Svensson - Knowledge and Artifacts People and Objects

8/13/2019 Svensson - Knowledge and Artifacts People and Objects

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Knowledge and Artifacts: People and Objects

Tom G. Svensson

Baskets have stories, songs, and genealogies.They have helped us on our travels and told uswho we are as people. They have healed thesick and forecast momentous events. The wea-vers hands move, and the basket takes formso that the story can be known. And the basketskeep talking. [Greg Sarris (Pomo) quoted inTurnbaugh and Turnbaugh 1999]

In the study of material culture, the connec-

tion between artifacts and knowledge is

discernible. The knowledge that we are talk-

ing about derives primarily from people, often

based upon the researchers firsthand observa-

tions. It is impossible to contextualize objects in a

satisfactory way unless one combines objects and

words, which according to Julie Cruikshank (1992),

points to physical manifestations of ideas paired

with linguistic expression of ideas. Only then is it

possible to perceive objects contextually within the

different cultural settings in which they arise and

through which they move. Only persons who make

and use the artifacts in question can bring forth the

insight about the cultural meaning of artifacts.

Museums are institutions that assume special

responsibility when it comes to recording and man-

aging adequate contextual knowledge connected to

objects in their custody. Recently, museums have

accurately been referred to as knowledge-making

institutions (Erikson 2002). In this recasting of

the museum role, the one-dimensional attention de-

voted to objects is degraded to apt proportions. The

collection of artifacts once acquired and the knowl-

edge attached to them through research processesproduces new knowledge and insight. This article

presents, as an example, the case of a single object

around which layers of appropriate knowledge

has continuously been brought together over many

years (19722003), thereby shedding light on a

newly created artifact. Ethnographic museums

have a special obligation to engage in such knowl-

edge-generating processes in connection with the

contemporary acquisition of material objects. This

is part of the challenge that ethnographic museums

are facing today; in particular, as traditional

knowledge related to various objects rapidly disap-

pears, as when the people managing traditional

knowledgeFfrequently called eldersFpass away.

This is the reason why elders oral histories are often

so crucial, as they help to bring museum artifacts

to life. Oral histories reveal memory and perception,

essential aspects that add culture-specific meaning

to the objects in museum collections. Rescuing

traditional knowledge orally sustained, therefore,

is essential for all kinds of museums, not the least

those managed and operated by indigenous peoples

themselves (Kreps 2003:108).

In the following, I will discuss the inter-

relationship between knowledge and object. From a

methodological point of view, emphasis is given

to a narrative approach. The overall purpose of

the project is to demonstrate how the three compo-

nentsForal history, material culture, and ethno-

graphic museumsFare connected. My empirical

frame of reference is the Sami culture in Northern

Fennoscandia and its basketry tradition. The close

connection between people and objects is considered

as a precondition to comprehending knowledge-

generating processes. To elucidate a general argu-

ment, one single object, from a Sami basket type

known asmini kisa, collected by the Ethnographic

Museum, University of Oslo, in 2003, will be used

as the case in point.1 A secondary focus of this

paper will be to demonstrate how a scholarly text,

in this case a monographic study of Sami basketrytradition viewed through the work of one family

(Svensson 1985), functions as a basis for knowledge

and as a source of inspiration, both for those

practising the craft and for their potential custom-

ers, many years after it was published.

The linear development from craft tradition

through refined handicraft to art proper will,

moreover, be highlighted in a way that indicates

85


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what can be referred to as the biography of arti-

facts.2 The transformation of craftwork into art

calls for the examination of problems related to

authenticity and exclusivity. In other words, how

far is it permissible to move the aesthetic frontier

without loosing the characteristic features of an

object and thereby eroding perceptions of its beingunequivocally authentic; an index referring to the

culture from which it derives its origin?

The background for the discussion that follows

extends back more than 30 years to a beginning in

1972. From that time on, I have been pre-occupied

with this subject matter focusing on one particular

family groupFAsa Kitok and her daughtersF

which, at the time, was noticeably active in Sami

basketry. They were a driving force in reviving as

well as innovating within this manifestation of

Sami material culture. In 1972, Asa Kitok was

approaching the age of 80. She was still active but

was soon to retire; consequently, entering this field

of inquiry was urgent. Her extensive knowledge

and experience were orally retained, as she was

illiterate. Two of her daughters were active and

well-established handicraft manufacturers. These

facts offered a most appropriate timing for research.

Adopting the method outlined, I was more interested

in the everyday life situations of these people and in

the way that it was reflected in narratives than I was

in the specific objects they produced. In 1985, a book

was published on this limited subject (Svensson

1985), the aim of which was to shed light on one

specific expression of Sami material culture, i.e. bas-

ketry. The year after I published the monograph, Asa

Kitok passed away at the age of 93. She was clear in

mind until the end. Her versatile and rich knowl-

edge, in particular on Sami basketry traditions, had

been preserved and made accessible to Sami and

non-Sami readers through this focused study.

Presenting the ObjectThemini kisaserving as a point of reference for

my general argument is a most complex piece ofbasketry. It is small in size, measuring only 13.5

centimeters in breadth and 10.0 centimeters in

height. It is made entirely of the thinnest threads

(derived from birch tree roots) that can be found.

These birch root threads are a natural material

suitable for various kinds of basketry and are char-

acteristic of the landscape that the Sami tradition-

ally inhabit (figure 1). This miniature basket with a

lid was manufactured by the leading artist cur-

rently maintaining Sami basketry traditions,Ellen

Kitok of Jokkmokk in Swedish Lapland. Without

exaggeration, the mini kisa can be considered a

box of traditions, drawing upon Ira Jacknis meta-

phor regarding Kwakwakawakw (Kwakiutl) art

(Jacknis 2002).

The artifact is rather dense in meaning, and it

can be read as a text indicating the entire spectrum

of specific Sami basketry techniques, all of which

are applied in this one single object. It should,

furthermore, be underlined that basketry among

the Sami has always been, and still is, exclusively

oriented toward coiled techniques. From the bot-

tom of the kisa to the top of its lid, we find the

following as inter-changeably appearing:

(1) A checkered pattern. (2) A knotted pattern.(3) Extra tight coiling, so-called Sami nettle.(4) Sairot, a technique known in many culturesand used by the Sami ever since they begantheir basketry craft sometime in the 1600s.(5) A double zigzag pattern, an innovation notused by older generations but which, aftermany years has become established as a Sami-specific pattern.

It should be pointed out that the lid has a salient,

dome-shaped form precisely emulating the cover on

the large wooden kisa (figure 2).

The idea of making such a mini kisa emanates

from the large wooden kisa, an oval-shaped chest

originally made of wood in what is called sweeping

1. Sami basket in the shape of amini kisamade by Ellen

Kitok. The artifact shows the development of aesthetic

complexity in a traditional Sami craft. UEM 47998, Mu-

seum of Cultural History, University of Oslo. Photograph

by Ann-Christine Eek.

86 MUSEUM ANTHROPOLOGYVOLUME 31 NUMBER 2


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technique, and which was commonly used to store

valuables in the tent and during the seasonal

migrations during which it was transported on

pack-reindeer. The kisa had an obvious place in

the manner in which the Sami traditionally lived.

