If a lion could speak
Steven S. Powers

The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein famously posited the following, “If a lion could speak, we could not understand him.”

For most of the modern era this concept has pervasively guided the critique of historical ethnographic and tribal arts. In that it is said that the Western concept of art cannot be applied to other, more ‘primitive’ cultures, because they did not share the same language or definition of art, that they had a different construct or were playing a different game entirely—as if one were trying to apply the rules of baseball to making a loaf of bread. Thus ethnographic and tribal arts are often judged differently—either they are given a pass because of their ‘primitive sensibilities’ or are overrated for the same reason.

Though the practice of craft—its motives, goals, and even peer analysis may vastly differ or not even comparatively apply from one culture to the other- something happens in every reach of the globe, throughout every stage in the human timeline—a product, an artificial build beyond utilitarian purpose is crafted by human hands. Art is universal and though they may not have had the same definition or defined it at all, what the Woodlands people were creating for centuries before the arrival of European settlers was indeed art. If art is a human concept that aims to make more beautiful its communication efforts, its language, its tools and devices, then what they created was art. For the Woodlands people, or for that matter what all world cultures have done over time is to construct basic communication tools and implements and then embellish them. Inherently as humans, we strive to make things better, simpler, more aesthetically efficient—if this were not so, or if it were an isolated cultural concept, this art phenomena would not occur in every corner of this earth. Though each culture may define art differently or not at all—ultimately, “a rose is a rose is a rose,” or a ladle is a spoon is a scoop.

Some of the earliest recorded artifacts of the Woodlands cultures are bowls, pipes and spears. In reductionist terminology, these represent food technology, social communication and ceremonial worship. Objects and implements for these basic functions, once perfected beyond utilitarian purposes were crafted competitively to express complex belief systems and/or to be made more artful. Unaware of other worlds, the Woodlands people refined and further developed these crafts over thousands of years. When the Europeans arrived along the Eastern Seaboard of North America, the Woodlands mastery and ingenuity of these art forms were well matured and did not go unnoticed. The English artist, come ethno-historian, John White, who in 1585 during his time in Virginia and its surroundings, sketched the Algonquians with wampum-beaded adornments, feathers and elaborate body tattoos. Thomas Morton observed that the natives of Massachusetts “have dainty wooden bowles of maple, of highe price amongst them,” (New English Canaan, 1637).

Antoine Denis Raudot added, “...the men make dishes of knots of wood and spoons on which they carve the figure of some animal...”
(Memoir Concerning The Different Indian Nations of North America, 1709).
The carver’s success and proficiency in these fields were sources of personal and cultural pride. Their creations were gifted, valued and traded within their own tribes, between tribes and European settlers, passed their down from generation to generation and often buried with their dead. The objects were communication devices that conveyed history, legends and cultural beliefs then as they do now. Talented as they were, however, the carver’s would not have been successful message makers if they just conveyed static information or further cherished if they were not artfully executed. Their messages succeeded and continue to live on long after their creation because their messages were artistically conveyed.

Of the many collections of Native American art that have been formed, most have concentrated on color and more/less flat design. Though the Woodlands cultures succeeded within these parameters, it is small scale, personal sculpture where they really exceled. The Steven Michaan Collection is focused on this sculpture rather than personal adornments.

When making crafts, utilitarian needs are first met and as proficiency in manufacture is attained, art is created upon these utilitarian forms to either increase the efficiency of the form, to add communication devices or to simply make it more beautiful. Much of the personal sculpture seen in this collection is incidentally focused on the utility of food technology.

