^^SOJVIAN 4^fc, 3 SmithsonianCenter for Folklife ami Cultural Heritage750 9th Street NW Suite 4100Washington, DC 20560-0953 www.folklife.si.edu ? 2001 by the Smithsonian InstitutionISSN 1056-6805 EDITOR: Carla M. BordenASSOCIATE EDITOR: Peter SeitelDIRECTOR OF DESIGN: Kristen FemekesGRAPHIC DESIGNER: Caroline BrownellDESIGN ASSISTANT: Michael Bartek Cover image: Gombeys are the masked dancers of Bermuda. Art from photo courtesy the Bermuda Government mB^th AnnualSmithsonian Folklife Festiva . On The National Mall, Washington, D.C.June 27 - July 1 a July 4 - July 8, 2001 Bermuda ConnectionMew York City amheSmithsonian'Masters c#!he Building Arts The Festiva.is co-sponsored by __the National Park Service. The Festival is supported by federally appropriated funds, Smithsonian trust funds, contributions from governments, businesses,foundations, and individuals, in-kind assistance, volunteers, food and craft sales,and Friends of the Festival. IVIajor in-kind support has been provided byGoPed and IVIotorola/Nextel. NewYOiK CITY ax THe smiTHSonianThis program is produced in collaboration with Mew York'sCenter for Traditional Music and Dance and City Lore, with major funding from the New York City Council,the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs,Howard P. Milstein, and the New York Stock Exchange.The Leadership Committee is co-chaired by The HonorableDaniel Patrick Moynihan and Elizabeth Moynihan and corporate chairman Howard P. Milstein. Major support is provided by Amtrak, Con Edison, theRecording Industries Music Performance Trust Funds,Arthur Pacheco, and the Metropolitan TransportationAuthority. Major contributors include The New YorkCommunity Trust, The Coca-Cola Company, The DurstFoundation, the May ?t Samuel Rudin Family Foundation,Leonard Litwin, and Bernard Mendik. Additional donorsinclude Stephen and Judy Gluckstern, Emigrant SavingsBank, and Jeffrey Gural. BermuDa connecxionsThis program is produced in partnership with the BermudaGovernment Departments of Community and Cultural Affairs within the Ministry of the Environment, Development andOpportunity and The Bermuda Connections SmithsonianFolklife Festival Charitable Trust. The leadership Committee is chaired by The Honourable Terry E. Lister, J.P., M.P. Major contributors include the Bank of Bermuda Foundation,the Bermuda Hotel Association, BELCO, Cable Et Wireless,TYCO International Ltd., ACE Limited, The Argus Group, andCentre Solutions. Major in-kind support has been provided bythe Bermuda Container Line, the Bermuda Hotel Association,Appleby, Spurling ft Kempe, Bermuda Export Sea Transfer,Stevedoring Services, and Deloitte ft Touche. Masxers of thc BiiiiDinGajtsThis program is produced in collaboration with theInternational Union of Bricklayers and Allied Craftworkersand the International Masonry Institute, the National Trustfor Historic Preservation, the National Building Museum,the American Institute of Architects, and the PreservationTrades Network. Major funding is provided by Homestore.com, the MarbleInstitute of America, Allied Stone Industries, the BuildingStone Institute, the Indiana Limestone Institute, and theNational Building Granite Quarries Association. Major contributors include Target Stores, the Associated GeneralContractors of America, the National Association of Realtors,and the Smithsonian Women's Committee. Additional donorsinclude the School of the Building Arts, Duron, Inc., the BrickIndustry Association, the Laborers' International Union ofNorth America, the Smithsonian Educational Outreach Fund,and the Copper Development Association, Inc. The Festival's Cultural Partnerships f"^by Lawrence M. Small The Festival: Speaking of Heritageby Deny Galvin i, The Globalization and Localization of Cultup.Jby Richard KurinA Tribute to S. Dillon Ripleyby Diana Parker K-'' '-| Bermuda Connectionsimuda by William Zuill, Sr.Bermuda Cedar and Its Carvers by James ZirBermuda Connections by Diana Baird N'DiayeNotes on Bermudian Language Iby Ruth Thomas "My Girl Verna": Bermudian VernacularArchitecture in the ?ist Centuiy ^by James Tucker NewYork City at the Smithsoman Masters ofthe BuildingArts IVlarjorie HuntThe Builder's Art by Heniy Glassie Ralph Rinzler Memorial Concert Mai^StiefMead Centennial Concert One of the Smitlisonian's goals is to preserve American and human culturalheritage and share it with our fellow citizens of the nation and theI worid. This is a big job, and there is simply no way the Smithsonian I can accomplish it alone. We rely on partnerships with numerousorganizations and individuals to help us. This is especially evident inthe annual Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which this year features programson New York City, Bermuda, and the building arts.The Festival depends on solid research. Several dozen Bermudian scholars, educa- tors, and artists working with Smithsonian curator Diana Baird N'Diaye interviewed hun-dreds of tradirion-bearers, documenring everything from gardening to house-building tomusic-making. That documentary archive of tapes, photographs, field notes, and videosnow consritutes a snapshot of Bermudian culture and provides the basis for the Festivalprogram, as well as a resource for the future. A similar effort took place in my home-town. New York City. Folklorist Nancy Groce directed the curatorial work - selecting thetraditions to feature at the Festival and the people to present them - aided by cultural organizarions in the city, among them the Center for Tradirional Music and Dance, CityLore, and the Museum of American Financial History, a Smithsonian affiliate. Masters ofthe Building Arts grew from the vision of the Smithsonian's Marjorie Hunt, guided byher own stellar research on the stone carvers of the National Cathedral.THe FCSTivaL's cuLTurai parxnersHiPSby Lawrence M. Small, Secretary, Smithsonian Institution It is not by research and curarion alone that any exhibirion or program comes tofruirion - institutional and fiscal support are necessities. In New York, fiscal supportfrom the City Council was combined with private giving. Daniel Patrick and ElizabethMoynihan led Festival organizers to a strong group of New York partisans. HowardMilstein took a leadership role. The New York Stock Exchange, Amtrak, Con Edison, theNew York Community Trust, Arthur Pacheco, and others made important donarions. InBermuda, the Departments of Community and Cultural Affairs, under Minister Terry Lister's leadership, mobilized the island's resources. The Bank of Bermuda Foundationprovided fiscal support, and inspired others. To develop the building arts program, wejoined forces with the National Trust for Historic Preservation and the National BuildingMuseum. We enlisted the support of the International Union of Bricklayers and AlliedCraftworkers, Homestore.com, the Stone Expo's industry groups, and others with aninterest in highlighting and preserving the skills that beautify our built environment.Festival production entailed additional partnerships. The National Park Servicehelped us prepare the National Mall to receive a subway car loaned by the MetropolitanTransportarion Authority, a fully rigged dinghy loaned by Sandys Dinghy Association,and scaffolding used by Universal Builders Supply for restoring the Statue of Liberty andthe Washington Monument. Add to this support of more than 600 volunteers, many ofwhom have helped the Festival for decades.Finally, there are the participants, who grace the Mall with their presence to sharetheir knowledge, skill, arristry, and wisdom. It is, we hope, useful to those participantsthemselves, who, as a result of their partnership with the Smithsonian and theirconnecrion with the public, return home renewed of purpose to preserve and extendtheir traditions to future generations. Ihe National Park Service, like the Smithsonian Institution, helps preserveour nation's heritage. By caring for the nation's historic sites, its trails,monuments, and memorials, we help the voices of the past speak to ustoday. This is important work if future generations are to benefit fromthe lessons learned, the knowledge gained, the skills developed, the artistryaccomplished by our forebears.The Smithsonian Folklife Festival shares in this work. The Festival celebrates not only monuments, buildings, museum-quality artifacts, historical facts, and valuedperformances, but the people who make them, hold them in esteem, and debatetheir meaning. The Festival represents a wonderful range and diversity of voices andhuman experiences.This year's Festival features programs on the building arts. New York City, andBermuda. The Masters of the Building Arts program brings together expertcraftsmen in the building trades who use tradirional arts to restore our monumentsand historic sites. Among them you will find many of those arrisans who've workedon the Washington Monument, the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial, AcomaPueblo, historic Charieston, and Native Hawaiian sites. It is these arrisans that helpthe Narional Park Service and its state and local partners to preserve America'streasured heritage.THC FesTivaL: speaKinc of HeriTaoeby Deny Galvin, Acting Director, National Park Service The New York City program highlights the way in which that city has become theglobal village. Broadway, the fashion industry, the Apollo Theater, and Wall Street are all featured. So too is the vital cultural creativity that has come about as people fromthe worid over have settled in New York. The Festival provides a contemporary look atimmigrarion and its importance to our culture. The fact that so many people from every comer of the earth have come to our shores through New York in order to buildtheir lives and our narion has inspired generarions. The Statue of Liberty and the Fllis Island Immigrarion Station are part of the National Park System and part ofNew York's story.Bermuda, though separated from the United States by hundreds of miles of ocean,has long played a role in our history. Bermuda was settled by colonists on their wayto Jamestown, Virginia, where they rescued starving survivors of that colony. In thelast centuty, Bermuda, always entrepreneurial and self-reliant, has developed tourismand financial industries in a symbioric relarionship with the United States. Bermudiansfoster strong community connections within their own island society, as well as thoseof commerce, culture, and cooperation with the people of narions whose shores touchthe Atlanric Ocean.The Narional Park Service has been a proud partner for some three decades inhelping to provide a forum for those voices to be heard and those experiences to beconveyed. We understand that there is perhaps no more powerful place for theAmerican people and those who've come from other narions to gather and speak toeach other than on the Narional Mall of the United States. As stewards of America'sfront lawn, we welcome you to the Festival. i by Richard Kurin lien 1 was growing upin Mew York in the 1950s, '. there was a popular joke '; about a man who was ^; opening up a Chinese restaurant - though it couldjust as easily have been aJewish deli or Italian pizzeria: "fifc-ii This guy wanted to promote hisnew restaurant, so he put a sign inthe window - "Best Chinese Food in New York City." Another guy a 'ew stores away got nervous andthe next day put a new sign inhis window - "Best Chinese Food in the United States." A third restaurant owner on the block, worried about losing customers,got someone to make him a new neon sign for his window - "Best Chinese Food in the WholeWorld." In this battle, a fourth restaurant put out its sign - "Best Chinese Food in theUniverse." The last restaurant was owned by a%uy who thought the ^^^J^^hing ridiculous; he really served the best food and was very clever, so he put up his sign - "Best Chinese Food on the Block!" ..e got all the busmess. The Globalization& Localization of Culture Former Speaker of the U.S. House of RepresentativesTip O'Neill said that "all politics is local." The joke illus-trates a parallel point - all culture is local. Though all sorts of traditions, innovations, discoveries, and eventsmay originate in distant places, their impact, if they have any, must be felt "close to home" to make a difference inpeople's everyday lives. Conversely, as in the example,local culture is often projected into a larger regional, national, even global context. From foods to sounds,technology to fashion, language to celebrity, the productswe associate with global culture originate with particularpeople in a localized situation. GLOBALIZINGAND LOCALIZING PROCESSGlobalization and localization are dynamic, inter- related processes of cultural interchange. We sometimesequate globalization with the spread