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ethical consumerism

Jewellery in the bigger picture

Once more with Love gathering at North City 4

Once more with Love gathering at North City 4

As the Melbourne post-industrial suburb baked on a hot February afternoon, a gathering of 40 or so contemporary jewellers talked about the ethical nature of materials they use. The forum preceded the launch of Once More with Love, a touring show of jewellery resulting from a recycling challenge. The organisers Suse Scholem and Simon Cottrell introduced the issue in their own distinct ways. Suse spoke of the need to build a body of research that could help inform jewellers about the choices they make in materials. More generally, she advocated for a kind of ‘artivism’ that linked creative output to good causes. Simon gave a more personal talk reflecting on ethics as a subject of contemporary jewellery. He mentioned a work by Johannes Kuhnen that exhibited a gold wedding ring along with the 35 tons of ore produced to mine the metal.

Despite the energy sapping heat, the audience was quite vocal throughout the day. There were ‘real world’ considerations, such as Caz Guiney’s point that a couple commissioning a wedding ring will normally presume it is virgin gold, as it is seen to symbolise a new relationship. But sometimes frustrations erupted. At one point, a woman broke down in tears when describing the environmental devastation from mining, implying that talk was useless. Roseanne Bartley, who had previously warned that certain talk about ethics was ‘middle class’, defended jewellery as a form of knowledge that can make a difference.

The call to action was well captured by Ali Limb and Anna Davern who set up a whiteboard to gather suggestions for making a difference. One suggestion that seemed to get traction was the use of celebrities to champion ethical jewellery.

This discussion certainly brought people together in a common cause. The obvious challenge was to find a platform to carry this work further. Once More With Love as the prime mover will be critical, but this is a project rather than an organisation. There was talk of raising this issue at the next JMGA conference in Brisbane, but the scope of that organisation is much broader than ethics. One possibility to consider is the formalisation of a link with the USA based organisation Ethical Metalsmiths, whose project Radical Jewelry Makeover had been the catalyst for this issue in Australia. Does that mean setting up an Australian chapter? Would it operate under the main board in the USA? Do jewellers in the USA and Australia face the same ethical issues?

Sitting lightly alongside the pragmatic discussion was a more speculative conversation about the various interests at play in jewellery. Vicky Shukuroglou demonstrated the creativity of children in responding to artistic challenges. Catherine Truman focused in on the body as the site of the experience of making. While not strictly relevant to mining, their talks did serve to open up jewellery as a space of different interests.

While mining was the most salient issue in the Once More with Love forum, the ethical domain invites other concerns into jewellery. Like much of modern ethics, the day’s discussion implied an extension of the franchise of ethical interests—not just to sub-groups like queer, but also to non-human actors, such as nature itself.

So the day presented two complementary platforms for ethical jewellery. One was a pragmatic focus on specific activist goals, such as reduction in mining through increased use of recycled metals. The other was a more speculative reflection on the kinds of interests at play in jewellery production and consumption. Ethics does often demand some imagination, particularly when the interests cannot speak for themselves, as in nature. As with most forms of action, it seems important to have reflective space for mapping your direction, to ensure you are on the right track.

One important issue in this speculation is the recent thinking about the agency of the object itself. The sentimental value of jewellery is premised on a contact between wearer and object. While humans enjoy the capacity of enjoyment in the world, we are fundamentally limited for four score or so years. On the other hand, as they say, diamonds are forever—along with other metals and stones. Our bodies are thus imperfect hosts for the kind of enduring connection we seek with others. Through the act of empowering objects to carry our affections, we do qualify objects themselves to have an interest.

This issue emerged several times during the discussion, particularly regarding recycling. Caz Guiney, for instance, questioned whether she should recycle her unsold exhibition work. In everyday life, parallel dilemmas arise when we question whether we should give a keepsake away—is it better to preserve its original message or pass it on to someone who will use it more?

This may seem an indulgent exercise, evocative of the more arcane versions of thing theory found in the academy these days. But these speculations can be useful for extending the ethical space of jewellery. It has potential power as counterweight to the consumerist paradigm that sees the world as reducible to human need. Indeed, the alternative model of custodianship has strong associations with Pacific notions of power in the object, such as taonga.

Dear jewellery, would you mind if….

Every brooch has a catch

Vicki Mason Oregano, Wattle and Rose brooches. Photo by Bill Shaylor

Vicki Mason Oregano, Wattle and Rose brooches. Photo by Bill Shaylor

Vicki Mason Oregano, Wattle and Rose brooches. Photo by Bill Shaylor


The other day, a curator from Papua New Guinea was telling me about a particular custom of hospitality she grew up with called ‘hamal’. In certain circumstances, if a visitor expresses a liking for something that you possess, you are then obliged to give it to them. Clearly, this is a custom suited more to villages than cities. It’s hard to imagine it happening in an urban context, or is it?

At the end of the Signs of Change exhibition, three lucky winners will have their names drawn to receive a brooch by Melbourne jeweller Vicki Mason. The brooches are modelled on the wattle, rose and oregano plants, beautifully rendered in powder-coated brass (sourced from a scrap yard) and recycled flexible plastics sourced as remnants from the stationary industry. These plants are common features of suburban gardens in Australia, but Mason argues that they represent a common bounty, which she links to the elusive prospect of Australia becoming a republic. As she says:

If Australia is one day to become a republic then a new style of gardening to accompany a new style of governing seems possible. The work for this exhibition has the symbolic potential to promote the social value of gardens as reflecting notions of community, that is the essence of republicanism.

So if you receive this brooch, you also take on a republican vision. But there’s a catch. If someone praises the brooch while you are wearing it, you are obliged to give it to them – as long as they will agree to the same conditions as you. Easy come, easy go. Members of this chain are encouraged to leave comments on a website to record the transaction and reflect on its meaning.

