behavior in particular circumstances.gather than to static texts or objects. The workers who made the variety of lions, animals, and assorted functional objects did so in the context of the folk process. They learned to make them from their fellow workers and within the circumstances surrounding pottery making in Grand Ledge, Michigan. The following chapter will examine the material evi­ dence of the folk pottery found in Grand Ledge, Michigan. Attention will be given to the technical, functional, and the symbolic elements at work in the process of folk pot­ tery making. In addition, influences of occupational folk­ lore on the behavioral patterns of workers will be dis­ cussed. Such components as tools, materials, technical processes, and human interaction will each be considered for the role each plays in the material culture of pottery making in Grand Ledge. Chapter III Footnotes 1 "American Sewer Pipe Company," State Journal (Lansing, Michigan, July 18, 1912). 2 For further discussion of theories of historical reconstruction, see Howard Wight Marshall, the Rise of "Folklife and the American Folk Museums," Journal of Ameri­ can Folklore 90 (1977), pp. 391-413. ,n .. '' ....... . See Michael Owen Jones, "Researching Folk Art; Match­ ing Questions with Conceptions," paper presented at American Folklore Society Meeting, 1982. 4 Grace Porter Pierce, "The History ofGrand Ledge," Grand Ledge Centennial Booklet. 1936. 5 "Speculators Came First," Grand Ledge Independent (special supplement), May 13, 1970, p. B-4. fi "Potawatomi Indians Came Here First," Grand Ledge Independent (special supplement), May 13, 1970, p. B-4. 7 Daniel Strange, Pioneer History of Eaton Countv. Michigan (Charlotte, Mich.: Eaton County Pioneer and Historical Society, 1923), pp. 123-124. O Grand Ledge Remembered (Grand Ledge, Mich.: Ledge Area Historical Society, 1976), p. 11 9 Ibid. 94 Grand 95 "^Grace Porter Pierce, "The History of Grand Ledge," Grand Ledge Centennial Booklet. 1936. ^ G r a n d Ledge Remembered, p . 9. 12 Grace Porter Pierce, "Remembrances," Grand Ledge Public Library files. 13Ibid. 14Ibid. 15 Grand Ledge Remembered, pp. 7-12. 16 Grace Porter Pierce, "Remembrances," Grand Ledge Public Library files. 17 See William Ketchum, Jr., The Pottery and Porcelain Collector's Handbook (New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1971); and Geological Survey of Michigan III (1900-1909). Also, George Hamill of the Museum of Science and History, Rochester, New York, has shared his preliminary findings on other potters/potteries in Michigan, personal corre­ spondence . 18 Grace Porter Pierce, "Remembrances"; Census. Eaton Countv (Oneida Township), 19 and Michigan 1860. Valorus M. Kent, "Loveless Guarded Right of Way," Grand Ledge Independent. 1922. 22 Interview with F. Bruce Decke, February 20, 1977, conducted at Grant Ledge Clay Products; and early adver­ tising for this plant appears in the mid-1880s. No busi­ ness records exist in Eaton County to establish exact date of founding. 96 23 Interview with F. Bruce Decke, February 20, 1977; business records of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company (in possession of administrative offices in Grand Ledge). 24 Grand Ledge Clay Products supplies industrial pot­ tery to builders and contractors throughout the midwest by both truck and rail. 25 Interview with F. Bruce Decke, August 14, 1979. This information was supported by interviews with other pottery w o r k e r s . 26 Michigan Census. Eaton Countv (Oneida Township), 1860. 07" ' ■ ' '' Mrs. Edward Kent, "Loveless Guarded Right of Way," Grand Ledge Independent. 1922. 28 29 "Antiques." Grand Ledge Independent. 1922. Grace Porter Pierce, "The History of Grand Ledge," Grand Ledge Public Library files. 30 Valorus M. Kent, "Recollections," Grand Ledge Public Library files, 1922. 31 Mrs. Tom Lawrence, "Recollections," Grand Ledge Public Library files, 1922. 32 The Nature of Grand Ledge (Grand Ledge: Grand Ledge Area American Revolution Bicentennial Commission, 1978), p. 20. 33 34 Interview with F. Bruce Decke, February 20, 1977. "Grand Ledge Has a Brilliant Outlook for Future Growth," State Journal (Lansing, Michigan, July 18, 1912). 97 35 Interview with Dale Brown, January 2, 1980. qg Interview with Mrs. Dale Brown, January 2, 1980. 37 38 39 40 41 Interview with Mr. Harry Poole, February 17, 1980. Interview with F. Bruce Decke, February 20, 1977. Interview with Harry Poole, February 17, 1980. Interview with F. Bruce Decke, February 20, 1977. See Henry Glassie, "Folk Art, in Folklore and Folk- life: An Introduction, ed. Richard M. Dorson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972), pp. 253-280. 42Ibid. 43 In central Ohio there exists a cluster of plants that produce industrial pottery (around Urichsville). 44 Other forms of occupational folklore such as narra­ tive are collected by folklorists in many industrial work settings. See Robert H. Byington, e d . , Working Americans: Contemporary Approaches to Occupational Folklife. special issue of Western Folklore 37 (1978). 45 Interview with Mrs. Roy Poole, June 15,1976, revealed that Roy Poole made gifts for family members, friends, neighbors and even a local clergyman. 46 Michael Owen Jones, The Hand-Made Ob.iects and Its Maker (Berkeley, Cal.: p . 68. University of California, 1975), CHAPTER IV WORKS OF ART AND THE ARTS OF WORKING Human behavior, whether individual or col­ lective, is invariably the resultant of two factors: the cognitive system as well as the goals and patterns or behaviors as defined by culture systems, on the one hand and the system of real contingencies as defined by the social structure on the other. A complete interpretation and appre­ hension of social processes can be achieved only when both systems, as well as their interaction, are taken into account. The aesthetics operative in the work setting include not only the performance of the occupation, the playification of work, the verbal and behavioral traditions asso­ ciated with work, but also the manipulation of the work o materials and physical work environments. This manipula­ tion includes the creation of objects, for pleasure and sale, from the materials of work. Much of the folk pot­ tery made while on the job by workers in Grand Ledge illu­ strates the existence of a distinctive form of creative behavior in an industrial work setting. In reality, this practice of creative expression effectively served to pro­ mote a sense of shared identity with the work process and the worker's group. 98 The pulling gang at Grand Ledge Clay Products. 100 As noted in the opening chapter, man's interaction with virtually all aspects of his life, including material culture production, can be described in behavioral terms. In recent years, folklorists have attempted to bring to bear many of the principles of behavioralism in formulating 3 systematic approaches to material culture traditions. These efforts to employ a broader systematic under­ standing of man's aesthetic accomplishments in the visual arts had their roots in the work of such renowned anthro­ pologists as Franz Boas, but were also later illustrated in an extremely important book among American studies scho­ lars, Made in America: The Arts in Modern American Civili­ zation by John Atlee Kouwenhoven. Kouwenhoven has recently written of his earlier book, published in 1948, that he now firmly believes that, "All the products of art appear to me to be created by men or women engaged in designing. root meaning of the word art was apparently 'to join' The (an 4 active verb) and the joints of all things are designed." Kouwenhoven's belief in the need to examine all the designed world has been widely supported by other scholars such as art historian, George Kubler. 5 The folk pottery of Grand Ledge, Michigan, may best be understood by viewing the examples as more than an index of historical processes or an index of human capability. Rather, the examples considered in this chapter may most profitably be con­ sidered as an index of socio-cultural processes and cogni­ tive and interactional processes. 101 The folk pottery pieces in general, and the clay lions made in Grand Ledge in particular, were made to imitate what had been previously viewed by the makers or to exem­ plify what had been learned through oral tradition. The most likely places to consider as source for the lion form in Grand Ledge are the similar industrial potteries in Ohio that made drain tile and sewer pipe. The Zanesville, Ohio, area was especially noted for this type of pottery acti­ vity, and lions that resemble those made in Grand Ledge were also created in some of these Ohio potteries. Quite naturally there may have been some sharing from state to state because of the migration of workers to other pot­ teries, as previously noted in the case of American Vitri­ fied Products of Grand Ledge. Census listings and recol­ lections of workers at both Grand Ledge Clay Products and American Vitrified recall molders and branchers coming up to Grand Ledge to work. Folk traditions are perhaps best understood as com­ munication processes. Oral transmission and imitation are primary agents for communicating ideas or patterns of behavior in folk expression. Folklore or folklife is true to its own nature when it takes place within the group (limited community) itself. In sum, folklore is artistic g communication in small groups. The form of the lion was the result of just this process of conception. Workers learned to make the extensive number of lions by imitating other workers and by following the oral lessons of their 102 Clay lion with scalloped base. 103 Clay lion by Fred Friend, c. 1936. 104 Clay lion with mane incised with pencil lines. 105 Clay lion by Devillo Cole. 106 Clay lion by Zona Kelly, c. 1935. 107 Clay lion. « 108 fellow workers. The earliest known Grand Ledge lion was made by Emery Marvin in 1901. A steady stream of lions continued to emerge from the kilns of both industrial potteries until the 1940s. These clay creations were made with a basic handmade mold that was utilized at one time or another by different workers. While the molds did pro­ vide a certain uniformity to the product, the end result varied somewhat depending on the artist's ability to com­ bine the necessary technical skill and aesthetic elements. One worker, Harry Poole, described the process of making a lion in this fashion: Just before noon some fellows would take some clay and pack the molds tightly. Alot of the molds were not filled properly and the lions never came out right. We would then set the mold aside until the next day when we would take the lion out of the mold and smooth it all out by lick­ ing your thumb. Some guys put tongues in their lions by using a knife to make the mouth open and then rolling some molding clay. The paws, tail, and mane were fixed up using a knife or pencil. Then the lion was placed on a sand-covered board and put in the kiln with the tile. The baking time for the production of tile and drain pipe was about three days in the large kilns, and the lions generally remained in the kilns for almost the entire per­ iod. According to Poole, some workers were less than honest than others, for it was a fairly common event for lions to be stolen out of the kilns. I always put my lions up high because I was tall, just inside the door. When the kilns were just starting to cool some guys 109 would wet their hands and put a handker­ chief over their mouth . . . and when no one was lookin' slip into the kiln an' steal a lion . . . One time I saw someone get a shiner who had a lion in his dinner pail with someone else's initials on it. The molds were made from plaster of Paris. During the time in the kiln the molded lions were usually subjected to the same salt glaze that the production pottery received. After they were dried and culled they were home as usually taken gifts for the families and friends of the makers. However, occasionally, as one worker recalls, they could be sold to people in town. He remembers that he "made two g lions one night and sold 'em for 25£ and 50£ each." The bases of the lions were decorated in varied styles. Using a knife, stick, or a rubber mold, the workers gave some of the bases a fluted or fringe-like effect. Other bases were simply signed with the initials of the maker, or in some cases the complete name and date would be added such as on the Emery Marvin 1901 lion. accomplished finish: A few even displayed a more they were stamped with the words Grand Ledge, Michigan. Even today, the pieces being pro­ duced often are marked with a stamp that reads G. L. Clay and the name of the maker and date are incised by hand. Banks were also made from the same lion molds by hol­ lowing out the lion. Cutting a slot in the top of the lion's head (just in front of the mane) and eliminating the conventional base. One such bank was given a two-tone finish by applying different color glazes to the body and Clay lion bank made by Harry Childs in 1908 with two colors of glaze. Ill Clay lion bank. t 112 the mane of the lion. Unlike the many lion doorstops, lion banks were rarely produced. Because they were espec­ ially susceptible to breakage because of their hollowness, not to mention the obvious breakage to retrieve money, few examples have survived. The lions made by the workers at both potteries were depicted in generally accurate proportions with a sculpted mane and strong facial character. The legs and paws seem to be relaxed and yet quite lifelike. The tail usually sweeps around and under the back of the left leg. A care­ ful review of the formal properties of all the lions reveals that the traditional proportions were approximately nine inches in length, in height. four inches wide, and five inches Common practice dictated that the underside of the base is hollowed out somewhat to ensure even drying. The final results varied according to the subtle innova­ tions of each worker. However, when set in series as stressed by Henri Focillon, these objects reveal a pattern and order that is readily apparent. By examining what ele­ ments that are maintained in common over time, a basic structural form remains constant. Undoubtedly, the Grand Ledge lion became an outlet for artistic expression by the workers who were accustomed to