Untitled Document

THE ARTIST AS RESEARCHER: THE ROLE OF THE ARTIST IN ADVANCING LIVING TRADITIONS IN ART David W. Ecker
The subject of my presentation is the artist as researcher. Specifically, I want to argue that artist-researchers have an important role to play in advancing living traditions in art around the world. I shall also argue that the matter is urgent because many traditional arts are dying or are already lost. However, you should ask for my credentials before allowing me to present my case. I was trained as an artist, as an art teacher, and as a researcher in art and art education. And for the last twenty years I have taught at New York University in the Department of Art and Art Education. But as you will soon discover, it is my students who have taught me what I know about the arts of many lands and many cultures. While these students come to New York University to learn how to become artists and art educators in the modern world, many of them return to their places of origin with a reawakened consciousness of their own art traditions, a strengthened sense of purpose, and a deeply felt need for cultural renewal. What they have accomplished through their field research has inspired me to create the International Society for the Advancement of Living Traditions in Art (ISALTA). The purpose of this organization is to coordinate our worldwide research efforts by sharing our documentation of those skills and performances and artistic processes that are endangered. My own field research as an artist-blacksmith has led me several times to India in the attempt to rediscover the long-lost art of making and forging Indian-Damascus steel. The creative, critical, theoretical, and historical research that my colleagues and I conducted in India, Germany, and the United States over many years was presented in an international symposium held at New York University in June of 1985. The theme of this symposium was The Damascus Blade: Legends and Realities. With Dr. G. N. Pant of the National Museum of New Delhi as co-chairman, we had twenty-one bladesmiths, arms and armor specialists, and metallurgists assembled to discuss advances in the bladesmith's art. But it is the research of my present and former students that I wish to emphasize here. The traditional arts they are documenting range geographically from those practiced not very far from New York University to arts found on the opposite side of the globe. Before discussing their work, however, I would like to state what I believe some of the issues are worldwide. Some of us are committed to doing what we can to assist the survivors of the industrial disaster in Bhopal, India. This disaster was the result of a poisonous gas explosion on December 2nd, 1984, at the Union Carbide pesticide factory. In drafting our proposal to help the victims we were necessarily forced to think about cultural survival in socio-economic terms as well as in the context of artistic and aesthetic values. We began to see that these dimensions are inextricably linked. An industrial disaster in a third-world country may cause an immediate and dramatic medical, economic or ecological crisis. An industrial disaster can also make visible a latent cultural crisis. But whether the situation is perceived as a cultural crisis is very much dependent on whether one is a member of the affected culture or outside that culture. The fact remains, however, that many of the world's traditional arts are either on the verge of extinction or becoming rapidly industrialized. While the impact of technology was felt in Europe and America in the last century, it is now being absorbed by the societies of developing countries. And many of the basic questions and choices remain the same: manual skills versus mechanical skills, loosely organized artisans versus disciplined and bureaucratized workers, work as creative praxis versus work as division of labour for mass production. Historically, aesthetic quality tends to fade with the introduction of interchangeable parts; artistic decline accompanies the loss of cultural identity. The felt need to preserve the meanings of a tradition in modern life is directly proportional to the loss of spiritual and material well-being of the artists and artisans sustaining an indigenous culture. Industrialization has brought employment and economic prosperity to many nations; yet it has also depleted natural resources, degraded the environment, and produced large-scale industrial accidents. In this context, art traditions have come to exist in an uneasy relationship with the forces of technology and industrialization. Economic and industrial policies in developing countries, informed by orthodox Western economic theories, largely focus on the technological aspects of industrialization. At best they exhibit a benign neglect of art traditions. Living traditions in art rarely receive attention in these economic models of development. Consequently, the practice of traditional arts is becoming progressively more unfeasible in conventional socio-economic terms. When massive rehabilitation and economic reconstruction are required, as in the present situation in Bhopal, India, what happens to the indigenous culture -- the artisans, their extended families, and the business infrastructure supported by their production - may well be determined by the model or models employed. The mission of the International Society for the Advancement of Living Traditions in Art is obvious. But my colleague, Paul Shrivastava, Professor of Management at New York University, and I have created a second non-profit organization, the Industrial Crisis Institute, whose objective is to study and develop positive responses to the problems created by industrial crises. Our first response, as I have already reported, was the international symposium on the bladesmith's art. Our second formal event was an international conference on Industrial Crisis Management held in September of 1986, also at New York University. Between these two events we have been shuttling between New York and India and elsewhere on various missions