The exhibition still has a couple of weeks to run. Tune in to her website at http://broachingchangeproject.wordpress.com/ to monitor progress. Who knows, you might end up as one of the links in the chain.

Mason’s work is a bold attempt to engage with the relational dimension of jewellery as a precious object that can link people together. Her work resonates back to situation in PNG. The anthropologist Malinowski describes a parallel arrangement called the kula, where villages organise their world around exchange of shell necklaces:

Perhaps as we read the account of these remote customs there may emerge a feeling of solidarity with the endeavours and ambitions of these natives. Perhaps man’s mentality will be revealed to us, and brought near, along some lines which we never have followed before. Perhaps through realising human nature in a shape very distance and foreign to us, we shall have some light shed on our own.

Perhaps the past has a future too.

Reference

Bronislaw Malinowski Argonauts of The Western Pacific: An Account of Native Enterprise and Adventure in the Archipelagoes Of Melanesian New Guinea London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1987 (orig. 1922), p. 25

Craft in Fiji – more than souvenirs

Senaloli

Senaloli

Senaloli Sovea at the Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans

As a matriarch of the Fijian craft scene, Seniloli expresses a strong commitment to traditional values. The first value is silence when being taught. ‘You watch! If you ask questions, half the time you forget. Your head will be creating new ideas.’ The second is to keep it personal. ‘I don’t want to be taken in by retailers. I’d rather sell it on the price that I am happy, and that’s it.’ This doesn’t just mean a good return to the craftsperson – it can also mean giving something away as a gift.

I was in Fiji to participate in a craft workshop organised by the Fiji Arts Council with the Pacific Arts Alliance. This coincided with a remarkable cultural feast.

The second Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans brought craftspeople from across the Pacific. Under one tent were gathered makers from Samoa, Tonga, Tuvalu, Cooke Islands, French Polynesia, Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea, Aotearoa and, of course Fiji. It was a spirited gathering, particularly when the Tongans were in full song.

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The festival coincided with the Miss South Pacific Pageant, which may sound clichéd, but turned out to be quite serious. Environment was the theme of this year’s contest. Over a gruelling week, each island’s representative had to demonstrate not only their beauty and charm, but also their cultural depth and political aptitude. As much as anything, the contestants provided elegant hosts for some stunning traditional fabrics and jewellery. Thankfully, Miss Fiji ended up winning the crown, and her thoughtful speech would put most politicians to shame. Next year it moves to PNG.

The Wasawasa Festival also included the first in what will hopefully be a series of craft workshops for local practitioners. For an outsider palagi (white person) like me, it was a wonderful way to learn about the local scene. Where people happy in their craft or did they seek something more? Was it becoming increasingly difficult to produce traditional craft? Did the tourist market seem limited to kitsch curios? Was there interest in product development and export?

One has to be careful here. Hidden in this questions is the assumption that it is the responsibility of the outsider to fix the problems in a poorer country. This certainly seems the foundation of much Australian involvement in the region. But craft challenges that position. As Seniloli noted during the workshop, packaging your culture for foreign markets involves many compromises. What was previously exchanged as part of meaningful rituals is now reduced to the universal currency of dollar bills. Objects disappear into the ether, rather than building a chain of reciprocation.

But if it’s a choice between sustaining or losing a tradition, it may be a compromise that makers feel is necessary. In which case, there are ways of building on the phenomenon of ethical consumerism to extend this symbolic chain across cultures.

Representatives of the ANZ Bank discussing micro-finance

Representatives of the ANZ Bank discussing micro-finance

The workshop covered a range of topics, including ethical trends, supply chains, micro-finance, Fair Trade and Traditional Knowledge as Intellectual Property. Fiji is pioneering quite an important application of Regional Framework for the Protection of Traditional Knowledge and Expressions of Culture developed by the Secretariat of the Pacific Community in 2002 (can be downloaded here). This involves a cultural mapping of traditional knowledge throughout the villages of Fiji and the establishment of a system whereby use of these materials can be vetted and authorised. It’s a daunting project, but they are nearly half way.

During the workshop we heard a number of stories about opportunities for export had been lost because local makers were unable to meet deadlines due to unexpected contingencies. While this was initially attributed to lack of experience in doing business, there were some who thought that they were right to put personal obligations first.

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To bring out the issues further, we adapted the role play previously titled ‘Good Intentions are Not Enough’. This time, the ‘Big Picture’ focused on the supply chain that stretched from an Andean village to a craft store in Vancouver. As happened previously, there were many hitches initially as the first products failed to gain sales in the urban market. However, this time, two new strategies emerged. First, the artisans decided rather than change their traditional methods to style a poncho, they would simply produce the yardage and have it finished in a factory down in Cuzco. Second, one of the parents decided to directly support the designers and artisans, rather then purchasing their products. The workshop showed how new pathways open up when there is a sense of partnership between producer and consumer.

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The workshop concluded with a feeling that more needed to be done to connect craftspersons together, to learn of opportunities and to host future workshops dealing with specific issues like business skills and packaging. This provided an auspicious context for the launch of the Pacific Craft Network, as part of the Pacific Arts Alliance. This has the potential to re-establish a presence for the World Craft Council in the Pacific region.

In all, the workshop was powerful testament to a renewed spirit in craft across Fiji and the Pacific. This craft is much more than kitschy souvenirs for tourists. The challenge now seems to be how to build on these strong foundations.

The following days gave me the opportunity to get to know the craftspersons a little better. But that’s for the next post.

UNESCO workshop for Artisans and Designers – who owns culture?

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The UNESCO Workshop for Artisans and Designers in Santiago brought together participants from Uruguay, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Paraguay, Colombia and Brazil. For three days, we discussed the ethics of the relationship between those who make craft products and those who develop them for markets. It was a fascinating workshop for many reasons.