rigorous nine-hour work days. Since, for a long time, most of the clay was loaded by hand, the jobs at the potteries were arduous and demanding. One worker's widow recalled that, "It took a strong back and a weak mind to work 113 there. Yet it was during these long days that employees, created their own artistic diversions and modes of selfexpression in clay. Although the industrial revolution signaled the decline of many folk traditions in America, folk expression found new avenues for maintenance and growth. Industrial conditions such as those in Grand Ledge brought together a community of workers who established their own traditional patterns of interaction and expression. The creative acti­ vity of these workers demonstrates the formation and per­ sistence of a local material folk tradition. In addition, the ongoing series of behaviors associated with learning new skills and the reinforcement of these practices under­ scores the interactional process upon which folk traditions are dependent. In the case of the clay lions, these crea­ tions became the most traditional identifiable form of material culture that resulted. Even though lions were by far the most popular folk pottery subject, many other subjects were attempted by pot­ tery workers. As is often the case in a traditional com­ munity activity, certain individuals take on a more active role in participating in the tradition and encouraging the development of the tradition. In Grand Ledge, certain employees attempted new forms such as turtles, alligators, frogs, coiled snakes, cats, dogs, mice, birds, and human figures. Animals were understandably popular subjects for the potter, but another recurring subject was the sculpted 114 tree trunk, which served as the form for urns, planters, umbrella stands, and other practical containers. These tree trunk shapes exhibit considerable variation, but they share in common the attempt to simulate an exterior of bark and often stylized stumps of branches. For the creation of such a container, one worker gave this explanation, "[I] took a section of pipe, then took molding clay to look like bark . . . you go up like that . . . [thumb motion] to make bark . . . then [use] molding clay to look like branches." 12 Practical and ingenious potters created variations of this form that were as endless as the imaginations of the pot­ ters themselves. Even cemetery planter urns and markers were made in Grand Ledge. These containers and the many animal and human creations were not made from molds (although some molds were made from the more successful creations) as these pieces were largely made by free hand molding. Consequently, there were many failures due to improper drying and finishing. Pottery workers also experimented by making molds from other sculpted animal pieces of mementos from home that could be cast in clay. Consequently, clay casting of Abraham Lincoln and even religious articles such as a small figure of Jesus was used as a mold for a number of rep­ licas. The practice of pottery making in Grand Ledge and the individual pieces of pottery can be studied as a survival of an earlier established tradition. This approach 115 Horseshoe clay ashtray made by Roy Poole, c. 1925. Clay mouse by Allard Poole, c. 1920. 116 m M i Small clay dogs by Tom Carter, c. 1935. 117 Clay cowboy mounted on ashtray or container. Clay bear by Roy Poole, c. 1930 Clay tree trunk lamp base made by Harry Poole, c. 1930. 120 Clay planter by Roy Poole, c.,1925 121 Clay planter by Roy Poole, c. 1935. 122 Clay water cooler. 123 Clay casting of Abraham Lincoln. 124 Clay Figure of Jesus, c. 1950. 125 Clay grave marker, Clinton County, Michigan. 126 stresses the principles of historical reconstruction: recording the technical elements in the pottery making, changing circumstances in the community, and formal analysis pottery compared over time. By asking questions related to how the material folk culture tradition has survived, an understanding of local historical developments can emerge. The art of the potter has a rich cultural history that can be traced back to the transitional phase between the Paleolithic and the Neolithic age or from approximately 8000 to 4000 B.C. The fascination with pottery as a creative and utilitarian form was not only to flourish through the Middle Ages but also would find fertile ground in the new world. A recent survey of early business records and diaries in this country concluded that, "The number of potters who were plying their trade in New England at an early date is astonishing . . . a list of about seven hundred early potters has been compiled and at least three hundred were at work before 1800." 14 Early American potteries primarily produced pots for baking, serving, and storage. A typical early American pottery was dependent on a local source of clay and was operated by an individual potter who conducted work in his own outbuilding or barn. An examination of some of the early accounts of itinerant potters reveals that, because of the ready ease of transporting a potter's wheel, the potter moved accord­ ing to the supply of clay and local level competition. Quite naturally, additional procedures in potting lent 127 themselves toward a more stable work environment, since the kiln, grinding mill, glaze mill, drying shelves, and tubs for storing clay were not easily transported. The process of throwing a pot always began with the digging of clay, which was then washed to cleanse it of impurities before milling. Storage racks were filled with small quantities of clay that were set aside for seasoning before use by the potter. Most pot shops were one-man or family businesses, but apprentices or assistants were often taken on to learn the trade. The common notion that a potter produced one type of pottery at a time is accu­ rate, but similar objects were made in series such as jugs, crocks, or churns of identical size. Upon its completion, the pot was set out for drying in a location that varied according to the season. Decoration of the pot concluded with glazing and firing in what was virtually always a roughly fashioned brick or stove kiln. The folk tradition surrounding pottery making was well established and has led one scholar of American pottery to conclude: An important consideration in this craft is the fact that it was governed by tradi­ tion and its practice required a long per­ iod of preparation. Apprentices were bound out to be master potters for a term of seven years; during the time they were taught every branch of the potters a r t , from the preparation of the clay to turn­ ing, glazing, and burning the ware. This long apprenticeship assured that the young craftsman would be able to turn a series of forms rapidly without reference to measure­ ments and that he would have absolute 128 control of the thickness of each form. A study of thousands of fragments shows that the latter skill was practically invar­ iable.0 The practice of pottery making was carried on effectively with local and regional variations supported by the oral tradition associated with the apprenticeship process. Two traditions of pottery making dominated early pot­ tery activity in early America: earthenware and stoneware. The heydays of earthenware pottery has been roughly identi­ fied to be during the period from 1640 to 1787. By the early 1700s, stoneware pottery had appeared on the American scene, eventually overtaking earthenware in popularity after the American Revolution and through the nineteenth -I g century. Some speculation has indicated that the "demand for sturdier vessels and the popular opposition to the use of toxic lead glazes" were responsible for the decline in popularity of earthenware. Redware and earthenware pottery has been characterized as "soft and porous, oozing moisture from liquids placed in it and dangerous to health on account of its lead glaze" as compared to the "harder ceramic" or stoneware which is burned at a much "higher temperature and given a coating or glaze by means of salt thrown into the kiln at the greatest heat of burning." 17 The production of earthenware pottery required only a single firing, after which the pots were placed on the drying racks in preparation for the later steps of firing and glazing. Lead glazes, while clear in 129 color, accentuated the yellow, brown or red coloration of the original clay. The somewhat confusing names of red- ware, yellowware, brownware, and whiteware were all used to designate earthenware according to the primary color of the pottery produced. Earthenware pottery is produced from a simple clay fired at temperatures between 800° and 900°C. The amount of lime and other minerals in the clay as well as the fir­ ing temperature affect the final color of the pottery: high iron content in the clay, for example, accounts for the degree of redness in the earthenware after firing. Glazes were normally applied with a ladle or sprayed onto the pots. Incising of a decoration was widely practiced and frequently resulted in revealing the color of clay beneath the glaze. A particularly common method of deco­ rating earthenware was the sgrafitto technique in which two different colored slips were carefully poured on the pot to create an image or word. Some potters even used a deco­ rative process comparable to applique work, in which small bits of molding clay were shaped by hand or molded and then applied to the pot before glazing. Because glazes were con­ sidered relatively expensive to make, they were generally used sparingly. The stoneware tradition of pottery making followed the popularity of earthenware. The character of the clay required for stoneware is dramatically different than that used for earthenware, whereas earthenware could be made 130 from "common" clay. The temperatures up to and exceeding 1400°C that were used to fire stoneware produced a "vitri­ fied" effect that gave almost a glass-like finish. The final application of a salt glaze over this effect resulted in a thin layer of natrium glass over the piece. New Jersey and Delaware were the early centers for stone­ ware since they were the locations for the supply of high temperature firing clays. Because stoneware had a finer and less porous finish, it began to replace earthenware very quickly shortly after it was developed. Many earthenware potters experimented with local clays and imported better grades of clay in order to enter the stoneware market. Unfortunately, the supplies were limited and transportation was often complicated. Even where high-temperature firing clay was available, many folk potters found that raising the kiln temperatures to the necessary levels for stoneware was an insurmountable prob­ lem. Thus, geographical factors combined with community expectations challenged the economic stability of the local family potter. New factory methods were tried to increase temperatures and improve the techniques for loading kilns. The salt glazing technique was a traditional German tech­ nique that was readily adopted by the American potter. Throwing salt into the kiln after the pottery was com­ pletely fired caused "the salt to volatilize into a vapor which combined the free silica in the clay body, covering the ware with a thin mottled glaze." 18 The earliest form 131 of decorations on stoneware were rudimentary designs of letters, numbers, animals, birds, flowers or stylized ele­ ments. After the introduction of cobalt, cobalt blue slips were common. Responding to local community demands, stone­ ware potters produced a large volume of primarily durable and functional pots such as jugs, bottles, urns, crocks, and churns. Technological innovations eventually led to standardization and the use of machinery to mold pottery. Before the end of the nineteenth century, these processes had begun to replace the local folk tradition of the family potter who previously prospered. However, some local pot­ teries in isolated communities retained their distinctive ways, perhaps in part due to their strong traditional sup­ port in their communities. The eventual demise of the family potters was felt in communities like Grand Ledge, Michigan. The Loveless and Harrington potteries were replaced by industrial potteries such as Grand Ledge Sewer Pipe Company. tradition in pottery making Building on a that rested on the rich supply of local clay and a community that was well acquainted with the products that could be made from clay, the pottery tradition continued in Grand Ledge. For individual potters, the industrial pottery phase was decidedly different than the family pottery period. Now employed in larger numbers with a division of labor, work­ ers learned their particular duties as molders, branchers, press operators, loaders, kiln setters, or clay 132 laborers. The new division of labor proved to be econo­ mically successful but the folk experience of the early pottery operation had undergone a major overhaul. As indi­ cated earlier, the new products of their labor, the drain tile, sewer pipe, and industrial tiles could no longer be considered folk pottery. And yet, a form of folk expres­ sion did develop that was consistent with the values asso­ ciated with traditional folk pottery. Workers fashioned and molded clay lions, animals and functional objects all on their own and for their own use. Whether given as gifts to family, relatives, or neighbors — or sold for 25£ — these examples of material folk culture illustrates the persistent nature of folk expression — even in an indus- trial-like setting. The folk pottery made by workers such as Roy Poole demonstrate the notion that the folk process is indeed first and foremost a communication process. Roy Poole learned to make lions from his fellow workers at both American Vitrified Products and Grand Ledge Clay Products Companies. 19 During his years at the potteries, he fashioned numerous animals from clay for this own pleasure to decorate his house and garden. gators, He made turtles, alli­ frogs, coiled snakes, lamp bases, ashtrays, and assorted containers. Many of his pieces were large and heavy. For example, his turtles were twelve inches in dia­ meter. His hand-fashioned turtles had shells incised with deeply scored shell-like patterns; extended appendages 133 Clay turtle by Roy Poole, c. 1935. 134 Clay alligator by Roy Poole, c. 1935. 