For that reason, it has been as an iconic source of

inspiration when it comes to designing new, inno-

vative shapes in Sami birch root basketry. This

inspiration has led to both full size works, using

coarser roots and, as in this case, on a minimal

scale applying particularly thin roots. The kisa

symbolizes a lifestyle, now vanished, which many

of contemporary basketry makers have a fair

memory of. In spite of the fact that kisa-shaped

baskets were never made when the making of

basketry was a common feature among the Sami, to

create a recognizable kisa-shaped piece of basketry

nowadays is especially compelling as such an object

conveys knowledge about the importance of the

kisa in general as part of the traditional Sami wayof life. It is not simply a beautified artifact, appeal-

ing to look at. Its oval design gives it an unmis-

takable significance and adds to the identification

of the object as Sami.

Let us then move to the original context of the

mini kisa: the cultural background of Sami bas-

ketry and its history. To begin with, a working

definition of the concept duodje in Sami culture is

called for. Duodje represents a specific design of

high quality based on great skill in craftworkF

meaning in this instance, that which is handmade.

The objects produced are based mainly on diverse

natural materialsFwood, birch roots, reindeer

antler, reindeer hidesFbut even incorporate some

commercially fabricated materials, such as textilesand tin threads. The latter are used for embroidery,

which all together make up the original Sami scale

of materials employed in traditional craft produc-

tion. All objects made are distinct representations

of the traditional Sami way of life. Often they are

connected to practical functions, even if they are

well-shaped and tastefully embellished. Without

loosing their characteristics, those craft objects

viewed as markedly Sami have gone through an

appreciable transformation as a result of modern

life conditions, although, at the same time, they are

referred to as duodje. Duodje is well-anchored in

social traditions and is closely attached to the fields

of knowledge that are based on experience. Lately,

duodje has, moreover, been developed into an aca-

demic discipline: two Sami women have recently

completed doctoral degrees in duodje, emerging

as a Sami-specific discipline supplementary to the

conventional Western history of art (University of

Troms). We can regard this academic progress as

parallel to the establishment of indigenous muse-

ums and as part of the emergence, worldwide, of

academic indigenous studies.3 We see then that

the Sami, in their intellectual advancement, have

demonstrated that they prefer the native concept

of duodje to art, as it connects intimately to their

traditional or indigenous knowledge. The recent

acceptance of duodje in academic circles must be

considered part of a broader process, in which the

contemporary Sami are engaged in extending their

cultural autonomy.

Duodje is a collective term or emic term, encom-

passing aesthetic practice within Sami culture.

Among active practitioners, it presumes adequate

knowledge of a skill as well as of wider contextualfamiliarity with the Sami culture. In other words, it

is necessary to possess enough talent relative to

aesthetic expression, but this is paired with exten-

sive insight into the basic frameworks for action

and thought structure that are related specifically

to the Sami culture.4

Peoples may certainly have art, including visual

aesthetics encompassing expression in diverse

2. Traditional sami kisa made of wood with iron mount-

ings. Originally each family had several such kisas for

storage in the tent and during seasonal migrations. Now,

it remains a precious item in most contemporary Sami

homes, serving as a reminder of the past and as a poten-

tial source of inspiration. This kisa derives from the

Kitok family and belongs now to Ellen Kitok and her de-scendants. Photograph by the author, 2003.

KNOWLEDGE AND ARTIFACTS 87


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forms without necessarily having a specific term for

art (in the standard Western sense). As the famous

Haida artist Bill Reid has stated so eloquently:

it is ridiculous to assume that, if there is noword for art in Aboriginal languages, thepeople of the past had no appreciation of the

formal elements of their creations, that theyhad no sthetic criteria by which to distinguishgood work from bad, that they were not movedby excellence and beauty. Without a formal andcritical public, the artists could never, in thesesocieties as in any other, have produced thegreat works they did. [Reid in Ames 1992:70]

As has been established in much work in folklore

and the anthropology of art, the Sami case demon-

strates again in a convincing way that there may

be emic concepts covering manifestations of that

which can rightly be perceived and admired as

aesthetically attractive. For indigenous peoples,

distinguishing artifact as separate from art is not

so important, as objects created frequently carry

characteristics of both, or in some instances even

more than both (Ames 1992:154).

Returning to the term duodje, developing such

an emic conception into an academic discipline

underscores the view that there is something more

to be enclosed. Classic work in Western art history

has dealt primarily with aesthetics, whereas

duodje indicates a broader Sami perspective point-

ing to the clear connection between art and artifact,

aesthetics and practice. This duality is formally

acknowledged internally by Sami, who consider

perfected, refined duodje to be equal to art, and ex-

ternally, by means of public acceptance of certain

objects as art. In other words, the conventional

discipline of art history turned out to be too limited

and inappropriate when it came to meeting the

complexity embedded in the concept duodje. Con-

sequently, the Sami choice was obvious: they had to

establish an adequate field of study meeting their

aesthetic requirements. The mini kisa dealt with

here relates to Sami craft traditions as well as tothis refined form of handicraft, eventually ending

up as a piece of art. However, in the Sami language

it is still mainly regarded as duodje. In this manner,

it is possible to come to terms with the often-

disputable dichotomy between what is classified as

fine art and craft (Duncan 2005:32).

The knowledge that is of greatest interest to

scholars and practitioners is, to a large extent,

non-written, silent knowledge, which is the very

foundation for the special cultural competence that

practitioners of duodje (working either on full-time

or on part-time basis) must master. For those active

in duodje, it is essential to be able to interpret, or

read, different signs in nature, in the landscape.

Such know-how is required when looking for, andselecting, raw material. This is a key basis on

which a successful career as craftworker/handi-

crafter, and eventually as an artist, rests. These

skills are central to translating, and relating to, the

concept duodje. Sami basketry is a craft tradition

based on birch roots named taive. As a consequence,

the specified designation in Sami for this type of

craft istaiveduodje.

For how long the Sami have been involved in

producing basketry utensils we do not know. From

the 17th century, however, we are able to record

accurate evidence of Sami basketry. It is in no

way an original invention, but, as for several other

peoples in the Arctic/sub-arctic region, it is a craft

externally inspired that eventually was incorpo-

rated in the repertoire of material manifestations,

not the least due to the basketrys usefulness. The

oldest known illustration of Sami basketry showing

a rather small, round basket with lid, unna karjatj,

made of birch roots, can be found in the classic

scholarly account of Lapland, Lapponia, dating to

1673 and authored by Johannes Schefferus (1956).

This basket is woven in sairot, an ancient tech-

nique used by the regions sedentary non-Sami

population and considered to be the first and origi-

nal technique adopted by the Sami.

Unna karjatj is a basket in which small-size

valuables, such as coins, small silver items and

sewing materials, were stored. It is probably not

the oldest object made of birch roots. In an earlier

study (Svensson 1978), I argued that this status

belonged to a round basket with particularly low

edges and a well-perforated form (produced by

means of the knotted pattern) that was and is made

for the preparation of reindeer cheese. I suggestedthat this basket type known as teivo was the pri-

mordial basketry artifact, in this sense, among the

Sami. Making cheese pre-supposes the frequent

milking of the reindeer, as well as a high degree of

domestication of the reindeer flocks, and more than

a hundred years before Schefferus, milking as a

domestic activity can be discerned (Olaus Magnus

1555; see also discussion in Svensson 1985:1430).