First, it was interesting to witness the manner in which people of diverse views come together like this in Latin America. It was very smoothly and warmly facilitated by Rafael del Campo, who used a ‘world café’ method to ensure everyone had a chance to contribute to discussions. Celina Rodriquez from Universidad Catolica helped ensure the program had a warm welcome from local artisan communities. Generally, the event was framed as a celebration of the way artisans and designers can complement each other. The participating artisans spoke very positively about the way designers enabled their careers to develop. The Chilean wood carver Hector Bascuñan described the designer that he collaborated with as an ‘angel’. But there was still plenty of opportunity to consider the tensions that exist in this relationship.

One burning issue was the ownership of intellectual property. I contributed to this inadvertedly by presenting the example of Better World Arts, the Australian organisation that brokers designs from the Kaltjiti community in the desert centre with artisans in the Kashmir and Peru, who translate their designs into rugs and jewellery. This was quite a surprising arrangement to those present. It challenged the implicit assumption that artisans can properly only make works that draw from their own culture. Much had to be explained about the Australian scene, how we lack those that might be called traditional artisans, and how it is difficult for indigenous communities to meet the demand for craft products within their own resources. It helped stimulate some very interesting discussions.

There were many who saw transnational craft as a way of the future. In the global craft ecology, continents like Latin America have the potential to provide the handmade dimension to various foreign creative industries, like product development and fashion – handbags handwoven in Bolivia, for example. But there are serious risks. In attaching the handmade component as an exotic feature, do we trivialise craft? Shouldn’t we consider craft as a whole, as the expression of culture in its own terms? But then if Bolivian artisans decide to accept a commission like this in order to simply survive, can anyone stop them?

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I believe in the power of cultural exogamy. There are many examples of cultural exchange that strengthen tradition. Tango was only really acknowledged in Argentina once it was ‘discovered’ in Paris. It has since been adopted by cultures all around the world, with its own distinctive Scandinavian, Slavic and Japanese versions. Despite this diffusion, Buenos Aires is still revered as the home of tango.

Can the same occur in craft? There are powerful examples, like ikat weaving, raku ceramics, Venetian glass, where its adoption by other cultures has strengthened the status of its point of origin. Seeing our own cultural techniques applied in foreign contexts helps not only demonstrate their potency, but also helps identify what is distinctive to ourselves. Seeing how Australians apply raku techniques shows its potency as an expression of place but also reveals by contrast what is different about the original Japanese version

The critical issue seems to be not one of contamination, but of commodification. Capitalist production does tend to appropriate cultural signs, decontextualise them, and then sell them for the biggest profit. When purchasing products, consumers are encouraged to consider brand identity rather than its point of origin. Given the powerful capitalist neighbour to the north, it is natural you can find in Latin America a defensive position towards cultural appropriation. Rightly so. Contrast the culture of Coca Cola with its indigenous origins in the Andes. But maybe there are other kinds of partnerships beyond cultural predation.

It is here where the issue of moral rights for producers seems to play a potentially important role. So often products that feature artisan origins fail to identify exactly who made the product. We have a system of moral rights for creators to ensure that when works of art or design are copied that the author is attributed. But this doesn’t exist for producers, even if their role is critical in development.

This is not a simple issue, as was made evident during the workshop. Two participants objected to the principle of individual attribution. The Brazilian designer José Alberto Nemer from Piracema Design Laboratory presented a notion of development as a romantic engagement with place which goes beyond self-conscious individual creativity. Piraceme is a native Tupi word to describe the phenomenon when fish return to their point of origin in order to spawn. This spirit of place should belong to no one individual. For different reasons, Pablo Bonaparte from the National Market of Traditional Artisans in Argentina also argued against individual ownership. For him, craft traditions are a communal entity and any attempt to sell this on the open market for individual gain would be a kind of betrayal.

While these were not the views of the majority, they were important points to consider. For Australians, this concept of collective ownership resonates with our acknowledgement that indigenous culture is a matter of custodianship. No one individual owns the designs or knowledge of Aboriginal communities. But there is a difference. Within limits, we also acknowledge the freedom of any individual indigenous artist to employ their designs as they see fit – even if woven in another country. Any attempt to resist that on the grounds of heritage would seem patriarchal, motivated more by whitefella romance that indigenous realities.

The UNESCO representative Frederic Vacheron reflected on this tension between communal heritage and individual creativity. Protection exists for both cultural heritage and individual copyright, but they can sometimes be in opposition to each other. Vacheron was confident that they could eventually be aligned, but it would take more than one workshop to do so.

In his concluding comments, Vacheron said that it was important to consider patrimony a living phenomenon, not something that needs to be isolated from the world for its survival. He said it was important to look at what was happening in Australia as an example of how traditional craft practices might find new opportunities in a globalised world. Likewise, we in Australia need to consider the Latin American views if we are to draw on their traditions to revitalise our own culture.

Along with many nations in the ‘collective west’, Australia is on a return journey back from dizzy heights of globalisation to its own piece of solid ground. As our craft skills decline, we become more dependent on artisans in other countries to provide the handmade quality that helps realise the human dimension in our designs. But can we outsource craft in the same way we have our shirts sewn anonymously in China? For the handmade to have meaning it needs a real connection with its maker. We need to know something about who made it, where their skill comes from, what they benefit in making it, and how they would like us to care for their result.

In getting to know artisans better, we can also discover something about ourselves too. What is the status of indigenous culture in their politics? How do they deal with the challenges of climate change? In what way do they respond to the cultural dominance of the north?

I certainly got to know the Latin American journey(s) a little better after this workshop. The status of being a ‘third world’ creates a sense of vulnerability to the more powerful economies particularly to the north. To northern economies, local cultural traditions are often seen as signs of backwardness. Many in Latin America thus try to present an alternative measure of value. For them, a sense of one’s own culture is more precious than the flows of capital that course through world markets. An organisations like UNESCO, which recognise the value of cultural diversity, are held in particularly high regard here. Nevertheless, financial poverty brings its own problems. So how can culture be aligned with the needs of the market without destroying its value?