135 Clay frog by Roy Poole, c. 1935. 136 Clay ashtray by Roy Poole with his initials MR C P" and a pipe appliqued on the sides, c. 1935. Clay lamp base incised with the words "Grand Ledge" by Roy Poole. 138 were also finished with incised claws. Other workers seemed to have followed Roy Poole's example because numer­ ous examples of turtles and frogs can still be found today. Created in spare moments while on the job, these objects reveal the existence of a lively social intercourse among many of the workers. Similar forms coming from many hands and finally ending up in the homes of pottery workers, these examples of material folk culture illustrate the undercurrent of folk expression that prospers right along side the dominant popular culture. The lasting character of this folk tradition of pot­ tery making at the industrial potteries of Grand Ledge is perpetuated today by workers such as Jim Brighton and Shirley Sedore. Employees of Grand Ledge Clay Products, they fashion some of the same animals out of clay that workers of previous generations did. explore new ideas in clay. In addition, they Jim Brighton was originally a press operator and his father, Virgo, had also been an employee of Grand Ledge Clay Products. Jim Brighton proudly acknowledges that now, "I can do everything here" (all the jobs). 20 Among the skills he is most proud of is that he can make by hand the "p-traps" and other curved pipes. In recent years he has worked extensively in the molding room alongside fellow worker, Shirley Sedore, in making clay objects. Shirley, a long-time employee, recalled watching others at work making lions, frogs, and other creations. One form stuck in his mind — a sheep. 139 He made a plaster of Paris mold of a sheep which prompted he and Jim Brighton to explore a variety of old and new forms — inclulding planters and even a "whiskey bottle." 21 They refer to the old forms as "old timers’ and each has some special old forms they take pride in maintaining almost as caretakers of the tradition. Each piece they make is signed, dated, and stamped with a "G. L. Clay Pro­ ducts" stamp. Clearly, the two recognize their connection with the past, and yet, they describe their creative efforts in the most mundane way. Says Jim Brighton of the clay pottery pieces, " I t ’s just something to do." 22 They 03 make the pieces for gifts and "the wives like it." But most importantly, their creative efforts provide personal expression as they talk, joke and share ideas with one another. The persistence of folk traditions can be illustrated in many ways, and the folk pottery activity in Grand Ledge is but one example. The ongoing character of this material folk culture tradition challenges the contention that the industrial revolution has eliminated the folk experience in America. Material culture can serve as primary evi­ dence for the often vital nature of folk expression in everyday situations such as the workplace. The folk pot­ tery of Grand Ledge can be viewed as a folk art tradition that serves as an indicator of the historical processes at work in the community as well as an indicator of human capability. While the community of Grand Ledge has Grand Ledge Clay Products stamp used by Jim Brighton and Shirley Sedore. Molds for figure of Jesus and Indian bust bookends. 142 undergone social and economic change, the folk pottery activity remains stable as workers continue to participate in the oral traditions of the past and nurture new var­ iants for today. Form Follows Function — Or Does It? In the course of doing fieldwork in Grand Ledge and asking the question, "Are you familiar with the clay lions that were made at the potteries?", usually resulted, "Sure, almost every house in town used to have one for a doorstop." geration, the same basic reply 24 No doubt this was an exag­ for not every house did, but they were indeed used in many homes in Grand Ledge. .1. Material culture scho­ lars who rely on functionalism to explain such a phenomenon, would naturally ask why was this lion doorstop form useful in this community environment. Anthropologists, folklor­ ists, and art historians have all utilized this approach with some success. Simon Bronner has written of this approach: Like cultural geographers, material func­ tionalists assume that culture is integra­ tive, but rather than accept diffusion pro­ cesses as a sufficent explanation for trans­ mission of tradition, they sought to find the reason in the "usefulness" of the object to its natural environment. Utility of artifacts within the context of a tech­ nological system, whether it be a farm, house or landscape, provides keys to under­ standing transmission and adaptation, they argued. Utility alone did not indicate function; the relationship of an object or process in an integrated system of inter­ related, such as the chimney's role in the operation of a house, did. Material 143 function, then, parallels biological func­ tion by contributing to the working of a system, and corresponds to mathematical function because a direct relationship exists between parts of the cultural system. To understand the occurrence and persistence of the lion form, one must consider its emergence, and the its initial uses, change that takes place over time. who study material folk culture Functionalists have stressed the value of conducting such research in a particular community or cul­ tural setting. Much of the early writing on folk arts was colored by a view that suggested that folk art was "well-crafted deco­ rative household items where the artisan's involvement in fashioning an object resulted in aesthetically pleasing artistic expression." 26 However, the Grand Ledge lion form did not begin as a well-crafted decorative household item. The lions were made, as noted earlier, by workers for their own use as "bookends, doorstops, or just for the fun of making one." 27 Thus, the artisan approach of fulfilling a specific use in the community of Grand Ledge is not a sufficient explanation of their making. Rather, the pro­ duction and use of lions seemed to have taken on a local value that while linked to some practical value, such as propping the door open, had a more complex symbolic value in the community. As a doorstop, bookend, planter, ashtray, umbrella stand or cemetery urn — the folk pottery pieces made in 144 Grand Ledge did find a use in the context of a "technological system." 28 What is especially worth noting is the changing "use" that these objects were put to over the last eighty some years since the first lions were made. The lion form is perhaps the most valuable form to examine as it has remained essentially the same and it found wide acceptance among home owners as a doorstop. Many of the examples found today are chipped in the corners due to their use in catching the door. While oral tradition reveals the widespread appeal of the lion doorstop in Grand Ledge, the lions were found almost exclusively in Grand Ledge — and not in the surrounding communities of Potter- ville, Vermontville, Lansing, Eagle, and Westphalia. The lion represents a form that has remained stable over time and has been clearly linked to a cultural geographic locale. In the last decade, there has been a growing interest in the history of the town of Grand Ledge. Like many towns, in preparation for the bicentennial, local history has become a rallying point for many citizens. This field­ work project contributed in part to the local interest in the pottery past of the community. Appreciation for the Grand Ledge lion in particular, did not necessarily begin in the last decade, as many of the examples documented in this study were already found to be applied in a new "use" in the homes of Grand Ledge. While some examples were found in basements, barns, or in storage — surprisingly many were on mantlepieces, in china cabinets, or in a 145 Clay lion by Alpha Waldron with his ini­ tials and the date November 12, 1903 incised in the base. 146 Clay lion bookends made by Fred Friend, c. 1910. *■ 147 position of deocrative prominence in the home. No longer employed for the previous function as doorstops — they had been elevated to a new symbolic function as locally made decorative art object. The folklorist Wilhelm Nicolaisen has referred to this secondary use of a folk culture object as a "distorted function" when functional shifts of old, traditional objects were used in new ways in contemporary settings. 29 Even though this functionlist response is quite obvious, the emphasis on original function is also quite limited, for the original appeal and use of the Grand Ledge lion cannot be explained simply by its successful form following function. Rather, the appeal and persis­ tence of the form may best be understood from a symbolic or structuralist perspective. Functional Meaning: The Lion as Folk Symbol "Rarely a week went by without somethin' being* made." 30 This assessment of the prevalence of workers' handiwork by a pottery worker in Grand Ledge demonstrates popularity of this folk tradition among the workers. As makers themselves or as associates of the artists who made these pieces, the workers at the potteries in Grand Ledge attached particular functional meaning to the pieces that were made. Often difficult to decode, these objects retain symbolic meanings for the makers and users that can reveal a great deal about a community and its people. Franz Boas believed that to reach this level of 148 Clay lion by unknown artist. 149 understanding the place to start is with the object-maker. Boas wrote, "We have to turn our attention first of all to the artist to understand ’material culture."' 31 In addi­ tion, however, one must also consider the user — social context — the to reveal the full meaning. In a perceptive article entitled "Seven Ways to Look at an Artifact," Fred E. H. Schroeder proposed that objects can be understood in a number of different ways — and yet the most complex and most meaningful way rests in what he terms the "functional meaning" of an object. 32 On this level, the way an object works in a practical sense is not essential; rather the "aesthetic, mythical and iconological" value in society of the object becomes critical. Therefore, the feelings that people express about a "thing" are central to an object's functional meaning. The example Schroeder employs is a candle which on one level merely provides light but in a religious service — takes on spiritual and symbolic values for those who parti­ cipate in the creation and traditional use of the object. Such shared experiences of the pottery workers as the cus­ toms, communications, and patterns of behaviors are in part expressed in the creation and use of the lion and other pottery forms. Workers took special pride in not only creating these pieces, they often competed with each other and, as noted earlier, even fought over the results. In the interviews with each pottery maker, it was apparent that the artists took personal satisfaction in making 150 particular forms that were identified as products. locally hand-made Community response supported the production of folk pottery and it became a local tradition to have a lion doorstop, a planter or other objects from "the pot­ teries." These visual statements provided identification with both an occupation and a geographic resource, the clay, that were distinctive of Grand Ledge. Made by labor­ ers, not artisans, these examples of material folk culture served as symbols of workers' acceptance and identifica­ tion with their work and their community. Interviews with workers support the conclusion that the potteries never provided a middle-class standard of living. Rather, it was work to fall back on if you could not leave Grand Ledge for higher paying jobs in Lansing or Detroit. 33 For the workers who did stay or who followed their fathers who had worked at the potteries, the work in the.clay pits, molding rooms or kilns was hard work — but it was "Grand Ledge work."**4 The many accounts of the way certain pottery workers explored new pottery forms or reproduced traditional pot­ tery forms was as much a part of the symbolic meaning of the object as the formal properties of the object. Mater­ ial folk culture can and should be understood as a process of communication. Social meanings of objects, however, are usually signaled by structural arrangements within objects. It is in the sense that the lion as a structural arrangement takes on the most significant symbolic meaning 151 for Grand Ledge. The many other items created from clay demonstrate best the human capabilities of the workers and the fertile psychological state of many of the pottery employees. The lion though, because of its dominance in terms of numbers produced and widespread use in the com­ munity, can be viewed as a structural form that workers and community alike identified with as their own. It serves as a valuable indicator of the interactional processes that were at work during the time the tradition was most active. Lions were found in the homes of not only the laborers, but also the homes of merchants and locally-prominent citi­ zens . The growing penchant to use local history as a source for boosterism has recently begun to alter the symbolic meaning of the pottery in general and of the Grand Ledge lion in particular. Nicolaisen's ’’distorted function" concept is not as readily applicable to the modified use of objects, such as the lion's movement from doorstop to china cabinet, for much of the symbolic meaning remains constant. But, recent efforts at making plaster of Paris lions of a smaller size for local gifts shops, the use of the lion as a logo on historical society letterhead and other similar developments serve to alter the original form for a new message. 