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For at least 350 years, then, the cheese mold

became the most significant basketry object in the

Sami culture with its simple and limited set of

material expressions, symbolizing a distinctive life-

style. In their ecological adaptation, the Sami

discovered that birch roots represented an apt means

for manufacturing some of the practical utensilsnecessary for carrying on nomadic reindeer pasto-

ralism, as well as for their domestic household

needs. Recurring migrations due to different rein-

deer pasturing requirements, a strenuous life paired

with subsistence hunting, fishing, and gathering,

outlines the original context in which Sami basketry

should be placed, a context where the notion of

duodje is central.

Knowledge DiscourseWhat kind of knowledge can be perceived through

this particular object? And, second, to what extent

does the mini kisa speak for the Sami culture? Such

questions denote the handicrafters ability to meet

the responsibility in speaking through the artifacts

about Sami traditions and lifestyles. Most of the

knowledge associated with this basket is orally

maintained. The knowledge represents part of

cultural competence that is essential to attain,

thereby affirming culture-specific quality and

identification of the artifact created, even convey-

ing insight about Sami traditional ways of life.

The knowledge affiliated with basketry activity

is twofold: first, it has to do with all of the technical/

practical aspects related to basketry traditions;

second, it relates to the way of life generally, either

in taking part in reindeer herding, in addition

to other customary Sami occupations, or as modern

time handicrafters/artists. The versatile knowl-

edge on which basketry making rests is in no way

unique for the Sami. Technical skills are not infre-

quently paired with a profound cultural under-

standing, inclusive of the natural world, as, for

example, among the Karuk and other tribal groups

in California (cf. Turnbaugh and Turnbaugh 1999:52). This body of knowledge is normally not written

down but mainly sustained as well as transmitted

orally. To capture and record this flow of knowl-

edge, long-term participant fieldwork among a

limited number of people being active in the trade

is required.

In the extended narratives given here, Sami

traditions and customs are brought forth through

the voice of Asa Kitok. The discussions range

beyond technical know-how connected to basketry,

although that element represents a most momen-

tous part of the knowledge recorded therein. It is,

moreover, the assembled knowledge derived from

Asa Kitok that serves as the premise and founda-

tion for a person like Ellen Kitok in her constantlyinnovating endeavors, using her increased skill

in moving the frontier to new heights. Her own

narrative, which is prolific in ideas and thoughtsF

not the least those emanating from her motherF

bears clear evidence of that.5

For Ellen Kitok, returning to, and repeating the

knowledge that was once managed and conveyed

by Asa Kitok, whenever she is actively engaged in

a specially demanding refined handicraft/art, is

instrumental in her own production of knowledge.

This is a continual process concerning intangible

heritage that is intimately related to artifacts. Let

us now turn to the concrete narrative of Asa Kitok,

supplemented by certain remembrances told by

Ellen Kitok, before concluding with some personal

comments by Ellen Kitok directly associated with

the creation of the mini kisa (see figure 3).

Asa Kitoks (18931986) NarrativeIn the olden times, most women, like myself, were

capable in diverse craftwork making utility items,

but my primary interest had always been connected

to basketry. This kind of handicraft based on birch

roots is typical womens work. Traditionally, we

manufactured craft items for household needs only

in connection to herding reindeer. In those days,

there were plenty of beasts of prey, which meant that

the reindeer had to be watched more or less day and

night. This intensive watching offered certain spare

time when we could dig up roots from the ground

and start working on a piece of basketry work typi-

cal for the nomadic Sami household, be it a flat

bottle for keeping salt; a round mold for reindeer

cheese, teivo, a basic item in reindeer pas-

toralist households as milking the reindeer wassuch an important activity; moreover, small or

larger baskets with a lid to keep valuable things

in the tent and during migrations. This activity

took place solely during the summer and we only

made things we needed. Most people knew the skill

so there was no demand for these craft products.

There is no surprise then that the knowledge and

interest for basketry among the Sami discontinued



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completely when people began using similar items

they needed which were made of other material

bought from shops.

Between 1922, when I got married, and 1939,

when my youngest daughter Ellen started school,

I did not make any crafts items at all. I was then

too pre-occupied providing for my family. When all

the children were away attending the boarding

school for nomads in Gallivare, I could begin on a

small scale making basketry again. To begin with, I

only made cheese molds for my own needs to slowlyrecover my ability. Later on, I made such molds for

some of the local peasants in Sjaunja for their goat

or cow cheese. This was the revival after around 20

years of complete inactivity concerning basketry. I

turned out as the only initiator when it comes

to reviving our basketry tradition, for all other

women in my generation, there was no longer any

interest. The driving force for me was that at least

some of my daughters should learn enough to share

my pride and concern for this tradition. My inten-

tion was carried through as two of my daughters,

Margit and Ellen, gradually turned out as leading

handicrafters, developing the coiled root craftwork

into refined handicraft.

My mother made basketry work in the same way,in particular cheese molds as they were constantly

in need. Reindeer cheese was an important trade

item, whereas the molds were kept as long

as they lasted. The pattern brought about by the

coiling technique was elaborated so that the cheese

turned out beautiful too, but also to the effect that

the whey could readily run off.

I learned how to make basketry by watching my

mother; in those days there were no courses or

education in craftwork, but those who understood

how things were made, only by watching women

who possessed knowledge and experience, could pick

up the skillFfor others there was no use.

Furthermore, I looked at old baskets and from them I

observed different techniques. In my opinion, it is

quite possible to learn the basic skill by means of

watching the way others are making the craft.

Besides my mother I wish to mention my fathers

sister, Kati Vitsak, who was a skilled and reputable

basketry maker in her generation; one of the few

I know of who made baskets for all those who did not

share the skill, or could not devote enough time. As

far as I know, there is only one object left from her

hands, it is a small basket with a lid, unna karjatj,

to keep small precious things, for example wedding

bands (figure 4). During the era when we migrated

and lived in tent it was put in a kisa; now it is

placed on a shelf, fully visible in the living room

together with other Sami handicraft in the home of

my sister Margit in Gallivare. This piece is the old-

est item made of birch roots that derive from our

family, a kind of primordial object representing the

basketry activity of the family. Kati Vitsak made

this basket for her brother, my father, and even if

I have seen little of her basketry I have truly beeninspired by her work.

All items I made before marriage are gone, they

were thrown away as they were worn out by fre-

quent use. In the same way, all items made by my

aunt are also gone except this single unna karjatj.

Among the Sami, basketry was most common in

reindeer-herding families, as reindeer cheese mak-

ing was closely connected to the reindeer industry in

3. Asa Kitok weaving a basket in her kitchen in the vil-

lage Allawaare, Gallivare. Photograph by the author,

1975.



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general. Cheese molds were also the made items

most often to meet household requirements. For all

those who did not obtain the ability for the time-

consuming basketry made the same utensils of wood,

even cheese molds and bottles for salt, although they

are not as functional as the ones made of birch roots.

