I have been a bit absent from ISV, not for lack of wanting to give it 100%, but at times my attention is pulled this way n’ that although never too far away. Thanks to all who continue to visit during my lulls. The weather in New York has been bitter and keeping me from spending more time in the Country and out “hunting”.
I love New York for its colors which are always so telling of a season and its particular mood at the moment. I feel fortunate right now when I see patches of snow, thinking how rarely patchy snow actually exists and what an aesthetic beauty it lends. Every elemental detail of a weather system makes for new experiences of familiar places.
A scene from Ward Pound Ridge Reservation during a January visit.
Couldn’t care about how dusty the car got that day, although the dirt kicking up could be heard over the music of the radio.
Soft colors. Although a few leaves hang on, both fall and spring seem a long way off in either direction.
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For those living in or nearby Brooklyn, I’ll be indulging myself in one of my distractions this Thursday night at Coco66 where I’ll be DJing a dance party. Please come by and say hello!
More Navajo, not a big deal. Thanks to Jeff for passing along this exceptional clip.
Formerly the most valuable appraisal to ever appear on the U.S. broadcast of the Antiques Roadshow, but knocked into 2nd place in January 2009, and then into 3rd place in January 2010.
For still more information on weavings and especially the First Phase of the Navajo craft, try the wonderful Navaho Weaving: Its Technic and History, first published in 1934. (Thanks to TT for gifting me my very special old edition, endearingly laden with typos.)
FUN UPDATE: See Andy’s post on the fir$t and $econd place Antiques Roadshow moments here.
More on the Navajo! I think you know by now that this is a little something of an obsession. So here we go:
The First Phase of Navajo silver craft is considered to have taken place between 1868* and 1900, and characterized by the Native Americans making silver solely for their own traditional use. The Transitional period took place immediately following the First Phase from about 1900-1930 which developed as the tourist market for Indian craft dominated production. New styles were practiced and, so, the First Phase ended. Some of these new styles included Harvey jewelry (like these little numbers from post #109 and #110 fame) which were much lighter, thus easier to produce en masse, and very popular with the ladies. Some silversmiths, though, continued to make the simple, heavy styles of the First Phase throughout the thirty or so years of the Transitional period.
* When, after Kit Carson forced surrender to the U.S. Government on the Navajo, driving them from their land and ravaging their homes in what became known as The Long Walk, the Navajo people were allowed to return to a reservation that consisted of a portion of their former nation.
The term First Phase (and the later eras thereafter, Second Phase, Third Phase…) is most commonly applied to the concho belt, which might also be the most recognizable item in the Navajo arsenal. The First Phase concho belt is characterized by simple, heavy round silver conchos with a center slot opening for bridle leather to slip through.
Hopi Man in a Navajo First Phase concho belt. Taken in 1907 at the Hopi Village of Hano, AZ during a traditional ceremony. The Hopis traded eagerly with their Navajo neighbors.
A Navajo woman and her daughter, wearing a First Phase concho belt, taken in New Mexico in 1900 by William C. Orchard.
A Navajo woman named Anselina, photographed by Ben Wittick in New Mexico around 1890. Wittick often staged his "models" in fake backgrounds and supplied his own impressive pieces of jewelry, which distracts the viewer a bit from reality.
While out West last fall I found a perfect little First Phase revival belt (probably made in the 1930’s) for myself. Generally I find the concho belt to be a bit too large for your average person and prefer to see the wearable art hanging from a wooden post to admire but not to wear. But this little belt is just the right size and even fits through the belt loops of my old Levi’s. A sad story comes along with the belt and how it found its way into Esteban’s shop, El Rincon, in Taos. I was heartened when Esteban said he thought it ended up there because it was meant to be in my hands.
Ten silver conchos strung on the original bridle leather. The conchos have a matte patina that can only come with significant age and wear. Notice the black within the crevices of the silver work that pronounce its design. (This stuff gets me so giddy, I wanna sink right into those crevices. Also I’m about to reveal the depths of ‘the crazy’, but I love the way this belt smells. Too much information?)