The Woodlands people were hunter/gathers and largely an agrarian culture. Their crop staples were corn, beans and squashes or “the three sisters’ as they were so called. As the anthropologist Frank Boas famously wrote that as the Eskimo had hundreds of words for “snow,” so it might be for the Iroquois and Algonquians of “corn.” The Woodlands people gave thanks for this staple each year, in late summer during the Green Corn Ceremonies. This annual ceremony or festival tied in with the ripening of the corn harvest and lasted from a few to several days. Fasting, spiritual renewal, dancing and then feasting were all part of the rituals. In addition, the Woodlands diet relied on wild rice, berries, roots, maple syrup, vegetable and animal fats, fish, fowl and other meat. Most of their foodstuffs were mashed, mixed and macerated. This required large vessels for gathering, chopping and grinding—baskets, bowls and mortars. The baskets were made from wood splints and the bowls were hewn from hardwoods and burls. Wooden spoons or ladles were made for eating their mainly mush and stew based meals. The Woodlands people produced master carvers as a result of this basic utility.

WOODLANDS BOWLS
“Once I was fortunate enough to see the Indian food and sugar bowls growing in a state of nature. These were sickly, semicircular excrescences on a maple-tree, about a foot in diameter. These excrescences, which are also found on other trees, are externally as perfectly round as a half a bomb-shell. The Indians cut them from the trees, scoop them out, and they employ these lusus naturæ as soup-plates."
—Johann Georg Kohl,
Circa 1855, Kitchi-gami: Wanderings Around Lake Superior

“Before any formal aspects of these objects may be effectively discussed, a single underlying concept must be recognized...wood is sacred.” Gaylord Torrence wrote in Art of the Red Earth People: The Mesquakie of Iowa, 1989. Robert Hobbs continued from the same, “They regard trees, for example, as their grandparents. And bowls are formed of burls, which appear on tree trunks in enlarged growths that resemble the swelling caused by a human fetus. Since a tree’s swelling burl is a metaphor for fecundity, these bowls serve also as an image of hope in the sacred feasts where they are used.” Though Torrence and Hobbs referred specifically to the Mesquakie of the Sauk and Fox, these thoughts can also be applied to the beliefs of all Woodlands people.

The Woodlands artisans were master bowl makers. It was a craft that became an art form centuries before first contact. It can be theorized that soon after they learned the rudiments of hewing a bowl and perfecting that craft, it was not long before they began to critically examine form, proportion, design and execution—making it an art. Sculptural bowls were not only reserved for effigy bowls, their vessels for everyday food preparation, serving and individual use, were often remarkable works masterfully conceived and thoughtfully executed in hardwood burls (ash, elm and maple). Their understanding of form following function led them to ingenious and refined designs. They appreciated surface and the complexity that use and age lent to these vessels and their objects were passed down from generation to generation—for wood was sacred.

Wooden carved effigy bowls are important and profound carvings of the Woodlands culture. Their marriage of utilitarian form with ceremony is arguably unsurpassed by any culture. The carvings are intimate and understated, yet powerful and bold without any contrivance. The carved effigies exude tremendous confidence and potential energy.

Effigy bowls were not common utilitarian receptacles for food service—they were reserved for ceremonial feasts or medicine rituals. They were created with such thought and purpose that today we can understand just a fraction of their original import.

A breakthrough in their understanding was made in the 1980’s by Evan
M. Maurer, then the Director of the University of Michigan Museum of Art, when he first recognized the integral relationships between the abstracted rim decorations on 17th -19th century Great Lakes wooden bowls and the representational images of anthropomorphic Manitou torsos and heads on earlier Ancient Woodlands - Mississippian period ceramic bowls (see Maurer, “Representational and Symbolic Forms in Great Lakes-Area Wooden Sculpture, Great Lakes Indian Art,” 1989). I furthered this study and understanding in “North American Burl Treen: Colonial & Native American” (Powers, 2005) and through an article, “The Evolution of the Water Manitou as Seen Through Its Presence in Woodlands Bowls & Ladles” (Powers, Good Wood, vol. I, 2008) which traces certain abstracted forms and devices representative of a Woodlands Manitou.