When we applied ourselves to craftwork in the

open while herding reindeer, the roots were soft, or

row, which meant we did not have to dip the root

persistently in water while working on a basket. On

the other hand, we had to be close to a rivelet,

or a pool of water, for occasional dipping as cold

water is satisfactory when the roots are completely

fresh. Nowadays, when working indoors using arid,

or wholly dried through material, it is necessary to

have access to warm water all the time to soften the

roots while making basketry.

I never expected to turn to craftwork as a major

occupation but after a slow incidental start, the

rumor began to circulate and I got more and more

orders, especially from Gallivare, both from shops

selling Sami handicraft and private collectors. Inthis way, I became an active basketry crafter, taive

duojar, and in my generation I am the only one.

Mostly, I kept to making objects mirroring our tra-

ditional way of life: cheese molds, bottles for salt

and baskets with a lid for coffee cups, round as well

as oval-shaped. All patterns and coiled techniques

represented ancient knowledge and practice, I was

only a contemporary transmitter.

To begin with, I was surprised to find out that

this activity could evolve into cash income of some

substance and the prices gradually rose as my name

became rather known. When I had the chance, I

chose basketry, taive, as an occupation because it

gave me a reasonable income, which meant I could

cut down on the hardship mainly for subsistence.My life suddenly became easier, even more mean-

ingful, as I felt I had a mission to fulfill in reviving

and carrying on a traditional Sami craftwork.

This kind of craftwork is characterized by hard

work for very long days, otherwise it leads to noth-

ing. One has to be dedicated; therefore, in my

opinion there will never be many who are actively

engaged in basketry compared with other tradi-

tional Sami handiwork. To make a living on bas-

ketry, besides talent, patience and a developed sense

for long-term planning are required dispositions. If

not, there is no way one can succeed.

It starts with the hard work of collecting root

material out in the woods, which, not infrequently,

can be at long distances from home. Early summer

is a suitable time to collect roots; then the roots are

in sap, making it easier to scrape off the bark. In the

autumn, the bark stays tighter and the work of

cleaning the roots becomes heavier. It is, further-

more, important to know where to look for the birch

roots suitable for craftwork, even refined handi-

craft. For example, if the ground is stony, one only

finds crooked roots, which are of no use for basketry.

In the wood dominated by birch and pine, where

there are many wind-fallen trees, long, straight

roots can be collected, which are ideal for basketry

work. Formerly, when we made basketry only for

our own household needs, we dug out the roots di-

rectly under the birch trees. It was more or less

accidental that I discovered how much better areas

with wind-fallen trees were. One day, on my way to

set my fishing nets, I happened to kick a

decayed stump, which uncovered fine roots. This gave

me the idea to always look for grounds with wind-

fallen trees when collecting roots for my basketry.The axe is a good tool together with a piece of

reindeer antler or a pitchfork for potatoes, that is all

you need. When I return home, I immediately put

the roots in cold water and start scraping off the

bark with the back of a knife, after which I hang the

roots to dry. Next day, the same thing, and one must

be prepared to use several days collecting as there

will be a lot of waste when scraping the roots. After

4. Unna karjatj by Kati Vitsak, aunt of Asa Kitok and the

oldest basket that still remains within the family. Photo-

graph by the author, 1975.



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the roots are cleaned and dried, I sort them accord-

ing to different thickness and bind them up in

rounds for further drying. Dried, the roots can be

stored for any length of time before being used.

Our universal tool is the awl made of bone, usu-

ally marrow pipe, first cut by axe then sharpened,

and finally shaped by a knife. This awl mustbe made of a bone that is boiled otherwise it is too

fragile. One needs several awls with different points

depending on the thickness of the roots.

Different kinds of utensils made of birch roots

require different coiling techniques. That which

distinguishes the Sami way from the non-Sami

basketry practice is that we usually adopt a double

supporting thread around which we coil what we

call the thinner winding thread with the aid of the

awl. The reason for using double supporting thread

is that the artifacts last much longer, crucial not

the least considering the frequent movings. For

instance, when making a cheese mold, teivo, a

combination of knotted pattern,tjuolma, with tight

rings are suitable, thinking of the function, whereas

a bottle for salt requires tight rings all the way. To

work in the latter technique takes more time than

any of the others. The square-shaped pattern is a

faster technique and goes well with the large baskets

for coffee cups and also the smaller unna karjats.

I have also used a zigzag pattern,vingkar, both

single and double, whereas my daughters active in

this craft have developed a quadruple pattern as an

innovation in our time to beautify the objects even

more. But that is beyond my ability and feeling.

What we call sairot is a most genuine Sami tech-

nique, a sort of chain pattern, which can be applied

to various wares. I wish to stress that one gets the

best result when using wide split root threads,

and never fails getting beautifully shaped and

patterned cheese molds when applying sairot!

Another distinction between the Sami and non-

Sami concerning basketry is the manner in which

the object is built up. In the simple technique

applied by non-Sami one folds inward, continuingafter the bottom part is made. The Sami, on the

other hand, turn the object outwards, which means

that the show-side, i.e. the pattern side, is seen out-

wards. To have the show-side facing inwards is

more backward in my view.

The cheese molds had a special place in the old

households among the Sami. The edge part should

not be too high, I estimate three rows connected by

knotted pattern as the most common and practical.

If the edge is not sufficiently perforated, the whey

will not run away as desired. Then the cheese be-

comes too watery and not as tasty as one wishes. The

cheese must dry properly, for that reason the shape

and pattern of the mold is so vital.

One of my new creations is to make the charac-teristic single-shafted milk-pail, nahppe, of roots,

an object that is originally made of wood from the

round knots of the birch tree. I had often used such a

milk-pail, so the inspiration was in a way obvious,

as I developed my skill moving the frontier for what

was possible to make by birch threads. To make a

nahppeof roots is far more difficult than to make it

of wood. In the latter case, the shape is already

suggested in the raw material; while coiling with

birch roots one is gradually building an object

from beginning to end. The most difficult part is

to attach the handle to obtain the proper balance

between handle and bowl similar to the milk-pail

made of wood.

Other innovations from my hands are the cork

for the bottle containing salt and the large kisa, the

oval-shaped storage box made of wood. I saw

a challenge in trying out new shapes, but it was

important for me to stay with traditional Sami

artifacts. I wanted my craftwork in basketry to

reflect Sami traditions, to convey knowledge and

experience about the nomadic lifestyle on its way

to disappearance. Finally, I have also made large

dishes reminiscent of the bowls made of wood. Of

course, most of what I have made when becoming

active, more or less fulltime, handiworker, are not

for practical use but should be seen as decorative

things meeting a newly created market predomi-

nated by various collectors.

My two active daughters have carried the idea of

new creations much further; as examples, I wish to

mention huge wall decorations based on the origi-

nal teivo, using elaborated mixing of techniques,

bridal crown and collection bag for the local

church, beautiful items having definite function.Yes, I am proud of my daughters achievement, this

means that our craft I once revived will continue

and have a place in the current Sami culture.

Let me conclude. I never thought that I should be

the one who revived Sami basketry traditions, ta-

ive-tuojev. I am very pleased that I started and

contributed to its revival after a long dormant

period. Now, when I have retired from actively



9/20

making basketry anymore I can look back with sat-

isfaction. Through my daughters, what they have

accomplished and their industrious conveyance

of this craft tradition to new generations of Sami

as well as interested non-Sami from the larger

society, I am convinced this craft will live on. But

there will always be only very few as it is so time-absorbing and consequently extremely strenuous to

make a living for all those adapted to a modern

lifestyle.