35 These new uses are unconnected with the initial functional meaning this folk art form had for workers and community members except perhaps for those, such as Shirley Sedore and Jim Brighton, who still participate in the 152 tradition. The original symbolic and structural character of the lion form relies on both conscious and unconsious meanings that informants attach to such a folk tradition. Analysis of the symbolic functional meaning of folk objects does though offer a means of understanding of the tenacious character of many folk art traditions which defy explana­ tion based on theories based on practical usefulness and/or diffusion. In concert, these approaches can reveal the dynamic nature of material folk culture. Chapter IV Footnotes ^See Herbert G. Gutman, Work. Culture, and Society in Industrializing America (New York: Vintage Books/ Random House, 1966, 1977), p. 16. o A conference was held in March, 1983, to address all these issues. Sponsored by the Center for Folklore and Mythology and the School of Management at UCLA, the con­ ference brought together folklorists and organizational behaviorists. 3 See Simon J. Bronner, "Links to Behavior: Chain Carv­ ing in Southern Indiana," paper presented at American Folk­ lore Society Meeting, 1980; Michael Owen Jones, The HandMade Object and Its Maker (Berkeley, C a l . : University of California, 1975), p. 68. 4 John Atlee Kouwenhoven, "Art, Disorder, and American Experience: Half a Truth is Better Than None," in The Arts in a Democratic S o c iety, ed. Dennis Alan Mann (Bowling Green, Ohio: Popular Press, 1977), p. 71; also see John Atlee Kouwenhoven, "American Studies: Words or Things?" in American Studies in Transition ed. Marshall W. Fishwick (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1964), pp. 15-35. 153 154 See Gregory Kubler, "The Arts: Fine and Plain," in Perspectives on American Folk A r t . ed. Ian M. G. Quiraby and Scott T. Swank (New York: W. W. Norton Company, 1980), pp. 234-246. See Suzi Jones, Oregon Folklore (Eugene: University of Oregon, 1977), pp. 9-14. 7 Interview with Harry Poole, February 16, 1980. 8 Ibid. 9 Ibid. ^ I n t e r v i e w with Wayne Childs, January 2, 1980. ^ I n t e r v i e w with Mrs. Roy Poole, June 15, 1976. ■ ■■ T O " " ' ■ ■' ■ - Interview with Harry Poole, February 16, 1980. 13 Gerhard Kaufmann, North German Folk Pottery of the 17th to the 20th Centuries (Richmond, V a . : Exhibitions Foundation, 14 International 1979), p. 13. Lura Woodside Watkins, Early New England Pottery (Sturbridge, Mass.: Old Sturbridge Village, 1966), p. 1. 15Ibid. If? Harold F. Guilland, Early American Folk Pottery (Philadelphia: 17 Chilton Book Company, 1971), p. 3. Lura Woodside Watkins, Early New England Pottery. p. 15. 18 Harold F. Guilland, Early American Folk Pottery. p. 57. 1Q Interview with Mrs. Roy Poole, June 15, 1976. ^ I n t e r v i e w with Jim Brighton, May 15, 1981 (Shirley Sedore also present). 155 21 Ibid. This bottle only resembles the shape of an old whiskey bottle. 22Ibid. 2 3 Ibid. 24 This comment was first collected from George MacDowell in July, 1975. 25 Simon J. Bronner, "Chain Carvers in Southern Indiana: A Behavioristic Study in Material Culture" (Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 1981), pp. 41-42. Beatrix T. Rumford, Abbv Aldrich Rockefeller Collec­ tion Guide (Williamsburg, V a . : Colonial Williamsburg, 1975), p. 9. 27 28 Interview with Harry Poole, February 16, 1980. See Simon J. Bronner, "Chain Carvers in Southern Inaiana: A Behavioristic Study in Material Culture," p. 42. nq Wilhelm Nicolaisen, "Distorted Function in Material Aspects of Culture," Folklore Forum 12 (1979), pp. 223-226. 30 31 Interview with Dale Brown, January 2, 1980. Franz Boas, Primitive Art (New York: Dover Publi­ cations, Inc., 1927, 1955), p. 155. 32 Fred E. H. Schroeder, "Designing Your Exhibits: Seven Ways to Look at an Artifact," History News 31 (11) November, 33 1976, pp. 62-69. Interview with Dale Brown, January 2, 1980. 3 4 Ibid. 35 These developments have all taken place since the inception of this study. CHAPTER V POLK EXPRESSION AND COMMUNITY IDENTITY Understanding the influence of industrial development on local community cultural traditions can perhaps best be achieved by coming to know community members. Historian Herbert Gutman has cautioned scholars that while E. P. Thompson has written, growth which is not, at the same time, growth or change a culture"1 — "There is no such thing as economic of Gutman adds, "Yet we should not assume any automatic, or ever-direct correspondence between the dyna­ mic or economic growth and the dynamic of social or cultural life." 2 This warning has been proven to be justified based on the work of historians such as Clyde Griffen, Virginia Yan McLaughlin, Philip Greven, and John Demos who have demonstrated the power of ethnicity, religion, or family as a source of stability and resilience for com3 munity groups during periods of economic change. In the community of Grand Ledge, the replacement of the earlier family potteries by the larger industrial pottery opera­ tions had a significant local impact on the pottery 156 157 Clay face by unknown artist. 158 production, however, occupational folk traditions did per­ sist and new folk traditions developed blending the new cultural traditions with the old. It is worth noting that much of the literature that has appeared on the relationship between folk traditions and urbanization has examined examples of traditions that have been transplanted to growing cities. Ellen Stekert, in the foreword to The Urban Experience and Folk Tradition, acknowledged that most of the work represented in this vol­ ume were studies of "traditions that have been acted on by the metropolis" and that "traditions that originated and developed in the urban milieu are explored only fleet4 ingly." This fleeting treatment of distinctively urban folklore in the folklore literature has also been noted by the folklorist Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, whose criti­ cism of the failure of folklorists to take up the challenge of the urban folk experience is acknowledged by Richard Dorson in the introduction of his book, Folklore in the 5 Modern W orld. Kirshenblatt-Giblett has asserted that the published papers produced in conjunction with the confer­ ence were "Studying imported folk traditions rather than indigenous matter, in the fashion of the discredited survivalists. They did so because folklorists could readily identify immigrant-ethnic groups in the city and knew how to deal with them."® Kirshenblatt-Gimblett identified three trends in the study of imported urban folklore: 159 1) an interest in the mere persistence of the old traditions as memory culture; 2) an interest in the urban induced changes in the old traditions; 3) the urban revitalization_and renais­ sance of old folk forms. While clearly there is much to be gained by following these approaches to the study of folk traditions in urban set­ tings, these are not the concerns of this study. The folk pottery tradition in Grand Ledge represent a human visual expression that grows out of human needs and responses to work (and life) in a community that also is undergoing economic growth. An Insider's View; Occupational Identity and Self Expression There is a decidedly different approach to depictions of the urban work settings and work experience depending on whether one is an insider or an outsider to the work experience. The paintings of the Ford River Rouge Plants in Detroit by Charles Sheeler on the Diego Rivera Murals at the Detroit Institute of Arts both have as their primary O subject the workplace. Both Sheeler and Rivera were out­ siders to the workplace they painted even though they found meaning in both the formal design and the human activity of work. In contrast, the workers at the clay factories of Grand Ledge produced works of art in clay that grew out of traditional patterns of work and personal expression as insiders to the world of work in a growing industrialized setting. 160 While the depictions of the work setting or manipulat­ ing the materials of work may vary greatly depending on the role of the artist as insider or outsider to the work setting, there are some constants in the functions that art serves for society. Alan Gowans, in his book, On Parallels in Universal H i s t o r y , has identified the activity of art making as serving at least one, and sometimes all of four basic functions that art performs in and for society. These four functions are as follows: 1) Substitute imagery — preserving the physical appearance of persons or things; 2) Illustration — telling stories or recording events in pictorial form; 3) Conviction and persuasion — making tangible symbols and visual metaphors of ideas and beliefs which a given society collectively holds, or, it is felt, ought to hold; 4) Beautification — ornamenting or design­ ing objects so as to identify their use and relate them to human experience. Gowans probably would agree that art as we know it today still functions in the same ways, only the Mmodes" of art change. The creations in clay executed by workers in Grand Ledge can be measured against Gowans' basic functions of art. In each of the four areas, examples can be given of the way this pottery tradition performs the function of art both in and for the community. To more fully understand the relationship between the pottery makers as artists and the community of Grand Ledge, four brief biographical por­ traits of individuals who represent insiders' views of the folk pottery tradition will be presented. 161 Voices From the Pottery Community Harry Poole: Former Pottery Worker I started when I was sixteen. I lied about my age — I hate to say it. I learned it was hard work but I quit school and I went to work. I found out what hard work was. I enjoyed the work though. I enjoyed the things we made. Back then you did every­ thing by hand — now they are more up to date. We had to lift the tile to put them on our shoulders — put them in the kilns — set the kiln then do another one. Many of the boys are gone now. duit tile, chimney goods, sewer that stuff. I enjoyed it, then there to working the machinery, tile, then working the presses. We made con­ pipe — all I went from making the You see now, they've got electric lifts, tractors, trucks — it was all by^hand then — now everything is up to snuff. Harry Poole has lived in Grand Ledge all his eightythree years. His experience at the clay factories as an employee seems quite typical of a number of "the boys" of his generation. The work was hard but he looks back on it as a source of pride — not so much for what he made in clay but for the interaction with his work group. The material culture tradition that he took part in with his fellow workers was but one part of the informal communi­ cative acts that contributed to a sense of a folk community in an urbanizing town. Like other elder informants, the past is colored by their current situation. Harry Poole clearly appreciates not having to work hard today, and the toil involved in the work years ago now is conveyed in long narrative accounts or short stories such as this one he has often repeated: 162 Harry Poole being interviewed by Kurt Dewhurst in his home, January, 1980. 163 The work was hard for nine hours a day. I remember a guy came down from Greenville looking for work. He was a lot bigger, stockier — after lunch [and a morning's work] he didn't come back. I saw him later in town and he said, "I know when I've had enough, that's back breaking work." He didn't even come back for his check. — But I enjoyed the work. Harry Poole relies heavily still on his former role as pottery worker to define who he is to others. Even though many years have passed since he worked there, he describes himself as one of the boys from the pottery. There remains another group, the old employees of "the chair factory" who did socialize together at the taverns and card rooms in - :1ft ' town. The work affiliation continues to be a powerful force for social stability and organization as the stories from years past are retold and the emerging community interest in the folk pottery pieces, such as the lions, have increased this sense of affiliation. Harry Poole relished the opportunity to describe the process of making a Grand Ledge lion and to talk about his interaction with others during the making of these pieces. It would take about a full week to make a lion. You had to pack the mold with your fist. You had to put it in the kiln — used to use a piece of flue liner and put some sand on it and put them up high in the kiln. The next thing is to get them out without someone swiping them. Now they got a fan to cool them off — before they used to take the door down so far, us boys would put a handkerchief over our mouths and then go in and get 'em Some of them way in the back you had to wait. One guy took one and they got in a fight and he dropped one. Then they decided not to go in until it [the kiln] cools down. 164 The only way then you could get one would be to take a chance. You used to be able to put1|our lions up high so they get the glaze. Recurring elements in Harry P o o l e ’s description of his past work are its difficulty and the danger involved in working around the kilns. The creation of the lions required ’’determination” to make one and make sure no one else spirited the lion away. The actual crafting of the lion or any other piece that he or a fellow worker attempted was a source of pride — particularly now in retrospect. These comments convey his sense of satisfaction with his abili­ ties and the possibility of other community members learn­ ing ’’art.” You could throw some clay on the board and then you could stand back and look at it and then make something out of it — you can make anything yj|t of clay — if you had an educated thumb. Harry Poole recalls making crocodiles, and even ashtrays from molding clay. lions, snakes, The contributions of Harry Poole and other early pottery workers in Grand Ledge may indeed be romanticized as a result of the new public appreciation of this largely overlooked local folk tradi­ tion. Harry P o o l e ’s account of his part of the process of the oral transmission of this pottery activity reveals aspirations and behaviors that are central to individual and group identity. 