Museum gets totem pole newly carved in ancient wood
http://dervishcom.blogspot.com/2012/01/museum-gets-totem-pole-newly-carved-in.html
Piece by piece, the curls of wood have fallen from the ancient log to the floor at David A. Boxley’s feet.
Little by little, his adze and knife have carved from the fragrant cedar the image of the eagle, who was saved by the young Indian; the chief whose village was, in turn, saved by the eagle; and the people, who were spared by the cycle of good deeds.
This week, in the Potomac Atrium of the Smithsonian’s Museum of the American Indian, the renowned 59-year-old Tsimshian totem carver and his son, David R. Boxley, 30, are re-creating the magical story in a 22-foot-long, 2,500-pound pole.
And in this season of Congressional gridlock and political bitterness, the Boxleys hope the old Northwest fable of gratitude and benevolence may be a public tonic when the pole is raised in the museum a few blocks from the Capitol.
But mainly the huge totem — prone for now as the artists finish it — is a message from the carvers, and the museum, that their culture has survived, despite a century of crushing obstacles.
“There’s few of us,” the elder Boxley said. “But we’re alive and well. We wanted to let people know we’re alive and well.”
Indeed, the “heathen” culture of the Tsimshian — pronounced sim-she-AN — had been so damaged by Western ways that he had to learn totem carving not from his elders, but by reading books and visiting museums.
“The native culture didn’t exist when I was growing up in my village,” he said as he sat beside the totem one day last week, carving under the light of a bright floor lamp. “The missionaries and the government had been too successful.”
It is a harsh and familiar story for many Native Americans, whose cultures were trampled by expansion, racism and oppression. The mission of the museum is to celebrate what survives, still thrives, or can be restored.
The museum commissioned the totem pole about six months ago, selecting the elder Boxley, who has carved 69 poles in 32 years. This is his 70th.
“Almost anywhere you go, where there’s a major exposition of Northwest coast — particularly Alaskan coast — art, David . . . and his art are there,” said museum director Kevin Gover. “It just made sense, since we don’t have any Tsimshian materials on display, that we would go to David.”
The museum said that for business purposes, the artist did not want the commission fee publicized, adding that the price was well within its budget. Plus, the elder Boxley said, money is “not why we’re doing it.”
Months in the making
The pole was partially carved last fall in his studio in Kingston, Wash., northwest of Seattle. It was shipped via tractor-trailer to the museum, where it arrived Tuesday swathed in cargo blankets and plastic sheeting.
The two men are now completing the carving and painting, and the pole is scheduled to be unveiled Saturday.
On Wednesday, as they used special knives to slice into the pale grain of the wood, the Boxleys talked about their endangered culture, the lore of totem carving, and the legend of the eagle and the chieftain.
Spread on nearby tables was an array of carving knives, chisels and sharpening strops, and a large box of Band-Aids. There were also paintbrushes and containers of black and red paint — the traditional Tsimshian colors.
Little by little, his adze and knife have carved from the fragrant cedar the image of the eagle, who was saved by the young Indian; the chief whose village was, in turn, saved by the eagle; and the people, who were spared by the cycle of good deeds.
This week, in the Potomac Atrium of the Smithsonian’s Museum of the American Indian, the renowned 59-year-old Tsimshian totem carver and his son, David R. Boxley, 30, are re-creating the magical story in a 22-foot-long, 2,500-pound pole.
And in this season of Congressional gridlock and political bitterness, the Boxleys hope the old Northwest fable of gratitude and benevolence may be a public tonic when the pole is raised in the museum a few blocks from the Capitol.
But mainly the huge totem — prone for now as the artists finish it — is a message from the carvers, and the museum, that their culture has survived, despite a century of crushing obstacles.
“There’s few of us,” the elder Boxley said. “But we’re alive and well. We wanted to let people know we’re alive and well.”
Indeed, the “heathen” culture of the Tsimshian — pronounced sim-she-AN — had been so damaged by Western ways that he had to learn totem carving not from his elders, but by reading books and visiting museums.
“The native culture didn’t exist when I was growing up in my village,” he said as he sat beside the totem one day last week, carving under the light of a bright floor lamp. “The missionaries and the government had been too successful.”
It is a harsh and familiar story for many Native Americans, whose cultures were trampled by expansion, racism and oppression. The mission of the museum is to celebrate what survives, still thrives, or can be restored.
The museum commissioned the totem pole about six months ago, selecting the elder Boxley, who has carved 69 poles in 32 years. This is his 70th.
“Almost anywhere you go, where there’s a major exposition of Northwest coast — particularly Alaskan coast — art, David . . . and his art are there,” said museum director Kevin Gover. “It just made sense, since we don’t have any Tsimshian materials on display, that we would go to David.”
The museum said that for business purposes, the artist did not want the commission fee publicized, adding that the price was well within its budget. Plus, the elder Boxley said, money is “not why we’re doing it.”
Months in the making
The pole was partially carved last fall in his studio in Kingston, Wash., northwest of Seattle. It was shipped via tractor-trailer to the museum, where it arrived Tuesday swathed in cargo blankets and plastic sheeting.
The two men are now completing the carving and painting, and the pole is scheduled to be unveiled Saturday.
On Wednesday, as they used special knives to slice into the pale grain of the wood, the Boxleys talked about their endangered culture, the lore of totem carving, and the legend of the eagle and the chieftain.
Spread on nearby tables was an array of carving knives, chisels and sharpening strops, and a large box of Band-Aids. There were also paintbrushes and containers of black and red paint — the traditional Tsimshian colors.