Before turning to the voice of Ellen Kitok, let me

make an additional comment. The danger of losing

an important custom altogether, alluded to by Asa

Kitok at the end of her narrative, deserves further

attention. If the complex knowledge, which primar-

ily is sustained in peoples minds, is lost, then

a characteristic element of their material cultural

repertoire may be lost as well. These, apparently,

were the thoughts that lay behind Asa Kitoks

initiated revival of traditional Sami basketry. This

predicament has, likewise, been emphasized con-

cerning Karuk basketry.

The technical skills and aesthetic principlesrelevant to basket making, the knowledge ofwhen and how to properly prepare basketrymaterials, the familiar habitats where basketmakers gathered native plantsFshould any ofthese elements be lost or forgotten, even withinthe short span of one generation, a peoplesbasket making might become altered or even

vanish altogether. [Turnbaugh and Turnbaugh1999:164]

This concern has, moreover, been expressed by

the contemporary Pomo weaver Susan Billy

(1994:197): I get very upset when I hear people say

that weaving is a dying art. I feel that there is al-

ways somebody who is going to carry on that

wisdom and that knowledge. Billy learned the skill

and attained the feeling for Pomo traditional bas-

ketry from her great-aunt Elsie Allen. A similar

family-managed heritage is continuing to develop

with Ellen Kitoks own granddaughter Ann-Char-

lotte Labba and her currently created interest for

the achievement inspired by her great grand-

mother Asa Kitok concerning Sami basketry.

Ideas and Recollections as Told byEllen Kitok (b. 1932)

From when I was very young, I recall in particu-

lar the many times I followed my mother to the

woods around Sjaunja to collect root material. On

these occasions, mother told about the properties of

the birch roots and how to deal with the raw mate-

rial. It is most important to get a feeling of the

quality of the raw material for anyone who seri-

ously wants to become a basket maker. At this time, I

was about 1213 years old and besides gatheringroots I started to practice doing basketry. My

first finished object was a cheese mold, teivo, and

already in the summer of 1950, I completed as many

as six such cheese molds of different sizes, which

gave me great satisfaction.

Quite early, I tried out working with thin threads

and my mother said, oh dear me, what thin roots

you are working with, you should not do that, it takes

such a long time to have a basket finished. But

working with fine threads was something suitable

for me, then I could make things for which

I really felt.

I furthermore remember how mother insisted

that I should learn how to make the really small

cheese mold, unna teivutj. She encouraged me to

collect my own roots for the unna teivutj, and this

challenge I liked because then I had to decide on my

own how much material I should gather. Mother

also mentioned that when making a cheese mold

one needs to split the roots. And since I had never

done any splitting of roots before, she suggested I

collect an extra lot of roots, as they tend to break

when one is inexperienced in splitting the roots.

When the cheese mold was completed, I had to

experience how to use it, after all it was an item for

usage. Therefore, when mother made cheese in her

molds I too was to make a small cheese in my newly

made mold. For she felt that it was necessary that I

had a chance to try out the function of the object. In

this way, I could even discover on the finished

cheese how beautifully decorated the cheese was

following the knotted pattern of the mold.

When we were out in the woods like this, mother,

moreover, told at great length about the old Sami

way of life. I try to do the same to my own daughtersand granddaughters, thereby inspiring them for

our craft tradition (figure 5).

Quite early, I felt a commitment to work actively

for the Sami culture. However, choosing basketry as

a main occupation required a great deal of planning.

For this reason, I continued my textile weaving to

provide an economic basis while I was extending my

proficiency as a full-time basketry maker.



10/20

Different jewelry made of roots was another pre-

condition in developing my skill and position as a

handicrafter. To be able to make large artifacts

which entails considerable time with no income, it

is necessary to make jewelry in between which are

readily sold. Making jewelry in basketry technique

represents part of my planning to become a full-

fledged handicrafter. To begin with, it was the jew-

elry made by the young aspiring craft makers

working in antler and horn which gave me the pri-mary impetus at the Sami Folk High School, where

the revival and refinement of Sami craft tradition

generally had started to flourish from the early

1950s onward. In fact, most innovations concerning

Sami craft emanate from this school.

Once I made a special necklace, which does not

look like any other I have made. It is made of par-

ticularly fine threads, where shape and decoration

have gradually evolved, nothing is founded on rou-

tine. It is very seldom that a jewel is made of such

thin threads all through. Normally, these thin roots

are only reserved for the central part, whereas at the

edge section somewhat coarser threads are em-

ployed. It was quite satisfactory to make something

entirely new. I do not think I will make more neck-

laces based on this model, it is too complicated and

should remain a unique piece; on the other hand, it

has given me a new idea when it comes to decorat-

ing the lid, especially for my characteristically

designed round basket. I feel that making this kind

of jewel has opened up new possibilities in my cre-

ative work. Even on the flat bottle, traditionally for

keeping salt, made of especially thin roots, this jew-

el could definitely be included as a decorative

element (figure 6).

The mixture of clean and unbarked (i.e. from

which the bark has not been removed) roots in

the elevated central part of the necklace and the

standing spiral-pad are significant features in the

composition. Both are ideas of my own. Spiral padsare extra hard to apply, in particular, when they are

standing as in this necklace. The spiral pad existed

before, but only inserted, turning out entirely flat on

the object. After having studied such pads

on ancient objects, e.g. in museum collections, I

decided to make something new, i.e. folded-up pads.

This gives a special effect, and on objects where

I feel it fits, I now place such folded-up spiral-pads,

5. Ellen Kitok in the woods gathering birch threads from

wind-fallen treesFthose which give the best quality

material for basketry craft and art. Photograph by the

author, 1972.

6. Necklace of birch roots, an example of a modern, pop-

ular object. This jewelry item shows the use of

particularly thin threads, also the mixing of threads with

bark removed and those with bark retained. Privately

owned. Photograph by Elisabeth Sletten.



11/20

especially on artifacts that are supposed to be

exceptionally costly. The large kisa, for instance,

shows four such pads on the lid, while the lid on the

oval unna karjatj has two.

At one time mother said, I have made three

large kisas, it would have been nice if you my

youngest daughter made a kisa. Within myself, Ifelt a sort of fire; I had to start pondering on the kisa

form, and it had to be quite clear before I started

making it, as I never draw any sketches on paper. I

felt I had to make a kisa, when mother gave me such

plain signals, and over the years she has given me

many such hints.

Talking about mixing of hue, mother was at first

very surprised when she saw that I kept the bark on

some of the threads. To a certain degree, she agreed

that it could be beautiful with the blending of colors

brought about, but she maintained that in the olden

days the roots were always cleaned, and we scraped

the roots most thoroughly. On the other hand, when

she saw a new piece of basketry by me she exclaimed

that here is another artifact with the bark left,

without difficulty one can recognize your craft

products.

Formerly, one used paint to emphasize ornamen-

tal impressions blending light and dark, thereby

trying to obtain a similar effect. I have chosen to re-

tain the bark on some of the threads, keeping to what

is natural. One should remember, however, that in

doing this one has to select the material very care-

fully, as the roots have to be absolutely knotless.