It’s plain that we need to work together if we are to use globalisation as a force for good, not evil. As Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, ‘If you cannot prevent your enemies from swallowing you, at least you can prevent them from digesting you.’  So it is with cultural appropriation. It will happen. It has the capacity to aerate and enrich our cultural traditions. But we need to be prepared to prevent it also dissolving embodied cultural meanings into mere products for consumption. The workshop was a very encouraging first step in this preparation, but there is much work ahead.

We need now to invite other voices into this conversation, particularly from Africa and Asia. UNESCO is in the unique position to carry this dialogue further. But there are others, like the World Craft Council and International Design Alliance (particularly the Indigo project), who can play an important role. The workshop next month in Fiji is another step towards extending this dialogue. Throughout this process, the development of an international code of practice for craft-design collaborations is one concrete way to ensure we keep talking with each other.

Fair’s fair, but there’s also an art to partnership

A recent forum on the Fair Trade model for creative industries proposed that something more is needed to promote equitable cultural partnerships.

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The forum ‘Fair Trade for Creative Labour’ at RMIT’s Design Research Institute explored the regulation of cultural production through accreditation formats like Fair Trade. Speakers included Associate Professor Tim Scrase (Wollongong University), who has published widely in the plight of artisans particularly in India, Linda Chalmers (Oxfam Australia) who product manager for the largest Fair Trade business in Australia dealing with world craft, and Associate Professor Donald Feaver (RMIT University), who specialises in the new field of translational law. This was an unique opportunity to think both critically and constructively about how creative producers in the Global South work with designers and artists from the richer countries.

Tim Scrase began with a strong critical perspective on schemes like Fair Trade. He invoked the concept of ‘commodity fetishism’ to describe a process whereby the meaning of a product is taken out of the hands of the producer. He expressed scepticism of Fair Trade as a system that creates ‘rigmarole’ and doesn’t address the inherent inequity of a market system.

Linda Chalmers was able to respond by describing the Oxfam model. She admitted that the purpose of the trading arm is to make money. But she distinguished this from corporate model where profit flows to shareholders. Instead, it is the producers who benefit. For Chalmers, overarching concern is the broader Oxfam goal of poverty alleviation. She informed us that they currently have 23 shops in Australia which last year sold works to the value of $11m. They represent 100 producer networks from 30 countries. When Oxfam engages with design, it is usually on a philanthropic basis and the designer does not receive any benefit. Part of the partnership is for the designer to pass on their skills so they are no longer needed. Linda advocated for Fair Trade as an evolving system that offered the best deal in working with producers.

Donald Feaver presented a typology of Codes of Practice. He argued that purely internal Codes rarely work. But as globalisation is extending supply chains, it has become increasingly important to find ways of ensuring common standards from beginning to end. Because these extend beyond national boundaries, the development of these codes has been largely beyond the scope of individual nation states, and has instead become largely a private concern. Feaver spoke particularly of the development of a code for CIBJO, the world jewellery body. This provoked much animated discussion about whether a private organisation could be the best vehicle for an ethical code.

The ensuing discussion highlighted a divide between the Fair Trade model and the ‘high end’ of the market. The textile artist Samorn Sanixay spoke about being approached by an exclusive design store to stock her product made in Laos. On being a given a price for her scarves, they responded that they were ‘too cheap to sell’ – their customers would only buy these if they were triple the price. She queried how Fair Trade could reach this end of the market.

The discussion identified a current limit to the Fair Trade model in how it deals with creative products, such as ‘designer goods’ or art works. Fair Trade has been identified particularly with agriculture where the primary focus is worker’s wages and conditions. In creative products, there are less easily measured values such as authenticity and intellectual property. Standards for these differ between and within cultures.

At the moment, there are important moves within Fair Trade to accommodate these issues. For instance, the draft Sustainable Fair Trade Management System has a provision:

6.5.4 Where the Organisation produces direct copies of existing designs that have not been produced by its own designers, it obtains and retains documentary evidence that the copying of a design is agreed upon by the original designer or producer group.

Fair Trade is providing an important base on which supply chains can be made equitable. But as the forum’s discussion identified, there can be problems with a system of accreditation which enables retailers to tick boxes without critically appraising what’s happening on the ground. This is not a problem with Fair Trade per se, but with the limits of an international and necessary bureaucratic structure.

Designers like Samorn Sanixay seem to be wanting something in addition. The issue of cultural sensitivity was raised as critical in developing partnerships with traditional producers. It’s difficult to imagine any system of accreditation being able to cover issues such as appropriateness of designs used in different contexts. This requires trust and openness between the guest designer and host community. A well-built relationship has the potential to involve producers more creatively in the process of product development.

There seems a need for an extension of the Fair Trade system which enables critical reflection on the issues involved in collaboration. This would both set out important principles in how partnerships are developed and provide a conversation where individual experiences could add to a collective wisdom. In addition to the minimal standards for accreditation, this could pose aspirational goals for ideal practice.

Fair Trade is certainly one of the most significant developments this century in the promotion of world craft. It’s enabled hundreds of craft cooperatives to find a market for their work and assured consumers about the benefits of their purchase to producers. It’s currently in a state of rapid evolution as it tries to keep step with ever expanding expectations of a Fair Trade model. Could we imagine a Fair Trade art? That’s a question still to be answered, but it is likely to involve more than fulfilling accreditation criteria. What might that be?

This conversation will continue next month at the UNESCO workshop on craft-design collaborations in Santiago. Craft Unbound will continue to feature examples of artists, craftspersons and designers working across the cultural divide. As they straddle rich and poor worlds, heritage and sustainability values, their stories deepen our understanding of how the world fits together. In the future, we can begin to identify what these principles are.

One possible place to start would be with Nelson Mandela’s advice, ‘the first thing is to be honest with yourself’.