of Western and par-ticularly U.S. commercial cultural products around the world - McDonald's burgers and fries, Levi's jeans, reruns of "1 Love Lucy," CNN "Headline News," Hollywood action films, and Disney characters. The seeming ubiquity of these products and their attendant economic conse-quences are sometimes seen as threatening or wiping outlocal culture and draining local economies for the benefitof distant multinational corporations. Folklorist AlanLomax saw this trend early on - the ever-extending spread of a commercial mass culture that would lead tothe increasing homogeneity of culture everywhere. "Cultural grey-out" was the term he used.There are other cultural products that also go global or at least close to it, and yet have little association with either American origins or Western corporations. Indianfilms from Mumbai - "Bollywood" in the vernacular -move easily across the Subconrinent into East Africa andthe Gulf, and to groceries and eateries in Chicago, pick-ing up Swahili, Arabic, and English subtitles, and rackingup more viewers than anything Hollywood puts out.Chinese food is found across the globe, carried not by chain stores but by families who've settled in just about every narion. Sometimes the globalizarion is aestheticallydriven - while Americans danced the Brazilian Macarenaand hummed the tunes of South Africa's Ladysmith BlackMambazo, bluegrass became more popular in Japan thanin the United States. Other rimes, it may have socio-polit-ical ends. Amazonian Native people, for example, work with Ben and Jerry's and Cultural Survival on crearingtropical nut ice cream to sell to American consumers tohelp save rainforest culture. In these cases, a localized cultural product has been universalized. And it's not onlycommercial products that traverse the planet, but ideas as well. Americans, French, and Brazilians chant TibetanBuddhist mantras. Ideas of democracy and human rights reach Tienanmen Square, as students sing "We ShallOvercome." Indian writers dominate contemporaryEnglish-language literature, and South African heroesinspire the worid.At the same time culture goes global, it also becomeslocalized. McDonald's, to accommodate Hindu andMuslim sensibilities in India, serves mutton burgers - nobeef, no pork. Universalized English is transformed into example, of the spread of Buddhism, Christianity, andIslam. Yet even with formal doctrine and belief, we see atremendous variety of local forms of "universal" religion, e.g., Afro-Caribbean syntheses with Christianity;Indonesian, Moroccan, and even British styles of Muslimpractice; Japanese, Sri Lankan, and American styles ofBuddhism. Some globalizations occur over centuries,spreading cultural products, customs, beliefs, and values,such as Hispanization in the New Worid; and some formsof localization occur almost immediately, as for examplethe adaptation by Trobriand Islanders in Worid War II of cricket as a clan contest invoking magic and ritualexchange. Some forms of globalization may be morehumane than others, more respectful of the culturaldiversity they subsume. They may actually encouragelocal cultural pracrice and the production of tradirionaland innovative arts, goods, and ideas. In other cases, theagents of globalizarion - whether they be conquerors,merchants, or missionaries ? may be quite imperial and What is new about the current processes of giobaUzation and locaHzation isthe speed at which they take place, the number of cu] Spanglish at the Mexican border. Computer keyboards areremanufactured with Chinese rather than Latin charactersto serve a narion with over a billion people. American tel- evision shows are recast with local characters, accents,and plots the worid over. Studio synthesizers are retooledfor use as instruments in African pop music clubs.Western rock music acquires Russian lyrics and themes inMoscow.Localization tends to make culture more heteroge- neous. Widespread cultural forms are actively adapted bylocal people and particularized to local sensibilities, tak-ing on local nuances, local character, and terminology.New products and ideas are absorbed into local practice.The processes of globalizarion and localizarion arenot new. From ancient times, trade along the Silk Roadwas a globalizing force, bringing luxury goods and ideas across continents. The ancient civilizarions of India, ofMeso- and South America were globalizing in their own right, developing dialecrical relarionships with local and regional subcultures as they spread over the landscape.While some globalizarions are commercially based, likethe Silk Road, others are religious; one thinks, for oppressive. Rather than encouraging a local engagementof the global culture, they may persecute practitioners ofthe local culture and seek to outlaw or delegirimate theidentity and institutions of local folk. 1n such cases, local culture may become a refuge from or vehicle of resistanceto globalizing forces. C0NTEMP0K4RY CULTURAL EXCHANGEWhat is new about the current processes of global-ization and localization is the speed at which they takeplace, the number of cultural products involved, and thebreadth of distribution. Paleo-archaeologists suggest ittook a few hundred thousand years for the knowledge offire-making to spread among all humans. Now, goods canspread around the worid in days, information in minutes,and digital transactions in milliseconds. This is fine formany things, but it is not uniformly good. Viruses biolog-ical and virtual now spread much more quickly than our ability to control them. Secondly, in prior forms of glob- alization relatively few products, materials, or ideas weremoved from place to place, traveling by foot, horseback, or boat. Today, uncountable ideas flow over the Worid lo The Dalai Lama participated in a ritual enactment at the 2000 Smithsonian Folklife Festival for an audience of 50,000 on the Mall. The event was webcast, broadcastinto Tibet, and covered by 150 news organizations. For the Smithsonian and the participating Tibetan organizations, presenting the culture beyond the Tibetancommunity was a means of preserving the culture within it. PhotobyJefflmsicy.o Smithsonian Institution Wide Web across the planet. Innumerable goods and materials fill shipments, suitcases, and express mail pack- ages. Again, while this is beneficial for distributing medi- cine to needy children, it is problematic in reference tothe flow of pollutants, illegal drugs, and weapons. Finally, while prior globalizing forms depended upon face-to-face contact and reached only a relatively few people at atime through adventurers, brokers, and middlemen,today's globalizarion reaches great numbers of peoplethrough mass migration, travel, communication, and thepervasive electronic media. When the content is humane,democratic, uplifting, this may be fine. But when it con- veys lies, inflames hatred, and provokes violence, a broadglobal reach might not be such a good thing.The pace and scope of the flow or movement of cultural products have implications for the way we thinkabout cultures. Most of our social sciences are basedupon the idea of culture as a natural phenomenon. Earlytheorists classified cultures as they would species. Natural listic framework of cultural processes. Culture doesn't justhappen. Globalization and localization depend upon the active decision-making of particular people and groups ofpeople, deliberating agents who recognize various beliefsand practices in a constellation of local and global spheres, weigh alternatives, craft strategies, and pursue activities to achieve desired ends. Many political, fiscal, cultural, and artistic leaders are quite conscious of their choices to, for example, adapt global practices, supportlocal institutions, invite benevolent and fend off malevolent influences, etc., as they see them. 2001 FESTIVAL PROGRAMSThe programs at this year's Festival, like those of other years, well illustrate the relationship and dynamictension between local and global cultural processes.Globalization is not new to Bermuda, itself discoveredduring an age of global exploration. From the beginning, settiers had to adapt to local conditions to survive. They ral products involved, and the breadth of distribution. processes of evolution were thought to model cultural ones. Indeed, we still find anthropology departments in natural history museums. This naturalistic view of culturehas also been a rather static one ? cultures are named,bounded, clearly associated with a particular people,time, and geography. Society has structure, is arranged in strata, has a morphology, and culture has a set of discrete traits and characteristics. Globalization and localization challenge this static view and suggest an alternative,hydraulic metaphor. Culture and society may be morefluid, as beliefs and practices flow globally and are chan- neled locally. Populations flow across borders in waves.Speech and images flow through fiber-optic cable. Thefree flow of ideas, information, and fiscal transactions isthe basis of the global economy. We now have "stream-ing culture," as sounds and images from around the worid flow into home computers. Thinking about the ebband flow of culture may be a more appropriate 21st- century way to conceptualize exchange than to see it interms of center and periphery, metropole and hinteriand, as characterized 19th- and 20th-century views. But even more, globalization and localization challenge the natura- honed seafaring and trading skills. They carved furniture out of local cedar and ingeniously quarried limestone, cut it into slabs, and made roofs for their homes with con-duits to catch, funnel, and store precious rain - their only source of fresh water. Despite its small size andlonely mid-Atiantic location, the worid came to Bermuda, with its settiers originating in England, and subsequentpopulation coming from the Caribbean, the UnitedStates, the Azores, and increasingly now from around the worid. Tourists and international companies followed.Bermuda gave the worid its onions, its shorts, its sailingprowess. Now, Bermuda builds on its experience as his-torical values and connections have evolved into contem-porary ones. Its strategic position on mercantile sea trade routes has been transformed into a similarly strategicposition in the flow of international capital through thefinance, banking, and re-insurance industries. Ingenuityon the high seas has turned into skill in navigating con-temporary markets. The survival skills honed on rock isleshave encouraged adaptability, flexibility, and self-reliance.Bermudians know how to take things from elsewhere andmake them their own, giving them local significance. 'mt'? KOSHER CUISINE Kosher Cuisine Kite-flying, benign child's play in most places, had serious educational value here, teaching children to adapt materials, designs, and techniques to wind currents, aparticularly useful talent on the high seas. Cricket, a colonial game imported by Anglo-Bermudians, is thecenterpiece of Cup Match, an annual island ritual celebrating the 1834 liberation from slavery. In music,Caribbean calypso, Jamaican reggae, club music, andeven jazz acquire Bermudian lyrics and tones.The masters of the building arts brought to the Mallfor the Festival illustrate the historical, global spread ofcraftsmanship. Stone carvers, originally immigrants from Italy, have carved American icons from WashingtonNational Cathedral to the Supreme Court. Of course,they have had to do their work with Indiana limestone,Vermont granite, and a host of other local materials.Adobe builders from New Mexico practice an art with roots in the ancient Middle East. This architecture, mudbrick used by peasants the worid over, became a localtradirion in New Mexico. Now it is the rage among the richest of newly immigrant home buyers in that state.The building arts have flourished because of their spread. New tools, techniques, and materials have beenacquired in decorative metalwork, plastering, and brick-work over the centuries, as these crafts have traversedthe planet. Still, localizations provide nuances of styleand innovarions.We now have "streaming culture, And then there is New York. There is no place moreglobal. Wall Street, the garment district, Broadway -these are global institutions, intimately tied to financial,fashion, and entertainment networks the worid over. Justabout every cuisine in the worid is available in New York.People speaking hundreds of languages, from every narion and region on earth, populate the city. New York is a concentrarion of ideas, styles, and information, amagnet for the rest of the worid, drawing in people of allkinds, shapes, persuasions, and interests.But New York is not just a collecrion of the worid's cultural