Since early childhood, I have learned all kinds of

hardship from my life in Sjaunja; it was quite obvi-

ous that I turned to basketry as my personal choice

for a trade. Because, this really means hard work.

The young people of our time do not have the same

life experience, they are brought up living a more

comfortable and easy life. This is probably one of the

reasons why it is so problematic to mobilize and in-

spire new generations to turn to basketry making.

Our Sami language is an important matter too;

it has to do so much with our culture. I often thinkin Sami when making basketry, it gives my craft

working more meaning. The Swedish language is

more like a must. The Sami language has to have a

place in my activity; to me it is utterly crucial. And

whenever I give courses I also use Sami. In situations

where all students know Sami, it is self-evident

that the teaching is done in Sami, or else the

instructions must be given in Swedish. However,

even then central concepts and phrases are intro-

duced in Sami, our natural tongue.

Apart from the economic aspect, equally essen-

tial is the cultural message I wish to convey. I want

to tell about the Sami life in general, how the Sami

struggle to protect our culture. Consequently, it is

my intention and desire to talk about all this withthe thin roots with which I form my basketry craft

and art. These ideas could not be communicated if I

only made modern items such as lampshades,

frames for mirrors, etc. Such foreign objects are

completely external to our culture, and I want my

basketry to be fully part of our culture. I feel con-

fined to the traditional shapes, at the same time

I eagerly promote new creations using the original

objects as point of departure. I want to speak

through my craft, which is far better than through

the use of words. The objects I make are my most

efficient language, as there is no limit to what I am

able to express with my handicraft productsFthat

which one can say using common words is far more

restricted. Through all things I make, my attempt is

to give a clear expression of the Sami culture. This is

mine and I belong to the Sami culture!

This completes the two-generation narrative

presented to elucidate traditional as well as contem-

porary Sami basketry craft and art. My emphasis

is laid on the individual person as preserver and

transmitter of appropriate knowledge and on the

individual as a locus of strength in terms of aes-

thetics, which is constantly paired with a candid

feeling for traditional values. In rounding out this

discourse on basketry knowledge, I now turn to the

specific artifact of special interest in this paper.

Once again, we approach this subject through the

voice of Ellen Kitok.

Comments by Ellen Kitok with Reference to theMini Kisaof 2003

In making this mini kisa, different ideas came to

my mind, all in various ways sources of inspiration.

First of all, I consider it a great honor to get this or-der from the Ethnographic Museum, where my

mother Asa already is represented by the kohpo

karja ordered back in 1972. It gave me extra inspi-

ration to know that the mini kisa I was about

to make would be placed in the same show-case in

which my mothers basket is displayed showing

Sami basketry traditions. Furthermore, I feel it is

important to be a living part of a family tradition,



12/20

which I sincerely hope I would be able to continue to

future generations. The legacy of Asa Kitok must

live on; everything I make and convey orally in di-

verse social encounters underlines the significance

of continuing this cultural achievement. The role

Asa Kitok has played as the unsurpassed pioneer

in reviving an ancient craft long forgotten hasdefinitely inspired me and my sister Margit in our

work. Her effort, when it comes to reviving Sami

basketry craft as recorded at great length in her

own narrative, serves as a constant source of inspi-

ration. Mother Asa recollected the basketry craft of

her aunt Kati Vitsak, known for her skill in wide

circles in an era when many women made basketry

objects mainly for their own household needs. The

only object left, an unna karjatj, obviously recurs as

an artifact inspiring me when making the mini kisa

(figure 4), even if the large wooden kisa appears as

the predominant source of inspiration.

Talking about wooden kisa, my grandfather, the

brother of Kati Vitsak, was a skilled craftsman,

especially doing woodwork. He made several kisas

and the one I have as a piece of furniture in our liv-

ing room here in Jokkmokk, in the same fashion as

it formerly had a central place in the tent, was ob-

tained from a distant relative a few years ago. It

was made between 1885 and 1890, and remains a

most precious item for me due to its kin attachment

in addition to its inspirational power (figure 2).

Even my father, Anders Kitok was a skilled wood-

worker, and he made kisas for all the daughters

except me who was the youngest. He died too early to

have the last one made.

I feel especially motivated making basketry art

in the kisa form; even if the function in modern

life has changed, the association to Sami cultural

history is still present. Conveying knowledge about

the importance of the kisa generally as part of the

traditional Sami way of life, therefore, becomes an

incentive for me. The large full-size kisa completely

made of roots in coiled technique, one of Asa Kitoks

most attentive new creations, is an equally impor-tant stimulus in developing my skill in basketry.

Let me also point out the inspiration that you,

Tom, provided me when ordering the mini kisa. In

an artifact like this, showing so many coiled tech-

niques and patterns, you made the point that one

should be able to read the object as an informative

text. Looking closely at the mini kisa I had just

completed and which was about to be delivered to a

customer you raised the question, why is not sairot

used, being the only one missing? That question

made me think a second time. I had already made

close to 20 mini kisas, all without applying the an-

cient weaving technique sairot. Now the question

you raised was an injection and important push in

my further creative work. In a way, sairot had beenput aside, especially in making more innovative,

refined handicraft. I am most grateful for your

observation, as I fully agree with you that sairot

definitely belongs, even in pure aesthetics as it rep-

resents the origin and roots of our craft.6

I understood that it had been a great failure to

omit this old technique. This was a problem that

had to be resolved, and during last winter it took me

a lot of mental exertion, for example, pondering on

the question where could it fit? This was a new

challenge I had to master, and when I finally

decided on placing sairot where the lid is closed,

tightly woven in several turns so that the lid snaps,

similar to putting the knife into a sheath made

of antler, I had solved the problem both in terms of

function and concerning the aesthetics, a solution

approved of by my older sister Margit.

In the future, all my mini kisas will contain

different techniques, including sairot thanks to you

Tom. For a long time, sairot was not used in more

refined basketry craft, only in replicas of traditional

objects. You gave me the idea and from now on it

will have its given place, in handicraft as well as

pure art, whenever applicable. Therefore, it is no

overstatement to consider this order as the most

important so far from a museum.

When it comes to weaving the mini kisa, let me

add, that I tried out different patterns. It is primarily

a question of placing the various techniques in cer-

tain order in the object that gives its ornamental

effects without the use of paint or engraving. All

the time, the basic form must be constructed, for

instance the oval shape of the kisa; at the same time,

the techniques applied must appear well balanced,

no extravagance in any way solely for decorativepurposes.

The mini kisa is made in two parts: the basket

and the lid, respectively. In making the lid, one be-

gins from the center at the top and ends at its edge,

in the same manner weaving the basket starts at the

center of the bottom and continues upwards follow-

ing the wall meeting the basis for the lid. The

striking complexity of this mini kisa is demon-



13/20

strated by the many transitions from one technique

to another employed; on the basket 7 and on the lid

15 transitions, i.e. no less than 22 in such a small

artifact. This certainly gives the object ornamental

impressions, which can only be accomplished by the

use of particularly thin roots.

