Aren’t we always, indeed, witnesses to artefact, to the muffled discourse of the inanimate, to the irresonant world of vestige? Aren’t we always, in fact, called to testify for those who can’t?

—Gustaf Sobin, Luminous Debris: Reflecting on Vestige in Provence and Languedoc

Between Craft and Art, Between Them and Us

Implicit in any conversation about craft is the feeling – most often left as just that, an unarticulated sense, felt but not spoken – that we could be talking about art; any conversation about craft is shadowed by a possible conversation about things usually asked of an art object: what is its function, its meaning, its worth? This problematic shadowing of craft by art has been the subject of considerable philosophic debate and, to some extent, continues to be a sensitive issue within the arts and craft communities, but is itself shadowed by the chimera of the economic.

This shadowing might mean that craft and art both represent not only the artefact that their various activities produces but also particular kinds of economies. Describing those economies no doubt requires historical analysis to identify their natures, and assessing the artefacts’ aesthetic qualities would be only one outcome of that kind of analysis.

In general, art is concerned with the rarified artefact, whereas craft is concerned with the production of objects. Of course, this kind of distinction no longer always holds true, as today craftspeople often make highly refined and expensive artefacts, and some artists make ‘multiples’ – sometimes using industrial processes, sometimes handcrafting – to make objects that may be unrefined and, without the art context, ‘worthless’. But to further complicate this schema, so as to resemble the reality of our contemporary economic situation, we must ask ourselves whether or not the tension between craft and art – what may be characterised as an economic tension – is actually a manifestation, a microcosm, of broader economic circumstances. Could not the distinction between craft and art depend on the distinction made between the production of a unique object – art – and the production of a reproducible unit – craft?

It is clear – without needing to repeat the longstanding theoretical discussion of this issue – that the distinction between the two would then be an economic one, that it concerns the means of production. So the distinction not only allows us to distinguish between two kind of activities and products, it also allows us to distinguish between two kinds of economies: the economy of the singular – art – and the economy of the plural – craft.

But what does this kind of economic understanding of the craft and art marketplaces have to offer craftspeople, particularly craftspeople who wish to contemplate their (possible) role as mediators between Western and traditional cultures? Why should this seemingly unhelpful issue of the distinction between craft and art, between the economies of the plural and the singular, be of concern? Because the mediation between the Western craftsperson and a traditional culture is an interaction between these two economies.

Communities or Economies?

The word ‘community’ is often invoked in descriptions of these kinds of interaction, the Western craftsperson being regarded as the bridge between the mainstream, Western community on the one hand and the traditional, indigenous community on the other. This emphasis on the notion of community – and therefore on the Western craftsperson or arts advisor or community administrator as a mediator between the two communities – tends to elide the fact that the Westerner is actually acting as an intermediary between two economies, the Western ‘money’ economy and the economy of the traditional community, which is generally cash-poor but ‘culturally rich’.

It is easy to understand the anxiety that might be aroused by such a description, a fear for Westerners of being seen as exploiting traditional culture. Yet Western craftspeople are well placed to articulate and develop this role of mediation between economies for ‘the greater good’ – to use an expression that has barely survived political usage – that is, for the good of the communities concerned and even, perhaps, for the good of an imaginary community such as the nation. But for Western craftspeople to act effectively as intermediaries between these economies, they need to be aware of the economics of their own position and, consequently, its ethical implications.

Ethics: The Economic, the Aesthetic and the Crafts Industry

Those ethical implications are of two kinds: economic and aesthetic. The ethics of the economic relevant to these kinds of cross-cultural circumstances concern the power that a Western craftsperson can exercise in effecting or controlling finances related to the traditional community.

Usually the Western craftsperson’s role extends beyond his or her function as an artistic peer. The Western craftsperson’s position as an intermediary between the cashed-up mainstream culture and the culture-rich, cash-poor traditional culture often means that the Western craftsperson’s sense of what is financially viable is brought to bear on the process of production and creation itself, as well as on the structure of the organisation in which the Westerner and the traditional craftspeople have been brought together.

The organisation’s structure, of course, depends on the expectations of those who have chosen to develop it. Without doubt, a successful economic outcome is the goal of many collaborations between Western craftspeople and organisations set up for or by traditional peoples. The influence of the Western craftsperson may be significant, however, even if not exercised on the structure of the organisation; minor suggestions about what materials are needed or how to structure a workshop, develop relationships or delegate responsibilities can have very powerful effects in a traditional community that has few resources at its disposal.

Beyond this, although still related to the question of the economic, is the aesthetic advice that the Western craftsperson gives to the community with which he or she works. The ethical implications of the aesthetic advice given by the Western craftsperson, whether it is implicit – a suggestion of how to improve a technique – or overt – the advice that certain kinds of work are unattractive to Western buyers and therefore uncommercial – are elusive and important concerns.

