NECDOTAL EVIDENCE SUGGESTS ONE COMMONALITY AMONG COLLECTORS: A GENETIC DISPOSITION TO COLLECTING THAT FIRST MANIFESTS ITSELF DURING CHILDHOOD. I TEND TO AGREE WITH THAT ASSUMPTION, AT LEAST AS IT APPLIES TO THOSE WHO FREQUENT FLEA MARKETS AND GARAGE SALES. BUT FOR THE SERIOUS COLLECTOR OF FINE CRAFTS, I'VE FOUND A DIFFERENT COMMON DENOMINATOR.
The trait that has surfaced in virtually every conversation I've ever had with fellow collectors is a deep appreciation for a coherence of form with source material -- be it wood, clay, fiber, metal or glass. A unity of spirit, if you will. A graceful wooden bowl can be turned with the utmost skill, but if its shaping doesn't reveal the essence of the wood from which it's created, the collector remains unmoved. He or she experiences no aesthetic gratification.
The best craft artists are driven to expose such innate truth -- the "one choice," as Tom Rauschke and Kaaren Wiken, creators of wood-and-needlework habitats, term it. Rauschke describes the process of carving a piece of wood as subtractive, in which the spirit of the wood reveals itself almost through a process of elimination. In the end, there is no other form that the wood could possibly have taken. "The possibilities become much more limited, until there is only one choice left," he explained. Through this process, the artist exposes the true form of the material. The collector can recognize that truth.
I learned from turner Michelle Holzafel, for example, that I have little chance of ever possessing a piece similar to her "Self-Portrait," a glorious cherry burl hand-with-bowl. When I asked her about the possibility, she could promise only that if another hand emerges naturally from the wood she turns and carves, she'll let me know.
Each of the craft collectors or collector couples I interviewed touched on the unity they seek out in the pieces they collect. Sometimes they cannot describe it in words; they can only feel it.
THE ARTS ADVOCATE AS COLLECTOR
The most dedicated collectors with whom I spoke are Jane and Arthur Mason. Their collection of some 500 turned-wood pieces is considered to be one of the country's finest and includes the works of David Ellsworth, Mark Lindquist and other premier craft artists.
The Masons dislike publishing such an abbreviated list of turners because they refuse to show favoritism either among the turners or their creations. "The pieces are like children to us. We can't have favorites," declares Jane Mason. "They're all dear to our hearts." In spite of this love, the Masons have been generous in their contributions to the crafts community. They have given 20 pieces to the Renwick Gallery in Washington, D.C., and another three to the Art Institute of Chicago. And when the newly-endowed Mint Museum of Craft and Design opens in Charlotte, N.C., in the spring of 1999 (see "Crafts News,"), it will house -- as gifts from the Masons -- 120 of their turned-wood objects, as well as masterworks in other media. "We selected the Mint because we'll be able to keep our collection intact," Mason explains. "The building [encompasses] 80,000 square feet, making it, I believe, the world's largest all-craft museum."
Jane and Arthur Mason have gotten to know many of the artists whose work they collect. Here they are shown with woodturner Mike Peterson (far left). Jane is holding a bowl the Masons bought from Peterson.
|
Arthur Mason adds, "We feel we owe it to the turners to keep such a representative collection together." Over the years, the Masons have become close friends with many of the artists and credit them with helping develop the couple's "collector's eye."
However, it was at the Renwick, 11 years ago, that the Masons first became enamored with woodturning. The crafts gallery, an arm of the Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of American Art, was hosting an exhibition of work by Edward Jacobson. The pieces' tactile appeal, visual beauty and artistic integrity seemed to conspire with the Masons' personal history to trigger an enduring passion. (Arthur Mason's father had been a Colorado forest ranger, instilling in him a profound love of wood, and Jane once trained at the Art Institute of Chicago and holds a degree in art.)
Today, their collection has become so well-known, and they have so many contacts within the crafts community, that their awareness of new work can be termed "realtime." Artists send them slides, fellow collectors alert them to new talent, and they continue to be avid readers, gallery visitors and show attendees.