165 Homer Godfrey: Former Pottery Worker and Foreman Homer Godfrey worked as the foreman for just over his last twenty years at Grand Ledge Clay Products. His recol­ lections of his years spent at "clay products" are colored by his belief that his emphysema was a direct result of working in and around the kilns. While reluctant to talk much about it, he does express to friends that he feels that the owner of Grand Ledge Clay Products should at least admit that the problem of lung damage can occur for workers at Grand Ledge Clay Products. Homer Godfrey, when encouraged, will talk at length about the industrial pro­ duction of pottery, including all the recent improvements, as well as the interaction between workers at the pottery. Not only does Homer Godfrey have some vivid memories of workers engaged in making folk pottery pieces, but he was one of the more active and innovative workers who produced a wide assortment of items. Homer Godfrey recalls his decision to begin work out at Grand Ledge Clay Products in this way: I got involved along about the Great Depression. I was working out at the Reo and that got closed up and I went out to Grand Ledge Clay Products. The foreman out there had me promise that I would stay with him if I was given a job. It was alot of fun — a good place to work. I like to see things progress. I especially remember the major improvements such as mechanizing the hauling of clay from the pits and the "deairing process" of the clay where you take the air bubbles out of the clay with a vacuum process to eliminate 166 Homer Godfrey at his farm, 1979. 167 blisters. All in all I worked forty ,g years with Grand Ledge Clay Products. The owner of Grand Ledge Clay Products described Homer Godfrey as ’’the most innovative and the guy most adept at doing things with his hands — and his brain that we ever had around here [Grand Ledge Clay Products]." Godfrey knows the clay business. 16 Homer His knowledge of the technical processes of firing, glazing, kiln construction, molding, and basic engineering principles is a source of great personal pride. He is very modest. was raised by a Grand Ledge family. An orphan, he Homer Godfrey lives on a small farm with his wife, Angeline, to whom he is devoted, whose house and yard is decorated with Homer's clay creations. planters, Among the many pieces are clay frogs, cats, a bird, bookends, and ashtrays. He likes to tell others that he made these all for his wife. It is worth noting that his fellow workers said he made many molds for other items including lions, frogs, and bookends that they used in making pieces for themselves. Now retired, Homer Godfrey enjoys talking about the creativity of other workers at Grand Ledge Clay Products who fashioned their own folk pottery pieces. Homer Godfrey singles out two among his fellow workers who were outstand­ ing as folk pottery makers: Fred Friend was an artist in his own right. He made the original lion by hand and later made a mold of a simpler one — I am sure he did it. Fred Friend came from Ohio and was a real artist. 168 Emory Martin used to make umbrella stands. He liked to work with molding clay. He would shape up an umbrella stand from a green tile and then put globs of molding clay on thegoutside to make it look like tree bark. The use of molding room clay was only available to those who advanced to work in the molding room area. It was one of the more refined processes in the industrial production scheme. Clay was available to other workers in and around the kiln but the finer molding clay was kept moist and covered in bins. Homer Godfrey was one of those workers who did have access to the molding clay. He des­ cribed working with the' molding clay as a material that you had to ’’slap around before something would shape up." 19 Godfrey also liked to make pieces in clay that had a humor­ ous twist. He described some pieces that were made at Grand Ledge Clay Products such as ashtrays with female buttocks in the middle for setting a cigarette on and a half moon wall decoration with a woman on it. Though he never admitted making these pieces, other workers often indicated that such efforts probably were Homer Godfrey's or that he at least assisted in making them since he was so good with molding clay. One piece for which he did take credit since he "never cared for that guy" was a figure of Governor G. Mennen Williams in an unflattering pose. 20 One surprise that awaits any visitor to the Godfrey home today is that most all of the clay creations that are outdoors around the Godrey farmhouse are now painted pink. 169 Clay dog made by Homer Godfrey, c. 1950. 171 Clay cardinal by .Homer Godfrey. 172 It seems Mrs. Godfrey's favorite color is pink and since these were made for her, she gives them a new coat of paint every year or so. As folk pottery these pieces continue to function in the way they were originally intended to — as creations made for family and friends for their pleasure and use. Homer Godfrey is clearly an active participant in the folk pottery tradition that developed alongside of the industrial pottery activity in Grand Ledge. He nurtured it and contribuited greatly to it by sharing his knowledge with others. In the years that have followed, other work­ ers have imitated his work and some still utilize his molds keeping them in secret storage places for their own periodic u s e . Homer Godfrey's work at Grand Ledge Clay Products demonstrates the potential for one person to participate in folk expression and also to be attuned to new occupational technology. Clearly, the folk tradition and industrialization can exist side by side, although perhaps not fully compatibly. Bruce Decke: Industrial Pottery Owner Bruce Decke's grandfather was one of the original owners of Grand Ledge Clay Products. 21 His grandson's pride and genuine fascination with the pottery business has not waivered over the years. As he told a community g roup: You folks, if you haven't ever been out [to the Grand Ledge Clay Products Company] you ought to come out and take a trip through. It is one of the most interesting 173 Bruce Decke of Grand Ledge Clay Products (left), 1980. 174 businesses and you could learn something new every God darn day. I guess every­ body would be that way about their work. I don't know if I would ever want to get in to see Bernie Johnson drill some teeth [the local dentist] but I imagine he learns something everyday too. The busi­ ness and the product have not changed very much [over the years]. We used to make conduit tile before the 1937 fire when the dies were lost. My brother and I when we built a house in 1936 on Lincoln Street, we used the "culls" — the pieces that were seconds. We never made more conduit tile after the fire — now all the conduit is plastic. No way we could compete with the cost of gas. In fact the clay industry is hanging on by the skin of its teeth. We have, this year, taken on all kinds of side­ line products. We have had to diversify. The drain tile business may or may not come back sometime in the future. It d o e s n ’t seem that anyone cares about permanence anymore. They can take some of our competi­ tive plastic drain tile and lay it at jog­ ging speed. There's no way you can put clay tile in like that — no one knows how long it will last [the plastic tile] or do they care. In 1941 we had eighty-three people working at Grand Ledge Clay Products and now we have twenty-four . . . We never had the quality of clay for decorative pottery . . . most people don't see the beauty in our clay. Some guys made planters from the drain pipes but it's hard to find the guys like Homer Godfrey that got the vision and can make something . . . In the old days, there was alot of cooperation between the two plants [Grand Ledge Clay Products Company and Amerian Vitrified Products]. We used to talk about what you do about this or that — 2 now we are the only clay plant in the state. 2 Bruce Decke has taken a very strong interest in this study since its inception. He has shared all the company business records, including photographs and community employee records. Perhaps due to the fact that this now 175 is the last pottery operation in Michigan, he has become more aware of its somewhat distinctive past — sent. and pre­ His offices have examples of pieces of folk pottery made by workers available for viewing on window sills and near the counter where business is transacted. office he has a large lion made by Fred Friend. In his He claims little knowledge of how the folk pottery pieces were made, but he does recall that "they [the workers] were always making something." 23 It was not discouraged, and it served as a regular topic of informal discussion between the workers. Bruce Decke makes a special point of noting that a lot of people are creative and just do not get the chance to show it — guys work out here." and "we have had some real creative 24 Since the study has been conducted, Bruce Decke has assisted in unearthing more information on the early years of pottery activity by engaging other community members in long conservation. He also has made it possible for cur­ rent workers such as Shirley Sedore and Jim Brighton to sell some of their folk pottery creations at the front desk of the office. The knowledge that Grand Ledge Clay Pro­ ducts represents the last of the early businesses of Grand Ledge, has heighted the feelings that Bruce Decke has for his business. The examples of folk pottery pro­ duced at Grand Ledge Clay Products Company are primarily viewed by Bruce Decke as an indicator of human aesthetic capability but probably they have a closely 176 related meaning in what Michael Owen Jones would term an "index of cognitive and interactional processes." 25 The decline in sales of pottery is measured by Bruce Decke in numbers of employees and dollars. But Decke also recog­ nizes the decline in the interactional process — munication between workers — represent. the com­ that the folk pottery pieces The declining material folk cultural tradition of making clay lions and other items therefore should be understood as an index of the changing behavioral patterns within the occupational setting of the potteries. Jim Brighton: Pottery Worker Now age 33, Jim Brighton has worked at Grand Ledge Clay Products Company since he was eighteen. He is known as one of the workers who carries on the tradition of mak­ ing clay figures from molds as well as molding pieces exclusively by hand since the fall of 1980. He learned to make the folk pottery pieces by watching and talking with one of his co-workers, Shirley Sedore. Jim Brighton often refers to this work as "messing around in the molding room." Like workers of previous generations, he takes the objects he makes home to adorn his house and also gives many others away as gifts. Only recently has he tried to sell a few at the suggestion of Bruce Decke. Due to the recent appreciation of the folk tradition of pottery making at Grand Ledge Clay Products, Brighton insists on stamping 177 Jim Brighton in the molding room, 1982. 178 the bottoms of all the pieces he makes with a "G. L. Clay Products" stamp. Among the most rewarding aspects of making these folk pottery pieces is the opportunity to work closely with co-worker Shirley Sedore. The slower pace of business in recent years at the pottery has resulted in fewer workers being employed and additional free time. When asked what the activity of producing these pieces means to him, he responded in this fashion: do." 27 "It is something different to The forms that Jim Brighton and Shirley Sedore create are primarily ones that were learned from "oldtimers" but they have developed some new forms. They make a "sheep" [lamb] figure like one that was used on a number of gravestones in and around Grand Ledge. They also make Indian head bookends from an old mold and a Christ figure from another old mold. The newer creations include a "whiskey bottle" that, with some modification, was made from a flue liner. Also, a flower pot was made by alterating two sections of drain pipe. While both workers share in the ideas and some of the work, each one has certain forms that are his and his alone. has what he terms his "territory." 28 Each Shirley will sign the bottom of the sheep figures and Jim Brighton will sign the Indian head bookends and Christ figures. Jim Brighton's identity is closely allied to his work at Grand Ledge Clay Products Company. His father, Virgo, used to work with him running the "feeders" into the steam 179 press that Jim first ran at the pottery when he went to work there. Now he performs a number of varied tasks and is proud to announce to others, here." 29 "I can do everything He learned to make "p-traps" by hand and other pipe fittings. This experience gave him the "touch" for working with molding clay. The persistence of the tradition of making folk pot­ tery creations can be readily represented by Jim Brighton's creations. Yet, the power of the tradition as dictating all facets of creativity should not be overestimated. As Jim Brighton describes the behavior of his fellow workers, '"30 "Everybody does stuff different around here . . ." Each ■ worker does alter the practice of the creative act some — with the context of the larger tradition. There is always desire for innovation even within the most rigorously defined tradition. But the number of individuals partici­ pating in the traditional practices does have a bearing on its final form. In the case of Jim Brighton, he has decided to try consciously to conform to the dictates of the "old-timers" and to try just a few new forms but to try and make the more traditional forms as close to the originals as possible. In the final analysis, the physical forms remain more constant than both the technical and the interactional processes associated with the making of the pieces. 180 Voices of Community Response to the Study In the course of sharing some of the results of this study with the community, a number of responses from com­ munity members were collected. After viewing a small exhibit at the Michigan National Bank in Grand Ledge, viewers were asked to complete a short response form. Other community members agreed to have their observations taped as part of the study. Many of the comments were too general to have any measurable significance and others too specific as they suggested names of other owners of folk pottery. One area did emerge that could be more clearly addressed and that was the notion of ''community" in the town of Grand Ledge. This issue was raised with this series of questions: It has been noted that "creativity rein­ forces community identity." How does this study and the attention to the pottery tradition in Grand Ledge make you feel about your community? Does it increase your sense of place? Does it provide you a new awareness of your community? The following are samples of some of the more meaningful responses: 1. [The study] created a real sense of pride and importance to and of the people who worked at the clay factories. Brought to the attention of many people the importance of the clay industry to Grand Ledge in the earlier years and the art form (mostogeople not aware of the art produced). 