diversity. It is its crucible. The local culture isjuxtaposirion, combinarion, fusion, opposirion, resistance.Localization is interaction. Where else can you get kosher Photo by Njnt-y Gtoce, thm.cadence, and even vocabulaiy to the English spoken on theislands. Some young Bermudians try to emulate the English ofthe Rastafarian conmiunity in Jamaica, reggae dub poets, orAmerican rap artists.In spite of evolutionary change in Bermudian English andthe effects of frequent contact with other English-speaking countries, some elements from the past still linger. An exam-ple is the way Bermudian English sometimes interchanges thesounds /v/ and /w/-. for example, "^ere is Villiam's wiolin?" for 'Where is William's violin'?"Other characteristically Bermudian words and expressions include nicknames. Many people in Bermuda.28 The Cup Match holiday is a cricket match, a time of family reunion, and an annual celebration ot the end of slavery in Bermuda.Photo by John Zurll. courtesy the Bermuda Government particularly men, have nicknames. For example, the name "Bus Stop" was given to the owner of an old taxi who picked uphis clients at bus stops rather than at the usual taxi stands.A boy who could not afford his o^vn shoes once wore hismother's shoes to a party; the nickname "Mama's Shoes"followed him through his adult life. Sometimes all the malemembers of a family will share the same name. The eyes ofmembers of one such family, all called "Cat," were thought tohave a feline appearance. Nicknames are so frequently usedthat a person's given name is often forgotten. Nicknamesappear in the telephone directory and also in death notices. A sampling of more general Bermudian terms referring topeople includes: sparrow: local woman. This bird never leavesthe island, hence the comparison withBermudian women.longtail: female tourist. The longtail is aseasonal bird that comes to Bermudain the spring. That is when thetourists usually begin to visit.diddly bops: teenagers on motorized bikes.Onion: Bermudian. The island was knownfor growing onions. Ruth Thomas, BA, MSC, worked in education for many years before joining the Department of Community Services, where she founded theDepartment of Cultural Affairs (now the Department of Community and Cultural Affairs). She is co-founder of the spoken-word group Mosaic. 29 rrMY GirLverna"Bermudian Vernacular Architecture in the i^ist Centuiyby Jamts TuckerThere are two contradictorycurrents within Bermudian vernacular architecture today.One is the original buildingtradition of the 17th century, and the other is "3ist-century BermudianVernacular."Vernacular architecture is defined as the building tradition of a local people. It is a pattern language or dialect of construc-tion that is particular to a group of people.The earlier form of Bermudian construction can bedescribed as simple, quiet, and understandable. Consisting of timeless forms, it is clearly defined and beautiful in its "fit for purpose."The ^ist-century vernacular, however, seems to present adynamic, unpredictable landscape. Today's buildings appear as a chaotic clash of form, color, and style. Afchitectural elements are interpreted and executed by the builder in a naive style.The decoration is often based on memory and individual caprice, not on scaled architectural plans.This is the paradox: How can both of these worlds havebeen drawn into the gravitational orbit of Bermudian vernacu-lar architecture? Part of the answer is really quite simple:The practitioners have changed. The earlier architecture wasbuilt by English colonists adapting their building knowledge tothe climate and materials of their new home. The ^ist-centurs^ vernacular is a building style born out of a multicultuial hodgcpodge. As a people we combine many cultural influences,which still somehow make us uniquely Bermudian. Above, left: Archetvp.il Brim 11 Hi. in vi-iiui ul.u iiinsr.ls nl Mni|ilt quiet,understandable, and timeless tnrms from a previous idealized life.Photo courtesy the Bermuda Government Above: These bottles, while not strickly architecture, nonetheless representthe spirit of what is 21st-century vernacular and represent Bermudians'need to celebrate the everyday.Photo by Kristen Fernekes. ? Smithsoniyii institutionAs one people we need to accept each other's stylistic ways of "celebrating" shelter, both when we share values in particu-lar architectural forms and when we don't. We need to be ableto accept ? if not entirely understand ~ each other's styles tocome together as one society.We can start by being less critical of our built environ-ment: such criticism is only divisive. We can stop trying to "interpret" all of what we see and try to be less "educated" inour judgments. We should recognize that putting up a buildingis art - only keeping it from falling down is science.James Tucker is a Bermudian archilccl unci Imildinij arts researcherwho is currently workintj on a book about 21st-cenlury Bermudian vernacular architecture. Because "Black" Bermudians could not play cricket in thegames sponsored by the British clubs, friendly societiesand lodges run by Bermudians of African descent createdand sponsored the Somerset and St. George's cricketteams. The teams eventually generated their own social clubs that remain active today, when Cup Match brings all Bermudians together. Cup Match regalia and dress are art forms in their own right, and the verbal art of CupMatch commentary is a relished performance. Today, CupMatch is still much more than a sporting event - it is an occasion for Bertnudian artistry and performance.Easter is another occasion for family and community celebration all over the island. On Good Friday, Bermudians fly kites, play marbles, and eat traditionalfoods such as hot cross buns with codfish cakes.Gombeys (costumed dancers) appear in the streets and atthe doorsteps of friendly families. Members of churchcongregations across the islands dress their churches withdevotional offerings of lilies and other fresh flowers fromtheir home gardens for Easter Sunday, and island familiesplace new flowers in the pots and urns at the gravesitesof cherished relatives. Such Bermudian traditions reflect shared values.Nowadays most building in Bermuda is done entirelyby hired contractors; however, Delaey Robinson recallsthat in his childhood "when building went on. ..you might 3o hire a skilled person, be it carpenter or mason, if youneeded those additional skills. But by and large, the laborwas home-grown ? neighbors, friends, and family. It was very much a swap situation. Nobody had houses builtby contractors, so you always had [help], and of courseyou reciprocated and helped people who helped you.... 1 remember at Sandy Hill, weekends were devoted tobuilding. It was a long process to build a house. It tookmonths and months." Ruth Thomas describes the celebration at the end of the process: wetting the roof with black rum demonstrates closure and expresses good wishes for the house's inhabitants. Although many fewerhomes are built collectively, Robinson, a member ofParliament, Jnas suggested that revitalizing this traditionmay help to make homes affordable to more people onthe island, reinforce family and community bonds, andpass on valuable cultural skills and knowledge. A farm worker examines a crop of lilies. The flower is traditionally grown atEaster in Bermuda, for export and home and church decoration.Photo courtesy tile Betmuda Government Bermudians are often at a loss to describe what isunique about their culture because of all the influencesfrom various surrounding lands. They sometimes mistak- enly conclude that Bermudians have no culture, that allBermudian culture is imported from England, the UnitedStates, the Caribbean, and Portugal. But push them a lit- tle harder, and Bermudians will remember their love ofthe sea, travel, and enterprise; the values of civility andhospitality; and their artful way with words.Bermudians value the resourcefulness with which theyturn circumstances to their own use. In keeping withtheir perception of constant risk yet relative good fortune,they are realists, opportunists, and yet careful to acknowl-edge divine providence (there are more local religious establishments per person than most places in the world).They endeavor to use every resource; to watch what andwho enters and leaves the island; to foster, nurture,and manage connections between family and community.They maintain clear borders between insiders and out- siders. These values permeate Bermudian experience.Bermudian culture shapes the island, and the island shapeBermudian culture. I am proud of my own Bermuda connections.Bermuda was my home for much of my early childhood,and it was a pleasure to return. The island remains forme a place of entrancing beauty, nurturing family,friends, and enriching cultural experiences. 1 hope thatthe Festival program and research that has supported it contribute to the conversations through which islanders are inclusively defining and affirming Bermudian culture. Suggested Reading The Bermudian, a monthly magazine on Bermutdian history andculture now in its 71st year, is an excellent source for more informa-tion about the island's traditions and heritage. Here are a few otherpublications that may be helpful in understanding the history andscope of Bermuda's occupational and cultural traditions and theeveryday life of the island's residents. Emery, Llewellyn. 1996. Nothing but a Pond Dog. Hamilton: BermudaPublishing Company. . 1999. The Fires of Pembroke. Hamilton: BermudaPublishing Company. Jones, Elizabeth. 1999. Bermudian Recollections. Hamilton: BermudaMinistry of Community, Culture Et Information. McDowall, Duncan. 1999. Another World: Bermuda and the Rise ofModern Tourism. London: MacMillan Education Limited. Robinson, Marlee, ed. 2000. Made In Bermuda: Bermudian silver,furniture, art ft design. Hamilton: Bermuda National Gallery. Watson, Judith. 1997. Bermuda: Traditions ft Tastes. Portsmouth, R.L:Onion Skin Press. Ziral, James, and Elizabeth Jones. 1999. Insiders Guide to Bermuda.2d ed. Hamilton: Royal Gazette. Zuill, William S. 1999. The Story of Bermuda and her People.3d ed. London: MacMillan Education Ltd. Diana Baird N'Diayc, Ph.D., curator of the Bermuda Connectionsproyram, is a Folklore Specialist at the Smithsonian. ResearchersJames Ziral, John Zuill, and Ruth Thomas contributed itwaluably toideas in this article in a series of meetings prior to its composition. LOCaL sCITY What makes New York City unique? Distilling the essence of New York's cultural complexity, summing up its vitality, richness, and energy is adaunting assignment ? one that calls for a good deal of hubris, or, inthe local parlance, chutzpah. But the New York I experience daily as afolklorist and as a New York resident, a liveable metropolis of discreteneighborhoods and overlapping communities, is rarely the one I seeportrayed by the media, read about in novels, or hear spoken of by tourists. iiBKmvAi QmceThe ?ooi Smithsonian Folklife Festival gives me and some of my fellowNew Yorkers a chance to describe how we see our city, to demonstrate itstraditions and trades, and to explain how New York can be simultaneouslyboth a global capital and a hometown. It provides a national platformto refute the tourist's refrain "1 love to visit New York, but I couldn'tlive there." Like me, millions of New Yorkers wouldn't think of livinganywhere else. At first, it miglit seem lili^>m !h at theSchomburg. Part of the vast New York PublicLibrary system, the Schomburg is one of the |world's great research libraries; its holdings aredevoted exclusively to documenting the histoiy and cultural development of peoples of African descent i;throughout the world. From its founding in 1 925during the Harlem Renaissance, the center has > amassed a vast collection of over 5 million items,including over 3.5 million manuscripts, 170,000books, and 750,000 photographs, as well as rich collections of recordings, sheet music, documentaryfilms, and oral histories. A cultural center as well as a repository, the Schomburg sponsors a wide array of interpretive programs, including exhibi-tions, scholarly and public forums, and culturalperformances. 