connected with our organizations. I would like now to share with you a more detailed account of our activities in relation to the Bhopal disaster to give an understanding of why our proposal took the shape and substance that it did. In our discussions with Indira Gandhi, Arjun Singh, then Chief Minister of the State of Madhya Pradesh, Askhok Vajpeyi, his Minister of Education and Culture, and Mr. Swaminathan, Director of the new Museum of Art in Bhopal, one idea explored was the possible collaboration between the museum and ISALTA in the form of a research center. But perhaps the most important outcome of these visits to India was a clearer notion of what was required to support selected traditional arts worldwide. We realized that we needed socioeconomic models derived from elements drawn from the culture of a region and responsive to its special needs and values. Thus, art viewed as entertainment, as a measure of social status, or as an investment by the New York artworld would seem to require a capitalistic model featuring supply and demand, private ownership, and so on. Contrast this view of art as commodity with traditional views of art as sacred and secular performances of making and doing that reinforce continuity and solidarity in the group. Clearly, a range of socio-economic models is required if we are to avoid a kind of cultural imperialism. We would argue that much the same analysis of the problems of industrial crisis management is required. Western solutions to the world's misery, suffering, and destruction have tended in the twentieth century to be "technological and humanistic", whereas earlier they tended to be religious or political solutions. In the name of science, human nature, or God, the assumption underlying these solutions is that they are culture free and have universal or transcendental efficacy. In contrast, we believe that the very meaning of "doing good for others" is culture-bound, as is the word "art" and the phrase "industrial crisis management" itself. More than "sensitivity" and "moral concern" are needed. Cultural crises, whether caused by natural or man-made catastrophes, from outside or within a particular culture, must be resolved on the terms set by the affected culture. Our immediate interest is in the cultural rehabilitation of the victims of the Bhopal disaster. The first step, we believe, is to identify the socio-economic problems directly related to the deaths of some 2,000 people, the disablement of perhaps 30,000 others, and the permanent closing of the Union Carbide plant with the direct loss of 650 jobs. Western solutions to these problems are available. One analyst on Wall Street has projected the figure of 500,000 rupies -- or about 40,000 dollars - as the total compensation that will be dispensed to the survivors of each victim who died. But whatever the amount of compensation anyone may eventually receive, new occupational opportunities must be provided. In the case of labourers out of work this means re-training; in the case of displaced artisans the traditional arts and crafts in the region must be strengthened and expanded. According to D.N. Saraf, in his book Indian Crafts: Development and PotentiaL handprinting is one of the most important crafts of Madhya Pradesh, employing nearly 10,000 workers. "Nandana prints are. traditional prints in fast colours, that were earlier used by villagers and tribals of the Nimar area, but are now being used as bed-spreads, table cloths, upholstery and garments." Bhopal is named as one of the twelve important printing centers in the state. Other important crafts produced in Madhya Pradesh include objects made of bell metal, stone ware, woodwork including carved figures of gods and goddesses, door carvings, and furniture, papier-mache and leather toys and dolls, carpets, glass beads, bamboo, terracotta, and saris. It should be mentioned here that efforts by the Indian government to preserve and advance its arts could well be followed by other developing countries in the Third World. In a private discussion with Indira Gandhi, the {then} Prime Minister provided several anecdotes exemplifying this historical struggle. She cited the British exploitation of the people who lived in the region now within Bangladesh. She wondered aloud whether the British actually cut off the thumbs of local weavers to suppress indigenous production in order to dominate the market, apparently suggested in a recent play in Delhi. She referred to Mahatma Gandhi's practical as well as symbolic emphasis on home-spun c~oth-making as central to the independence movement. She also mentioned the precipitous decline in the artistic quality of Indian cast brass artifacts following efforts to speed up production to meet economic competition on the international market. Another example she gave was embroidery. Originating as an art of personal adornment, the commercialization of this traditional art required increased production for greater profit with a subsequent degradation of the art. The Prime Minister emphasized the significance of the India Festival to be held in the United States beginning in 1985. But back in 1952 the All India Handicrafts Board was set up to document existing skills, to revive classical patterns, and to promote and market products. Undoubtedly, we have much to learn regarding how governmental and institutional support affects the traditional arts, and field research in India would surely yield valuable information upon which to base cultural policy. But we have also been deeply impressed with the relative immobility of governments - not to mention multinational corporations and other large institutions -- to respond to the current crisis in Bhopal. Given our firsthand assessment of the situation there, we wonder whether many of the survivors will receive any compensation. Beyond the documentation of the Bhopal disaster (to be published in book form this year) we propose, first, that a survey of living- traditions in art be conducted in the Bhopal region to determine prospects for re-training and enhancement of opportunities for artisans