The Masons' pursuit of additions to their collection is an educated and discerning one. They feel an obligation to keep it comprehensive, acquiring only the best and incorporating new talent as it emerges and proves itself. They must agree on each purchase, although each may look for different attributes. "Most important," they agree, "is our emotional response to the piece and our feeling that the wood and the design work together."
THE VISUAL ARTIST AS COLLECTOR
Sherry Wolf is a painter of the super-realistic school and a designer of fashion accessories, including whimsical jewelry, scarves and ties. Her early illustrations have been seen in leading trade publications and on nightly television news programs. One of her paintings hangs in the permanent collection of the Albright-Knox Museum in Buffalo, N.Y.
Ruth and Rick Snyderman's bedroom is filled with handmade crafts: cabinet by Stephen Whitlessey, bed by Wendy Maruyama, teapot by Kazuka Matthews, two pots by Rob Sieminski, glass sculpture by John Kuhn, and vase by Donald Carlson.
|
The home she shares with her surgeon-husband and her two children in the Baltimore, Md., suburbs is furnished with striking examples of art furniture by leading American craft artists, including Wendell Castle, Albert Paley and Jay Stenger. She has always collected contemporary art, paintings by Sam Francis and Tom Wesselman, for example. And she has a special fondness for sculpture. So when she and her husband set out to furnish their new home, she knew what she wanted and laid out a detailed plan of action for getting it.
"I wanted furniture as commanding as sculpture, displayed so that people could admire it as art as well as use it for day-to-day living," Wolf explains. "I read, I visited galleries, and I talked to craft experts. Fortunately for me, the first gallery owner I visited became my mentor and inspired me to acquire the best." (She is referring to Rick Snyderman of the Snyderman Gallery. See "The Gallery Owner as Collector")
And as the strong-willed woman that she is, once Wolf found a table, chair or cabinet she loved, she let nothing prevent her from having it in her home. A case in point is the 1,200-pound Paley table that graces the foyer. Made of carved wood and cascading metal, topped with glass, its installation required the removal of a front window; after a floor-support was installed, a crane hoisted the table through the opening and set it in place. At my suggestion that a household move might prove to be difficult, Wolf gave what was, in effect, a verbal shrug.
When she couldn't find a table and chairs for the generous area designated for dining, she gave carte blanche to Stenger to create furniture appropriate to the setting. His "Elated Energies" features a lighted table top; each accompanying chair is unique. "I know our furniture is a sound investment," Wolf admits, "but that's not the primary reason we buy it. We find it exciting to live with art as we do and to be able to use it every day."
Collectors/gallery owners Ruth and Rick Snyderman.
|
THE CRAFT ARTIST AS COLLECTOR
When I explained to David Williamson that I was writing about crafts collectors, he demurred, explaining that he and his wife, Roberta, don't fit into that category. Just back from showing their "mostly silver" jewelry at the 21st annual Philadelphia Museum of Art Craft Show, he explained that they collected only odds and ends, bits and pieces, that somehow relate to their own craft. But as we talked, it became apparent that the Williamsons are, indeed, collectors.
For 12 years, they have been acquiring pottery from fellow exhibitors at the shows they attend. Each year, they have added one of Mara Superior's pieces to a special collection, which they intend to give to their 17-year-old daughter when she strikes out on her own. Superior's porcelain speaks to them through the New England motifs she employs in decorating her traditional-yet-fanciful forms. "The combination seems to embody for us a quaintness and sentimentality that represents home," David Williamson muses. "We want our daughter to carry that image with her."
On the other hand, the Matthew Metz pieces they collect speak a different language to the Williamsons. Black-and-white, with elaborate, incised patterns, they seem to show a very special -- hard-to-explain, but easy-to-experience -- relationship between the object and its decorative elements. "Matthew's pottery is our gift to ourselves," says David.
Perhaps the strength of Metz's work echoes the artistic force inherent to the couple's collaborative jewelry, which combines sterling silver with found objects such as leaves, shells, or even antique buttons. In any case, David and Roberta are crafts collectors. You can tell by the way in which they can precisely describe the form and motif of each pottery piece, as well as their emotional response to it.