38 Rajkumari Cultural Center84-25 118th Street, Ste. IF, Kew Gardens, NY 11415phone/fax: 718.805.8068 ?J>Ma?l;:WHH:WHOl<>ii?lim'i ,d to preserving, teaching,and presenting the arts and culture of Indo-Caribbeans from Guyana, Trinidad, and Surinamliving in the New York metropolitan area.Supported by volunteers and private contributions,the center's work includes after-school educationand performance programs in traditional arts, culture, and contemporary creativity. To ac olish our soals. Raikumari works collaborJ performance groups, individual teachers and artists, theaters, museums, libraries, community centers, and patrons.Founded in 1994 by the late Kathak exponent. SiGora Singh, and his sister, Pritha Singh, the centerhas developed three full-length repertories ofIndo-Caribbean heritage arts, which are presented at an annual musical dance-drama production. We Photo by Nala Singham, courlesy the Rajkumari Cultural Centerhave brought together and presented over 3o "custodian" or master artists and created a network of major Indo-Caribbean scholars, performers, and more than 50 Indo-Caribbean community and cultural organizations in theTri- State region. In addition, we regularly presentprogramming at such major New York City institutions asthe American Museum of Natural History, Lincoln Centerfor the Performing Arts, and the Brooklyn Museum. not ? they are simply people who have come across an art form or tradition that fascinates them and are takingadvantage of New York's permeable cultural boundariesto learn more about it. This used to bedevil scholars whopreferred to study unalloyed cultures, traditions which were, for the most part, transmitted within a single family or ethnic group. So where do we place a prominentIrish-American fiddle player who is a French immigrant?What happens when the leader of New York's Norwegiandance community is Italian American? When an ethniccommunity accepts an outsider as a "master" arrist andpractitioner of its traditions, can we as outsiders dismissthat artist as being merely a "revivalist"? Projects likeNew York City at the Smithsonian give us a chance to reconceptualize how we define traditional culture in light of such 21st-century cultural issues as globalization,transnationalism, and urbanization.Cross-cultural mixtures are an inherent part of theurban culture, especially in the arts. Impromptu mixing,in turn, can srimulate new styles of performance and, insome cases, lead to whole new artistic genres. For exam-ple, it was in 1940s New York dance clubs that Puerto Rican, Cuban, and African-American musicians met and created Latin jazz, a style which later evolved into salsa.And it was at block parties and street dances in the SouthBronx where, in the 1970s, practirioners of Caribbean,African-American, and Latin dance and oral poetry tradi- rions met to spark the development of hip-hop. Irish fid-dle players who came to New York at the turn of the 20th century with pronounced regional styles and repertoireshad children who learned to play a pan-Irish New York style. Some of their New York Irish grandchildren nowplay jigs and reels accompanied by West African drum- mers, or interspersed with rap breaks. Where else in the worid would you come across a Chinese erhu player busk-ing with a Dominican accordionist on a subway platform, or hear a Senegalese-Colombian dance band? In NewYork, where most people live in small, thin-walled apart-ments surrounded by neighbors, many performances ofwhat were tradirionally community-based arts take place outside the home in public spaces where "outsiders" canhear and potenrially participate. To quote a local expression, "It's always something." I would argue thatthis "something" is what gives New York its energy 39 and vitality ? what malvww.peoplespoetry.org.), a major cultural event co-sponsored with Poets House,highlights the city and the world's poets andpoetries, focusing on the interrelationships amongfolk, inner-city, literary, and musical forms. ThePeople's Hall of Fame, an annual awards ceremony,honors New Yorkers who contribute creatively tothe city's folk culture. Media programs includefilms and exhibits on subjects such as gospelmusicians and ethnic parades, stories for NPR,and sponsorship of films such as Ric Burns's PBS series New York-. A Film. Our extensive educationalprograms with students and teachers includeintegrating folk and community arts into the classroom, operating a mail-order catalog of mltural resources (ww^v.carts. org), and national staff development programs. really a series of interrelated occupational communities,each specializing in a different segment of garmentdesign, manufacturing, and marketing. It encompassesdesigners, fashion models, and the production of interna-tionally celebrated runway shows; young cutting-edge clothing designers from the East Village or Brooklyn whotranslate the latest inner-city street styles into the nextyear's trendiest fashions; and ethnic tailors and seam- stresses who follow centuries-old traditions to provide clothing for community rituals and celebrations. It alsoincludes tens of thousands of New York garment workerswho, like generations of New Yorkers before them, work long hours at laborious jobs cutting, piecing, and sewing clothing for local designers. Unionization and labor lawshave done away with the worst abuses of early 20th- century New York "sweatshops," but many garment workers are still recently arrived immigrants whose lackof English and technical skills limit other employment opportunities.The garment trade is still the largest industry inNew York City, and its size permits an incredible degree of specialization that can only be hinted at during theFestival. Along Seventh Avenue in Manhattan's "Garment District," small signs in second- and third-story windows advertise the presence of feather importers, button dyers,mannequin makers, trim emporiums, fur cutters, andshoulder-pad manufacturers. Many of these shops, which are open "to the trade only," have been in the same fami- lies for three or more generations. (The longevity of manyfamily businesses in the city often surprises non-NewYorkers.) By inviting to the Festival artists and craftspeo-ple from various aspects of the city's fashion industry,many of them trained in multigenerational family busi- nesses, we hope to give visitors an insight into a few ofthe many traditional crafts that sustain New York as thefashion capital of the world. i it )I iI II n _ .- ? ? 'i? ??' ... i.. ????? " !2i ?? ??! !!f Alianza Dominicana2410 Amsterdam Avenue, New York, NY 10033212.740.1960Aiianza DoniinKaua is the most diverse sucial service agency in Manhattan's WashingtonHeights/Inwood neighborhood, as well as thelargest Dominican organization in North America.Taking a holistic approach, Alianza offers various services to nurture and fortify family life. Sinceour founding, culture has played an important role in fulfilling our mission. In the last 12 years, Alianza has participatedin teaching and presenting Dominican culturethrough demonstrations, exhibitions, presenta-tions, festivals, parades, conferences, seminars,workshops, television programs, and radiointerviews ? making use of all possibilities tomaintain and disseminate information about our culture, establish solid contact with our roots, andstrengthen our sense of identity, of who we are asDominicans, in order to strengthen ourselves as acommunity.The content and goals of our cultural programs foryouth are being constantly refined both to instruct students directly and to train them so that theycan teach others. Our programs include Theater,Painting and Crafts, Video, and Folklore andPopular Culture. Our work with young actorshighlights two areas: theatrical presentations in schools, parks, and the streets that teach socialand political relations, and the reality andconsequences of HIV. We feature works byDominican authors that reinforce our roots andidentity. Our Painting and Crafts program teaches artistic technique through Dominican carnival crafts ? especially the making of masks andcostumes ? and the origins and evolution ofCarnival from the different regions of theDominican Republic.During the last five years, our students have beentrained in the areas of Dominican folklore andpopular culture through our Conjunto Folkloricogroup, which stresses cultural, spiritual, and material folklore to teach the students about crafts,food, vernacular architecture, language, oraltraditions, music, dance, and other areas offolklore. Through these programs, the classroombecomes an interactive learning environment. 43 -> d Center for Traditional Music and Dance200 Church Street, Room 303, New York, NY 10013212.571.1555 / www.ctmd.org USJQ^Smithsonian, the Center forTraditional Music and Dance ~~'(CTMD) works to celebrate _and strengthen the practice oftraditional performing arts, affirming the value of cultural diversity as an essential component of our national identity. Since its founding in 1968, theCenter has worked closely with ethnic communi-ties throughout the NYC metropolitan region toproduce over 1,000 major artistic presentations,including concerts, festivals, and national concerttours, and numerous audio and visual productions.Through our model Community Cultural Initiativeproject, the Center researches, documents, andpresents the vibrant artistic traditions of New-York's immigrant and ethnic communities, and offers technical assistance to traditional artists innewly arrived immigrant communities. Drawingon our ejrtensive archival holdings and knowledge of New York's grassroots ethnic music, and with agrant from the National Endowment for the Arts,the Center has just produced New York City: GlobalBeat ofthe Boroughs, a double-CD compilationrecently released by Smithsonian FolkwaysRecordings in conjunction with the 2001 FolklifeFestival. Above: A costume maker at Barbara Matera's shop puts final touches on aflying harness that will be worn by a dancer in The Lion King.Photo by Nancy Grace, ? Smithsonian Institution Right: Traditional ethnic foods made according to traditional methods are ahallmark of life in New York. Here bagels are made at Coney Island Bialy andBagels in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.Photo by Annie Hauck-Lawson, 'T Smithsonian Institution WHAT KEEPS GOTHAM GOING?Thus far, 1 have been focusing on New York'sdiversity ? how different ethnic groups, occupations,neighborhoods, and activities co-exist and influenceone another. Perhaps it's time to focus on the numeroustraditions, customs, and celebrations that bring the residents of the city together.Although New York prides itself on being the mostmodem of cities, an important key to understanding the "real" New York is to realize that, in many ways, New York is a very old-fashioned city. Twentieth-century car-based culture has had less impact on New York than anywhere else in America. True, city streets are crowded, but muchof the traffic is comprised of trucks and taxis. Private carownership is low, especially in Manhattan, where streetparking is non-existent and garages and parking lots often charge more than $300 per month. Many NewYorkers never learn how to drive.The lack of cars combined with the city's long historyof high rents for small living spaces are among the factorsthat fuel an active street life. New Yorkers walk, a lot. Whether to get somewhere, run an errand, or just to find a bit of privacy away from a small shared apartment, NewYorkers spend a huge amount of time wall5 Smithsonian Institution Frank BaiocchiMarble MasonMt. Airy, Maryland "Ifell in love with the permanence of the trade. It's a greatfeeling to know that you've donesomething that will be herefor a long time ?that will last even afteryou 're gone. " A marble mason for 40 years, Frank Baiocchi's love for his craftand his dedication to excellence are manifested in finely craftedbuildings throughout the Washington. D.C., area, including the elaborate marble floors of Washington National Cathedral. Along-time member of the International Union of Bricklayers and AlliedCraftworkers. he takes great pride in the precision, speed, and care he brings to his work. "An expert marble mason, all he sees are joints," says Mr. Baiocchi. "We"re looking beyond the colorsand the design. We're looking at the setting of it - the mechanics of it. The challenge is getting everything to fit." f hoto by Charles Weber, a Smithsonian Institution ? ?. / AiDieter GoldkuhleStained Glass ArtisanReston, Virginia "You're always learning, always refiningyour skills. You never stop accumulating a moreintimate understanding ofyour craft. " Born into a family of glass tradesmen in northern Germany,Dieter Goldkuhle has been making and restoring stained glasswindows for over 40 years. A master of his trade, he has devotedhis life to perfecting his art. His lovingly crafted work includes the magnificent rose window, designed by Rowan LeCompte, on the west facade of Washington National Cathedral. "To cut into a beau- tiful sheet of colored glass - to make something that did not existbefore - there's a tremendously satisfying reward coming fromthat," he says of his work. Photo by Donovan Marks, courtesy Washington National Cathedral Albert ParraAdobe BuilderAlbuquerque, New Mexico "It's a