and their supporting distribution and marketing personnel. This survey might be carried out by the artisans themselves under the supervision of ISALTA-India. Second, that an international gallery be established in New York City to provide visibility for the finest traditional arts of India and other countries with the profits on sales of the initial exhibition going into a Bhopal artisan's relief fund. Third, that a computer-based stora-e and retrieval system be set up to provide direct access by anyone to information provided by surveys of the arts of India and worldwide. This new system of words and images would serve both as an Encyclopedia of Living Traditions in Art and as a catalogue of artworks and art processes to promote the artists and artisans themselves through direct commissions and other means of support. Our proposed survey of artisans in their social, economic, and cultural contexts is conceived as providing more than information on the present situation in the region. The survey would also seek imaginative projections of what could be the case: and philosophic, political, moral and aesthetic judgments about what should be the case with regard to the traditional arts. Depending upon which of these three functions the completed survey is asked to serve, the relevant data would be subject to quite different kinds of evaluation. For example, any claim about what is now the situation regarding textile workers can only be verified by further empirical inquiry; any projection about what could be the case, a product of the imagination, is to be checked against the anticipated constraints and opportunities of the future situation; and any proposal for what ought to happen is properly subject to philosophical, political, moral and aesthetic evaluations. Hence the speculative and normative activities of all participants in the survey as well as their actual accomplishments are to be assessed. Since perceptions are related to imaginative projects and judgments of all those surveyed, the likelihood of concerted action is a reasonable expectation. The kinds of information gathered by the survey would not only provide a knowledgebase for practical decisions, but the data might also suggest the dimensions of an appropriate socio-economic model for long-term planning. For example, the arts traditions in a particular region may have their own special and perhaps unique relationship to the social, political, and cultural life of the community. Questions designed to determine what is, what could be, and what should be the case with regard to these relationships appear in Line Six of the Matrix of survey questions on the status of traditional arts. See Table One. Identification of the unique dimensions of each model will depend upon surveys such as we have proposed. But enough has been learned about the general situation around the world to identify some common elements. My students come from many cultural backgrounds. And in my course Living Traditions in Art some of them for the first time see the importance -- indeed the moral obligation -- of documenting or extending by their own creative work a traditional art of their community, region, or country. If I merely name their topics you will have some idea of the range of inquiry: Safwat Nourel-Din on the problem of creativity and tradition in Kuwaiti ceramics; Insaf Fraih on Bedouin embroidery in Jordan; Arlene Lederman on Afghan crafts; Adel El Saghir on abstraction in Islamic art; Pairoj Jaimuni on modern Thai painting; Vivian Gottheim on Bomba Mei BuL ritual performance in Brazil; Elizabeth Henshaw on Nigerian art education policy; Chew Teng Beng on paper-making and paper art in Malaysia; Moses Fowowe on village potters of Nigeria; Cynthia Johnson on American Windsor chairmakers; Robert Spellman on the Black aesthetic; Patricia Wilson-Cryer on Puerto Rican painters in New York City; Maria Somoza on printmakers in Puerto Rico. No industrial crisis has yet been investigated to determine its impact on a traditional art, as far as I know. Yet each of these studies named tells a story of cultural crisis and cultural survival, often in the face of the rapid industrialization and technological progress that created the crisis. Models may be thought of as conceptual tools for understanding reality. But given the diversity and complexity of art traditions, we anticipate developing models that would be conceptually underdetermined so as to be context dependent. In other words, the particular cultural situation would determine the unique features of each model while all models would share some common features. The following common features have been identified in field research: 1. Concentration and purpose are the two essential dimensions of any artistic process. 2. Concentration occurs in the domain of work. It refers to the artist's ability to focus attention on the work at hand while keeping extraneous thoughts, images, and feelings in the margins of consciousness. 3. Concentration at work is conditioned by the artist's skills and knowledge and the immediate environment consisting of the workplace, tools, and materials; other factors are the well-being of the artist's family, group, village, or community. 4. The purposes of the artist are located in a domain of meanings. These meanings are grounded in the artist's lived experiences whose structure is given by tradition. While specifically artistic purposes involve the completion of tasks or the solution of problems by means of a range of artistic processes, more general purposes include earning a living and the maintenance of personal identity or group solidarity. 5. An art tradition survives only when new apprentices continue to find meaning in learning from the masters of that tradition. What has emerged from our field experience is a working hypothesis for ISALTA. Simply put, it is as follows: Selected living traditions in art can be facilitated, nurtured. and advanced by modifying in culturally appropriate ways the educational. economic. social. and political contexts within which masters and their apprentices work.