So far, I have made ca. 20 similar mini kisas;it has turned out as a most appreciated piece of bas-

ketry handicraft, and out of that number 3 has been

made on order to museums, besides the last one to

the Ethnographic Museum the remaining two to two

leading Sami museums in Karasjok and Jokkmokk,

respectively. Let me then round up by describing in

some detail the making of the specific item to the Et-

hnographic Museum.

In July 2003, we went all the way up to Karesu-

ando to collect roots on the Finnish side of Karesu-

ando. I was accompanied by my husband Bertil and

our daughter Marta, who both regularly help me in

this arduous, time-consuming endeavor. As my aim

was to find the finest root material possible for this

particular mini kisa, I looked for land formerly

untouched. I knew about this particular area from

earlier courses I have given in Karesuando, courses

in basketry in which the students also learn how to

search for their own birch roots. We kept working for

two-and-a-half days and it was very long days. For

me, it was crucial to find untouched lands; this

order to the Ethnographic Museum called for

specially high quality, not the least concerning the

root material. Furthermore, it is necessary to have a

great supply at ones disposal from which one can

select continuously the best and most suitable

threads when weaving the basket.

JulyAugust is the time when the birch trees sap.

Then the sap also stays in the roots; even the varia-

tion in color is at its strongest at that time, which is

important in creating ornamental effects in the

weaving. It is also easier to take off the bark when

the roots are slightly moist compared with those la-

ter in the year.

What is it I am looking for in the terrain? I lookespecially for soft, mossy ground, not that which is

stony and hard. Sandy ground can also serve as an

alternative; however, this time such a choice would

be inappropriate as I was keenly searching for

threads offering marked change of hue. Wind-fallen

trees must be moist to give the roots right consis-

tency, therefore my preferred land is wind-fallen

trees in mossy ground where birch and pines domi-

nate, not mixed forest with plenty of spruce, where

wind-fallen trees are scarce to begin with. It should

also be underscored that it is impossible to decide

on imaginable root materials simply by looking

at the birch tree stocks, it is the property of the

ground that is decisive.

After the roots were collected, we put them inlarge plastic bags and brought them back to Jokk-

mokk. Then the roots were put in tubs filled with

cold water. Using cold water, the bark lets off very

easily. The scraping always takes place from the

thicker end of the thread to the thinner one and

against the knee using the blunt part of the knife.

Simultaneously, the roots are sorted in piles

according to their coarseness, not different shades

as that is already taken care of by the choice of land

and period for collecting the roots. Even supportive

threads are collected in the same place, as one is

bound to think holistically focusing on one specific

object, as in this case, when collecting materials.

Before scraping the roots, I covered the entire

floor with plastic in a special room I use for that

purpose. It took me three-and-a half-days, very long

days, to clean the roots. After that follows final

sorting, when the threads are wrapped in rings.

These rings are then hung up outside to dry, prefer-

ably on a sunny day. The threads finally cleaned

from bark cannot just be put away, then they will

get moldy. It is also necessary to avoid too long

intervals, working and preparing the material must

be completed without interruption, otherwise the

material may be destroyed. Several rings of

assorted roots are hung up on a thicker root to hang

for a day, after which the roots can be stored for any

length of time.

After these preparations, I began to work on the

mini kisa, first here at home in Jokkmokk, then

continuing in Vilhelmina, my husbands place of

origin and our regular stay for some weeks in the

late summer, where it was completed. I worked out-

doors, whenever the weather allowed, which is

unusual as most handicraft work is done indoorsduring the long winter time. To be certain that

I had enough material to pick from, I brought along

a large quantity. That which was not used I brought

back home, and two necklaces were made after the

mini kisa ordered by the Ethnographic Museum

had been completed.

The material I collected last summer for this

item is now stored up in three drawers in my work-



14/20

ing desk at my craft working corner (figure 7). In

conclusion, let me state that the roots applied for

this object were carefully selected from a most copi-

ous supply of material, in my view the very best for

this purpose.

Sources of inspiration referred to by Ellen Kitok

can thus be summarized as follows.

(1) An order from a particularly appropriatemuseumFthe museum that was the first everto order an artifact made by Asa Kitok. Fur-thermore, it is a museum where extensiveresearch on Sami basketry has been carriedout for some time. (2) The legacy of Asa Kitok.(3) The link to Asa Kitoks aunt, Kati Vitsak,the original basket maker known within thefamily. (4) The kisa as a materialized form mir-roring traditional Sami lifestyle.

To sum up this section, the knowledge discourse

presented above, heavily focusing on the native

voice, is an attempt at demonstrating the informa-

tive strength of what is referred to as intangible

heritage, relevant for the object implicated. People

actively engaged in basketry art, exhibit through

their narratives, extensive knowledge, and thoughtsthat lie behind the craft in question in addition to

their life ways in general. Thereby, the object is

placed in an appropriate context, its cultural setting.

Among the Sami, basketry artifacts constituted

at one time an essential part of their limited set of

utensils, highly useful in everyday life whereas, now

basketry of different quality and inventive shapes

represent in the main the undeniable vigor of Sami

aesthetics, both for external and internal enjoyment

and appreciation. And, in my opinion, without per-

sistently reinforcing the intangible heritage asso-

ciated with specific artistic products, the message

in speaking for the culture through objects would

be less efficient. Most people currently committed in

refining their handicraft tradition are well awareof the value of intangible heritage, stressing the en-

lightening aspect of art production.

The Scholarly Text in Relation to KnowledgeIn what way can a scholarly text be instrumental

in terms of managing and generating knowledge

that elucidates a specific cultural expression? With

a reference to the aforementioned monograph

(Svensson 1985), this aspect is explored as follows. I

will concentrate on the manner in which such a text

functions outside the scholarly community. The

book does not only offer an ethnographic account

regarding continuity and change in Sami basketry,

including an accurate history. My earlier study

emphasized an approach in which basketry is look-

ed upon as a way of life, not just an occupation. This

perspective has captivated the interest of many

Sami, as well as non-Sami, readers. Such a broader

perspective opens to a more variable use of the

text, in particular by the people that the book is

concerned with, with the explicit aim of transmit-

ting relevant knowledge. The book tries to convey

profound cultural insights, focusing on one form of

craft tradition observed throughone single family.

The text tells about the life that these people live

and have lived, not only describing their actual

craftwork activity.

Turning back to Asa Kitok, while she was herself

illiterate, she could become familiar with various

drafts of the text through the help of her daughters.

Consequently, she was aware of the essential con-

tents of the book and, over the years, she had been

able to follow the process through which the final

text was prepared. As a woman of few words,

she briefly summed up in the end that she wasvery pleased that her accomplishment concerning

basketry craft had been recorded and that she

had made an important contribution to the Sami

culture. She even felt a certain pride that her name

would live on thanks to the book. That my life has

been written down and is now preserved for future

generations is overwhelming thinking of my life

being extremely simple.

7. Ellen Kitok carefully splitting a thread at her craft

working corner, Jokkmokk. Like her mother, she is dres-

sed in a characteristic Gallivare costume. Photograph by

the author, 2003.