journey, a lesson in life. Everydayyou're making adobe, it's with a purpose. Youput some soul into it. It's a soul buildingforme - there's a whole philosophy of life. " Albert Parra has been working with adobe since he was nine years old. Raised by his great -grandmother in Old Town Albuquerque,he learned the trade from an old-time master craftsman, DonGaspar Garcia. "He took me under his wing, and life was neverthe same again," he says. For Albert Parra, building with adobeis a way of connecting to his family, his community, and his cultural heritage through a rich tradition of craftsmanship goingback more than a thousand years in his local region. "Heritage,family, work - it's all cohesive," he says. "One becomes a catalystfor the next." Photo by Elaine thatcher, ^ Smithsonian Institution 5? Marjorie Hunt is a folklnrist and educiitiun specialist until the Smitlisoitian Center fur Fulklife and Cultural Heritatje. She receii'ed her Ph.D. infolklore and folklifc from the University of Pennsylcania in 1995. Her e.rtensii'e work in the area of occupational culture and the building artsincludes her recent hook The Stone Carvers, published by Smithsonian Institution Press. Dr. Hunt is the curator of the Masters of the BuildingArts program. His father talked with the master.They agreed on the terms of his labor,the moral cast of his instruction. Nowhe walked, his little hand in hisfather's big hand, through the dusty streets of dawn to the edge of town,where he was left. An apprentice onhis first day, he stood among the tallmen: hair on their arms, bristly whiskers, stained teeth, bright eyes.Piled lumber filled the shadows, trimranks of planes lined the walls, heav)^benches bore mighty machinery.Burly men bent and shifted elegantlyin the dim, cramped space, and he stood, straight and silent, attentive.by Henry Glassie 59 ike tlie novitiate in a religious order who cleansthe latrines and ladles the brothers their soup,he will find his place at the bottom of ahierarchy, rigid for efficiency, learning when tosweep and scoop the sweepings into the stove,when to run for the hot, sweet tea, red as rabbit's blood, that keeps the men working. Their words are hard and sparse. His response isquick. He jumps, learning to hustle and wait, expectingno thanks, squeezing into the cracks in their routine.He comes first, waiting in the chilled dark for the master with the key. He leaves last, sweeping up thesawdust and curls of wood that will warm the shoptomorrow, then standing by the master's side, in thedark again, when the key is turned. His role is to bedisciplined and busy, sweeping, fetching, sweeping, with no complaint, piling lumber that seems neatlypiled already. In service, he learns about wood, the range of grain and density, from pine and poplar towalnut and oak and hornbeam. He learns the names ofthe tools he is bidden to bring, mastering a technical vocabulary that would satisfy an academic scientist.Working around the work, he watches, enfolding thegestures that he will emulate; the first time he is permit-ted to drive a plane or crank a brace and bit, his bodyholds the posture, his hands flow through the air infamiliar patterns. The words he needs in the ascent tocompetence are few. His learning is social. He sits quietly in the mansmelland smoke, listening closely while the men at tea talkabout life, about gaudy sin and steadfast virtue. The old rules of the trade, compressed into proverbs, are his rulesnow. He submits, abandoning youth, becoming one in ateam unified by mature purpose. That blent purposedirects him to know the materials. Wood teaches him.Then tools teach him, beautiful sharp tools. As he learnswood and tools, a technological tradition is built into thegrowth of his body. Thickening fingers cud to the ham- mer's handle. The plane becomes a new hand, jointed atthe end of his arm, and it darts and glides, smoothingthe faces of planks. A disciple, he kisses the hand of themaster who teaches him the nimble tricks of joinery and counsels him on life, who will help him select the proper girl for his wife. He belongs to an atelier, its tradition ishis, and he is ready for initiation into the deeper myster-ies of the art.With a place on the team, loving the feel of wood, skilled with tools, a journeyman now, he is taught the rules of proportion. Using a slick stick, scored rhythmical- ly, he becomes capable of measurements that bring orderto architectural creations, relating the width of a beam toits length, the length of a beam to the dimensions of aroom that will sit at ease within the balanced unity of ahouse. He moves confidently between chaos and order,transforming natural substances into useful materials,then assembling materials into useful buildings. At his 60 '"--^--- master's side, and then alone, he designs and builds,directing the men who peg the lines and raise the walls, while he squints and studies, testing by touch and look,and perfecting with excellent instruments the finish that signals work done well.They begin to call him master, an honorific term of address that cannot be claimed, seized. It must be grant- ed by society in recognition of skill and wisdom. The master is good with his hands and good with his mind,an accomplished practitioner and designer. And as a mas- ter, he oversees and judges the work of others, he man-ages the business on which the livelihoods of all depend,and he is obliged to teach, receiving wild boys and tam-ing them to craft and life.Holding in my mind real workshops from Turkey andPakistan, 1 sketch the system of the atelier, a system thathas combined production and education to create thebulk of the world's art, from basketry to goldsmithing,from painting to architecture. Most architects have beenbuilders, trained amid work, working in teams, acting inharmony with received ideas of social order ? at once stratified and cooperative - and employing a shared tra-dition of technical procedure and workmanlike taste, of usable form and meaningful ornament. The atelier, of course, must be credited with most of the world's build-ings, the houses and barns and temples called vernacular,but it has yielded as well many among the canonicalmonuments of architectural history. Rahmad Gul, master carpenter, Khwazakhela, Swat, Pakistan, 1997.Photo by Henry Glassie Safeduddin, master carpenter, Peshawar, Pakistan, 1997.Photo by Henry Giassie 6i Chartres Cathedral would be on anyone's short list ofEurope's greatest buildings. When architectural historianJohn James examined the old building with affection andprecision, he found no architect, no aloof consciousnessin command. Instead, James discovered Chartres to bethe creation of a series of master masons, whose habits of hand and mind abide in the fabric. Chartres is the collaborative consequence of different ateliers, eachdistinct in its procedures, all unified by a culture oftheology, technology, and architectural idea.The names of the masters of Chartres are lost. Butgive the architect a name, a personal presence in the record, and the ground of experience, the pattern oflearning and practice, remains firm. Consider Sinan. Hewas born, at the end of the 15th century, in a village in central Anatolia. Trained in a workshop, Sinan was collected into Ottoman service, and marching with theTurks in conquest, he rose from artisan to engineer,planning bridges and roads, and encountering the masterpieces of Mediterranean architecture as the empireexpanded through war. Named the court architect inthe middle of his long life, Sinan began designing theinnovative imperial mosques that make him, by my lights,history's greatest architect. Those same bold buildingsposition him heroically in the minds of modern Turkishworking men.Breaking for tea in the vaulted, shadowy shop,today's artisans recall Sinan's origins when they tell ofthe day he came to inspect the work being done onthe massive mosque he designed for his sultan, Suleymanthe Magnificient, in Istanbul. Sinan was 50, maybe older,when he climbed the high scaffold, picked up a malletand chisel, and began carving to show a workman how it ought to be done. He hammered, the stone yieldedgracefully to his touch, and he continued, remembering.Limber muscles discovered the old grooves. Stonedustpowdered his beard and brocaded kaftan. For manysweet hours, he lost himself into the work he hadmastered in youth.Modern artisans celebrate Sinan's imagination, thetalent for design he developed as a craftsman, whenthey tell how Suleyman, anxious about the progress ofhis mosque, came to Sinan's home and found him lyingin bed, smoking. Outraged, the sultan asked how his architect, his slave, could be stretched in repose with thebuilding yet unbuilt. The worker, Sinan replied, is always ^2 Stone setting dtawiruj, Washington National Cathedral [HJistoric preservation reaiiires the 'skill as well as buildinssfor reuse in contemnrrenewed with the Si .land. at work. At rest, letting his mind range free, Sinan liad solved the problem of the dome that would cap the vastexpanse of his sultan's mosque. Finally, modern workers affirm their values in the story of Suleyman and Sinan standing at the gate ofSuleymaniye, the bright, white new mosque. Sinan handshis sultan the key to the tall front door, inviting him tobe the first to enter. Suleyman takes the key, pauses,ponders, and returns it to his architect, telling him toopen the door and enter, for there will be more sultansin history, but never another Sinan.Rural artisan, military engineer, imperial court architect, Sinan began in an atelier, sweeping, watching,learning materials and tools. Then, advancing by stages,he became the incarnate fulfillment of the old systemof creation.When that system faltered with industrialization, and architects sought separarion from builders, licensingthemselves and selecting artists, not artisans, for their models, when the era we call modern broke into clarity, conscientious critics, with John Ruskin in the lead,mounted an argument against division in labor. Lookingback upon medieval wonders like Chartres, stunned by their superiority to the buildings of the modern age,the critics of the 19th century faulted the system of capitalistic labor that segmented work by category, isolat-ing the designing mind from the laboring hands.Division in labor was not the problem. Complextechnologies are always divided, apportioned by task, ranked by skill. Ignorance was the problem. When the architect has not risen through the trade and has no gripon tools and materials, when designers and builders donot share understanding, when the architect's knowledgeof the workers and their work is weak, then the architect rises and the worker sinks. Become a piece of equipment, a necessary embarrassment, the worker is, perhaps, assigned the impossible, or, more likely, trapped in dead-ening unsarisfaction. The system of creation is marked by alienation, broken by ignorance. The cultural center does not hold. Plans elaborate. Buildings fall apart.How - it is our question ? do the building tradesfare when the system of the atelier seems shattered, andthe architect, with Michelangelo on his mind, aspires tothe status of the artist? How is it for the artisan in our worid? The romantic critic answers with an accusation of enslavement, righteously decrying the inhumanity of a Emin Ata, master stone carver, prepares a replacement for the railing of aminaret of the Suleymaniye, Istanbul, 1985. Photo by Henry Giassie 63 system in which the worker, slcilled and bright, sellshimself for wages and drifts in quiet desperation. The apologist for capitalism counters that a bureaucratic organization of labor is necessary if the architect is to befree and the flow of cash is to increase. Neither argument captures the contemporary reality. Let me suggest four ofthe patterns to be found now, at the beginning of thenew millennium.One pattern in our days is the ancient pattern of the atelier. It is robust, thriving and dominant in many partsof the world, despite the neocolonial thrust of globaliza-tion. Tommy Moore, the mason in a farming communityin Ireland, sits at tea, his dinner done. His neighbor,Paddy McBrien, walks into his kitchen, sits down, receiveshot, creamy tea, and says he wants a new house. Not ahouse like his present one, but one in the new fashion. master, who stands back and locates the windows anddoors by eye. The house goes up, and there it stands:the conjunct result of Tommy's skills and Paddy's desires,the meshed expression - as Chartres was 850 years earlier - of a culture shared among the patron, the builder, and a team at work.Tommy, the architect, lives in the place, kneels forcommunion with the patron on Sundays, sweats in thesun beside his laborers. At the same