Bali carves up the Glick International Foundation

Made Leno works on a sculpture of Rodney Glick

Made Leno works on a sculpture of Rodney Glick

You come up with a brilliant idea. You find someone with the skills to realise that idea perfectly. You work out a fair price. While the person is completing the job, others discover your idea and start copying it. Should you try to stop them, or risk your singular idea now just being one of many? This is the problem that Rodney Glick found having his art made in Bali.

I think Rodney Glick is one of Australia’s most interesting artists. I’m usually left cold by conceptual work, but Glick’s installations always leave me with a strong sense of non-being – others might call it spiritual. His public art at Subiaco Station using close circuit cameras created something transcendent from an everyday commute.

But more than just an individual artist, Glick also creates spaces for others to create in. He first came to prominence in the eastern states with the Glick International Collection, a purely fabricated international collection along with fictional artists and writers. Following that, he established a colleague Marco Marcon a residency program in a small wheat town in the middle of nowhere – Kellerberin. I guess while so many artists on the west coast (and east coast) of Australia are striving to be somewhere (i.e., Venice or New York), Glick is attracted to the nowhere places. There it’s possible to construct something new.

I’ve never connected Rodney with craft before, but his most recent series has strong relevance to new practices involving collaboration with traditional artisans.

Rodney Glick is one of an increasing number of artists working with Indonesian artisans, particularly wood carvers. For a recent Perth exhibition, Rodney commissioned a Balinese wood carver Made Leno from Kemenuh south of Ubud. He asked Made Leno to carve a life-size version of the multi-armed Hindu god, but based on likeness of Western figures, including himself. This involved quite a technical leap, as traditionally these statues had been made only of iconic divine figures. There was quite prolonged and open negotiation about price and cultural sensitivity, and with time a beautiful carved figure began to emerge.

Glick was concerned that these works would be seen as disrespectful. However, when he inquired about this, he was surprised to see how warmly they were received: ‘While the sculptures do show Western people in poses that suggest Hindu gods, or in one case Buddha, they have been generally seen in Bali not as suggesting that their gods have been belittled, but rather as suggesting a divine presence that is in everyone and that links all humanity.’

Made Leno negotiates with Chris Hill about the carving job

Made Leno negotiates with Chris Hill about the carving job

Second time around, Made Leno works with a written contract - much better

Second time around, Made Leno works with a written contract - much better

But there was one problem – though it was more a result of the work’s positive reception, than any complaint. A nearby stone carver started also to make likenesses. Local Balinese soon started to inquire whether they could have statues made of their family in this manner. Rodney became concerned about this. According to his collaborator Chris Hill, ‘We have talked to the carver about this and he accepts our point of view that Rodney should retain some control over works done according to his idea, not because he wanted some financial reward but to protect the integrity of the concept.’ They cited the uncontrolled production of Australian Aboriginal artefacts in Bali as a sign of how copying can get out of hand.

Rodney is not dogmatic about this control. He has become involved in many other projects in Bali. As well as showing the work locally, he has helped start up valuable agricultural projects.

But this case does reveal a contradiction between the Balinese and Western creative economies. Artists like Rodney are attracted to Indonesia partly because of the ease with which it is possible to get things done. Artisanship there doesn’t come with legal strings attached: no contracts are necessary – it’s a personal thing . Yet taken to its limit, such a system can undermine the Western creative economy that artists like Rodney depend on. If the market is flooded with imitations of his work, then the one-off art works are in danger of losing value.

These figures formed a series called 'Everyone' that were included in the God-Favoured exhibition at Lawrence Wilson Gallery.

These figures formed a series called 'Everyone' that were included in the God-Favoured exhibition at Lawrence Wilson Gallery.

Rodney has to survive as an artist too. He’s one of Australia’s most creative and interesting artists, but he’s certainly not wealthy.

So what’s the ethical course of action here? Does Rodney have the right to prevent unauthorised use of his idea? In China, manufacturers can offer discount rates to produce branded goods because they get tooled up then to produce cheap imitations free of royalties. This proves unsustainable – in the end, everyone loses.

In addition, where do we place Glick’s work in agricultural development? Is that just a side effect resulting from his human response to the world he discovered. While Glick would most likely dismiss this as just his own personal intervention, is it possible to see this contribution as integral to his work, in the same way that we might see the Fair Trade label as part of the experience of eating the chocolate inside its wrapping?

I guess that we ask all these questions is part of the value of Rodney’s work. It’s an open dialogue at the moment. Lena Mado has been commissioned for a new series of works. Something’s working.

Timor-Leste – A king’s granddaughter helps re-weave a nation

The following text is from Sara Niner, courtesy of the Alola Foundation:

    Dom Alexio and Ofelia's grandfather Magno

    Dom Alexio and Ofelia's grandfather Magno

    Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

    The back-strap loom common to Timor and surrounding islands was brought down by migrants from the Bronze-age Dongson culture in mainland South-east Asia around 500BC. Today, geometric Dongson patterning and designs from Indian cloth traded by Arabs and Europeans for slaves and spices in Timor in the second century are mixed with motifs from indigenous myth and lore such as boats and crocodiles representing the original ancestors’ journeys to the islands. Local ceremonies and rituals of birth, marriage and death employ exchange of such cloth to bind together and integrate the worlds of the living and the spirits, expressing a desire for union and balance between the two worlds. Cloth is the physical embodiment of femaleness and, as sacred Lulik objects and heirlooms, they possess special powers.