THE ARTIST AS RESEARCHER: THE ROLE OF THE ARTIST IN ADVANCING LIVING TRADITIONS IN ART

David W. Ecker

The subject of my presentation is the artist as researcher. Specifically, I want to argue that artist-researchers have an important role to play in advancing living traditions in art around the world. I shall also argue that the matter is urgent because many traditional arts are dying or are already lost. However, you should ask for my credentials before allowing me to present my case. I was trained as an artist, as an art teacher, and as a researcher in art and art education. And for the last twenty years I have taught at New York University in the Department of Art and Art Education. But as you will soon discover, it is my students who have taught me what I know about the arts of many lands and many cultures. While these students come to New York University to learn how to become artists and art educators in the modern world, many of them return to their places of origin with a reawakened consciousness of their own art traditions, a strengthened sense of purpose, and a deeply felt need for cultural renewal. What they have accomplished through their field research has inspired me to create the International Society for the Advancement of Living Traditions in Art (ISALTA). The purpose of this organization is to coordinate our worldwide research efforts by sharing our documentation of those skills and performances and artistic processes that are endangered.

My own field research as an artist-blacksmith has led me several times to India in the attempt to rediscover the long-lost art of making and forging Indian-Damascus steel. The creative, critical, theoretical, and historical research that my colleagues and I conducted in India, Germany, and the United States over many years was presented in an international symposium held at New York University in June of 1985. The theme of this symposium was The Damascus Blade: Legends and Realities. With Dr. G. N. Pant of the National Museum of New Delhi as co-chairman, we had twenty-one bladesmiths, arms and armor specialists, and metallurgists assembled to discuss advances in the bladesmith's art. But it is the research of my present and former students that I wish to emphasize here. The traditional arts they are documenting range geographically from those practiced not very far from New York University to arts found on the opposite side of the globe. Before discussing their work, however, I would like to state what I believe some of the issues are worldwide.