2. Everyone likes to think where they live is important and special; the history of pottery here, along with other dis­ tinctive characteristics of this town 181 make it stand out from other communi­ ties . . . not that it is any better . . . but unique as no other town is quite like it. 3. Another pride (the clay potteries) of Grand Ledge besides being a friendly small town. 4. The awareness of the pottery tradition definitely creates more awareness and feeling of interest in Grand Ledge. When people show interest in their com­ munity and its past, the community seems 34 warmer and more responsive to individuals. 5. This study has increased my interest in the early business activities in our com­ munity. It makes the past more current andggakes one proud of the area we live in. Enhancement of the conscious identity of Grand Ledge 1 . . . . . . . . . . . .. • . as a community was not an objective of the study but it may have been a byproduct of the study in the eyes of some members of the community. The use of local history pro­ jects to bolster the identity of local communities has long been practiced and will no'doubt continue. In the case of this study, what is most important is the under­ standing of the folk pottery tradition as a tool for learn­ ing more about historical processes, socio-cultural pro­ cesses, and interactional processes in the community of Grand L e d g e . Chapter V Footnotes ^E. P. Thompson, Making of the English Working Class (London: Victor Gollancz, Ltd., 1963), p. 97. 2 Herbert Gutman, Work. Culture and Society in Indus­ trializing America (New York: Vintage Books/Random House, 1966,- 1977), p. 33. 3See Clyde Griffen, "Workers Divided: The Effect of Craft and Ethnic Differences in Poughkeepsie, NY 18501880," in 19th Century Cities: Essays in the New Urban H istory. ed. Stephen Thernstrom and Richard Sennett (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1969), pp. 49-97; Virginia Yans McLaughlin, "Patterns of Work and Family Organization Buffalo's Italians," Journal of Interdisciplinary History II (1971), pp. 299-314; Philip Greven, The Protestant Temperament (New York: New American Library, 1977); and John Demos, A Little Commonwealth: Family Life in Plymouth Colony (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970). 4 Ellen J. Stekert, The Urban Experience and Folk Tradition, ed. Americo Paredes and Ellen Stekert (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1971), pp. 11-12. 5 Richard Dorson, "Introduction," in Folklore in the Modern World (The Hague and Paris: 1978), pp. 3-7. Mounton Publishers, 183 g Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, in Folklore in the Modern World ed. Richard M. Dorson (The Hague and Paris: Mounton Publishers, 1978), pp. 3-4. 7 Ibid., p. 4. 0 See Marsha MacDowell, Work Experience: ’'Visual Descriptions of the Insider Versus Outsider Views of Art and Work," paper presented at Conference on "Aesthetic Expres­ sion in the City," UCLA, February 1982. 9Alan Gowans, On Parallels in Universal History (Wat­ kins Glen, New York: American Life Foundation, 1974), p. H. ■^Interview with Harry P o o l e , February 7, 1980. 11Ibid. 12 12 Interview with George MacDowell, July, 1975. Interview with Harry Poole, February 7, 1980. 14Ibid. 15Interview with Homer Godfrey, October 10, 1980. Interview with F. Bruce D e c k e , October 10, 1980. ^ I n t e r v i e w with Homer Godfrey, October 10, 1980. 18Ibid. 19Ibid. 2 0 Ibid. 21 See business records of Grand Ledge Clay Products Company. 22 Interview with F. Bruce Decke. 2 3 Ibid. 2 4 Ibid. 184 25 Michael Owen Jones, "Matching Questions about Con­ ceptions," paper presented at American Folklore Society Meeting, 1982. ^ I n t e r v i e w with Jim Brighton, May 15, 1981. 2 7 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 2 9 Ibid. 30 Ibid. 31 This questionnaire was administered during the per­ iod of the exhibition in Grand Ledge and at The Museum, Michigan State University. 32 Anonymous questionnaire response. OQ Larry Risbridger, Grand Ledge, Michigan (question­ naire response). 34 35 Anonymous questionnaire response. Anonymous questionnaire response. CHAPTER VI CONCLUSION . . . The moment just past is extin­ guished forever, save for the things made during it. This study has been undertaken to examine the poten­ tial of material folk culture as historical evidence. Often overlooked, material folk culture — culture in general — and material have not been utilized as fully as what Ruskin referred to as the ’’book of deeds" and the o "book of words." In concert with these bodies of data, material culture can combine to provide an ever more enlightened view of the past and the present. In order to summarize the conclusions of the study as an example of the potential of material folk culture to expand humanistic understanding, the conclusion has been divided into three sections. The initial section will offer some primary con­ clusions that can be considered more broadly to be "Implications of the Study for Understanding the Grand Ledge Experience." The second section will present a series of conclusions regarding the nature of material cul­ ture that were developed as a result of this study. 185 These 186 conclusions can serve as a model for future studies of material culture and this section has been entitled, "Some Basic Premises of Material Culture Study." The final sec­ tion of the conclusion will offer some related discoveries that occurred during the course of this study. This sec­ tion entitled, "Final Thoughts on the Study," provides some insights to the obstacles that developed as well as the areas that remain to be considered even after the complet­ ion of this study. Implications of the Study for Understanding The Grand Ledge Experience The findings of this study can best be presented by listing the concluding implications. While these conclu­ sions apply to the Grand Ledge pottery tradition, they have broader signigicance in explaining folk art and folklife in America. 1. The impact of industrialization on folklife and mater­ ial folk culture has been not only exaggerated but mis­ understood. Many scholars have contended that the industrial revolution brought about the decline of folk art, folklife and folklore in America. This study demonstrates that folklife and material folk culture can exist and indeed prosper within an industrializing environment. New folk forms can and do develop. If folklore is understood to be more than transplanted old world traditions, then it can be readily demon­ strated that material folk culture is dynamic and not 187 a static phenomenon. The creation of folk pottery in the settings of the industrial potteries of Grand Ledge by molders, branchers, kiln workers, and labor­ ers provide visual evidence of the development and per­ sistence of a folk art tradition. 2. Occupational groups can function as folk groups to cultivate, formulate, and transmit folklore and mater­ ial folk culture. Much attention is given to the organizing principles of conventional folk groups such as ethnicity, religion, region, and isolation; however, occupations provide a powerful bonding force for many individuals. The folk group is still considered a critical concept for understanding human behavior and cultural products. As ethnicity, religion, and region continue to decline in importance to many individuals, new affiliations such as worker groups have taken on greater organizational significance. These worker groups, such as the workers at Grand Ledge Clay Pro­ ducts, develop their own identity as pottery workers in the larger community where they reside. Their involvement in the group contributes to their sense of self-worth, connectedness to a place, and sociali­ zation in general. The products of the folk group, whether they be oral traditions or material tradi­ tions, are manifestations of their communication and participation in a folk experience. In the inter­ views with workers at the potteries in Grand Ledge, 188 workers clearly identified themselves as "pottery makers." The clay lions and other creations were physical reminders of their participation in a local occupational folk group. Other recent studies of auto workers in Detroit and Lansing support the conclusion that occupational folk groups provide a vital frame­ work for shaping human expression. 3. Material folk culture such as the folk pottery of Grand Ledge provides an indicator of workers' culture. The objects created in Grand Ledge reveal the desire on the part of individuals at all levels of culture (elite, fine, popular, and folk) to express themselves. Doorstops, bookends, umbrella stands, ashtrays, and lawn ornaments made at these industrial potteries, by workers on their own time, provide evidence of the existence of a material folk culture that can be perhaps understood 3 to be a "worker's culture." These functional objects, with a clear link to the work they perform, are placed in visible locations in the homes of the workers and are given to friends. The distribution of such pieces in the community can reveal community communication patterns as well as a measure of the importance of a particular occupational group in the community. In the Grand Ledge experience, the pieces of folk pot­ tery were found in and around the homes of most every known pottery worker and also in the homes of their neighbors. These pieces were proudly displayed 189 or at least were placed in highly visible locations. The use of these places (as revealed in the inter­ views with workers) seemed to reinforce the occupa­ tional identity of the workers. 4. Community response can alter over time the meaning of material folk culture such as the folk pottery of Grand Le dge. While folklorists stress the role of the last­ ing character of a tradition over time, the Grand Ledge experience demonstrates the potential for folk objects to take on new meanings. The clay pieces made by workers for their own ends have in recent years taken on a new meaning both within the community and beyond the community. The Grand Ledge lion now is prized as a symbol of the town and is collected by non-residents and it serves as an important community symbol. Its original meaning has been altered but it does retain its meaning for those who were its original audience. Therefore, the role of the audience for which the work was produced has changed somewhat over the years. This episode in Grand Ledge illustrates the critical element of the artist's audience. The form of the art may not change but the interpretation of it must reflect an assessment of the way the object is perceived.and used by its audience. Often the audience and, correspond­ ingly, the use change over time. 5. The study of American material folk culture might best be understood to be the study of material folk culture 190 In America. The American studies movement in its early years was focused on the American experience as a series of distinctive national events, documents, and identities that can be considered as a unique national history. Through the years, many folklorists such as Richard Dorson encouraged folklorists to study the traditions that have arisen out of the American his­ torical experience. The goal was to identify a body of folklore that could be termed Amerian folklore. 4 In contrast to this approach, a more profitable course of action can and should be considered and that can be termed the study of folklore in America. It is from this perspective that the Grand Ledge study should be evaluated. The folk pottery made by pottery workers should not be perceived to be a unique American his­ torical phenomenon that is directly related to a great American historical process. Rather, the Grand Ledge pottery experience is a result of a complicated human process that defies easy explanation. If one under­ stands the ’’human ability to possess a multiplicity of identities that are manifested directly in different 5 interactions,” then it is clear that folklore is not a simple behavioral phenomenon nor are objects of material folk culture singular expressions of a partic­ ular experience or identity. While this study does stress the important role of occupational folk groups, it would be presumptuous (and misguided) to correlate 191 the phenomenon to the grand sweep of a unique American historical process. The folk pottery of Grand Ledge illustrates the potential of material folk culture study to provide documentation of the expression of human capability, the interactional processes within the community, and the personal vision of individual artist/workers within the community. 6. Ob.iects of material folk culture such as the folk pot­ tery of Grand Ledge can be collected systematically and organized for analysis. This study illustrates the existence of the underside of the fine art traditions that can be studied to reveal new understandings related to the psychological processes, cognitive pro­ cesses, and interactional processes at work in America. Other material folk cultural traditions can be collected and examined when set in series to supple­ ment the existing data base for American studies scho­ lars. The methodology employed for this study relies on a combination of the tools of humanities and social science scholarship. Fieldwork, formal analysis, and examination of the historical record combine to enable one to then follow a chosen theoretical approach to analyze the data base. The mere existence of such a significant amount of material folk culture that has not been collected and studied suggests a new horizon for American studies and folklore. 