WOODLANDS LADLES & PIPES

“The end of the [ladles] handle is often surmounted with the figure of an animal or bird....These figures were often carved with surpassing skill, the proportions, and attitude of the animal being accurately preserved and studied.” — Lewis Henry Morgan, 1851
Effigy ladles were meaningful, personal objects. At every meal a Woodlands native brought with them a personal eating ladle and bowl. Effigies were often totemistic of one’s clan - e.g. bear, wolf, turtle, etc. Or one may consult and discuss a series of dreams or visions one had with a medicine man and construct a design and choose the type of wood that would best convey the concept. They would be finely carved and perform as both utilitarian objects and sculptural platforms for personal expression.
Consistent with the Woodlands aesthetic, effigy carvings on ladles attempt to capture the essence of a subject. Thus effigies can sometimes be difficult to determine—the carver may have focused on or abstracted and reduced the carving to a particular detail of an animal or being (e.g. an eye or the general architecture of a body). These Woodlands carvers understood that in art it is more difficult to edit, to take away from a subject and still have it retain its essence than to leave it all in—however, they realized the end result was often more perspicuous and powerful.

Though there appears to be no limit to the variety of forms based on animals, humans and mythological beings, overwhelmingly, the perched bird is the most common subject found on effigy ladles. Others include the beaver, otter, bear, wolf, panther, turtle, pig, Manitou, and other mythological creatures. Human effigy ladles are quite scarce and tend to be early within the historic period. Though many ladles may appear to be non-representational, it is likely that these abstracted ladles are reductionist interpretations of a common subject, and without the aid of other more representational examples, it is extremely difficult to figure out the more reductive or abstracted specimens.
Pipes, compared to ladles, appear more regularly in the archeological record (likely due to their stone and ceramic mediums, compact and less vulnerable forms). Like ladles, the crafting of pipes evolved over centuries and is an integral part of the Woodlands cultural identity. Tobacco was a sacred plant and used more ritualistically than habitually. It was smoked communally in sacred ceremonies and in negotiations to seal a deal (analogous to a hand shake). The effigies on pipes are typically less reductive, though often incorporate similar subjects, such as animals and regional mythologies.

WOODLANDS WARRIORS
Likely coinciding with (if not far behind) the development of the arrow-headed spear for hunting food animals; it was also adapted to the task of killing fellow human beings. Well-crafted pointed rocks and well-balanced heavy and blunt clubs were made expressly as killing machines. The ball-club is a compact weapon made from a hardwood and/or stone and is an efficient and effective instrument for close combat. Examples are seen globally. The Woodlands people selected choice root specimens and burls that naturally grew in the architecture of these weapons. As the utilitarian form was perfected, surfaces were inscribed with pictographs recording battles and accomplishments in war. Often the overall form was carved to incorporate an effigy of a mythological creature or warrior, which served to empower the combatant. Boys from an early age were taught games that help practice and perfect battle techniques and strategy.
When a boy became a man and saw his first battle, it was a day of individual and family pride. He would record his accomplishments on his personal
 war club. Well decorated and battle worn clubs were held in high esteem and became status symbols within the tribe and were noted by others. War clubs were pridefully displayed in dances and ceremonies—some were made expressly for these dances and others for important rituals that were part of bundles that shaman kept and were passed down through generations.

CONCLUSION
If one phrase can sum up the Woodlands aesthetic, it is “less is more.” Although the phrase is overused, it captures the overarching artistic ten-ant formed over thousands of years and generations of refinement. The Peoples aim to capture and reveal the essence of a subject—both sophisticated and sublime. It clarifies the message without superfluous detail and invites contemplation. It frees the artist to explore form, texture, proportion and detail without fraught for physical accuracy.
The artistic vernacular of the Woodlands people was tied directly to its language, history, mythology and customs. Over time, as the Woodlands people assimilated or were forced from their lands, their artistic language was irrevocably disrupted. Traditional crafts carried on, but more in the light of carrying the torch, versus something that was integral to their way of life.

Brooklyn, 2013