Craft In America - Season II: A Reporter's Perspective

This post is the third in a three part series, that reviews Craft in America - Season II from three different perspectives.

By Mike Morris

First, thanks to Gabriel for the invitation to offer a reporter’s perspective on the second season of Craft in America. Mr. Craig’s review already explained the preview screening we attended, so I’ll launch straight into my own thoughts.

I had expected an episode entitled “Process” to focus on the intricate details of production or to delve into a heady discussion of theory, examining the philosophy behind each piece as it develops. In my view, the producers chose both, emphasized neither, and thus keep the viewers at arm’s length from the subject. Granted, there are reasons for this, and I’ll touch on them later. Also, I suspect the “intricate production” I seek will be shown in the violin-making section of the episode, which was omitted at the screening, so and I’ll withhold comment on that here (save for a quick example). But the latter idea deserves examining.

In the episode’s introductory sequence, a violin maker is quoted as saying she was, “tired of making things people didn’t appreciate.” Instruments are her solution. Fair enough. As an admirer of woodworking, I appreciate that sentiment. But the implication of her quote is troubling. I love the artistry of my Martin acoustic guitar and think it’s a fine instrument, but a non-musician might not be able to distinguish it from guitars of half or twice the value. It would simply be “a guitar.” Presenting craft as a way to make functional things people will have to appreciate — “a violin” — leads it dangerously far from fine art. Reducing craft to utility and technique, however exquisite, robs it of the ability to convey ideas.

The episode also introduces us to Dave and Roberta Williamson, Berea, Ohio-based jewelers who speak of the “joy of discovery” and work often with objects found in nature. The way it’s presented, this too seemed to remove any message from their works and leave them purely aesthetic, static, dependent on nature for their beauty. As Gabriel mentioned in his review, Mrs. Williamson is shown crying when remembering her family’s move from the city to the suburbs, where she could interact with the natural world. This passion is a current through the Craft in America series, and was again reinforced by executive producer Carol Sauvion as she introduced the screening, explaining that the students who would appear in the episode were “just as passionate as professionals.” Passion struck me as a curious theme. It has nothing to do with skill, and yet the episode is meant to focus on skill, process. The producers seem to be operating on the assumption that, when confronted with the many masks craft can wear — fine artistry, technique, cultural heritage — and in doubt of which to emphasize, choose nostalgia, pull at the heartstrings. This doesn’t seem particularly helpful to modern craft, given our society’s habit to link passion with simple-mindedness.

The only real taste of conceptual-thinking-as-process comes in a ceramics studio at the Kansas City Art Institute. A professor there, when introduced, is quoted as saying the students must have intellectual skills, not just technical skills. To an extent this is backed up — we see students making more innovative pieces than elsewhere in the series, and we hear some dialogue between teacher and student to suggest that the mental wheels are turning as the hands move. Still, we’re held at arm’s length. None of the students is put on camera for long, and their ideas aren’t discussed in much depth. The greatest emphasis in the studio section comes when the professor asks one student if he’ll be all right if people get upset at his war-informed work. He says yes. You can almost hear the folks at home squirming in their cardigans.

And that’s the point. Reporters are trained to seek balance, so here’s your dosage. The producers seemed to visibly approach the art institute sequence always wary of the point where their viewers, plopping onto the couch after dinner and tuning into PBS, will turn to each other and say, “Gosh, Howard, is that girl making a corpse out of clay?”

A crude viewership comparison to the Super Bowl, that great benchmark of television demographics, proves the point. While 27 percent of Super Bowl viewers are 55 or older, 37 percent of PBS viewers fit that age group. Age isn’t the only reason to water down a product for a general audience, but it’s a start. The series has clearly taken an explanatory tone. It must, to be relevant. And to be relevant, it must be viewed.