192 The Basic Premises of Material Culture Study As a result of this material culture study, a number of basic premises have been developed for application in future work. These premises can provide the theoretical framework for material culture study that is critical for the establishment of physical man-made objects as a source for data on American life and culture. The following eight premises, posited based on the experience with this study and the literature from other material culture studies, can serve as an integrated theoretical foundation that reflects the diversity of research from different disci­ plines.' " ' Man as Ob.iect Maker The most basic premise to this study rests in the awareness and potential of man as maker or designer of his physical world. The key element of this premise to the role of man's intention with the total environment and his intention in shaping the physical character of the environment varies considerably. Some scholars have sug­ gested that the intentional making (or remaking) of the physical environment can be understood when focusing on g art, as the highest form of man's expressive intention. Others have proposed that man as maker might best be under­ stood in a broader context such as designer of his total physical work. As noted earlier, John Atlee Kouwenhoven is among those American Studies scholars who have 193 postulated such an approach. Kouwenhoven's belief in the need to examine all the designed world has been widely sup­ ported by other scholars such as the art historian George Kubler. In his ground-breaking book, The Shape of Time. Kubler argued that the concept of works of art can be 7 extended to include ’’the universe of all man-made things.” The first premise, m a n ’s capability to intentionally create objects, has rarely been questioned and the acceptance of "man as homo faber” is the first step in establishing the link between man and the man-made object. 8 The object can then be viewed as possessing what may be termed an intended message or sign. Man as Maker Within a Social System The message or sign of a particular object functions beyond the maker. Immediately after its creation, a newly- formed object also has the ability to communicate on some level to other members of the maker's community. This phenomenon, which has been recently described by beha­ vioral psychologists in somewhat abstract philosophical terms, has a direct application to the second premise: Man as maker within a social system. For instance, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Eugene Rochberg-Halton have described a person as a "pattern of psychic g activity.” They suggested this occurs when a person interacts with others, he/she transmits a pattern of psychic activity. The interchange of ideas can result 194 in a modified or combined pattern of human psychic acti­ vity whether expressed in words, music, or in this instance, objects. The ordering or design of this acti­ vity can be analyzed by scholars. Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton have termed this process cultivation. In sum, we shall say that the fullest development of personhood involves a free ordering of psychic energy at the level of the individual, the wider human community and social institutions, and the total environment. At each level, attention is invested in intentions that should lead toward consistency with each other. Thus the consciousness of the person in itself unified the pattern of forces within those dimensions of the universe that are acces­ sible to humans. The person who is able to cultivate his or her own desires, the goals of the community, and the laws of nature, and is able to reconcile these patterns, succeeds in establishing a temporary struc­ ture of order out of potential randomness. This is the creation of cosmos out of chaos and the ultimate touchstone of what is ordi­ narily called mental health or self-actuali­ zation. We have called this process cultivation. Cultivation refers to the process of invest­ ing psychic energy so that one becomes con­ scious of the goals operating within oneself, among and between other persons, and in the environment. It refers also to the process of channeling one's attention in order to realize such goals. This, then, is the ideal against which our model of the person can be assessed. Therefore man as object maker produces objects that communicate to others beyond the maker. The intention of the object can have a meaning and an impact on those in the immediate contact of the object — even without the 195 presence of the maker. Thus, objects communicate ideas/ messages within a social system. Objects are Cultural Products For scholars of material culture, the object can be most usefully considered as a cultural product. The increased popularity of the term "material culture" as a substitute for "objects" or "artifacts" underscores the premise that objects are cultural products. Cultural anthropologists such as Melville Herskovits have defined material culture as being "roughly synonymous with the totality of artifacts in a culture, with the vast universe of objects used by human kind to cope with the physical world to facilitate social intercourse, to delight our fancy, and to create symbols of meaning."11 Scholars of "material culture" have focused their attention on the need to breathe life back into the objects" that have been or can be allowed to ensure the potential life of the object as cultural data. This approach to objects as cultural products has encouraged some writers to consider human creation in both physical and behavioral realms. Tom Schlereth has summar­ ized this trend in scholarship as led by James Deetz, an historical archaeologist: James Deetz would have us consider a somewhat broader definition of material culture that, in addition to including arti­ facts from the simplest (e.g., a common pin) to the most complex (e.g., an interplanetary 196 space vehicle), would also press the his­ torian to investigate ’’cuts of meat as material culture, since there are many ways to dress an animal, plowed fields, even the horse that pulls the plow, since scientific breeding of livestock involves the conscious modification of an animal’s form according to culturally derived ideals. "Our body," argues Deetz, "itself is a part of all our physical environment, so that such things as parades, dancing, and all aspects of kinesics — human motion — fit within our definition. Nor is the definition limited only to matter in the solid state. Fountains are liquid examples, as are lily ponds, and material that is partly gas include hot air balloons and neon signs." Deetz has also suggested in Invitation to Archaeo­ l o g y . a prime example of it in its gaseous state. Words, after all, are air masses shaped by the speech apparatus,,according to culturally acquired rules. Consequently, a broad interpretation of material cul­ ture would allow for a richer interpretation of objects as closely linked with a particular cultural context. The way a clay lion is made, the language of the workplace, the later use of the lion all complement the actual formal analysis of the object as clay lion. Objects are Culturally Relative The acceptance of the premise that objects are cul­ tural products must be coupled with a critical understand ing that, as cultural products, objects are culturally relative. Social scientists and historians have long recognized the role of educational, religious, political, and economic distinctions that are applied in determining social class and social status. The conventional 197 historical record has relied on historical evidence provided by the record keepers, writers, politicians, religious and economic leaders who have for the most part occupied the higher levels of social standing. Even when the artifacts have been considered a part of all recorded history, attention has usually centered on the material culture of the upper levels of American social clases. W. Lloyd Warner is one historian who has recognized the poten­ tial of objects to function as signs of the owner's rela­ tionship to others and therefore symbols of status within a social hierarchy. That objects can serve as a divisive function for hierarchial differentiation was expounded upon by Warner when he wrote, "The presence and control of objects of art provide a permanent mirror of superiority into which the upper classes can look and always see what they believe to be their own excellence, thus reinforcing one of their principle claims to supeiority, their belief in their own good taste." 13 While this principle does operate to a degree in a class-oriented system, it denies the more pervasive principle that dominates daily human interaction between groups of people — cultural relativism — that principle is simply stated, this means — cultural levels of society have value. all Cultural anthro­ pology has been based on this principle of cultural rela­ tivism, which contends that no one level or part of a particular culture is more important than any other. is worth noting here that this has contributed to an It 198 appreciation of the folk arts, which had long been regarded by other disciplines as unworthy of critical study. The emergence of scholarship in the fields of popular culture and folk culture is a direct result of the growing recog­ nition of these levels of culture as part of the greater whole of man's cultural experience. Objects Can Function Objectively At any given time, place or circumstance,an object can function objectively as a message bearer between perceivers. This premise is central to the utilization of objects as evidence of a calculated form and content that can be understood by an audience beyond the maker. While clearly the maker's intent is rarely fully expressed and comprehended, the concrete nature and permanent character of the material object allows for a lasting physical reminder of a cultural idea expressed at a particular time, place, and circumstance. Consequently, scholars can then study objects as they study texts in order to understand a p eople. The potential for the study of objects as being able to function objectively has been noted by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton in The Meaning of T hings: We shall view a thing as any bit of information that has a recognizable iden­ tity in consciousness, a pattern that has enough coherence, or internal order, to evoke a consistent image or label. Such 199 a unit of information might be called a s i g n , to borrow a term from semiotic. In this perspective a symbol is only one kind of sign — a sign defined as the representa­ tive of some object (a quality, physical thing or idea) to some other interpreting sign. Viewed as signs, objects have a peculiar character of objectivity, that is, they tend to evoke similar responses from the same person over time and from dif­ ferent people. Relative to other signs such as emotions, or ideas, objects seem io possess j4unique concreteness and permanence • • • The concreteness and permanence that Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton refer to does exist in most all objects, but the lasting objectivity and the objectivity beyond the immediate audience or group setting is rarely as pure as these writers might have one believe. But the potential for objects to carry a sign or cultural message with a significant degree of objectivity is a basic premise of material culture study. This premise can perhaps be best expressed by turning to the work of Hannah Arendt who wrote of the lasting order that man makes in the creation of objects that comprise the man-made world: The things of the world have the function of stabilizing human life, and their objecti­ vity lies in the fact that . . . men, their ever-changing nature notwithstanding, can retrieve their sameness, that is their iden­ tity, be being related to the same chair and the same table. In other words, against the subjectivity of men stand the objectivity of the man-made world rather than the sublime indifference of an untouched nature . . . Without a world between men and nature, tfeere is eternal movement, but no objectivity. 200 The Cultural Life of Objects Can be Fluid An important principle that scholars of material cul­ ture have recently been exploring is the idea that objects have a life span beyond that of the immediate moment of their creation and service to man at a particular time and place. The life span of the object also extends well beyond the life span of the artist, a notion that has been explored by art historians and more recently by folklor­ ists. Conventional folkloristic fieldwork, for example, might include a record of the following: First, how an object is used today; second, how an object form has varied or has been retained; and third, what changes have occurred in the context of its place of origin, comparing it to past usage (often relying on historical reconstruction of the earlier context). All of this information is valuable and necessary for the student of folk culture. However, a new approach now being advocated by folklorists goes fur­ ther by exploring the full life cycle of the folk object. It is suggested that the study of the maker's motivation, the maker's rewards, and the intended uses of an object can reveal much about the man as object-maker/object-user. Simon Bronner as noted earlier has written of this approach: By studying material aspects of American folk culture in terms of human behavior as it relates to experiences, researchers can avoid the methodological pitfalls of con­ sidering artifacts and cultures an insular entites. Instead, they can begin to 201 evaluate the human element in the pro­ cesses associated with creating objects; they can evaluate the reifications of per­ sonal identities and the manipulations of creative expressions. We may thus effec­ tively gain insight into the diverse nature of human conduct agd communication, motiva­ tion and meaning. The ever-changing human response to the objects that man has created contribute to the fluid cultural values that man attaches or instills in his material culture. Thus, for example, the material folk culture student may choose to probe the early life of a folk object by explor­ ing the creative experience of the maker of a functionnally equivalent object today. One may find that though a traditional carver of hunting decoys may have turned to carving waterfowl for hand-made display on a mantlepiece, his treatment