When people think about “traditional
arts,” people don't tend to think “technology.” Some would even say there is a tension between the two. However, the number of people who turn to the internet to learn more about the arts is rapidly expanding

Holtgrave, Darcy

University of Missouri: MOspace

	 The	connection	between	tradition	and	technology	is	something	I	have	pondered	during	the	first	four	months	of	my	graduate	internship	with	the	Missouri	Folk	Arts	Program.	I	have	assisted	with	the	myriad	tasks	of	presenting	artists	at	a	festival	and	with	convening	a	panel	to	review	applications	for	the	Traditional	Arts	Apprenticeship	Program	(TAAP).	My	current	assignment	is	to	gather	and	assemble	information	from	the	archives	of	the	Western	Historical	Manuscript	Collection	(WHMC)	in	Ellis	Library	for	an	Folk ArtsDarcy HoltgraveGraduate Student Intern, Folk ArtsWhen Tradition Meets Technologyupcoming	online	exhibit	about	master	traditional	artists.	The	digital	exhibit	is	another	project	in	the	yearlong	celebration	of	the	twenty-fifth	anniversary	of	TAAP,	a	program	funded	by	the	National	Endowment	for	the	Arts	and	the	Missouri	Arts	Council,	where	over	350	master	artists	have	now	passed	their	skills	onto	apprentices	across	the	state	of	Missouri.		 At	WHMC,	I	sit	with	a	wall	of	card	catalogues	to	my	back	and	rooms	of	digitizing	equipment	to	my	left.	With	my	handy	laptop	ready	for	note-taking,	I	happily	dig	into	the	boxes	of	paper	files	from	the	history	of	the	TAAP.	The	job	of	assembling	an	online	representation	of	these	master	artists	makes	me	consider	how	this	translation	is	going	to	work.	When	people	think	about	“traditional	arts,”	people	don’t	tend	to	think	“technology.”	Some	would	even	say	there	is	a	tension	between	the	two.	However,	the	number	of	people	who	turn	to	the	internet	to	learn	more	about	the	arts	is	rapidly	expanding.	Folks	who	are	interested	in	listening	to	some	old	time	fiddle	music,	In	2005	Martin	Bergin	demonstrated	his	roping	techniques	at	the	Capitol	in	Jefferson	City,	Mo.10for	instance,	can	easily	type	the	term	into	a	popular	search	engine	and	find	over	a	million	websites,	the	first	of	which	provides	digital	audio	and	video	for	immediate	enjoyment.	And	if	folks	are	going	to	search	for	old	time	fiddlers	on	the	internet,	they	must	learn	about	Missouri’s	fine	fiddling	traditions.		 The	kind	staff	members	at	the	WHMC	listen	to	me	as	I	uncover	an	interesting	snippet	and	say,	not-so-sotto voce,	“Look	at	this!”	As	I	am	researching,	one	thing	I	notice	is	that	a	kind	of	writing	is	vanishing	from	the	public	hand.	In	one	of	the	many	archival	boxes,	I	have	stumbled	upon	a	piece	of	correspondence	from	Martin	Bergin,	a	master	saddle-maker	and	cowboy	poet	who	lives	and	works	in	Overland,	a	St.	Louis	suburb.	Bergin’s	handwriting	in	this	letter	from	1987	is	simultaneously	meticulous	and	dynamic;	each	word	is	placed	just	so	on	the	page,	while	the	capital	P’s	swoop	into	place,	the	J’s	come	to	a	point	and	then	spring	off	jauntily.		 The	difficulties	of	translating	work	from	one	form	to	another	are	not	new.	In	application	materials	from	the	1980’s,	master	blacksmith	Darold	Rinedollar	modestly	states	that	he	has	difficulty	expressing	himself,	while	his	apprentice	Paul	Dean	Harvey	submits,	“I	stand	there	black	as	the	coal	I	use,	with	people	looking	in	wondering,	how	can	he	do	this?	Where	is	the	machine?	I	can	honestly	answer,	right	here	in	my	own	two	arms,”	evocatively	translating	the	three	dimensional	art	of	blacksmithing	onto	the	flat	page.	