Some of us are committed to doing what we can to assist the survivors of the industrial disaster in Bhopal, India. This disaster was the result of a poisonous gas explosion on December 2nd, 1984, at the Union Carbide pesticide factory. In drafting our proposal to help the victims we were necessarily forced to think about cultural survival in socio-economic terms as well as in the context of artistic and aesthetic values. We began to see that these dimensions are inextricably linked.

An industrial disaster in a third-world country may cause an immediate and dramatic medical, economic or ecological crisis. An industrial disaster can also make visible a latent cultural crisis. But whether the situation is perceived as a cultural crisis is very much dependent on whether one is a member of the affected culture or outside that culture. The fact remains, however, that many of the world's traditional arts are either on the verge of extinction or becoming rapidly industrialized. While the impact of technology was felt in Europe and America in the last century, it is now being absorbed by the societies of developing countries. And many of the basic questions and choices remain the same: manual skills versus mechanical skills, loosely organized artisans versus disciplined and bureaucratized workers, work as creative praxis versus work as division of labour for mass production. Historically, aesthetic quality tends to fade with the introduction of interchangeable parts; artistic decline accompanies the loss of cultural identity. The felt need to preserve the meanings of a tradition in modern life is directly proportional to the loss of spiritual and material well-being of the artists and artisans sustaining an indigenous culture.

Industrialization has brought employment and economic prosperity to many nations; yet it has also depleted natural resources, degraded the environment, and produced large-scale industrial accidents. In this context, art traditions have come to exist in an uneasy relationship with the forces of technology and industrialization. Economic and industrial policies in developing countries, informed by orthodox Western economic theories, largely focus on the technological aspects of industrialization. At best they exhibit a benign neglect of art traditions. Living traditions in art rarely receive attention in these economic models of development. Consequently, the practice of traditional arts is becoming progressively more unfeasible in conventional socio-economic terms. When massive rehabilitation and economic reconstruction are required, as in the present situation in Bhopal, India, what happens to the indigenous culture -- the artisans, their extended families, and the business infrastructure supported by their production - may well be determined by the model or models employed.

The mission of the International Society for the Advancement of Living Traditions in Art is obvious. But my colleague, Paul Shrivastava, Professor of Management at New York University, and I have created a second non-profit organization, the Industrial Crisis Institute, whose objective is to study and develop positive responses to the problems created by industrial crises. Our first response, as I have already reported, was the international symposium on the bladesmith's art. Our second formal event was an international conference on Industrial Crisis Management held in September of 1986, also at New York University. Between these two events we have been shuttling between New York and India and elsewhere on various missions connected with our organizations. I would like now to share with you a more detailed account of our activities in relation to the Bhopal disaster to give an understanding of why our proposal took the shape and substance that it did.

In our discussions with Indira Gandhi, Arjun Singh, then Chief Minister of the State of Madhya Pradesh, Askhok Vajpeyi, his Minister of Education and Culture, and Mr. Swaminathan, Director of the new Museum of Art in Bhopal, one idea explored was the possible collaboration between the museum and ISALTA in the form of a research center. But perhaps the most important outcome of these visits to India was a clearer notion of what was required to support selected traditional arts worldwide. We realized that we needed socioeconomic models derived from elements drawn from the culture of a region and responsive to its special needs and values. Thus, art viewed as entertainment, as a measure of social status, or as an investment by the New York artworld would seem to require a capitalistic model featuring supply and demand, private ownership, and so on. Contrast this view of art as commodity with traditional views of art as sacred and secular performances of making and doing that reinforce continuity and solidarity in the group. Clearly, a range of socio-economic models is required if we are to avoid a kind of cultural imperialism.

We would argue that much the same analysis of the problems of industrial crisis management is required. Western solutions to the world's misery, suffering, and destruction have tended in the twentieth century to be "technological and humanistic", whereas earlier they tended to be religious or political solutions. In the name of science, human nature, or God, the assumption underlying these solutions is that they are culture free and have universal or transcendental efficacy. In contrast, we believe that the very meaning of "doing good for others" is culture-bound, as is the word "art" and the phrase "industrial crisis management" itself. More than "sensitivity" and "moral concern" are needed. Cultural crises, whether caused by natural or man-made catastrophes, from outside or within a particular culture, must be resolved on the terms set by the affected culture.

