Morbilidad y calidad de vida tras la cirugía radical de próstata 6

Figure 1: New Zealand Listener article by Peter Gibbs2

At the Annual General Meeting of the Crafts Council of New Zealand (CCNZ) held in Christchurch in 1988, the Executive was given a mandate to

investigate different membership structures as a means of reinvigorating an organisation that many felt no longer truly represented New Zealand

1

Peter Gibbs, 'Hobbyists Hold Key', New Zealand Listener, 4 March 1989, p.33. 2

craftspeople. The events that led to this initiative are examined in more detail

later in this chapter, but the title, ‘Hobbyists hold key’ in the New Zealand Listener article written by Peter Gibbs demonstrated the importance of hobbyists to the studio craft movement and the consequences for the crafts when the professionals tried to distance themselves from the amateurs. The separation between amateurs and professionals had been a feature of the studio craft movement since the 1950s and was usually measured by the economic success of craftspeople; but it rarely caused dissention – one either earned a living from craft or one did not. By the early 1990s however, the degree to which craft was considered art as discussed in Chapter Two had added a dimension that made the defining of professionalism much more difficult. Within four years of the 1988 meeting CCNZ had gone into liquidation, in part precipitated by its alienation of the vast majority of craftspeople in New Zealand – the amateurs, but also by the divisions that had developed between different types of professionals.

Janet Wolff, a sociologist with an interest in the arts, held similar ideas to Pierre Bourdieu and noted ‘the interdependence of access to culture with

economic and political position[s].’3

This chapter examines the relationship between those involved in craft at the amateur level and craft professionals. It sets out to determine how the economic definition of professionalism became entangled with social, political and cultural issues and how disputes between amateurs and different groupings of professionals became

confused and, as in the case of the CCNZ, destructive. In doing so I also call on the thoughts of Pierre Bourdieu and expand the concept of symbolic violence to offer an explanation for the different positions amateurs and professionals held in the studio craft movement and to provide a framework for the arguments presented.

Symbolic violence ‘is the imposition of systems of symbolism and meaning (i.e. culture) upon groups ... in such a way that they are experienced as

3

legitimate’ – and legitimating.4 Within the studio craft movement some

craftspeople became ‘more professional’ than other craftspeople because

they held higher academic qualifications in the field or their work was more closely related to art than traditional craft. The economic capital that had at first encouraged the growth of the studio craft movement became less important when the movement matured. Social and cultural capital became more valuable.

Three themes guide the chapter but all are related to the central theme ‒

education. According to Bourdieu, education is one of the locations where powerful groups in society employ symbolic violence to impose their dominance. Bourdieu believed that class inequalities were not imposed on

the population by the education system, but were ‘achieved by what is tacitly presupposed by the teaching’ and for that to work the type of pedagogy employed had to ‘be accepted by all concerned as legitimate’.5 Throughout this chapter this principle is related to craft education. The first section considers the way education influenced the surge of interest in crafts after the Second World War and the manner in which craft education changed

from being taught at school as a means of stimulating children’s creativity to

education at the adult level after the commercial potential of craft was realised. The second theme considers the way in which amateurs and professionals ‒ or ‘real craftspeople’6as one writer described them ‒ were defined by their ability to sell work and how craftspeople adapted to a changing economic environment. It will also look at the way craftspeople promoted and sold their work. The chapter will consider how and where work was displayed and sold and how this assigned new meanings to the terms

‘amateur’ and ‘professional’. The third theme examines the hierarchical

relationship between amateurs and professionals that evolved as the

4

Richard Jenkins, Pierre Bourdieu, revised edn, London, 2002, p.104. 5

R. W. Connell, Which Way Is Up: Essays on Sex, Class and Culture, Sydney, 1983, p.146.

Connell’s italics.

