Conserving Cherokee Traditions

By Molly Moore

On the Qualla Boundary, the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians’ reservation, local resources have inspired arts traditions for generations. Today the community’s rich arts heritage is flourishing.

The town of Cherokee, N.C., positioned at the southern terminus of the Blue Ridge Parkway and bordering the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, was opened to the tourism economy with the birth of the national park in 1940.

“Early on, people began to realize that they could market traditional crafts as souvenirs to the tourists,” says Davy Arch, a Cherokee artist who works in traditional and contemporary forms. “People began to supplement their income by selling what they had been using on the farm.”

With the influx of visitors came a surge of entrepreneurs. At the time, the tribal levy — a business tax — was a main source of revenue for the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians. The revenue benefited the tribe as well as the artist, but soon outsider-owned businesses flooded the local market with mass-produced goods that promoted disparaging stereotypes drawn from “Cowboy-and-Indian” films.

In response, local artists banded together in 1946 to form the first Native American cooperative, Qualla Arts & Crafts Mutual, Inc. The organization currently has 300 artisan members, and their combined gallery and museum presents a wide variety of goods that blend traditional and contemporary elements.

“We want our artists to grow and try new ways to express themselves,” says Tonya Carroll, Outreach Coordinator at Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual. “We do want items that incorporate Native American culture but that can be open to interpretation.”

Basketry, mat-making and wood carvings are some of the best-selling items at Qualla Arts and Crafts, but member arts also include beadwork, stone carving, pottery, finger weaving, doll making, painting, drawing, crocheting, shell engraving, wood burning and metal jewelry.

An Economic and Cultural Lifeway

Davy Arch is known for fine wooden masks, but he also carves arrowheads that are available on the lower end of the price spectrum. His mother and grandmothers crafted beadwork, and he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a carving knife. In his lifetime of involvement in the Cherokee arts community, he’s seen the craft economy shift.

“People used to use the baskets to pick up potatoes and gather corn,” Arch says. “But now [traditional baskets] are high-end collectibles that can sell for thousands of dollars, so you’re not seeing a lot of people out in the potato patch picking up potatoes in their Cherokee baskets. The shift to marketing artwork as a high-end collectible is something that has controlled the way we market things and the product itself.”

The ability to command higher prices has helped these time- and skill-intensive arts survive, but competing with cheap imported goods remains a challenge. Recently, Cherokee artisans have received more support from tribal government and current businesses on the Qualla Boundary. The reservation’s casino is a reliable customer of the Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual and sells local crafts at casino and hotel gift shops.

“Tribal government is aware that most families have an artist in the family and have a tradition of artwork that links us directly to the past as a culture,” Arch says. “So it’s a concern of the politicians to ensure that there are opportunities for artists.”

The Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians’ Principal Chief Michell Hicks campaigned for Artist’s Row, an outdoor market area near Oconaluftee Islands Park where artists can sign up for space. An attempt by the Tribal Council to pass a resolution that would have required all craft shops on tribal land to sell a certain percentage of local artists’ work did not pass.

Resourceful Arts

Revitalization of traditional artwork has increased demand on the natural resources used in these crafts. To meet that need, the Cherokee Preservation Foundation, which is funded by the tribe’s gaming revenues, established the Revitalization of Traditional Cherokee Artisan Resources program to restore the traditional balance between maintaining and using vital resources.

“Land preservation is a wonderful thing but for us it’s preservation with a purpose,” says David Cozzo, project director for the program. “It’s a living act of management.”

River cane is one such resource. The Cherokee are known for their intricate double-weave baskets crafted from this member of the bamboo family, but not long ago the tribe was down to just two active basket makers. Thanks to a program at the local high school, there are now 15 teens who can make the signature art. But ensuring an adequate supply of river cane is as important to the craft’s survival as the teachers. Fostering river cane stands in the mountainous Qualla Boundary is difficult, particularly since much of the species’ former range has been taken over by agriculture and development.

To find suitable habitat for river cane introduction and management, the revitalization program works with outside groups such as the Land Trust for the Little Tennessee and the Watershed Association of the Tuckaseegee River. Land Trust for the Little Tennessee and Cozzo’s program are planning river cane restoration at Welch Farm, a tract of land that had been used for corn cultivation.

The resource revitalization program is also working on its first project with the U.S. Forest Service. If all goes well, South Carolina’s Sumter National Forest will house 29 acres of river cane, which would make it the largest actively managed cane site in the Southeast.