David and Roberta Williamson (shown here with their daughter) are craft artists who have been collecting the work of fellow craftspeople for the past 12 years.
|
THE GALLERY OWNER AS COLLECTOR
Ruth and Rick Snyderman own the Snyderman and Works galleries in Philadelphia, Pa. The former, Rick Snyderman's bailiwick, tends to appeal to the more affluent collector. Ruth Snyderman, however, has embarked at the Works Gallery on a mission to showcase new craft artists and more affordable work. She empathizes with the beginning collector who, despite today's typically constrained budget, yearns to own high-caliber crafts. When we spoke, she was organizing a show of Bobby Hansson pieces entitled, "The Tin Can."
The Snyderman home is a unique town house which, if memory serves me well since my last visit a few years ago, sports a corner entrance and a concrete sphere on its roof. The residence is referred to by many as the "ball" house. In its multi-level interior, the visitor finds an eclectic collection of international crafts. Every room, including the bathrooms, is a treasure trove.
The collection is wide-ranging, from studio glass by Dale Chihuly and Harvey Littleton to Inuit folk art. But when pressed to say which craft medium she favors, Ruth Snyderman admits a preference for clay, which "is still approachable and affordable." Soon after she and Rick married, they made a trip to Maine and bought their first piece of pottery.
"We especially like Dan Anderson's work. It's warm. It's functional," says Snyderman. The Snydermans also admire the work of Melissa Green, a Native American potter. "I have an affinity for her imagery," Snyderman notes.
Like the Masons, the Snydermans must agree on any purchase they make, although they've made few purchases recently, because of their busy work schedules. Should they move again, as they tend to do every eight years or so, Snyderman hints that they might restructure their collection as they re-establish their habitat.
Ruth and I discussed the cycles of change in our lives and the crafts objects that have escaped our grasps, for varied reasons. We compared evolving tastes and expanding knowledge. And after these interviews, I believe more strongly than ever that the inquiring mind of the collector coupled with his or her openness to change is an elixir that can keep a person young at heart.
Another piece from the Mason's collection is "Redwood Pitch Burl," by David Ellsworth. Photo by Goodman/Van Riper
|
THE CRAFTS COLLECTOR AS EXPLORER
There are many different types of craft collectors: the responsible, the determined, the accidental and the down-to-earth crafts collector. These categories, which reflect only my own perceptions, carry no value-judgments and are used simply to illustrate the diverse approaches to collecting.
I guess I'd have to call myself an esoteric collector, since the antiques, the art and the craft I collect in my Alexandria, Va., home are primarily representations of the human hand, my pet icon.
My assessment of crafts collectors is a variation of Arthur Mason's comment about turners, "I've never met one I didn't like." I've never met a collector of fine crafts with whom I couldn't connect. No matter how different our lifestyles, our educational backgrounds or our professions, we speak the same language and value the same qualities -- in crafts and craft artists. We may seem at times to cherish objects more than people, but, paradoxically, the objects themselves serve as bridges to some of the most interesting people in the world.
Explorers and seekers, eager students, we choose different routes in pursuit of our vision. We frequent libraries, galleries, shows, lectures, or gatherings of collectors. We communicate with artists and curators. We live in a perpetual state of joyful anticipation that someday a Holzafel hand will grace my Michigan log cabin; the
Snydermans' cat, Oreo, will curl up in a Sam Maloof rocker; and the Masons will see their collection displayed in the setting it richly deserves.
Joanne Rapp, owner of the Joanne Rapp Gallery/The Hand & The Spirit, once declared that what "craft artists really need is rock-solid, active collecting." And, likewise, I think that what they really need is rock-solid, active collectors like those I've met. Collectors follow the dictum of the Greek writer, Nikos Kazantzakis, to "reach what you cannot." And they push craft artists to do the same, to make the "single choice."
Betty Lou Cooke is an Alexandria, Va.-based freelance writer and crafts collector, earning her living writing about technology. Her marketing communications firm serves clients in the software services industry.