6

In 1982 the CCNZ claimed that New Zealand had 45,000 people involved with the crafts, with 2000 of them earning a full-time income as self-employed craftspeople. The 2000 were described in an editorial in Craft New Zealand as the “real craftspeople”. See 'Press

Statement: Taxation on Crafts', New Zealand Crafts, July 1982, p.15. See also, Robin Gardner-Gee, 'A Practice Called Craft in a Country Called New Zealand: Readings of Craft New Zealand 1982 – 1993', MA thesis, University of Auckland, 1996, p.71.

politicisation of the craft movement increased. Bourdieu’s ideas on the relationship between social, cultural, symbolic and economic capital play an important explanatory role in this section. Here the rise and fall of the CCNZ features as an example of the way in which tensions increased between those who considered themselves craftspeople in the traditional sense and those who became involved in the widening interpretation of craftspeople as professionals, as individuals and craft organisations sought to have craft raised to higher social, political and cultural levels.

A Problem of Definition

Defining the terms ‘amateur’ and ‘professional’, as they were understood

during the time of the studio craft movement, is problematic. This is not a problem limited to the history of craft however; historians, across a number of

fields have wrestled with applying definitions to terms that ‘carry some sort of appraisal’.7_{At first, in the field of studio craft, an ‘amateur’ was someone who}

was involved purely for pleasure, without seeking a financial reward, while a

‘professional’ in the craft world was linked to the idea of professionalism in

the trades, which involved apprenticeships and membership of a trade organisation such as a guild or the ability to earn a livelihood from their craft.

‘Fulltime’ became something of a euphemism within the movement, implying that a ‘fulltime’ craftsperson was a professional. In this sense the CCNZ

defined professionals as those craftspeople who worked on their craft for over thirty hours a week,8 even though many craftspeople devoted long hours to their craft for a very small financial return. An added complication was the feeling amongst some craftspeople that professionalism was linked to the quality and type of work produced or that some craftwork was

associated with women – and so regarded as amateur – while other areas of

craft were ‘men’s work.’ Although gender is an important component of this

debate the issue is covered in more detail in Chapter Six where it is a central theme.

7

For a discussion on the difficulty of defining ‘amateurism’ in sport for instance, see Lincoln Allison, Amateurism in Sport: An Analysis and a Defence, Sport in the Global Society, No. 21., Portland, Oregon, 2001, pp.8-10.

8

Robin Gardner-Gee, in her study of Craft New Zealand, the voice-piece of the CCNZ, noted that the discourse in the magazine increasingly sought to

construct craft as ‘a highly skilled, creative but commercial business activity.’9

Furthermore, she observed, ‘the discourse of professionalism

construct[ed] craft as a prestigious occupation.’10

She divided the discourse on the professionalism into three distinct threads: excellence, marketing, and education.11 Within the craft movement these aspects of craft discourse formed a labyrinth of intertwining meanings that changed and evolved over time as the movement became stronger. Her model was prescribed by Pierre

Bourdieu’s notions of symbolic capital within different sections of the art community which indicated that status within the art world was not decided purely on economic criteria. In fact, as craftworks became more

sophisticated and craftspeople better educated in their field their social, cultural and symbolic capital increased and the means of gaining economic capital altered. Economic capital became less important as other forms of capital became more valuable to some craftspeople.

During the early period of the movement, between the late 1940s and mid- 1970s when functional objects were the domain of craftspeople and before craft artists gained a higher profile, very little distinction was made in exhibition reviews, or in the publications that craftspeople read, between hobbyists and professionals. None of the craftspeople who exhibited at the Helen Hitchings Gallery in 1949 were professionals in the economic sense for example, but neither would they have thought of themselves as purely amateur. Ernst Plischke, as noted in the previous chapter, was an architect who designed furniture that was made by a furniture manufacturer. He was more likely to have called himself a designer. A. R. D. Fairburn was a poet and art critic who probably earned more from his printed fabrics than his poetry. Len Castle, the potter, was a science teacher and Avis Higgs was a

9 Gardner-Gee, p.55. 10 ibid. 11 ibid., pp.56-69.

painter who made scarves to bolster her income.12 While these exhibitors may have referred to themselves as craftspeople they would have been

unlikely to apply the title ‘amateur’ or ‘professional’ as a prefix. Furthermore, there were very limited opportunities in New Zealand for craftspeople to earn their living solely from craft. As a reviewer of an exhibition at the New

Zealand Academy of Fine Arts in 1950 that included crafts noted, the two New Zealand potters exhibiting, both of whom had been trained in Britain,13 could not contemplate returning to New Zealand to pursue their craft.