Our immediate interest is in the cultural rehabilitation of the victims of the Bhopal disaster. The first step, we believe, is to identify the socio-economic problems directly related to the deaths of some 2,000 people, the disablement of perhaps 30,000 others, and the permanent closing of the Union Carbide plant with the direct loss of 650 jobs. Western solutions to these problems are available. One analyst on Wall Street has projected the figure of 500,000 rupies -- or about 40,000 dollars - as the total compensation that will be dispensed to the survivors of each victim who died. But whatever the amount of compensation anyone may eventually receive, new occupational opportunities must be provided. In the case of labourers out of work this means re-training; in the case of displaced artisans the traditional arts and crafts in the region must be strengthened and expanded. According to D.N. Saraf, in his book Indian Crafts: Development and PotentiaL handprinting is one of the most important crafts of Madhya Pradesh, employing nearly 10,000 workers. "Nandana prints are. traditional prints in fast colours, that were earlier used by villagers and tribals of the Nimar area, but are now being used as bed-spreads, table cloths, upholstery and garments." Bhopal is named as one of the twelve important printing centers in the state. Other important crafts produced in Madhya Pradesh include objects made of bell metal, stone ware, woodwork including carved figures of gods and goddesses, door carvings, and furniture, papier-mache and leather toys and dolls, carpets, glass beads, bamboo, terracotta, and saris.

It should be mentioned here that efforts by the Indian government to preserve and advance its arts could well be followed by other developing countries in the Third World. In a private discussion with Indira Gandhi, the {then} Prime Minister provided several anecdotes exemplifying this historical struggle. She cited the British exploitation of the people who lived in the region now within Bangladesh. She wondered aloud whether the British actually cut off the thumbs of local weavers to suppress indigenous production in order to dominate the market, apparently suggested in a recent play in Delhi. She referred to Mahatma Gandhi's practical as well as symbolic emphasis on home-spun c~oth-making as central to the independence movement. She also mentioned the precipitous decline in the artistic quality of Indian cast brass artifacts following efforts to speed up production to meet economic competition on the international market. Another example she gave was embroidery. Originating as an art of personal adornment, the commercialization of this traditional art required increased production for greater profit with a subsequent degradation of the art. The Prime Minister emphasized the significance of the India Festival to be held in the United States beginning in 1985. But back in 1952 the All India Handicrafts Board was set up to document existing skills, to revive classical patterns, and to promote and market products.

Undoubtedly, we have much to learn regarding how governmental and institutional support affects the traditional arts, and field research in India would surely yield valuable information upon which to base cultural policy. But we have also been deeply impressed with the relative immobility of governments - not to mention multinational corporations and other large institutions -- to respond to the current crisis in Bhopal. Given our firsthand assessment of the situation there, we wonder whether many of the survivors will receive any compensation. Beyond the documentation of the Bhopal disaster (to be published in book form this year) we propose, first, that a survey of living- traditions in art be conducted in the Bhopal region to determine prospects for re-training and enhancement of opportunities for artisans and their supporting distribution and marketing personnel. This survey might be carried out by the artisans themselves under the supervision of ISALTA-India. Second, that an international gallery be established in New York City to provide visibility for the finest traditional arts of India and other countries with the profits on sales of the initial exhibition going into a Bhopal artisan's relief fund. Third, that a computer-based stora-e and retrieval system be set up to provide direct access by anyone to information provided by surveys of the arts of India and worldwide. This new system of words and images would serve both as an Encyclopedia of Living Traditions in Art and as a catalogue of artworks and art processes to promote the artists and artisans themselves through direct commissions and other means of support.

