We were honored to be a part of the Gallery of Conscience at the Museum of International Folk Art. It was a large investment of time spent with a cadre of New Mexican and international artists, over the space of several months. It has been difficult to communicate what we were doing during that time, but the Museum’s website explains. “The Gallery of Conscience is an experimental gallery in the Museum of International Folk Art where the public is invited to help shape the content and form of the exhibition in real time.
Visitors notice the Gallery of Conscience looks different than the rest of the museum. In this gallery, visitors are invited behind the scenes to participate directly in the creation of an exhibition. That is why the space looks informal and unpolished- it’s on purpose. The Gallery of Conscience team seeks to make visitors feel welcome to write comments, leave thoughts and participate in the exhibition’s creation.
Negotiate, Navigate, Innovate is about contemporary folk artists and their relationship with their patrons, buyers and collectors. We are especially interested in understanding the pressures they might feel to keep their traditions alive in the face of modern technological advances and new consumer demands. Visitors will see a kind of “mock up” or series of idea sketches. The artworks will come at a later point in the process- after we have heard from visitors, artists and local community members. Even the exhibition title itself is up for grabs- so be sure to vote on which title you like best, or suggest your own. Come back often and see how the exhibition has changed in response to your ideas.”
There were a number of opportunities for us to interact with the other artists involved. We also were encouraged to take on an apprentice and create a video documentation of the experience. That is what you see above. These experiences have given me a lot to think about over the last several months, and I’ve been anxious to record my thoughts.
About selling traditional arts in a big, well-connected world.
Obviously there are countless approaches. We were all involved in one of the big summer markets in Santa Fe: the International Folk Art Market, the Spanish Market, and Indian Market. So we all were aware that there were people who decided who was in, and who was out, of these venues. It’s not easy to be allowed to show in any of these, there are rules involved, and policies to navigate. We talked a lot about interacting with the buyers of the products we made, and how those interactions affected our work, and how it affected us on a personal level.
Most interesting to me was how our selling of our work influenced how we understood our traditions. A list of questions I’d like to explore further in the future, emerges.
- What do our traditions mean to our community?
Some traditional arts are essential threads of connection in communities. Others are more pragmatic expressions of comfort, communication, or personal expression.
- What is the economic role they play? Is it serving to empower community members by providing employment, a creative outlet for self expression, or a role in a community’s sacred interactions?
This is, of course, a question of survival for these art forms. We met women from countries where creating these goods for sale served as a vital connection to others beyond the walls of their homes. And their cooperatives created leaders who played essential political roles as voices of the women involved. For many artists, these forms connected them to their personal and community histories. Others created objects that were important to a spiritual community beyond themselves. Some traditions, like ours, have always been primarily in a commercial realm, created for trade beyond the local community.
- Does it inform and express culture to those within the culture, or to outsiders?
What I think I heard in our discussions is that this was a very personal question, and how we communicated with those who were interested in our work was at the heart of this. Who we sold to could be only people who were sincerely committed to the art form or the community, or it could be anybody willing to pay for the product.
- What about the traditions are sacrosanct and what is changeable? Are we comfortable with new techniques or different materials, and why?
Again, this is a very personal issue. But some folks dealt with rules imposed by others regarding what is defined as traditional and what is not. And others were faced with choices as to how to respond to pressure to make change. Sometimes change meant making a markedly improved product, like drum heads not damaged by changes in humidity. Other times market changes might mean using color to appeal in a new market in a way that might go against the community of origin’s intentional use of color. There were new approaches that helped speed up the process and make it less work intensive, and there was clearly some conflict over the appropriateness of that kind of change too.
- Do we make changes because of the pressures of outside economic forces?
These forces seem likely to continue to affect these traditional forms, but individuals may choose where they will bend and where they will not.
- How do we respond to “cultural appropriation”? And what is our appropriate role in guarding traditions? Who “owns” these traditions?
As a person who grew up outside of the culture whose weaving tradition I am devoted to preserving, this is a very personal question. I don’t have any answers to this one. But I confront it regularly.
In the end, each one of us has to draw boundaries for ourselves, and these questions can help guide our choices. These are issues that we are often deeply emerged in, and the answers for us have probably grown more nuanced as we have been at this for some time now. But it was the work we did with our apprentices, and the videos that were made to document that work, that brought me to one conclusion. Traditions will, and must, change over time. They are in flux because new people must take them up in every generation.
There is still an underlying question too, about who supports these traditions, and why, and how. We have always had moral, if not a lot of financial, support from institutions of various kinds, some governmental and some private. We are always grateful when these kinds of acknowledgements of the value of tradition are made. It would be impossible to measure what these things have meant to our ability to keep up our efforts.
Another thing I will always be grateful for about getting to engage with all these artists in this program is that it engenders a sense of common ground and unity of purpose. Each of our opportunities to share with one another were seriously uplifting. I don’t think I am alone in feeling that way. For me that is a powerful spiritual thing.
This was the group of artists and staff who stuck around after the videos were premiered at the end of our project.
This was a group of us deeply involved in learning how to make videos. I am grateful for the immersion in a whole new creative process, and hope to apply what I have learned to future projects.