Their work was admired and it was purchased. They loved being home, and with any prospect of being able to carry on their work they would probably have been glad to remain here. We can only hope that they will eventually return, but we must realise that the greater their further success overseas the less our chance of getting them back.14

Nine years later, economic professionalism for some craftspeople appeared to have been established. For instance, in 1956 the potter Mirek Smišek, who combined teaching craft and making pottery, claimed to be New

Zealand’s first professional studio potter, but the word still lacked definition.15 In an article in the New Zealand Potter, Mavis Jack appeared to suggest that

the title ‘studio potter’ inferred a professional status and established a

division between craftspeople based on how much they charged for their work. In a criticism of the prices charged by some potters she stated that:

‘The attitude of the studio potter is bound to be different from that of the

hobbyist but I hope in this article to show that potters who practically give their work away by undervaluing it are doing themselves a disservice.’16

Jack’s concerns reflected the growing realisation that some people could

12

Jane Vial, The Gallery of Helen Hitchings: From Fretful Sleeper to Art World Giant, Wellington, 2008.

13

The potters were William Newland and Kenneth Clark. Both became well-known within British craft circles.

14

A. Mallet, 'Craft at the Academy', Design Review, 3, 3, 1950, p.72. Kenneth Clark did return frequently but did not become a resident in New Zealand.

15

Vic Evans, 'Head, Heart and Hand: Studio Pottery in Nelson 1956 - 1976', MA thesis, Massey University, 2007, p.1. More recently the claim has been disputed by Moyra Elliott and Damian Skinner who have suggested that the women who made pottery between the

wars earned a living from their craft and were therefore New Zealand’s first independent

studio potters. See Moyra Elliott and Damian Skinner, Cone Ten Down: Studio Pottery in New Zealand, 1945 - 1980, Auckland, 2009, p.31. See also Moyra Elliott, email to the author, 22 August 2009 and the story of Elizabeth Lissaman in Chapter Six.

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earn a living from craft and, furthermore, that conflicts would arise when those who depended on their sales to live had to compete with those who essentially were concerned with only covering their costs.

By the 1980s many craftspeople were able to earn a living from their craft

and often used the term ‘full-time’ to define their professionalism. For

instance, a 1981 booklet about the history of crafts in South Wairarapa used this definition in two of the articles –‒ although confusion was evident here as well. James Greig, a potter and the author of an article on professional crafts in the booklet, had no hesitation in defining professionals as those who

‘are distinguished … by their full-time vocational commitment rather than by

standards’.17

But, confusingly, he noted that some hobbyists reached a professional level of skill and earned extra income from craft. Furthermore, he observed that the growth of interest in craft had created an ‘interesting

reversal’ of roles with, ‘the new professionals carrying on the tradition of the “amateurs” of an earlier age –“amateur” originally meant “lovers” of the craft.’18_{In the companion article on ‘Domestic Crafts’,}19

Robin Sanders explained that for these crafts:

Time is not a crucial factor; neither profitability; they do not

depend on public acceptance of their commodity … Their

motives are more private and altruistic. Theirs is an

ideology of goodwill and generosity, or “love” as some

called it, and it is, essentially, this characteristic that distinguishes these craftspeople from their more competitive, professional counterparts.20

Each author appeared to be aware of the content of the other’s article.