time, elsewhere, an architect sits in a cool office to draw a set of beautiful, like Eamon Corrigan's. Fine, says Tommy, old builder ofhouses. They have no need for plans; words are few. Theyknow what houses look like and how they operate.Tommy suggests an additional door to ease internal motion. Paddy agrees and sets to work, felling and dress-ing timber, molding a mountain of concrete blocks.One morning in a drizzle. Tommy comes, and thetwo of them stand in the grass, at the midmost pointwhere the fire will burn, and, imagining the house aroundthem, they stake it out. Then when the skies clear,Tommy brings his team of surly, hung-over young men,and Paddy joins them, following the direction of the detailed plans. They pass to a builder in a hard hat who strives to realize the architect's dream by managing agathering of workers for whom it is a matter of wages,and of pride.In upstate New York, Dorrance Weir, a friend withwhom 1 played in a square dance band, took me on atour of his creations. A union carpenter, he built the ply-wood forms for casting concrete. In any architectural his-tory, he would be obliterated, reduced to a force at the architect's whim. But the soaring viaducts into which hewas absorbed anonymously, were, for Dorrance, grandaccomplishments. They prompted narration. He told me 64. Paddy McBrien's house, County Fermanagh. Northern Ireland, 1972.Photo by Henry Classic American vernacular, Wintersport, Maine, 1978. Photo by Htnty Classic how he and his colleagues overcame the difficulties ofimperfect plans and ignorant bosses, using the skills theyhad developed as seasoned professionals to build beauti-ful and useful things that stood massively, opulentlyupon the land.The big construction sites you pass, muddy and rut-ted, noisy with engines, swinging with cranes, afford nopublic recognition for the men at labor in hooded sweat- shirts. But working, now as always, in teams, they learnand teach and cooperate, teasing the apprentices andacknowledging the skills of the gifted. They stop for abeer, then go home at night with more than wages. They take some pleasure in the camaraderie, gain pride in ahard job done well.No matter how complex the plan or machine, there isno building without skilled workers. No skilled worker without a tradition of creative procedure. On the old site, it was the man who could frame a mortise and tenon sotight that the beam sung like a tuned string. On the new site, it is the man who can skin a dozer blade right to theline. The deft hand and sharp eye, the fused union ofmind and muscles, of tradition and predicament, remainbasic to every architectural project.Handcraft being essential to every building, a third Timber framers from around the world came together to build and raise atraditional timber frame structure in Penetanguishine, Ontario.Photo by Will Beemer, courtesy the Timber Framers Guild 65 pattern in our time emerges when the architect, recogniz-ing the worker's skill, decides to make it a decorativepresence in the final product, designing his building, notto absorb, but to display the virtuosic performance of tra-ditional artistry. One exquisite example is the new ArabAssociations Building in Kuwait. Egyptian woodwork,Syrian stonework, and Moroccan tilework provide theconspicuous ornament of a lowering, ultramodern edifice.Dedicated to balancing the record,to revealing modern life in all its complexity, folklorists in the UnitedStates have documented ateliers inwhich artisans continue to employ elder technologies in the creation of architectural ornament. John Vlachbefriended Philip Simmons, anAfrican-American smith whosehammered, wrought-iron masterpiecesadorn his city of Charieston, South Carolina. In film andprint, Marjorie Hunt has limned a lovely collective portraitof the Italian-American masters who carved the palestone of the spiring pile of the National Cathedral inWashington, D.C. 66 At work in his studio, master carver Vincent Palumbo carves a statue of SaintPeter for Washington National Cathedral. Photo by Matiom- Hum As the late James Marston Fitch, architect and educa- tor, long argued, historic preservation requires the preser- vation of knowledge and skill as well as buildings.Whether restored into a museum or adapted for reuse incontemporary life, the derelict house or factory must berenewed with the suave touch of the hand. The artisanon whom the preservation architect depends might havebeen raised and trained in the old system of the atelier,like the masters of WashingtonNational Cathedral. More likely he is aman like Chris Sturbaum who had tofigure it out for himself. Chris learnedfrom the old carpenters, not directlyby demonstration and verbal admoni-tion, but indirectly. He discovered thetricks of the trade by dismantling oldhouses, by analyzing the things beforehim, as John James analyzed the stones of Chartres, as city kids analyzed scratchy wax recordings, learning how to bring the folk music of thepast into new vitality. Through trial and error, teachinghimself from the samples in his hands, Chris revived expired techniques, developing a new tradition with his Restoration carpenter and historic preservation specialist Chris Sturbaum ofGolden Hands Construction, Bloomington, Indiana. Photo by Henry eiassic brother Ben and their witty team of workers - GoldenHands, they call themselves.Modest wooden houses, brought into new life byGolden Hands, bless the little city of Bloomington,Indiana, providing color and comfort, making the placehabitable, human, worth defending. And the carpenterChris Sturbaum has expanded his responsibilities, becom-ing a spokesman for his cause, contending eloquentlythat historic preservation is a way to neighborliness, ameans for stabilizing the community in sanity, quality,and remembrance. We stand together, Chris and 1, servingon a mayoral commission, working for affordable housing with our friends in Bloomington Restorations,Incorporated, testifying before municipal boards, consis-tently resisting the greedy reach of developers who lack all sense of the place, its people and their needs.We will know no final victory, for greed has no limit.Mobile homes will roll into the wooded hills, the suburbs will spread with the pestilence of tacky mansions, cities will be eviscerated on behalf of bland glass towers. Butthere is some consolation in knowing that, in many loca-tions, old masters still teach the young and direct the construction of buildings fit to the place, that workers still find pride in their diminished positions on sites of rackety construction, that some architects have recognized that passages of handcraft can enhance theelegance of their new projects, and that post-hippie carpenters can rediscover the virtues of tradition, making old houses new in a world distracted by technopopextravagance and slouching toward the bottom line. The hand of master blacksmith Philip Simmons of Charleston, South Carolina.Photo by Mannie Garcia ? 1996, feprinted with permission from the Phihp Simmons FounrJation, Inc. Suggested Reading Brand, Stewart. 1994. How Buildings Learn: What Happens AfterThey're Built. New York: Penguin Books. Fitch, James Marston. 1982. Historic Preservation: CuratorialManagement of the Built World. New York: McGraw-Hill. Glassie, Henry, 1976. Folk Housing in Middle Virginia: A StructuralAnalysis of Historic Artifacts. Knoxville: University of TennesseePress. . 1993. Turkish Traditional Art Today. Bloomington: IndianaUniversity Press. . 2000. Vernacular Architecture. Bloomington: Indiana UniversityPress; Philadelphia: Material Culture. Hunt, Marjorie. 1999. The Stone Carvers: Master Craftsmen ofWashington National Cathedral. Washington, D.C.: SmithsonianInstitution Press. James, John, 1982. Chartres: The Masons Who Built a Legend, tondon:Routledge and Kegan Paul. Kuban, Dogan. 1997. Sinan's Art and Selimiye. Istanbul: Economicand Social History Foundation. Kuran, Aptullah. 1985. Sinan: The Grand Old Master of OttomanArchitecture. Washington, D.C.: Institute of Turkish Studies. Ruskin, John. 1892. The Nature of Gothic. Hammersmith: Kelmscott Press. Upton, Dell. 1998. /\rc/)/fecfure in the United States. Oxford: OxfordUniversity Press. Vlach, John Michael. 1992. Charleston Blacksmith: The Work of PhilipSimmons. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press. Henry Glassie is College Professor of Folklore and Chairman of NearEastern Languages and Cultures at Indiana University. His major booksinclude Pattern in the Material Folk Culture of the Eastern United States,Folk Housing in Middle Virginia, Passing the Time in Ballymenone, Irish Folktales, The Spirit of Folk Art, Turkish Traditional Art Today,Art and Life in Bangladadesh, and Material Culture. 6? sevenxH Annual RaLPH Rinzier Memorial concerxRaLPH RinzLer ^^and tn by Bernice Johnson ReagonIt was probably 1966, and Ralph Rinzler wassetting up bis tape recorder in my apartmentto play me some of the Cajun music he hadrecorded on his recent field trip to southwestLouisiana. 1 had heard a Cajun group at the lastNewport Festival 1 had attended. 1 rememberedthe group of White men singing songs inFrench at what was to my ears an unusually high pitch,accompanied by accordion and fiddle. However, when 1heard the music coming from Ralph's recorder, 1 got reallyconfused and worried. It sounded nothing like the Cajungroup 1 had heard at Newport. It actually sounded Black.Finally, 1 couldn't stand it any more, and 1 said, "Ralph,this sounds Black!" "Oh, it is Black Cajun music," hedeclared, and went on to tell me about his meeting withBois Sec Ardoin and Canray Fontenot from southwestLouisiana and a rich Black French community-based working-class culture that included wonderful dancemusic and a tradition where dance did not stop with age,where everyone danced, from the young children to the elders of the community. 1 spent that evening listening tomusic from a tradition 1 had never heard of before, and itwas indicative of the relationship 1 would form withRalph over the next three decades, always being invitedto learn more even as 1 worked to share African American culture with a larger public. This year's concert, "The Bernice Johnson ReagonSong Family: Continuum ofSongs, Singing, and Struggle," on Saturday, June 3o, is curatedby Bernice Johnson Reagon andfeatures the SNCG Freedom Singers, Sweet Honey InThe Rock, and Toshi Reagon and Big Lovely. 68 smiTHSonianFOLKLIFe FesTivaL Sweet Honey In The Rock at the "African Diaspora Program" of the 1975 Folklife Festival. From left to right: Evelyn M. Harris, Patricia Johnson, Carol Lynn Maillard, 69Louise Robinson, and Bernice Johnson Reagon. Looking on: Toshi Reagon (far left), James Early, and Miriam Early. Photo * Smithsonian institution During the mid-'60s Ralph Rinzler was a part of whatbecame known as the folk revival. Young musicians per-forming music from older cultures and songwriters creat-ing topical songs about a society challenging itself about race and war dominated the popular music industry andwere a vital part of mainstream youth culture. 