Regardless of the subject, a documentary series in this form is essentially a work of journalism, and such coverage has to shoot for the middle and operate within certain conventions. If the subjects interviewed for the series lack diversity of views and age, it’s because journalism naturally seeks authority in figureheads and tends to view the middle-aged as more authoritative than the young. I said the backbone of nostalgia running through the series did little for modern craft. I stand by that statement. But the vast majority of viewers need to feel some emotional connection to the material or they’ll simply change the channel. Too many clay corpses, for the average viewer, will do that. They need to care about the people planted in front of the camera to talk to them (thus the need for “authorities”), or they’ll say “Why should I care, I don’t quilt,” or “That brooch is ugly,” and pick up the remote. The nature of a documentary also means that each episode is a snapshot in time, inherently backward-looking. As evidenced by the failure of the financial press to even hint at our current economic troubles, journalism generally stinks at looking ahead. Sauvion said a third “season” could include an episode called “Messages” about political and other ideas communicated through craft. I’d welcome that. Then the authority figures could be younger and more forward-looking.

To be clear, I couldn’t be more complimentary of the quality of the series. It’s shot extremely well, moving camera is incorporated in inventive ways, landscapes aren’t overdone, the film is sometimes sped up without seeming hokey, music is a consistent help, and the interviews are revealing, personal and informative. To be equally clear, if the series crams a thread of nostalgia into its “Messages” episode or fails to show craft as it is (complex, difficult to define, evolving), not as they want it to be (simple, nostalgic, soaked in heritage) they won’t just be hammering explanatory, accessible themes. They’ll be pandering.

Mike Morris is a freelance writer based in Houston, TX.

Comments Welcome

Craft In America - Season II: A Curator's Perspective

This post is the second in a three part series, that reviews Craft in America - Season II from three different perspectives.

This post was removed at the author's request.

Craft in America - Season II: A Maker's Perspective

Last Wednesday I was fortunate enough to attend a preview screening of Craft in America Season II hosted by Channel 8 PBS Houston, The Houston Center for Contemporary Craft, and Carol Sauvion - the creator and co-executive producer of the series. Also in the audience were Anna Walker, curatorial fellow at the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft, and Mike Morris, a freelance journalist. This post will be the first in a series of three, which will review the new series from three different perspectives; that of a maker, a curator, and a layperson (through an established and skilled writer). These unsanctioned reviews should all be available to peruse on conceptualmetalsmithing.com before you sit down to watch the premier this Wednesday, October 7 at 8pm EST, on PBS. Check your local listings and don't be afraid to share your thoughts as well.

A Maker's Perspective

Amidst a hail of beautiful a cappela harmonics that ring in the title screen of each episode of Craft in America, are the lyrics, "'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free, 'tis a gift to come down to where you ought to be." This small and perhaps often overlooked detail is the best characterization of the series as it continues into its second season. The opening sequence is arresting in its production value, but the message, which is overshadowed by the filmography, is troublesome, tired, and incomplete. The series is definitely worth while, but the depiction of craft artists today as simple and romantic - struggling to share their creativity - is a characterization that hurts contemporary craft as much as it helps it.

The forth and fifth episodes to date constitute the second season. While I am not sure how two hours of programming constitute a season, that is hardly something to take issue with, all things considered. Entitled Origins and Process, Carol Sauvion revealed at the Wednesday preview that there was a change of tack in the new episodes due to the overwhelming number of inquiries the first season produced into how one can actually become a maker. Process, while not a full blown "how to" delved deeper into technical explanation than any segment of the previous season. A profile of woodcut printmaker Tom Killion was the best example. Killion walked us through one of his Hokusai-esque prints (see below). Throughout the episode there was a subtext of outreach to fledgeling makers, with many of the segments offering explicit advice about how to be successful as a craft artist. Notably, Killion relayed that one can not rely on galleries for sustenance, advising that the development of a mailing list and a collector base was the key to his success.