Sanders’ description of amateurs lifted them into a more rarefied domain and

Greig’s comment about the ‘interesting reversal’ appeared to be downplaying

the economic success that many craftspeople had experienced – perhaps to avoid having craft lumped in with small business or the trades. Both articles

17

Jim Greig, ‘Professional Crafts’, in Hands over Time: A History of Crafts in the South Wairarapa, Carterton, 1981, p.20.

18 ibid. 19

Amongst the crafts included in the article are knitting, sewing, crochet, tatting, tapestry and embroidery, along with canework, wooden toys, macramé, batik, screen printing, doll making and pottery – see Robin Sanders, ‘Domestic Crafts’, in ibid., p.32.

20

were an attempt to bring the two areas of craft closer together but the

difficulty in defining ‘amateur’ and ‘professional’ remained.

Figure 2: James Greig (1936 – 1986).21 Compulsory Education

The studio craft movement had one of its foundations in a section of the education system that emphasised creativity rather than entrepreneurship or

preparation for a career. Living as a ‘full-time’, ‘professional’ artist or craftsperson was not considered by most people to be a realistic career ambition. Nevertheless, the growing middle-class wished to have their children introduced to aspects of culture that they believed would enhance their position in society. As Bourdieu indicated, the middle-class were searching for the non-financial assets that involve educational, social, and intellectual knowledge that children who grow up in non-wealthy but highly- educated and intellectually-sophisticated families, possessed. A person’s position in society could not be judged purely on how much economic capital they accumulated or inherited. An introduction to the hidden codes of art through education had the potential to increase symbolic capital. Without

21

Photo: Howard Williams, 'James Greig: Master Potter', New Zealand Potter, 28, 3, 1986, p.2.

education, the codes employed by cultural producers (artists) would not be accessible to potential cultural consumers ‒ hence the incomprehensibility of some art to some observers.22 However, Bourdieu also suggested that the middle-class attempted to conceal aspects of education that portrayed an understanding of art as a learned response, thereby distinguishing between

those that knew the codes because of their social ‘habitus’ and those who

lacked ‘taste’. If craft was to be a branch of art, with the social and cultural

capital that implied, rather than an aspect of trade, the middle-class needed

to imbue it with codes that could only be acquired as a ‘gift’ through social

distinction.23 To achieve that, craft needed to be detached from function, but

it would take time to establish that division and create codes of ‘craft art’. At

first, craft in education swung back and forth between the trades and art.

Many of New Zealand’s first post-war craftspeople and craft consumers were exposed to some degree to the changes in art and craft education that began in the late 1930s. The changes did not have an immediate impact and the link between education, particularly primary education, and later life decisions is often not direct or linear. However, in her 1998 thesis on craft Grace Cochrane had no doubt that in Australia the connection between the Australian education system and later craft developments was clear ‒ and by implication a similar link probably existed in New Zealand.

Changing ideals and opportunities in education clearly affected the developing idea of studio crafts practice as a professional, personally rewarding way of life. Post-war education emphasised the development of the individual

as a “whole self” through creative experience.24

Certainly many New Zealand children educated in the late-1930s and 1940s had a less narrowly prescribed curriculum than their parents.25 The new education environment placed more emphasis on creativity and, as a consequence, there existed a more flexible attitude to the relationship

22

Derek Robbins, Bourdieu and Culture, London, 2000, p.120. 23

ibid. 24

Grace Cochrane, 'Truth or Trap: The Australian Contemporary Crafts Movement's Pursuit of Art Ideals', PhD thesis, University of Tasmania, 1998, p.54.

25

D. G. Ball and A. E. Campbell, 'Changing Role of the Inspectorate: A New Zealand View', The New Era, 36, November, 1955, p.189. See also Ian Cumming and Alan Cumming, History of State Education in New Zealand, 1840-1975, Wellington, 1978, p.273.

between leisure activities and career decisions – the idea that one could make a living from the creative arts was not totally rejected ‒ but would still have been considered unlikely. Nevertheless, changing economic conditions meant that many of the children educated through this period and into the 1950s had a better chance of imagining careers that would have been unavailable to their parents.

During the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s three key factors influenced the way