With	their	example,	I	see	that	my	task	is	to	distill	just	as	evocatively	all	the	complexities	of	artists	and	their	art,	translating	pages	in	the	archives	to	profiles	on	the	web.	 The	appropriateness	of	the	online	exhibition	is	even	clearer	when	I	consider	the	master	artists’	own	relationships	to	technology.	As	I	wend	my	way	through	more	correspondence,	the	ways	that	new	tools	are	used	and	the	needs	those	tools	satisfy	illustrate	the	dynamism	of	the	artists.	For	example,	old	time	fiddler	Johnny	Ray	Bruce,	who	lived	in	Bosworth,	a	tiny	town	in	west	central	Missouri,	credits	learning	his	instrument	traditionally	from	relatives	and	friends,	but	he	also	credits	“radio	and	tapes,”	sounds	available	for	him	to	listen	and	play	over	and	over	again,	and	to	imitate.	Similarly,	Edna	Mae	Davis,	the	square	dancer	and	caller	from	Ava,	Mo.,	who	is	often	credited	with	sustaining	traditional	dances	in	the	Ozark	region,	also	relied	on	technology.	Though	she	insisted	on	calling	square	dancing	figures	to	the	tunes	of	a	live	band,	she	used	records	often	to	rehearse,	largely,	I	imagine,	for	sheer	convenience.	 Even	the	purists—those	who	strive	to	maintain	a	self-described	“authenticity”	of	materials	or	techniques—are	influenced	by	current	demands	in	the	products	they	create.	Master	wood	joiner	(and	anthropologist)	James	Price	of	Naylor,	Mo.,	prides	himself	on	using	implements	from	the	1800s,	making	them,	as	he	says,	“sing	again”	to	work	with	wood,	creating	intricately	fitted	pieces	without	the	use	of	nails	or	glue.	He	writes	in	a	letter	from	1985,	“A	great	feeling	of	independence	is	achieved	by	knowing	that	without	electricity,	modern	abrasives,	and	tungsten	carbide	cutters,	wood	can	be	sawed,	smoothed,	shaped,	and	joined…”	Still,	Price	shows	flexibility	in	the	products	he	creates.	For	one	particular	project,	the	master	and	his	apprentice	Christopher	Miller	constructed	a	wooden	tower	for	Miller’s	compact	disc	collection.	Price	boasts	that	the	“piece	will	outlive	us	all,”	so	long	as	fire	or	flood	don’t	intervene.	And,	now,	over	twenty	years	later,	we	realize	the	piece	will	probably	outlive	compact	discs	as	a	popular	method	to	convey	recorded	music.			 Technology	and	tradition	are	not	exclusive	of	each	other;	they	are	both	tools,	and	we	can	choose	the	ones	that	best	serve	our	needs	for	the	job.	Indeed,	the	technologies	of	communication	continue	to	expand	and	offer	us	more	tools	for	transmitting	tradition.	Next	year,	the	applications	for	the	TAAP	program	will	be	offered	online.	Some	applicants	will	print	out	the	application	and	fill	it	in	by	hand;	others	will	use	a	word	processing	program;	and	of	course,	still	others	will	call	by	phone	to	request	paper	copies	be	sent	through	the	mail.	Offering	all	these	options	to	the	public	allows	for	the	greatest	flexibility	and	gives	the	artists	the	opportunity	to	use	whatever	tools	they’re	comfortable	with.	This	shift	means,	of	course,	that	the	carefully-crafted	handwriting	may	appear	in	the	archives	less	and	less.	Lucky	for	me,	I’m	a	sucker	for	fancy	fonts,	too.Information and images: Missouri Folk Arts  Program, Records (WUNP6045), Western  Historical Manuscript Collection— Columbia, MO Special thanks to the WHMC staff. Left:	James	Price	planes	wood	inhis	workshop.Below: Johnny	Ray	Bruce	(left)	demonstrates		a	tune	for	his	apprentice	in	1985	and	Edna	Mae	Davis	calls	square	dance	in	1988.	11

Folk Arts: When Tradition Meets Technology

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