    Partially completed weaving on backstrap loom from Timor-Leste. Loom design by Ofelia Neves Napoleao

    Partially completed weaving on backstrap loom from Timor-Leste. Loom design by Ofelia Neves Napoleao

    Partially completed weaving on backstrap loom from Timor-Leste. Loom design by Ofelia Neves Napoleao

    The motif here is a floral design from Portugal—the colonisers of Timor from the 16th Century until the Indonesian invasion of 1975. The designer Ofelia Neves Napoleao is the child of a Portuguese father and a Timorese mother who was the daughter of the Luirai or local king of Ainaro, Antonio Magno. In the feudal-style society of Ofelia’s childhood, Luirai families constituted the upper class ruling over a common farming people and below that, a caste of slaves. In the wet season she watched her royal grandmother, Antonieta Varradas Magno, prepare the cotton, and tie it off with palm leaves for dyeing and then in the dry season, dye and weave the finished cloth. Ofelia also learnt patterns from her fiancé’s royal family, the Napoleaos, of Oecussi, the old Portuguese enclave resting inside Dutch, now Indonesian West Timor. As the eldest grandchild of the last Luirai of Ainaro, Ofelia is accorded a certain respect and status in Timor.

    Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

    Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

    Luirai Dom Alexio Corte Real of Ainaro and WWII hero (Centre) with Local Chiefs and Antonio Magno (far right). Aileu, Portuguese Timor 1938

    These old royal elites were close to their Portuguese colonisers and, like Ofelia, spoke Portuguese. Led by Prince Henry the Navigator, Portuguese colonialism was rooted in the glorious beginnings of the ‘Age of Discovery’ when the Portuguese set out to explore the rest of the world reclaiming millions of lost native souls for the Catholic faith while growing rich on trade and conquests. Ferdinand Magellan arrived in the Spice Islands of which Timor was part early in the 16th century and Timorese myth characterized them as younger brothers, recalled to Timor by the elders of the mountains to rule in worldly affairs.

    Ofelia Neves Napoleao at work

    Ofelia Neves Napoleao at work

    Ofelia Neves Napoleao buying cloth at Oecussi, 2008

On the day of the bloody Indonesian invasion in 1975 Ofelia was a young woman forced to run zigzag across their courtyard with her little brothers to dodge bullet sprays. Fleeing the Indonesian occupation she followed her Oecussi fiancé to Perth, spending 20 years there trying to help her family in Timor, raising two sons and becoming a skilled craftswoman. After the destruction of the final Indonesian withdrawal in 1999, she returned and found her place helping local women rebuild their lives by running weaving and craft programs. She now works with the Alola Foundation managing the Taibesse Sewing Centre, in a hot and cavernous shed, part of an old Portuguese Army barracks, overseeing 25 staff sewing handbags from the hand-woven cloth. She visits weavers in the countryside and buys cloth according to the principles of fair-trade. In 2008 she prepared this loom for a Melbourne Exhibition to demonstrate the intricacy and skill of the weaving process.

Sara Niner has been researching the life of East Timorese leader Xanana Gusmao for ten years and will publish his biography this year. She visited East Timor as a backpacker in August 1991 and the country and its struggle has become a big part of her life since then. Travelling around the island in 2000-1 searching out sites of significance in Gusmao’s life she found the land beautiful and solemn and beginning to soften after the immense raw devastation of 1999. She also saw how utterly exhausted the people were and the enormity of the task ahead for them and the agonising frustrating slowness of reconstruction. Yet after one trip far into the east of the country she wrote:

I was filled with euphoria and hope after a rich and emotional day of communication with people of vastly different experience that made it seem as if all things might be possible.

She has worked with the textiles and the weavers since that time to put on exhibitions, research and write about the craft and assist with a program of craft development and economic empowerment.

I feel that this half finished weaving embodies the new country of Timor-Leste where the task of rebuilding continues. Hope prevails but is often hard to sustain in the difficult post-war environment where violence and poverty mean hard lives for many women and men. Yet people continue to struggle everyday working to care for their families and communities and revive their culture.

For more information, download this document.

    Sara Niner at work (second from left)

    Sara Niner at work (second from left)

    Sara Niner at work (second from left) with sewing co-op Metinaro IDP camp, 2008

Sara Niner has been researching the life of East Timorese leader Xanana Gusmao for ten years and will publish his biography this year. In 2003 she produced a travelling show Weaving Women’s Stories which promoted East Timorese tais, showing the strength and beauty of this traditional weaving . She now works with the Alola Foundation and is an instructional designer with the Ministry of Finance, Timor-Leste Government (RDTL). She is also completing a research project Strong Cloth in Timor-Leste: Women’s Craft and Development at Monash University.
The loom and products can be seen on display in the World of Small Things, Craft Victoria, 18 June – 27 July 2009.

Rwandan grass meets German silver

Jewellery of natural fibers from Butare, Rwanda, designed and made in cooperation with Martina Dempf, Germany

Jewellery of natural fibers from Butare, Rwanda, designed and made in cooperation with Martina Dempf, Germany

Jewellery of natural fibers from Butare, Rwanda, designed and made in cooperation with Martina Dempf, Germany (photograph by Sebastian Ahlers)

The range of jewellery made by Martina Dempf in collaboration with basket weavers from Rwanda shows an intriguing combination of cultures. The vibrant designs and fine weaving of African grass is housed within elegantly crafted European silver. How did this collaboration come about?

Martina Dempf is a jeweller based in Berlin. She studied jewellery at Pforzheim under Rheinhold Reiling. While still a student, she took half a year to work as a volunteer in a project by Swiss Aid based in Lesotho (Southern Africa) with a jewellery company called the Royal Crown Jewellers.

