The Triangle at 100: Reflecting on the Virtues and Shortcomings of Craft

Police and Spectators look on outside the Triangle Shirtwaist Company next to bodies of women who jumped from the 9th floor of the Asch building to escape flames and smoke. 

March 25th, 1911 

It was one hundred years ago this week that 146 garment workers lost their lives in the Triangle Shirtwaist Company Fire. One of the most horrific chapters in early 20th century American history, the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire exemplified the abusive labor practices of the day and became a catalyst for labor reform. For those interested in learning more about the fire you can listen to a fairly expository NPR story here or check out the wikipedia entry here. I imagine that the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire was similar in cultural impact to the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001. Both were incidents that rocked a nation to its core, unbelievable in the magnitude of their horror, catastrophe, and tragedy. Both events resulted in resolute efforts by individuals and governments alike to prevent similar incidents in the future.

As a craftsperson the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire seems especially tragic because I relate to the incident on a number of personal levels. I understand how difficult hand manufacturing is, I understand the toll it takes on one's body, on ones hands, and also the attentiveness and skill required. While I am a metalsmith, I have certainly taken on my share of sewing projects and it is not so hard for me to put myself into the Asch Building on that day in 1911. The victims were mostly between the age of 16 and 33 (my own age) and Italian and Jewish immigrants from whom I am just a few generations removed. 

It pains me deeply that so many innocent women lost their lives in this easily preventable disaster. The fire itself may not have been avoidable, but adherence to simple fire safety measures could have easily saved 146 lives.  The modern conception of craft itself was a reaction to the exploitative and abusive practices of industrial manufacturing, the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire is but one example. An extreme imbalance in the distribution of wealth in the early 20th century gave rise to a climate in which a general lack of empathy (and othering) by the wealthy merchant and business classes existed. This emotive removal allowed for stagering abuses to take place. Insulated from workers and their extreme lifestyle, greedy factory owners, who were willing to oppress their labor force were typical of the period. Their indifference and lack of compassion led to many tragedies beyond the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.  

Yet, craft has always been the alternative to abusive labor practices. Good working conditions are inherent in craft production. Being a craftsperson implies some degree of autonomy, enfranchisement, and empowerment. And here there is an important distinction to be made between handwork and craft. In many sweatshops and assembly factories around the world, from the maquiladoras of Mexico to the workshops of Bangladesh (notorious for their use of child labor), handwork is employed in the creation of goods. 

A maquiladora or assembly factory in Mexico, May 2007

Handwork alone does not prevent low wages, poor working conditions, and abhorrent labor practices, though in the West we think of working by hand as romantic and dignified. The truth is that craft production is indeed a sub-category of handwork in which both people and labor are respected and honored. The quandary we find ourselves in is one of economies of scale. Craft production, with its superior products and unparalleled respect for the worker, cannot meet global demand in either volume or affordability. It is craft's ability to be ethical that makes me revere it, but it is also craft's inability to realistically resolve contemporary labor exploitation that makes it such a romantic and impotent solution. This conundrum is why I continue to pursue craft, as a noble yet flawed social experiment.  

Interior of the 9th Floor of the Asch Building. March 1911.

This week I remember the 146 workers who died 100 years ago in Greenwich Village, who worked with their hands, who were struggling to make a better life for themselves and their families, who were cogs in the wheels of industry, and who paid with their lives for our indifference to their exploitation. 

In my own practice, as a metalsmith, this week I remember the legacy of the labor reform. I may not have health insurance, or even make a decent wage, but I do not have to work 12-18 hour days (though sometimes I choose to), I do not have to use mercury to gild objects, I do not have to breath in the harmful silica dust from gem cutting and polishing, I never execute the same repetitive task for days on end, and I do not expose myself to toxic chemicals and dangerous working environments. I have the freedom to use my hands and my labor in relative autonomy and safety. I have the freedom to create ethical work. I do not take for granted those who came before me, those who paved the way for me, that created a climate where, with dignity, I can create with my hands.

We should also remember this week that there are still many who toil in dangerous conditions, overworked and underpaid in gold mines, gem cutting houses, assembly plants, manufacturing workshops, and refineries. These workers – distributed throughout the world – produce the materials that many of us consume (and work with) each day, and whose conditions would have been recognizable to the many who lost their lives in the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire in 1911. The promise of craft – of dignified, ethical, safe, and fair labor – has yet to reach many millions still working in oppressive conditions.

The incredible tragedy of the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire reminds me of how lucky I am to be manufacturing in America and at moment in time.

Comments Welcome,
-Gabriel


Links:
NPR Triangle Story 
Gripping images of children workers in Bangladesh from GMB Akash