1 enteredthat worid as an activist and singer with the FreedomSingers of the Student Non-Violent CoordinatingCommittee (SNCC). The Movement sound of unaccompa- nied Black congregational singing and powerful oral testi-monies, speech-making, and preaching made its way intoAmerican homes not via commercial recordings and Top40 radio as much as the television and radio news storiesabout Southern-based organizing efforts.Ralph, working then on the staff of the NewportFolk Festival, was one of the leaders who worked tirelesslywith others like Guy Carawan to be sure that the newer 70 Ralph Rinzler and Dixon Palmer (Kiowa) at an early Festival.Photo ? Smithsonian Institution generation of musicians operated in an environmentwhere we shared with each other at festivals, conferences,and community sings called hootenannies. Crucial to thiswork was expanding what we knew about the music wewere singing, and in most of these gatherings we had the rare opportunity to meet and listen to older musicianswho were still around doing wonderful music. TheMoving Star Hall Singers, Georgia Sea Island Singers,Mississippi Fred McDowell, Bukka White, Skip James, theBalfa Brothers, Son House, Almeda Riddle, Dock Reedwere people 1 heard for the first rime while performing as a member of the Freedom Singers or as a soloist, atNewport, Philadelphia, and other folk festivals that beganduring that time. I also met the topical songwriters LenChandler, Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs, Tom Paxton, as well asJoan Baez, Judy Collins, Richie Havens, Hedy West, JackieWashington, Sparky Rucker, the New Lost City Ramblers, Dave Van Ronk, and Taj Mahal.In 1968, in the aftermath of the assassination of Rev.Martin Luther King, Jr., Ralph had moved to Washingtonto develop a new national festival. And with JamesMorris, director of the Smithsonian's new Division ofPerforming Arts, he invited me along with Julius Lester tocome to the Smithsonian for a meeting to discuss ways inwhich their work could reach out to the local community,which was largely African American. The Smithsonian was at the time opening a neighborhood museum inSoutheast D.C., but they were concerned about theabsence of Black people among the Mall museums' visi- tors. We talked about the need to have Black people rep- resented on all levels of the work, and that especiallymeant the staff level. Lester talked about the environ-ment of D.C. after the assassination of Dr. King and the upheavals that followed. He said it was important thatthe Mall feel open and not guarded the way marches and rallies were. "There cannot be any police! You cannot be provide a symbolic cultural context to the presentarionthat captured some visual energy of the community that created and nurtured the traditions. So that year I heardthe music and saw the dances, I learned about the role of corn as food and as elemental to the culture, and I sawNative Americans build a tepee.As 1 moved on, I heard the Moving Star Hall Singersfrom Johns Island, South Carolina, performing on aFestival stage, but there was no deeper context to Black culture surrounding them. When 1 returned home, Ibegan to sketch out an idea that 1 called "Black Musicthrough the Languages of the New Worid." For English 1recommended the Moving Star Hall Singers and aPentecostal gospel group from Atlanta. For French 1wanted the Black Cajun musicians Ralph had introducedme to from southwest Louisiana. Ralph suggested theRodriguez Brothers from Cuba for Americans who were apart of an African Spanish culture. He listened to myconcept and was not at all sure about the Pentecostal I had found mv own around.and the place in which that had happened had been madepossible in large part by the visionary work of Ralph Rinzler,the man we celebrate at this Festivalwith this memorial concert in his name. afraid to have Black people on the Mall!" We talkedabout programming, and being sure to do research withinthe region and with the local communiries. Early the nextyear, Ralph called and asked me to create a program forthe Festival. I told him 1 had to see it first; they broughtme in during the summer, and 1 witnessed my firstSmithsonian Folklife Festival.The Festival was then on the upper Mall. The firstthing I saw as 1 came near was a small field of com and next to the field several Indian tepees. This was not likeany festival 1 had ever witnessed. Ralph talked about theconcept of a narional celebration of the folk and com-munity culture of the country. He believed that it was soimportant for this Festival to not only feature perform-ances of music and dance, but also material culture, thethings that people made that were signatures as sure asany song or dance. There should also be an effort to choir; he thought they might be too powerful for theFolklife Festival. This choir was powerful; they sanggospel and used a Hammond organ. 1 told him that theywere a part of urban Black community-based culture, and it was so important for them to be present. Ralph was very oriented to acousrical music and was not surewhether some of the more powerful Black urban forms fitinto the balanced sound environment he envisioned forthe Festival. Although not totally sure about some of myideas, Ralph approved the concept and gave me my first experience with the Smithsonian Fesrival as a researcherand programmer.One of my biggest lessons came in conversation withthe Rodriguez Brothers, one of whom was Arsenio, con- sidered the father of Afro-Cuban music. When 1 started to explain the program saying that they would be represent-ing Spanish-language Black culture, I was stopped. "No! We are from Cuba and we speak Spanish, but our songsand drumming are not Spanish! This is African! Lucumi!African!" 1 was delighted to be corrected, and the experi-ence of learning live and on the ground became an inte-gral part of my work of creating new ways to presentAfrican American culture.Ralph was serious about opening up the Smithsonianto American cultures and audiences, but he felt it would not happen unless there were changes in the program- matic staff. When 1 moved to Washington to do my grad- uate work at Howard University, 1 met the late GeraldDavis, a folklorist whom Ralph had brought in as assis-tant director of the Festival. Davis created an advisoryboard of scholars in African American culture to look atthe plans for the Bicentennial Festival of AmericanFolklife. There was a concept of "Old Ways in the NewWorid," but there was not yet a distinct program forAfrican Americans. We gathered in a meeting: JamesEarly, Jeff Donaldson, Daniel Ben-Amos, Peari Williams-Jones, Halim El Dabb, A. B. Spelman, and Fela Sowandefleshed out the structure of a program we called the "African Diaspora Program."The result was a 1 2-week program of AfricanAmerican performance and material culture presented as a part of a worid family of culture based in Africa andextending to the Caribbean and Larin America to theUnited States. The Bicentennial Festival involved one ofthe largest field research projects in American local com- munities and their home cultures on other conrinents.Our program put together teams of African American andAfrican researchers in six African countries - Senegal,Liberia, Zaire, Ghana, Cape Verde, and Nigeria; and jointteams in the Caribbean and Latin American countries ofTrinidad and Tobago, Haiti, Brazil, Jamaica, and Surinam.In the United States, research was conducted in Blackcommunities in Washington, D.C., Maryland, SouthCarolina, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New York,Chicago, Tennessee, Louisiana, Georgia, Alabama, andMississippi.For 12 weeks on the Narional Mall, there was atrue invitation to African Americans to come to theSmithsonian. The invitation was issued on the mostcomplex level, in advisors, production staff, conceptual-ization, opportunities for African American scholars for research, and programming that many in folklore andethnomusicology said could not be done effectively. And they came, Americans from all over the nation and especially from the local communities. There were AfricanAmericans who came to the Mall every day for the wholecourse of the Festival to be with themselves in thecommunity we created. They learned more about AfricanAmerica even as they made welcome those who came sofar across geography and time to help form and share aninternational Black community on the Mall in celebrationof the 200th anniversary of the nation's birth. It was my baptism of fire, working with the supportof a strong team of advisors and researchers, and as apart of the leadership team with Rosie Lee Hooks andJames Early, 1 used everything 1 knew 1 had and discov- ered much more than I had ever known before. And when it was over, 1 knew 1 had just begun, 1 had found mywork as a scholar in this worid. 1 had found my ownground, and the place in which that had happened hadbeen made possible in large part by the visionary work ofRalph Rinzler, the man we celebrate at this Festival withthis memorial concert in his name.When 1 think about the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, 1 feel that at its best it is a place we can come asAmericans and rehearse being temporarily a part ofknowing the range and complexity of this land. You walkdown the Mall in wonder and think - all of this is alsoAmerica? This Festival is where 1 began to formulate the role a museum can play within a culture. It can assist a nation to come to terms with itself. Ours is a young land,and we are still very much at the beginning of playingout a living dialogue about this country being a narionof many peoples and many cultures, and dealing with the anxiety that seems to appear at the idea of letring go ofthe erroneous myth of this as a White country. RalphRinzler worked to be sure the Smithsonian would be apart of that dialogue. Bernice Johnson Reagon, singer, composer, producer, and scholar, is curator emerita at the Smithsonian National Museum ofAmericanHistory and Distinguished Professor of History at AmericanUniversity. She serves on the Smithsonian Center for Folklife andCultural Heritage Advisory Board and worked as a scholar and curator at the Smithsonian for 20 years, founding the Program in AfricanAmerican Culture. She is also founder of the Washington-baseda cappella quintet, Sweet Honey In The Rock. 72 AcrossceneraxionsA cenTenniaL xriBUTe to Marcarex Mcao by Mary Catherine Batesonhen Margaret Mead wrote inQuiture and Commitment aboutthe new relationships between thegenerations that were emerging inthe last decades of her life, shededicated the book to "My father'smother and my daughter's daughter," celebrating the transmission of tradition, face to face andhand to hand, across five generations. Quoting her friendRalph Blum in her autobiography. Blackberry Winter, shespoke of this time span as the human unit of time, "the space between a grandfather's memory of his own child-hood and a grandson's knowledge of those memories ashe heard about them" and could pass them on again. The Festival this year celebrates the hundredth anniversary of Margaret Mead's birth with a concert on July i that highlights the transmission of culture across generations. Margaret Mead at the 1976 Folklife Festival.Photo ^ Smithsonian Institution The most famous anthropologist of the 20th century, she could compare the direct transmission of tradition,from one storyteller to another or from one artist to another, as she observed it among preliterate peoples,to the additional kinds of transmission we have today with writing and recorded images and sound, and valueboth. She was devoted to the Smithsonian FolklifeFestival, which in its own way parallels her lifework:making sure that the wisdom of the earth's unwrittentraditions, the many ways of surviving and celebratingand being human, would feed into contemporary life for all peoples, and would remain available and treasuredfor the lettered and cosmopolitan grandchildren of thepeoples she had studied. ... [T]he continuity of all cultures depends on the living presence of atleast three generations. ? Culture and Commitment, 1970 73 Three generations: Margaret Mead, Mary Catherine Bateson, and Sevanne Margaret Kassarjian in 1975. Photo by Poiyxant s Cobb Margaret Mead was bom in 1901, so this year is thecentennial of her birth and an appropriate time to lookback and make sure that what was most important in herwork has been passed on since her death in 1978. Onesuch area was her study of cultural attitudes towardschange. In the United States today the very concept ofinnovation is part of what is passed on: we teach our children that they can move beyond their parents and dosomething new with their skills. This acceptance ofchange has become as much a part of tradition as a good recipe or the circle games that children play.Mead also played a key role in the transmission ofthe anthropological concept of "culture" from a smallBecause as adults [grandparents] have lived through so much change. . . tlichange. [GJrandparents can give children a special sense of sureness abothey represent continuity. But now, in a changing society, this continuity ii We must create new models for adults who can teach their childrennot what to learn, but how to learn and not what they should becommitted to, but the value of commitment. Culture and Commitment, 1970 As an anthropologist, Mead had beentrained to think in terms of theinterconnection of all aspects of human life. The production of food cannot be separated from ritual and belief, andpolitics cannot be separated from child-rearing or art. This holisticunderstanding of human adaptation allowed Mead to speak out on a verywide range of issues. She affirmed thepossibility of learning from othergroups, above all by the knowledge she brought back from the field andthe way she applied it. Thus, sheinsisted that human diversity is a resource, not a handicap, that allhuman beings have the capacity tolearn from and teach each other. community of scholars to the entire reading and listeningpublic of this country and beyond, and was a pioneer in applying anthropological concepts and methods toWestern societies. Today, while anthropologists still argueabout its exact meaning, "culture" has become a house-hold word, one that we use whenever we seek to under- stand the behavior and values of other communitiesinstead of condemning them. All human beings are very similar biologically, andtheir