Small conchos, as compared to a quarter dollar:
An old college friend once told me after meeting my Dad, “you make so much more sense now.” Anyway Dad also picked up a First Phase. His looks much like the belts seen above in the old photos and was probably made, so we’ve been told, in about 1920 during the Transitional period by an elder silversmith who had worked through the First Phase. The leather strap is not original to the piece but dates from the same time.
This belt is pretty huge. That’s a hell of a lot of silver. Dad can pull it off because he looks and dresses like a rock star.
Holes punched by hand, all done with primitive tools. Made on the ground, often on a block of wood. These conchos feature punched holes, scalloped borders, and a twisted wire effect which was common practice in the First Phase but rather laborious to create, and so the design became outmoded.
AND HEY YOU GUYS! As if there couldn’t be anything more to get giddy over, I’ve got even more concho on the way. I love you for reading this and above all, for humoring me by doing so!
The old photos and much reference information provided by Indian Jewelry of the Southwest 1868-1930 by Larry Frank, c. 1990 by Schiffer Publishing Ltd.
I like to think of my shoes as my loyal companions in life, unwaveringly along for the ride, traipsing the path of my journey. I love my shoes. And to keep them forever young so I can wear them as long as my journey will allow, I also love my cobbler.
This is Maria. She’s my shoe angel. She runs the show at Dino’s Shoe Repair on Columbus Circle in Manhattan, and greets me with a mighty “HIYA DAHHHHLING!!!!! LOOK ALIVE!!!!” when I enter the shop. Vist your local shoemaker and chances are they’ve got an old-school attitude, too.
I appreciate the values of the shoemaker. They practice an honest and traditional craft, and work very hard to keep their customers happy. Imagine my happiness in bringing a pair of disintegrating World War II era high heels into the shop, and having them turn around what feels like a new pair that I could bring to gym class and run The Mile in.
If you pick up a pair of old vintage shoes that you plan to really wear, take them to your cobbler and (at the very least) have them resoled. This will breathe unthinkable new life into the old dogs and ensure that they are fit for the ‘journey.’ (When conditioning vintage leather shoes, be wary of synthetic products that once applied won’t allow the leather to breath. My advice would be to do your research on the best natural products and do this part at home.)
If you pick up a beautiful pair of new shoes, take those to the cobbler, too. Consumerism has us steeped in the practice of Buy, Wear, Toss, Repeat. Good for the economy but bad for the sole! (HI! I LOVE PUNS!)
I just had my favorite pair of boots done up. Fresh soles, a repaired leather strap, an old-fashioned shoe shine…
Wish me well on the journey.
Why have I been wearing the same sweater everyday for the past week? My favorite winter sweater has a limited lifetime and I’m trying to squeeze all the seasonal festivity out of it before it’s too late. I didn’t make up the rules, but, however lovable and timeless, the deer n’ snowflake (or anything n’ snowflake) motif seems permissible only within a certain proximity to Christmas, like a two week radius in either direction. Am I wrong? If I am wrong, save me a bout with anguish and let me know.
Otherwise, pardon me, I’m about to tuck this one away until next winter.
As if you even had to ask! (Not that you did…)
I love barns. I’ve been positively barncrazy this past week and here I lavish some fruits of my barnlust. (Another thing I love, apparently, is trespassing on other people’s property…)
This barn has been happily converted into an antique store which was unfortunately closed the morning after Christmas, when these snowy photos were taken.
The brown shingles and yellow siding are so unique. This small barn rests on a compound with a very large yellow barn, a yellow farm house, and a tall red silo.
The snowies above were all taken in Northern Massachusetts or Southern New Hampshire. The rest were all shot on my home turf. My previously mentioned trip to the Northwest has been postponed, so I spent some time in the country this week doing little in the below freezing temperatures but barn hunting and sitting by the fire… And seeing Avatar in 3D with Dad.
Before I was born my dad would ride a horse that was stabled just the next barn over. The grass was dead, overgrown, crunchy, and creating a pattern of waves throughout the pasture.