The ethics of aesthetic judgement are elusive, because it is difficult to assess the nature and value of aesthetic opinion. The ethics are crucially important because aesthetic interest in the products of traditional craftspeople is the reason for the Western craftsperson’s involvement in the traditional community in the first place, as well as the reason for the Western buyers’ desire to purchase the products. Acting as a translator of aesthetic values from one culture to another, the Western craftsperson is able to give insights into the relationship between the market value of craft objects and their beauty. This role is an essential part of managing the activity of a workshop.

However, the Western craftsperson need not influence the aesthetic of the traditional craftspeople solely through establishing a parallel between aesthetic value and commercial value. Quite often, through making craft objects that no longer perform conventional functions within the traditional community, the aesthetic of the objects is already transformed. The object’s clear symbolic function is very often eroded; objects that were once made to be used by those who made them are now being made to be looked at by people who have neither made them nor belong to the culture that produced them. The ethics of the aesthetic, then, must be concerned with the ‘trade-off’ between the advantages of craft production for the traditional community and the inevitable reduction of the object’s uniqueness or significance in the context of that community.

The Western craftsperson, being sympathetic to the demands of both the wider, outside culture and the traditional craftspeople, the custodians of traditional skills and knowledge, should be more aware than anyone else of the care required in making this trade-off. If the interaction is to be more than a form of exploitation in which the traditional craftspeople are labourers in an exotic, minor industry, and if the interaction is to be more than a form of social improvement in which the traditional peoples are forced to ‘mine’ their culture, the only resource that still belongs to them, then the Western craftsperson will have to be constantly weighing up the pros and cons of this trade-off.

Ultimately, the ethics of the aesthetic depend on whether or not an equilibrium is found between the aesthetic and cultural significance of the products for the traditional community and the aesthetic and commercial worth for the mainstream community. At present, the Western craftsperson is the figure best able to assist the traditional community in finding this balance.

The Western craftsperson who acts as a mediator between the mainstream community and a traditional community acts as an intermediary between two economies: the mainstream economy, in which the craft of traditional people is valued for its beauty and uniqueness; and the traditional community’s economy, which values the production of the same objects for their commercial, aesthetic or social significance, or perhaps, depending on the community, for a combination of all three. The craft object in the mainstream economy is a relatively scarce non-mass-produced object, whereas in the traditional community the object is not rare but something common that incidentally reflects the non-industrial nature of the culture. It is one thing to say that the Western craftsperson is in the traditional community to contribute their knowledge to the community and to learn from the traditional craftspeople: it is something else to say that those craftspeople share their knowledge and skills with the Western craftsperson, especially when the objects they produce enter the mainstream economy.

Just because the traditional craftspeople are labouring to create these objects does not necessarily mean they are ‘exploiting’ their own resources – their effort and their knowledge – solely to enable the community to gain income from the mainstream economy. They might be gaining skills or knowledge that would enable them to participate in the mainstream economy itself, and thereby possibly improve social circumstances for themselves and their community in ways other than craft activities.

But we should ask ourselves what the aim of this kind of mediation should be. Why is so much emphasis placed on the commercial development of traditional peoples’ crafts? Is developing a craft industry the aim of this kind of mediation? What is the symbolic meaning of having, as we do in Australia, a substantial traditional – that is Aboriginal – craft and art industry?

The Craft of ‘Others’

While these questions are obviously of great importance to Western craftspeople who work in cross-cultural contexts, they are of broader relevance because they make it apparent that indigenous craft objects perform a symbolic role in the mainstream of Western culture.

In settler countries like Australia, South Africa, Canada and some of the countries of Latin America, traditional craft functions as a sign of nationhood. Although in Europe or Africa craft also functions as a sign of ethnic and national identity, in the settler countries it is the craft of ‘others’, the traditional communities, the First Peoples, that is used as a sign of fraternity by the larger, imaginary community, the nation itself. The emphasis government policy places on cultural development in traditional communities in Australia – it may be different elsewhere, particularly in India – is at least in part because of an expectation that indigenous craft and its production can have an important place in consolidating national identity. This is ironic, given that the First Peoples were displaced by the forebears of those people who hold power and shape the nation in the so-called new countries.

If the development of traditional peoples’ craft is to be more than a form of ‘ethnic’ image-making, if it is to be more than simply social assistance and education, then it must be recognised that the existence and continuation of traditional peoples’ craft indicates – more clearly than the presence of their art, music or literature – the gap between two economies, between the small-scale, proto-industrial workshop economy of the traditional community and the large-scale, industrialised economy of the larger society.

The significance of traditional peoples’ craft today is that it is, paradoxically, a testament both to their identity as distinct ethnic groups and cultures separate from the mainstream Western economy and to their ability to integrate into that larger economy.

The Western craftsperson’s role as a mediating figure – whether as an arts advisor, student of traditional skills or translator of knowledge – must carry with it economic and ethical responsibilities that would allow the traditional community in which he or she works to come to appreciate the nature of their own resources and skills. The Western craftsperson’s role should facilitate the development of the traditional community, empowering the traditional craftspeople so that they are better able to bridge the gap between the two economies. Any mediation that aims for less than that would be unethical and uneconomic, and, I suspect, the craft it produced would be unaesthetic, too.