differences in belief and behavior are developed andpassed on through culture. Culture includes all those aspects of life that are transmitted not through the genesbut through the human activities of learning and teach- ing. This includes dance steps and ways of making aliving, tools and lullabies, ways of understanding the world and ways of distinguishing good from evil and such values as innovation, preservation, or change.An understanding of culture - with respect for human cultures in all their variations - is essential to livingtogether at peace on this planet, combating racism, andfinding the flexibility to plan for a better future. Mary Catherine Bateson is President of the Institute for InterculturalStudies, founded by her mother Margaret Mead, and Clarence J.Robinson Professor of Anthropology and English at George MasonUnipersit\'. :nay well be the best people to teach children aboutcing the unknown in the future. . . . As in the past,udes the future and acceptance of the unknown. - Margaret Mead: Some Personal Views, 1979 75 "'31 f. SJJKContents ^^^^V^^^^l Services and Hours ^ FESTIVAL HOURS ' The Opening Ceremony for the Festival takes place atthe New York City Music Ste^^^^M"-' Wednesday-June 27. Thereafter, Festival5:30 p.m. daily, with evening events to 9 p.m. ^ ~(7 p.m. on July 4).FESTIVAL SALESTraditional Mew York City and Bermudian food is sold.See the site map on page 110-111 for locations.A variety of crafts, books, and Smithsonian Folkways recordings related to the Festival are sold in the FestivalMarketplace on the Mall-side lawn of the NationalMuseum of American History.PRESSVisiting members of the press should register at the PressTent on the Mall near Madison Drive and 1 2th Street.FIRST AIDA first aid station is located near the Administration areaon the Mall at Madison Drive and 1 2th Street.RESTROOMS & TELEPHONESThere are outdoor facilities for the public and visitors with disabilities located near all of the program areas onthe Mall. Additional restroom facilities are available ineach of the museum buildings during visiting hours. Public telephones are available on the site, opposite theNational Museums of American History and NaturalHistorv, and inside the museums. LOST & FOUND/LOST PEOPLELost items may be turned in or retrieved at the VolunteerTent near the Administration area at 1 2th Street near;Madison Drive. Lost family members may be claimed ati^Volunteer Tent.METRO STATIONS ' " ?Metro trains will be running every day of the Festival. TheFestival site is easily accessible from the Smithsonian andFederal Triangle stations on the Blue and Orange Lines.SERVICES FOR VISITORS WITH DISABILITIESTo make the Festival more accessible to visitors who aredeaf or hard of hearing, audio loops are installed in themain music tent in each program area. Sign-languageinterpreters are on site every day of the Festival. Checkthe printed schedule and signs for interpreted programs.Special requests for interpreters should be made at theVolunteer Tent. Service animals are welcome. Oral inter-preters are available for individuals if a request is madethree full days in advance. Call 202.275.0572 (TTY) or202.275.1905 (voice). Large-print copies of the daily schedule and audio- cassette versions of the program book are available atFestival information kiosks and the Volunteer Tent.A limited number of wheelchairs are available at theVolunteer Tent. Volunteers are on call to assist wheelchair users and to guide visitors with visual impairments. There are a few designated parking spaces for visitors withdisabilities along both Mall drives. These spaces havethree-hour time restrictions. BermuDaconnecTionsArts of the SeaChris Flook, specimen collector; Smith'sLisa Haynes, Seagull racer/boat builder; HamiltonLlewellyn Hollis, fisherman; PembrokeMichael Hooper, model boat maker; WarwickNick Hutchings, diver; SomersetRoyle Kemp, sailor; SouthamptonAnson Nash, boat builderGeorge Outerbridge, glass bottom boat guide;St. George'sAmanda Petty, Seagull racer/boat builder;WarwickAndrew Petty Seagull racer; PembrokeMike Tatem, fitted dinghy sailor; SandysTim Ward, Seagull racer/ boat builder;St. George'sAlexandra West, sail maker/repairer;Shelly BayArts of the LandJoanne Adams, herbalist; SouthamptonTeddy Burgess, builder; PagetEddie Cattell, home gardener; FlattsTony DaCosta, builderColeridge Fubler, builder, SouthamptonRandy Furbert, beekeeper; CrawlAndre Hubbard, furniture maker/restorer; FlattsAltino Lopes, builder; PagetLarry Mills, builder; SouthamptonTrevor Mills, builder; SouthamptonJulian Van Lowe, builder; WarwickTom Wadson, farmer; SouthamptonElizabeth Wingate, ornamental homegardener; WarwickArts of HospitaHtyBetty Grant, floral arrangerJane Greene, guest house owner/manager;SouthamptonShawn Lekki, show bartender; HamiltonFred Ming, chef; Hamilton ParishFernanda Pacheco, cook; St. David'sMuriel Richardson-Greaves, guest housemanager; PembrokeLaguita Trew, home baker; SomersetCarvel Van Putten, bell captain/perfumer;HamiltonJudith Wadson, foodways; SandysShirley White, candy maker; PagetArts of PlayMatilda Caines, doll maker; Smith'sJudith James, teacher/children's games; PagetFlorenz Webbe Maxwell, storyteller; WarwickAl Seymour Jr., kite maker; SandysAl Seymour Sr., kite maker/cricketer; DevonshireAntoine Simons, kite maker; SomersetVincent Tuzo, kite maker; Paget Family and CommunityConnectionsJoe Almeida, Portuguese home decorating; FlattsLisa Almeida, Portuguese holiday crafts; FlattsJolene Bean, genealogist/family folklorist;SomersetViolet Brangman, lodge traditions/oralhistorian; PembrokeCarlos Brum, Azorean home/holiday traditions;PagetNatalia Brum, Azorean home/holidaytraditions; PagetYeaton Outerbridge, family business/foodways/family historian; HamiltonGloria Pearman, home/holiday decoration/homehospitality; SomersetJoy Wilson Tucker, Bermudian communitytraditions; PembrokeCraftsRonnie Chameau, banana doll maker;St. David'sLlewellyn Emery, cedar carver; HamiltonGenevieve Escolastica, crochet artist; PagetFred Phillips, furniture maker/restorer; WarwickChesley Trott, cedar carver; SouthamptonJanice Tucker, Gombey costume maker/herbalist; PembrokeArts of PerformanceGita Blakeney, vocals; HamiltonGeneman (Marvin Stovell), reggae singer;WarwickLeyoni Junos, vocals; HamiltonRunksie (Philando Hill), reggae singer; FlattsGene Steede, Calypsonian; PembrokeApex 4 Quaktet; Hamilton ParishEric Whitter, group leader/vocalsGary Bean, vocalsHarry Bean, vocalsRobert Symonds, vocalsBermuda StrollersTed Ming, leader; SouthamptionHerman Burch, bass guitar; WarwickJohn Burch, lead guitar; WarwickMichael Cupidore, steel pan; DevonshireJames Martinez, steel pan; DevonshireGladstone Ming, congos; SouthamptonJazMike Stowe, leader; Bailey's BayStephan Ahknaton, keyboard; HamiltonDennis Francis, bass; SouthamptonJade Minors, saxophone; St. George'sDayton Wharton, guitar; Smith'sMosaicGary Phillips, spoken word; PagetGrace Rawlins, spoken word; St. David'sRuth Thomas, spoken word; SouthamptonNot THE Um-Um PlayersBruce Barritt, satirist/spoken word; DevonshireFred Barritt, satirist/spoken word; PembrokeChris Broadhurst, satirist/spoken word;Hinson's Island Peter Smith, satirist/spoken word; WarwickTim Taylor, satirist/spoken word; DevonshirePlace's GombeysAndre Place, captain/dancer; DevonshireDion Ball Jr., drums; CrawlGlenville DeShields, dancer;Kyree A. Dillas, dancer; PembrokeJahdeko Fubler, dancer; HamiltonTafari Mallory, dancer; DevonshireAndre Parsons, lead drum; Shelly BayLeoshawon Place, dancer; Smith'sShaun Place, dancer/drums; WarwickStevon Somersall, 2nd chief/dancer; CrawlDelmair D. Trott, chief/dancer; PembrokeDenton Trott, bow and arrow leader/dancer;PembrokeShine H.^\"*ard: HamiltonWendell "Shine" Hayward, saxophoneAnthony Bicchieri, pianoEugene Joell, guitarVernon Tucker, drumsEugene Tuzo, bassJohnny Woolridge, pianoTrunk II and Fires of Aerica: DevonshireDeverux "Truneh" Flood, lead vocals/percussionMaxinne Burch, vocalsKristos Ingham, vocalsStamford Jackson, drumsCarlos Richardson, keyboardist/lead guitarSidney Simmons, bassWarner GombeysAllan Warner, captain/dancer, St. David'sBilal Binns, dancer; SandysEldridge Burrows, 2nd vice captain; HamiltonDavid Darrell, drums; PembrokeWilfred Furbert, drums/dancer; PembrokeGerkimo Gardiner, dancer; DevonshireAndre Simons, vice captain/dancer; PembrokeWillis A. Steede, dancer; PembrokeWillis 0. Steede, drums; PembrokeMarcus Tucker, dancer; PagetWilliam L Warner, drums/dancer; SandysRobert Wilson, captain/dancer; HamiltonArts of CelebrationBermuda Pipe Band; St. GeorgesDavid Frith, leaderJoel CassidyGeorge CookeJosh SimonsBermuda Regiment BandBarrett Dill, bandmasterDeonnie BenjaminAllan BrownNeilson DeGraffAndre EsdailleAlfred FurbertStyles FurbertWayne FurbertPhilip PitmanJohn RichardsOrin Simmons 78 Maclarien SmithAidan StonesCarmen TrottJohn Van-LoweDwayne WilliamsStanley WardCricket LegendsColin Blades, captain/batsman/radiocommentator; PagetGladstone Brown, opening batsman;SouthamptonAllan Douglas, cricket coach/wiclnU. IT TACB 'TIL BS KKWS T?AT TOO WW POPLB BAVT DIBTHE ABSifES, !fT PPtlBS. ?e. Let these CDs be your inspiration Smithsonian Folkways Recordings Available from record and book stores, on-line, or mail order. Featured music includes American Indian, Bluegrass, Blues, Children's, Classical, Folk, Jazz, Protest, World, Spoken Word, and more. Free catalogues. 800.410.9815, 202.375.1143, folkways@aol.com www.si.edu/folkways SmithSON IAN rOLKWAYS "discover a world of sound" ^t'""'"*^ EVERY TONE ATESTiMO\Y HONEYBOY EDWARDS: MISSISSIPPIDELTA BLUESMANDavid "Honeyboy" Edwards' stiHng-snapping guitar riffs and soulful voiceharken back to his friends and teachersf>harle> Patton, Big Joe Williams, andRobert Johnson. Originally released onFolkvva>s Records in 1979. theserecordings capture Edwards in arelaxed, acoustic solo session. "Essential listening."- CMJ EVERY TONE A TESTIMONY:AN AFRICAN AMERICAN AURALHISTORYThis double CD draws upon thecollection at the SmithsonianFolkways archive to create a histor>'of African American life and culturein sound. The sounds collected hereare testimony to the power, creativity,and resilience of Black expressiveforms that ha\e received recognitionthroughout the world. KEVIN BURKE: Sweeney's Dream;FIDDLE TUNES FROM COUNTY SLICO,IRELANDSweeny's Dream captures Burke'sstunning Sligo style of Irish fiddlingduring his earliest years in the I I.S.,before he became widely known forhis work in such groups as TheBothy Band, Open House, andPatrick Street. "...Probably the greatest Irish fiddlerliving." -The Village Voice BOSAVI: RAINFOREST MUSICFROM PAPUA NEW GUINEAl^xperience a sonic journey of theHosavi people. Modem guitarbands, rainforest soundscapes,and sacred ritual make this 3-CDanthology the most complete andintimate portrait ever of life in aPapua New Guinea rainforestcommunity. "What an amazing gift to the worldthese recordings are."-Mickey Hart RED ALLEN: THE FOLKWAYS YEARS1964-1983, FEATURING FRANKWAKEFIELDThe late Red .Allen is consideredto be one of the most importantexponents of the "high, lonesomesound," the epitome of bluegrasssinging. This collection presents theclassic 1964 Allen and Wakefieldrelease Bluegrass, plus six never-released cuts and additionalselections from four later Folkwaysalbums. THE COUNTRY GENTLEMEN:ON THE ROAD (and More)Presenting a rare glimpse ofThe Country Gentlemen as theyappeared on stage at the peak oftheir creativity, this album iscomprised of excei-pts from twolive concerts recorded in 1962-1963,plus six never-before-released bonustracks recorded in 1961 at theband's appearance at Carnegie Hall. Smithsonian Folkways Recordings Available from record and book stores, mall order, andthe internet. Featured music includes American Indian,Bluegrass, Blues, Children's, Classical, Folk, Jazz,Protest, World, Spoken Word, and more. Call to place an order or request a free catalog.800.410.9815folkways@)aol.comwww. s i ,ed u /fo I kways Smithsonian FolMife Festival National Museum of American History IVIADISON DRIVE New York Cily Caribbean Cuisi to Washington iVIonument Marketplace ? New York City at the Smithsonian \i ^ > , - "^^^^ Community'Fdihion Flouf.Water&CulluiM.innequin reel Lift Dell Tent Kifi m]X\f^^^ An ot Window Display Smithsonian(Mall Exit) First Aid JEFFERSON DRIVE .Lr-onthe National Mall, Washington, D.C. National Museum of Natural History 'Masters of the -Building Artsm DiicussionStage Resoialion CarpenT';iiN ,^lDecorative [/ \ I Stone Letlereri/ 'Painters ' Byzdn line -style VictorianWoodcarver^ Porch Hawaiian Dry Stack Slon.,..,..^ Iiingtori ^ly .,mWdihNationalCathedral \><\ m m s ixi?: Pieservatjon Blacksmith Plasterer' tia^ ? pssi* BERMUDACONNECTIONSNEWYORKCITYattheSMITHSONIAN MASTERS oftheBUILDINGARTS