At the end of her course, Martina travelled with her husband through the whole African continent  (Egypt to South Africa), where she decided to study anthropology. She completed a MA thesis in the Free University of Berlin (‘People Adorned. The Material Culture of the Toposa in Southern Sudan and the Turkana in Northern Kenya’). During the 1980s, she conducted field trips in Sudan, Kenya, Eritrea, Dschibuti and Yemen. Her recent field trips have included Turkana, Kenya (2006) and Toposa, Southern Sudan (2008)

INTASHYA; natural body black pattern; Component: inside bamboo decoration swamp grass

INTASHYA; natural body black pattern; Component: inside bamboo decoration swamp grass

Intashya style basket made by the cooperative of Nyamagabe (COPAF) incorporating natural body black pattern; Component: inside bamboo decoration swamp grass

Martina Dempf, Necklace “In the eye of the snake” 2002, 925 silver, snake bones, length 60 cm,

Martina Dempf, Necklace “In the eye of the snake” 2002, 925 silver, snake bones, length 60 cm,

Martina Dempf, Necklace “In the eye of the snake” 2002, 925 silver, s

During one of these trips in 1986, she visited Rwanda, where she saw the fine grass-woven small baskets and thought they could be used to make jewellery. Traditionally, small baskets were made for the royal court. In 2007, she approached GTZ (German Technical Co-operation) and was invited to work with a group of 40 women in Butare who were organized in a crafts association (Rwanda Art). Martina found a thesis on traditional Rwandan crafts and together with the women, they created a collection of grass jewellery. The women created the grass centre while Martina makes the silver casing. Martina is also working with artisans in Laos and Cambodia.

necklace with 4 pearls round and 3 disks in swamp grass

necklace with 4 pearls round and 3 disks in swamp grass

Necklace with 4 pearls round and 3 disks in swamp grass made by women in Butare

The Rwandan craftswomen continue to produce jewellery designs that emerged from their collaboration with Martina, and Martina also continues to source Rwandan components for her jewellery.

The swamp (papyrus) grass jewellery is made by Dafan Mukantabashwa, Virginie Uwizeyimana, Pelagie Nyirahabineza, Alphonsine Urayeneza and Valentine Nyirakimonyo. The sisal jewellery is made by Anizerata Nyitanteziyaremye, Suzanne Uwitije, Daphrose and Libératha.

As with any collaboration between artisans from rich and poor countries, we are left with many questions. What does jewellery mean to Rwandans? Is it something purely for export? Were there new skills required in adapting basket-weaving to jewellery making? Can the aesthetic worth of Martina’s jewellery be distinguished from its ethical value? Does its ethical value make us predisposed to enjoy her work more or are we wary that our appreciation is predetermined by our politics?

Thanks to jewellers like Martina for opening up these issues, as well as making objects for us to enjoy. And thanks to Rwandan craftswomen for sharing their culture in a medium for us that we consider precious.

You can see the jewellery produced by Martina and the Rwandan woman at the World of Small Things, in Craft Victoria 18 June – 25 July.

Links

· www.martina-dempf.de

· www.rwanda-art.com

Fulidai-dai – another way of thinking about craft

Deb Salvagno works for the East Timor Women’s Association, which runs tours of the Lautem district in East Timor, where traditional weaving flourishes. They also are involved in broader community development including health and education. Here she answers questions about the nature of this exchange between those inside and outside East Timor. It’s particularly interesting to read her reflection on fulidai-dai, the local gift economy that supports the transmission of craft skills.

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What do you think is special about the craft produced in the Lautem district of East Timor?

The predominant craft medium we work with is traditional hand-woven cloth known as tais. All over the island of East Timor, tais are signifiers of ethnicity, and designs are specific to language groups. They contain motifs that are a symbolic dialogue of diverse cultural practices. Even when the motifs cannot be associated to culture, they usually represent something more than decoration. The women we work with live in remote communities in the south east corner of the island; in the flatlands of Los Palos and the densely forested highlands of Iliomar. Los Palos is home to the Fataluku people. Tais woven by weavers in this community utilise futus (ikat) dyeing methods to express their ancestral heritage. Fataluku tais are revered and valued highly in traditional exchange. In Iliomar, weavers from the Makalero people use a combination of floating warp techniques to create rows of a unique and dainty floral motif. Usually presented in white on red or brown back cloth, these motifs have their origins in colonial exchange with the Portuguese who first came to East Timor in the middle ages. Iliomar weavers also utilise futus dyeing methods, however the European inspired floral motif is unique to this area of East Timor. Fataluku tais are more valuable locally than the Iliomar tais as the relationship between these two communities are steeped in ancient pacts and power relations.

Learning about the anthropology of cloth consumption and how the consolidation of social relations and specific cultural values are expressed through tais has been an amazing learning journey for me personally. By the commercial application of the traditional skills used to create tais, the women we work with hope to safeguard their traditions while simultaneously easing the disadvantages of poverty; this area of this craft practice is extraordinary and presents great potential.

Do they need help? What kind and why?

Product design and quality control are two one of the many areas where artisans in East Timor need our assistance. As cloth is created for tradition rather than for markets, product should integrate and balance both the cultural distinctiveness of the cloth and commercial application of the women’s skills. ETWA works with the Cooperative for Tais and Cultural Development (CTCD), which has 86 female members drawn from three weaving collectives in Iliomar and Los Palos. These women come from the poorest and most disadvantaged families in the region; approximately 25% of female members were widowed during the Indonesian occupation, literacy is low and many members have limited access to farmlands. The coop is attempting to deal with the challenges presented by independence- and the challenges are many. The cost of everything is rising; imported cotton has risen by approximately 150% in the past twelve months. Many women are desperate for cash so they underprice their weavings and often they’re losing money as well as hours of back-breaking work. Clearly this is making them poorer, so it’s not surprising that paying for life’s necessities is a major challenge.

While income is generated through weaving tais and transforming it into soft fashion accessories such as bags, as one south-east Asia’s least developed countries, the design and quality of their finished product is low-grade. Developing international markets is vital as the domestic market for weavings is inadequate, however, until product design and quality improves, prospects for increasing market share are minimal. The back strap weaving technique also produces textiles that are as varied and unique as the women who produce them, so improving consistency of output is important. The imported cotton yarn available in East Timor is intended for commercial use and the colour range and quality are substandard. We are hoping that with assistance from the Australian design community, we can support the communities in Iliomar and Los Palos to begin growing high grade cotton locally and thereby replace the need for imported cotton. Through this process, we will increase local cash flows, improve product quality and help artisans to maintain their dyeing traditions as the colours of traditional tais are exquisite. As we take a holistic approach to our work, we are also looking to improve the women’s health and will undertake research in June this year. We’re excited about the possibilities this will open for the weavers.