Same yellow barn, different view.
Which is your favorite?
Wishing all you darlings a beautiful and Happy New Year. Sincere thanks to those who read and subscribe, send kind emails and comments, and to fellow site proprietors who have shared ISV with their readers. You have all made working on ISV in 2009 so much fun. XOX
For the next two weeks I’ll be looking for inspiration in New Hampshire and the Pacific Northwest. I’m checking out of here until 2010, but not before imparting each one of you with a kiss and my very best wishes for the merriest and happiest for your holidays and New Year.
XOX
(pictures and postcard all from the Wisconsin Historical Society)
Oh, and my favorite little-kid picture of Dad, whose face says everything that these words can’t:
Beeear with me, more Native American silver and turquoise. Perhaps just let it lend extra meaning to my moniker?
Matching Harvey era pins from the 1930’s, Navajo crafted. One for me, one for my sweet sister.
The symbolism:
Arrow: protection
Thunderbird: Bearer of unlimited happiness
Headdresses on either side of the arrowhead: ceremony, like a ceremonial dance
Shaman’s eye at base of the arrowhead: wisdom
Sun rays on the wings of the thunderbirds: constancy
Turquoise stones: believed to protect the body and spirit, to possess the virtues of health and happiness
While happily entrenched in my Navajo kick, for your sake and mine I’ll shake things up again soon. (I love a good self-fulfilling prophecy!) Meanwhile, happy holidays dear darlings.
While out West my eyes must have trod over hundreds, maybe thousands of old Harvey bracelets and adornments. I wrote this post a while back about the history of Mr. Fred Harvey and his influence on the Navajo jewelry and turquoise trade, why his pieces are so abundant and so wearable, and, so, won’t go into it here. I love these pieces because of the intricate silver work, and the Navajo spirit inlaid in each little carving.
1930’s pin
The Native Americans believe the thunderbird to be the bearer of unlimited happiness. This pin is interesting because of its raised wings, which give the piece dimension. Usually a pin will lie flat.
Early Harvey bracelet, 1920’s
Sun rays (emanated out from turquoise stones) symbolize constancy. The single arrow symbolizes protection, and the running water (markings at bracelet terminals) means constant life.
WARNING! Insane nab!
I’ve had this cuff a while now but this is it’s first appearance on ISV. I saw a similar one at a trading post in Arizona for some absurd sum of money that wreaked emotional havoc on my mortal wallet. I pulled it together and walked away. Back to New York, I nabbed this one on eebz for an equally absurd undervalued price.
From left to right: rattlesnake jaw design (outer rim of bracelet) symbolizes strength. Mountain ranges (squiggles above/beneath rattler jaws) for abundance. The line of suns between the rattler terminals symbolizes the passage of time. Water houses (small, on either side of the thunderbird) symbolize life.
Broken arrows meaning peace. Warding arrows (arrows facing one another, at cuff terminals) to ward off evil spirits.
Late 20’s or 30’s bracelet
Left to right: tiny crossed arrows for friendship. Suns (out edges) for the passing of time. Arrow heads, facing in either direction away from one another, for alertness. Single arrow for protection. Bear tracks, a good omen.
Love what you plunder.
As winter descends, let’s not hibernate. Let’s remember why we are built the way we are, and go places.
Or, make really, really good use of our Netflix accounts. (Yeah, I’m awful. And a sucker for a night in bed with Terry Malick. Remember this? Still waiting on this one.)
Badlands, 1973 by Terrence Malick. Starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek.
The story of Kit and Holly is based on the killing spree of murderer Charles Raymond Starkweather who nicked 11 people in the late 1950’s while on a road trip with his little girlfriend Caril. Obviously makins’ for a most endearing love story.
Kit in his Levi’s 507xx denim jacket (get yours here), white tee shirt, and barely pictured Levi’s 501s. Not pictured: bad ass cowboy boots.
Holly makes being a murder accessory look innocent and sweet as pie.
(perfectly featuring ISV favorites Mickey and Sylvia on the soundtrack)
Love, mmmhm, love is strange.