The butternut tree is another key species, since the bark produces a distinct dark dye. But a fungus has decimated the butternut population, and the tree’s survival is threatened. A partnership with high school students aims to help researchers find ways to select disease-hardy butternut for cultivation.

Organizations are also experimenting with growing white oak for basketry. But recreating traditional environments has its challenges. Because white oaks grown too quickly are too fibrous for weaving, Cherokee artisans prefer white oaks that grow slowly in laurel thickets with acidic soil. The Land Trust for the Little Tennessee, University of Tennessee and the tribe’s resource revitalization program are working to replicate that habitat on available land trust property. So far, the groups have seen mixed results, but recent plantings are still a few years away from harvest. “It takes eight to 10 years to test the idea,” Cozzo says.

Between the efforts of tribal government, schools and non-profit organizations, there is a network of economic and educational support behind traditional Cherokee crafts. With thoughtful management of natural arts resources, young hands will weave these venerable traditions into the future.

By Brian Sewell

Outside of Appalachia, artists who acknowledge their connection to coal have adopted the issue of mountaintop removal and taken to the road. The Beehive Collective’s True Cost of Coal illustration transforms ways of thinking as it travels by inviting all who see it into a web of stories.

The panoramic poster depicts the complex relationships between industry, commerce, society and the natural world that are inseparable from the fight to end mountaintop removal. The large form pen and ink image transitions from scenes of undisturbed wilderness to industrialized madness. Gradually, the characters, the diverse creatures of Appalachia, actively resist and, finally, take back and restore the land.

Beehive Collective, a Manchias, Maine-based collaborative artists’ group, is known for their expansive graphics. Depicting globalization, free trade and militarism, their works deconstruct some of the most debated issues of the time. But they also understand the power of using their graphics as educational tools and touring to accomplish their mission of “cross-pollinating the grassroots.”

“We do a lot of traveling and touring with the work we do and generating conversations and actions,” says Zeph Fishlyn, an illustrator and educator who has worked with the collective since 2007. “We’re also carrying ideas and stories that people tell us from one place to the next.”

After interviewing residents of Appalachian coalfield communities, the “Bees” collected stories and perspectives of the effects of mountaintop removal and how people are taking action. The challenge arises when they must craft a drawing to convey all the information in a creative and compelling way.

“That’s where we are crafting metaphors,” Fishlyn explains. One portion of the poster depicts the story of land grab perpetrated by the fossil fuel industry. It’s shown by a railroad unrolling itself across the landscape, intruding on homes and farmsteads and causing animals to scurry away seeking protection.

There are hundreds of distilled but profound visual metaphors hiding in The True Cost of Coal – a testament to its power as an education tool.

With the True Cost of Coal, the collective’s outreach and education efforts have taken off. The poster and presentation are the most in-demand of any of the collective’s projects. Since the poster was printed in June 2010, the group has distributed more than 15,000 copies and given almost 600 presentations.

“The story of mountaintop removal coal mining is resonating with people,” says Emma Hornback, a founding member and full-time “Bee.” “Our allies have told us: ‘We know this story. It’s useful for us to have this but you need to get this message out to other people.’”

Fishlyn and Hornback have worked on every phase of the True Cost of Coal project since the project began in 2008, from planning research trips and speaking with residents in Appalachia to illustrating and touring throughout the Americas with the poster.

The main theme in the work, resource extraction, resonates with people everywhere. Touring the gulf coast, the collective used the graphic to engage those dealing with the aftermath of the BP oil spill.

“If you were to change the characters from Appalachian songbirds to crawdads and alligators this could be their story,” Hornback says. “If you change the bad guy from coal to oil, the story is almost the same.”

Sharing their work is as much a priority as creating the graphic itself, and the “Bees” have been busy. In the past year, 25 people have toured with the poster, counting stops in Montana and the Dakotas among other stops. Invitations pour in requesting presentations in

Northern Arizona, where locals struggle against Peabody Coal Company on the Navajo reservation. Other presenters recently returned from Alberta, Canada, the epicenter of the heated tar sands debate. They’ve even taken the poster to Bogota, Colombia where a “Bee” and Colombia native used the graphic to discuss coal mining in South America.

“People have learned about mountaintop removal through the graphic,” Hornback says. “A lot of folks associate the two things and point to it as a pivotal moment in their understanding of climate issues and coal issues in particular.”