Can they help us? Can you explain what Fulidai-dai is?

CTCD’s organisational model is based on the cultural notion of Fulidai-dai; a concept unique to the Makalero people of Iliomar. It is a set of cultural norms that govern relationships towards reciprocity, mutual exchange and collective support. The practice of Fulidai-dai encourages cooperation and puts the focus on supporting one another rather than encouraging individualism and competition. Through Fulidai-dai, groups work in reciprocity for the greater good of their community, such as working together in the fields, building houses, looking after children or caring for community members when they are sick. The notion of Fulidai-dai also encourages the passing on of wisdom, so when women share their knowledge of traditional arts with younger women, they are practicing Fulidai-dai; it ensures that cross-generational and cross- gender cooperation and sharing occurs.

By integrating the notion of Fulidai-dai which encourages collective decision making, common ownership, consultation and member participation, CTCD has developed a culturally appropriate business model. Unlike the state and privately-owned cooperatives that operated in East Timor during the Indonesian occupation, the principles of Fulidai-dai are similar to -yet run deeper than- the principles of International cooperatives.

In the west, many people feel we have lost the deep sense of connectedness and community that the people of East Timor share so there is much we can learn. Mutuality, cooperation, patience, loyalty and the essence of friendship are just a few of the ways of being that we can learn from the weavers in Iliomar. And of course the things we learn are equally as important as the gift of support we bring. Acknowledging Fulidai-dai as a legitimate and honourable practice rather than imposing a business model appropriate to our culture, is another way we can support the women to use cultural traditions to build new futures for their communities. If inclined, we can bring these notions back to Australia to help regenerate community here.

Where would you like to see the partnership between them and us continue in the future?

In East Timorese society, the practice of giving and exchanging helps to maintain harmony within communities. If we perceive our work with CTCD in this light, we acknowledge that we both give and receive and we recognize that when two cultures join together in recognition of what each can bring to the other, endless possibilities are created. We aim that our partnerships continue this way on a road towards empowerment for both the East Timorese women we work with and for our members and supporters in Australia. Our annual weaving tour is an example of this. The tour gives participants an opportunity to learn about traditional weaving and dyeing through a series of participatory workshops and East Timorese weavers receive an opportunity to express their craft.

On a more practical level, we aim to work with communities to build a central space for research, design, product development and training and a place of mutual exchange where the International design community can exchange skills with East Timorese artisans in Lautem. We recognize that what we as Australian women bring to the relationship is access to resources and to markets to help give CTCD members access to the things they need to improve their quality of life.

Deb Salvagno has a background in the rag trade and has a BA in Community Development. She has worked in East Timor since 2003 and is a volunteer with East Timor Women Australia.

The ethical turn, turn, turn

‘The rich swell up with pride, the poor from hunger.’
Sholom Aleichem

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As we saw a ‘linguistic turn’ transform humanities in the late 20th century, on our side of the millennium it seems that we are witnessing a wave of cultural accountability – an ‘ethical turn’.

Culture is no longer ‘innocent’ of politics. An artist cannot draw inspiration from the third world without accounting for his or her economic privileges. Similarly in disciplines such as anthropology and archaeology it is an expectation that the researcher works in partnership with the community – the knowledge which they glean must be paid for, usually in services.

This ethical turn may seem rather negative. Guilt can lead towards greater distance between cultures, as those from rich countries are hesitant to be seen as cultural predators. But there are positive developments too.

The existence of a just partnership between rich and poor is a valuable ideal, and increasingly we seem willing to pay for it. Fair Trade sales in commodities such as chocolate and coffee have risen greatly, up to 50% a year. Given the modest nature of these purchases, it is unlikely that they will be affected by the economic downturn.

Previously, it was the ‘customer is always right’. But now the interests of the producer have become relevant. There is a multitude of products that advertise their benefits to the community of origin, including bottled water, textiles, furniture, cosmetics and medicines.

As this trend continues the build, it naturally becomes commodified. We cringe to learn that McDonalds is now a member of the Rainbow Alliance. What guarantee do we have that such associations are more than marketing gimmicks, there to enhance the primary brand? As Nestlé, Coca-Cola and other global brands jump on the ethical bandwagon, we are tempted to become cynical about the whole ethical turn. How can we tell the difference between substance and advertising?

At this point, it seems important that those designing these products find a way of sustaining the trust of the consumer. The challenge is to provide the consumer with convincing information about the arrangement with the producing community. It’s hard to convey this information just as dry facts, there needs to be a compelling narrative about the challenges faced by the community and their current aspirations.

This is partly a design challenge. How do you develop products that ‘feel good’? How might the consumer feel that his or her purchase not only promises themselves goodness, but in a small way makes the world a better place? This product might be the exception. This product may not be not drawing on an unsustainable resource, subjecting displaced peoples to sweatshop conditions, exporting industrial pollution from first to third worlds, etc.

So we need to find a way of designing ethical value that will last. It’s not good enough to make ethics fashionable. Today’s trend is tomorrow’s dumpster. And it’s not enough to be dewy-eyed. Today’s romantic myth is tomorrows hardened realism.

The project of a Code of Practice for Craft-Design Collaborations is designed to strengthen this ethical turn in product development. The initial phase is to open this question up for discussion in a way where no view is excluded, from the most idealistic to the most cynical. It is this openness that will serve to help develop an enduring understanding of the nature of an object’s ethical value.

This year, there are already two workshops planned to start this discussion. The first will be at Selling Yarns next month. The second will be in Santiago, Chile, in September.