The Art of Craft

FORM FOLLOWS FUNCTION IN THE TRADITION/INNOVATION EXHIBIT

Functional crafts and utilitarian arts have long been appreciated for their purely aesthetic value, and Southern artisans in particular have received a great deal of attention for their work. Perhaps because southern states continued to be more agrarian and less industrial long after parts of the North became modernized, and economic hardships led to a reliance on self-made items for hearth and home, the tradition of folk art and craft has flourished in the South.

The Southern Arts Federation’s Tradition/Innovation: American Masterpieces of Southern Craft & Traditional Art, a traveling exhibition currently at the Knoxville Museum of Art through Jan. 18, offers an impressively broad representation of arts and crafts from nine southern states.

Among the objects on display are baskets, pottery, boats, handmade instruments, chairs, tables, garments, sculptures, books and of course, several quilts.

As the title of the show makes clear, the intention of the collection is to demonstrate how contemporary artists use traditional forms to create works that have appeal and relevance to modern viewers. There are more than 50 works on display, a select few highlight how function influences form, serving as a reminder that household objects have an intrinsic aesthetic form most of us don’t spend much time considering. The materials used are generally inexpensive, readily available and ubiquitous — wood, cloth, metal, glass, linen and pine needles.

It’s always a bit odd to see so many shiny new cups and bowls, items we all have contact with on a daily basis, behind glass. Ceramics artists Ron Meyers and Bonnie Seeman have interesting housewares on display, as does metalsmith Gary Noffke. A sampling of work from the Hewell family of Gillsville, Ga., is present as well. The Hewell family’s tradition of pottery dates back to the Civil War, when Nathaniel Hewell produced hand-thrown jugs and churns for farmers. Though they also make more decorative pieces, today the family business is one of the largest producers of gardenware for eastern and midwestern states, and the Hewells have included some of the more truly functional work in the exhibit.

The same could be said of Rockwood, Tenn., resident Charles “Jean” Horner, an instrument maker represented here by a gorgeous mandolin made of spruce, curly maple, mother of pearl and mussel shell. Though its ostensible reason for being is to make music, as a visually aesthetic object it’s undeniably a work of art in itself.

Nick Toth, of Tarpon Springs, Fla., has included “Sponge Diving Helmet,” a large, cumbersome, antiquated metal helmet modeled on the type his Greek immigrant grandfather built in the early 20th century. At first I thought the piece was an old, used helmet, but after noting the date of its creation, 1986, it became a purely aesthetic object, since this type of helmet is now obsolete. It throws into sharp relief one aspect of the exhibit, in which certain pieces spring from a functional background, but are no longer of practical use, the artists keeping the ways and means of creation alive.

Quilts are an especially highly regarded and sought-after folk art, and the ones included in the exhibit give an idea of the diversity of approaches quiltmakers may take. Mississippian Gwendolyn A. Magee is represented by three powerful quilts with the theme of racial violence in the South. “Blood of the Slaughtered” is a 70-inch by 85-inch quilt covered in text, excerpts from newspaper articles describing horrible acts of violence and murder against African Americans, accompanied by a list of lynchings by state from the late 1800s to the mid-20th century. A silhouette of a tree with a person hanging from a branch is in the background.  Next to it is “Blood of the Slaughtered 2,” a smaller piece which was needed to contain all of the names from Georgia alone. 

“God of Our Silent Tears” depicts a scene in which two African-American women await the execution of someone who is most likely a family member. The elder woman, perhaps the man’s mother, sits on a couch in a living room, wiping away tears with a handkerchief that juts out from the quilt. She holds a newspaper that tells of the midnight execution, another piece of cloth springing forth from the quilt. A child sits at the woman’s feet, crying. Another woman — most likely the man’s wife — looks out a window into the night as a clock in the corner shows five minutes to midnight.