Our proposed survey of artisans in their social, economic, and cultural contexts is conceived as providing more than information on the present situation in the region. The survey would also seek imaginative projections of what could be the case: and philosophic, political, moral and aesthetic judgments about what should be the case with regard to the traditional arts. Depending upon which of these three functions the completed survey is asked to serve, the relevant data would be subject to quite different kinds of evaluation. For example, any claim about what is now the situation regarding textile workers can only be verified by further empirical inquiry; any projection about what could be the case, a product of the imagination, is to be checked against the anticipated constraints and opportunities of the future situation; and any proposal for what ought to happen is properly subject to philosophical, political, moral and aesthetic evaluations. Hence the speculative and normative activities of all participants in the survey as well as their actual accomplishments are to be assessed. Since perceptions are related to imaginative projects and judgments of all those surveyed, the likelihood of concerted action is a reasonable expectation.

The kinds of information gathered by the survey would not only provide a knowledgebase for practical decisions, but the data might also suggest the dimensions of an appropriate socio-economic model for long-term planning. For example, the arts traditions in a particular region may have their own special and perhaps unique relationship to the social, political, and cultural life of the community. Questions designed to determine what is, what could be, and what should be the case with regard to these relationships appear in Line Six of the Matrix of survey questions on the status of traditional arts. See Table One.

Identification of the unique dimensions of each model will depend upon surveys such as we have proposed. But enough has been learned about the general situation around the world to identify some common elements. My students come from many cultural backgrounds. And in my course Living Traditions in Art some of them for the first time see the importance -- indeed the moral obligation -- of documenting or extending by their own creative work a traditional art of their community, region, or country. If I merely name their topics you will have some idea of the range of inquiry: Safwat Nourel-Din on the problem of creativity and tradition in Kuwaiti ceramics; Insaf Fraih on Bedouin embroidery in Jordan; Arlene Lederman on Afghan crafts; Adel El Saghir on abstraction in Islamic art; Pairoj Jaimuni on modern Thai painting; Vivian Gottheim on Bomba Mei BuL ritual performance in Brazil; Elizabeth Henshaw on Nigerian art education policy; Chew Teng Beng on paper-making and paper art in Malaysia; Moses Fowowe on village potters of Nigeria; Cynthia Johnson on American Windsor chairmakers; Robert Spellman on the Black aesthetic; Patricia Wilson-Cryer on Puerto Rican painters in New York City; Maria Somoza on printmakers in Puerto Rico. No industrial crisis has yet been investigated to determine its impact on a traditional art, as far as I know. Yet each of these studies named tells a story of cultural crisis and cultural survival, often in the face of the rapid industrialization and technological progress that created the crisis.

Models may be thought of as conceptual tools for understanding reality. But given the diversity and complexity of art traditions, we anticipate developing models that would be conceptually underdetermined so as to be context dependent. In other words, the particular cultural situation would determine the unique features of each model while all models would share some common features. The following common features have been identified in field research:

1. Concentration and purpose are the two essential dimensions of any artistic process.

2. Concentration occurs in the domain of work. It refers to the artist's ability to focus attention on the work at hand while keeping extraneous thoughts, images, and feelings in the margins of consciousness.

3. Concentration at work is conditioned by the artist's skills and knowledge and the immediate environment consisting of the workplace, tools, and materials; other factors are the well-being of the artist's family, group, village, or community.

4. The purposes of the artist are located in a domain of meanings. These meanings are grounded in the artist's lived experiences whose structure is given by tradition. While specifically artistic purposes involve the completion of tasks or the solution of problems by means of a range of artistic processes, more general purposes include earning a living and the maintenance of personal identity or group solidarity.

5. An art tradition survives only when new apprentices continue to find meaning in learning from the masters of that tradition.

What has emerged from our field experience is a working hypothesis for ISALTA.

Simply put, it is as follows: Selected living traditions in art can be facilitated, nurtured. and advanced by modifying in culturally appropriate ways the educational. economic. social. and political contexts within which masters and their apprentices work.