Tom Killion, West Point, Mt. Tamalpais, 2008

One of the highlights of the new season for me personally was the focus that jewelry received. While the depth and breadth of contemporary jewelry was hardly conveyed in the first season it was exciting to see David and Roberta Williamson and the jewelry program at the 92nd Street Y (in New York) lead off the preview. The segments of the new season focus more on people than work, with fewer shots of finished craft objects. The Williamson's had a nice sequence talking to their students, and another sharing their formula for making a living off their work, a combination of commissions, high-end fairs, and galleries with long standing personal relationships. Its strange that even though they were shown in the classroom in the very same segment, there was no mention of being educators contributing to their financial stability. Does practicality not interface with the pure and simple message of craft? Sadly, we were not spared a heaping dose of sentimentality either as Roberta Williamson (almost in tears) gushed about her move as a child from the city to the suburbs, and the discovery of nature. Talk about reinforcing stereo types. Genuine or not, the refrain came streaming in my head as I watched. "'Tis a gift to simple, 'tis a gift to be free..." I can hardly blame the Williamson's, they are palpably open and honest. The way the series is cut, it just makes them look like saps.

A segment at the 92nd Street Y followed. Klaus Burgel talked about how much students enjoyed advanced technical instruction as he demonstrated a Tiffany's style prong setting. Also profiled was Tiffany's Silversmith and 92nd Street Y instructor, Han Beak. I felt a little bit like there was some covert advertising happening. None of Burgel or Beak's work was shown. The 92nd Street Y's ceramics program was also shown. This segment represented a non-collegiate center for craft education.

Another stop took us to the Kansas City Art Institute's Ceramics Program. With the Ceramics program turning 125 in 2010 a nostalgic montage set the scene. Interview's with students were numerous, as well as some alums. The title of the episode was Process, but the amount of coverage given to teaching institutions and educators really outshone the explanation and examination of process. It also seemed that technical education was emphasized over communicative or conceptual artistic development. One student at the Kansas City Art Institute was making work which explored death rituals, another soldiers in the war. The treatment of these themes was eclipsed by the technical discussion of how to physically make them. I guess that is process, but it seemed to reinforce the simpleness of craft and craftspeople. Refrain.

I feel like I have spent a good amount time bashing the show, but I should reveal that I do like it. I can't help but respect the unabashed vision of craft as a simple and pure pursuit. I understand why the series is narrow in focus, and how this may help to engage an uninitiated audience. I get that. The unfortunate thing is that when Craft in America is Craft's only public ad campaign it must withstand unjust scrutiny. When there is only one depiction, it stands as an archetype. While I do not agree with everything I see in the series, or how it is presented, I am very glad it exists. Again, the production value is so incredibly high, it helps to paint craft as a serious and worthy pursuit. That is both a good thing and a bad thing. As I have said before, the seriousness with which many craft advocates of the 20th century approached their charge (some say the result of an inferiority complex brought on by modernism) has resulted in an inability to see craft as potentially inclusive or humorous. Craft in America is undoubtedly stratified in that way. It's a plea for legitimacy on some level. It panders to collectors, reassuring those who own a Tom Killion, Kit Carson, or David Gurney (all represented by Sauvion's Freehand Gallery and featured in the series) that it was a solid investment. I am hardly surprised, after all this is how the world works, but my idealistic laurels prevent me from letting this go unmentioned.

The clear relationship between motivation for investors/ producers and content of the show promises that we will never see an episode about DIY, craftivism, extreme craft, or blue collar craft. In my reality craft is much more unwieldy than what we see in Craft in America. The show could be more aptly titled A Certain Kind of Craft in America. Still, the future of the show has promise with episodes in the third season planned on the intersection of craft and technology, conceptual craft, and quilts and wearables (this last one seems like the odd one out). I wait with baited breath to see what gets featured in the conceptual craft episode.

In the end, for anyone interested in craft, the new season is a must see, and dare I say for those people that we should all be the champions of the show. It is the only filmic document that attempts the question of who and what we are. I would rather have Craft in America, warts and all, than another, perhaps more balanced documentary of lower production value. Be sure to tune in this Wednesday and decide for yourself.

Comments welcome,

-Gabriel