of and attitude toward all his carving can tell us much about both the character of human experience and the life cycle of the folk object. Clearly, there is still much to be learned from this decoy-maker as tradition bearer, even if the carvings he continues to make do not conform to the "pure" folk processes of a past time and context. The organic character of material culture as a carrier of a cultural message has been recognized by folklorists as a pivotal issue for study. Alan Jabbour, Director of The American Folklife Center of the Library of Congress in Washington, has written of this approach as applied to folk traditions. Jabbour terms this characterstic of symbolic 202 forms "recombinant development" and writes of this pheno­ menon : The selective tenacity, one might say, functions not by clinging to expressive forms frozen in time as a memory of some past cultural life, but rather by main­ taining a vigorous creative continuity which encompasses new ideas, new elements, and new genres. Foodways are freely and creatively adapted, not only to accommo­ date available foodstuffs, but to inte­ grate old and new customs and patterns of eating. Musical forms and genres, which tend to fare quite well in the mill of "selective tenacity," exhibit continuing creative recombination. Recombinant development — that is to say, creativity — must be regarded as fundamental to the concept of tradition everywhere; but on the American scene, with its extraordinary flux and interaction, recombinant develop­ ment is so conspicuous and continuous that,™ it must be regarded as a special hallmark. Objects, in general, take on new meaning at selected points in their cultural life span. The fluid essence of the object's functional life enables the object to undergo "recombinant development" and this "special hallmark" must be recognized as a basic premise in material culture study. Objects are Culturally Charged Objects, tral. like the protons of an atom, are never neu­ They are, in fact, charged to contribute to an individual man as well as mankind at large or they can be in opposition to mankind and may contribute to chaos. This premise is deeply rooted in the psychoanalytic theory of Freud as well as in the work of Carl Jung. 18 The funda­ mental idea being that objects can serve as symbols that 203 mediate conflicts within the self. Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton have summarized the approach of Freudians in this fashion: For Freud, things did not contribute one way or another to the wholeness of a person; only to the concept of certain objects, when seized by the mind, would act as mediator beween the warring factions of the psyche. Therefore in the Freudian scheme, things per se do not serve any transcending pur­ pose; they do not help a person to change or grow. What they do is to lend their semblance to the preconscious, which pro­ jects meanings into them to neutralize,nart of the repressed energy of the psyche. The original approach postulated by Freud was not altered to any great extent until Carl Jung proposed a more pur­ poseful role of m a n ’s relationship with the objects he makes or shapes. This critical modification of Freud's position has been expressed succinctly again by Csikszentmihalyi and Rochberg-Halton: Carl Jung, the other great depth psycholo­ gist of the century assigned a somewhat active role to the symbols that appear in art, religion, dreams, or fantasies. Jung distinguished between a sign which is a relatively known thing and a symbol, whose meaning is relatively unknown . . . "The symbols is not a sign that veils something everybody knows. Such is not its signifi­ cance: on the contrary, it represents an attempt to elucidate, by means of analogy, something that still belongs entirely to the domain of the unknown or something that is yet to be. Imagination reveals to us, in the form of a more or less striking ana­ logy, what is the process of becoming. If we reduce this by analysis to something else universally known, we destroy the authentic value of the symbol: but to attribute hermeneutic significance to it conforms to its value and its meaning." . . . Like 204 Freud, Jung was not interested in the actual experiences that people may have had in their lives with concrete objects. He also focused only on the visual or functional properties of objects, on the Platonic idea of things, rather than on their impact in the transaction people 2Q have with them in an existential context. The relationship between man and man-made objects therefore is not a simple one-way transaction that results in a symbolic statement. object Rather, it is the bond between and object maker that is a true transaction inwhich each partner shapes and confers meaning. This process can be described in this way: Objects affect what a person can do, either by expanding or restricting the scope of that person's actions and thoughts. And because what a person does is largely what he or she is, objects have a determining effect on the development of the self, which is why understanding the type of relationship that exists^between people and things is so crucial. Man's thumb print on the hand-made object is but one half of the equation — the psychic imprint of the objects that surround man make up the other half of the equation. Con­ sequently, the relationship between the maker/user and the object rarely allows for a neutral status of an object, rather, objects are charged to serve with purpose and direction or to inspire disorder. Ob.iect Study Requires Precise Methodology An underlying premise of this study and many other recent material culture studies is that objects can be best understood through the application of precise methodology. 205 While a single model for the study of material culture has not emerged in the field of American Studies, the inter- disciplnary nature of American Studies as a discipline allows for and encourages the integration of a variety of methodological approaches and theoretical constructs. The analytical precision required in each of these approaches has contributed to the way in which object study has developed. As Thomas J. Schlereth has noted, "Material culture study attempts to explain why things were made, why they took the forms they did, and what social, functional, aesthetic, or symbolic needs they serve." 22 The true test of the strength of the American Studies movement lies in its ability to address and analyze in an interdisciplinary way the whole, not just pieces, of "the American experience." Material culture study has been under-utilized in understanding the American experience. Its potential in expanding the interdisciplinary approach has not been fully explored. James V. Kavanaugh, in "The Artifact in American Culture," has written of this poten­ tial : Among those concerned with the future of American Studies and its potential contri­ bution to an understanding of American cul­ ture, there is a consensus that American culture is the true subject of the field. It is also agreed that the methods for interpreting American culture should be interdisciplinary in nature. This consen­ sus has promoted the establishment of dis­ ciplinary integrity and departmental auto­ nomy for American Studies in academia, but unless subject matter and methodology are 206 better defined, and American studies provided with a coherent center, students in the field might as well carry on their field work within the American divisions of such traditional disciplines as history, liters ure, political science, and sociology. This dissertation has been designed to focus on American culture as the specific evidence of material folk culture. In addition, the methodological approach, drawing on the founding ideas behind the American Studies movement, stresses systematic observation, simultaneous careful description, and thorough follow-up over time. This method­ ology, in concert with the premises presented here, allows for a much richer interpretation of material folk culture as demonstrated in the case study of the tradition of folk pottery making in Grand Ledge, Michigan. Final Thoughts of the Study The sheer complexity of carrying out this study as it was designed presented many separate and distinct hurdles. Identification and follow-up with former pottery workers, current pottery workers, and community informants required persistence and careful scheduling. In some cases, explaining the objectives of the study to informants proved to be much more difficult than first imagined. In vir­ tually every instance, this was the first time the infor­ mants had ever been interviewed. And yet, this is fairly standard for folklorists as the source person has rarely performed or shared their tradition with others beyond 207 their local community or even beyond their families. Con­ sequently, the undertaking of such an interview program was a complex challenge. Collection of the actual pieces of pottery was also at times awkward. Most families or individuals who owned pieces would not allow them out of their homes unaccom­ panied. The collection center at the library and inter­ views in the home were the best solutions to this dilemma. In all but two instances, owners did allow photographs to be taken of the folk pottery pieces they owned and they provided relevant oral history of the pieces. In evaluating the methodology utilized in this study, it has become clear that the approach was essentially quite sound and some aspects may distinguish the approach as a worthy model to be employed by others. As part of the original design of the study, there would be consider­ able interaction between the investigator and the members of the community. The investigator truly came to know the community through the informants who participated in this study. However, the community has also shared in some of the results of this study. The exhibition of pieces of folk pottery held in Grand Ledge — Museum, Michigan State University — as well as at The was widely attended. This exhibit in concert with the interviews and public lectures coordinated by the chief investigator enabled the community to assist in the evaluation of the pottery pieces. This approach is unusual in that the scholar of 208 material culture usually presents the results of such investigations outside the area where the data is gathered. Community members were given the opportunity to provide valuable insights into the pottery tradition of Grand Ledge as a result of this approach. The dividends of this extra effort were readily apparent in this study and this approach will be attempted in similar community folklife studies that this investigator conducts. As with any study, new research hypotheses appear at the end of the study that deserve further investigation. Among the hypotheses that should be considered that were not addressed in this study are the following: 1. Were any of the particular folk pottery forms trans­ planted in Grand Ledge by the few workers who moved from Ohio to work in Grand Ledge? At this time, there is no clear evidence to support this hypothesis. How­ ever, there were examples of folk pottery made in other industrial potteries by workers. 2. Were there any significant management- circumstances that encouraged the production of the folk pottery? The issue of organizational behavior has been the sub­ ject of many new theories being developed by organi­ zational theorists. Workers interviewed suggested that the creation of folk pottery was not encouraged, nor was it widely discouraged. Management did seem­ ingly accept the phenomenon as long as it did not interfere with the daily routine. Throughout Grand Ledge, there exist many buildings built with conduit tiles (seconds) that were laid in courses like bricks. What relationship do these build­ ings have to the sense of identity with the pottery tradition that has been explored in this study? This question is being pursued by the investigator and an article on this subject is being prepared. 24 What relationship exists between the declining number of workers now employed by Grand Ledge Clay Products Company and the number of pieces of folk pottery now being produced? Clearly, the results indicate fewer pieces are now being made but some of the workers con­ tinue to participate in the tradition. What will the long-range impact of this study have on the community's perception of the folk pottery of Grand Ledge? As mentioned previously, these pieces of pot­ tery have become popular with antiquarians as well as local residents. It is not uncommon for a clay lion to bring $200 at a local farm auction. While this appreciation for the pieces will guarantee that many of these clay creations will now stay in the community, they will nevertheless be viewed in a decidedly differ­ ent light than they were before this study was under­ taken. This is an ethical issue that seems to be particularly common with folklife studies that call attention to folk musicians and folk artists. 210 The success of this study has depended on the coopera­ tion of the people of Grand Ledge. The willingness of the informants to open up their homes to this investigator has made this study possible. Countless phone calls and recom­ mendations from community members enabled this investijgator to recreate the long lost network of employees and pottery families. Organizations such as the Grand Ledge Area Historical Society, the Grand Ledge Independent. Michigan National Bank in Grand Ledge, and the Folk Arts Division of The Museum, Michigan State University assisted consider­ ably in helping orchestrate this study. analysis, In the final these people, in concert with this investigator, unearthed a body of folk pottery that was long overlooked but certainly not forgotten. As a consequence of this study, the folk pottery of Grand Ledge has become part of the way others now view the past and the present. This awareness is perhaps best expressed in the words of George Kubler who has written: "The moment just past is extin- guished forever, save for the things made during it." 25 Chapter VI Footnotes ^George Kubler, The Shape of Time: Remarks on the History of Things (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962, p. 91. 2 Quoted by Kenneth Clark, Civilization: A Personal View