15/20

Appropriate knowledge that is systematically

compiled transforms a text into a source of inspira-

tion, both for the few who are already active in the

field and for all those who aspire to acquire enough

proficiency in basketry craft. Ellen Kitok, who for

years has taken on responsibility as a leading bas-

ketry instructor, maintains that the book has beenof great help. She considers it to be like a spring

from which to scoop endless insights thereby facili-

tating her efforts in presenting/demonstrating

Sami basketry duodje and its uniqueness. In

this respect, she points out that the life history of

Asa Kitok, which in her estimation was correctly

recorded and reproduced in the book, gives her an

opportunity to communicate (e.g. to her customers)

an adequate contextual and personal framework

for her baskets, thereby increasing their general

knowledge about the artifacts that they buy. Peo-

ples understanding of the Sami basketry craft in

general and its proper context, far beyond the con-

crete object purchased, is expanded through this

conveyance. That a scholarly text can be a source of

knowledge and inspiration is in no way unique. It is

sufficient to mention the renowned works of Franz

Boas (1927) and Bill Holm (1965) focusing on First

Nations and their art in the Northwest Coast of

America. As Michael Ames (1992:62) so evidently

ascertained, Indian carvers themselves both learn

and teach from the books of Boas and Holm, such

texts have directly impacted those who practice the

arts of the Northwest Coast.

Relating to the body of knowledge contained in

my earlier book, that which is most noticeable for

Ellen Kitok, is the life history of her mother Asa,

as it corresponds closely with her own perception of

the period of her upbringing in Sjaunja. This is a

pre-eminent memory for her whenever she is occu-

pied with basketry craft. This reminiscence, which

in a meaningful way stimulates, for instance Ellen

Kitok, both during the manufacturing of basketry

handicraft and in passing on verbally culture-

historical insights in different settings, is nowsecured by means of the book as evidence for the

future of Sami culture.

Among the Sami the book is widely read, and

long after it was out of print people still keep asking

for it. Children, grandchildren, and other relatives

to the active handicraft makers have read the book,

as have quite a few Sami living in the region who

were fairly well-informed beforehand about Asa

Kitok and her basketry craftmanship. One of Ellen

Kitoks granddaughters, Ann-Charlotte Labba,

who is the one most likely to take up and continue

the family tradition, wants to obtain a new, clean

copy of the book due to wear and tear from several

readings. For her, this is in part as an incentive to

get started in the basketry craft, and partly for herown children, as a piece of Sami relevant training.

As we see, then, the text is in demand among in-

terested Sami and non-Sami alike, as it has become

a historical document at work in the world.

In what other circumstances does the text func-

tion as knowledge intermediary? First of all, it is

used as an efficient educational tool, that is as a

textbook that is compulsory for aspiring Sami who

attend various craft courses in Sapmi, including at

the Sami Studies Centre, formerly the Sami Folk

Highschool, in Jokkmokk. Exhibitions and public

displays, even demonstrations in public, are other

settings in which the book supplements the arti-

facts shown. Besides these uses, the text has

turned out to have certain marketing effects; inde-

pendent readings of the book by various individuals

can bring about an interest for a kind of collectable

objects that would otherwise be more or less unfa-

miliar. As indicated by Ellen Kitok, some of her best

customers, recurring collectors, created an admi-

ration for contemporary Sami basketry art from the

reading of Asa Kitoks special life history. Her life-

destiny with all its hardship and forbearance no

doubt fascinates potential collectors.

Finally, the annual winter fair in Jokkmokk, a

historical event in the true sense with its 400 years

of uninterrupted tradition, attracting numerous

visitors, is definitely an occasion where the text

may serve as a marketing instrument promoting

Sami basketry handicraft.

To sum up, according to my Sami informants,

the text plays a manifold role in terms of indirect

marketing, in addition to being a thorough source

of knowledge, which, put together, to a great extent,

depends on its intimate nearness to the people dealtwith. And, in this respect, the large space given to

the native voice has proved to be decisive.7

Concluding RemarksIn this paper, I have tried to answer the question

whythe life history of Asa Kitok could have a sig-

nificant bearing on contemporary Sami basketry



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craft and art. Referring to a recently collected

artifact, a mini kisa made by Ellen Kitok, I have

recapitulated the essence of a rather extensive

narrative of Asa Kitok, illustrating a simple quite

ordinary Sami way of life, recorded at the zenith

of her basketry practice, thereby furnishing the

artifact with a sort of biography. More than 20years after she died, the legendary voice of Asa

Kitok, her practical achievements as well as her

thoughts, are still living examples of memorial cul-

ture. And it is no overestimation to maintain that

outstanding basketry art produced today can sure-

ly be classified as objects to remember by (cf. Radley

1990). For it is beyond any doubt that an object like

the mini kisa, to a great extent evokes memory, not

the least through pertinent knowledge expressed

by means of narratives. Knowledge in this sense

relates to ecology, technology and socio-cultural

setting. Consequently, my main point remains,

without peoples life history, selectively recorded,

there can be no biography of objects.

The knowledge attached to the mini kisa con-

tains both tangible heritage (the concrete object,

the material, techniques and shape employed, and

the association it may generate) and intangible

heritage(knowledge verbally presented in the form

of the narrative). Objects per se cannot speak for

culture; on the other hand, objects combined with

adequate words can most likely convey cultural

insight. This is far from unproblematical though,

because it may be extremely difficult for those who

are less familiar, or completely unfamiliar with the

culture in question when it comes to reading and

interpreting the imagined message about culture

transmitted through the artifact. Coping with this

kind of problem depends, in my opinion, on how

well words are fused with an object to form a uni-

fied body of knowledge. The text to be interpreted

by others not directly involved in basketry craft

must be comprehensible, offering life to the object

and enough insight to place the artifact in an

appropriate cultural context. In re-actualizing anearlier specialized study on Sami basketry (Svens-

son 1985) with its work through narratives, I have

attempted to demonstrate how such a text, several

years after it was published, may function for

different categories of peopleFactive basketry

makers, non-active Sami and interested non-Sami-

Fin this manner reinforcing the intangible

heritage related to Sami basketry tradition.

Thus, from a museum perspective, the collecting

of artifacts should always be associated with the

collecting of knowledge, and the informative part

of such knowledge derives from narratives told by

key persons. This approach is, in a sense, commen-

surate with what Cruikshank (1998) refers to as

the social life of stories.In strengthening the perspective of museums,

let me emphasize that the objects collected by the

Ethnographic Museum, the kohpo karja by Asa

Kitok (in 1972) and the mini kisa by Ellen Kitok (in

2003), are closely connected, not only because they

emanate from the same family but, furthermore,

because of the culture-specific knowledge attached

to them. The two artifacts represent Sami basketry

tradition as well as modernity as expressed by

the height of the revival-based, perfection-oriented

craft era and the currently emergent frontier of

basketry art, thus elucidating my thesis about the

relation between knowledge and object. This is sig-

nificant in making objects informative in museum

contexts, not the least for the reason that knowl-

edge is power in the words of Finenup-Riordan

(1998:56).

Another question to be raised has to do with

the distinction between artifact and art. Is the

mini kisa a piece of art, or is it simply an extremely

well-made artifact showing unquestioned cultural

characteristics? Responding to that question, let us

return once more to Asa Kitok and her basketry.

First of all, she developed an exceptional skill in

making true replicas of old style utility items;

secondly, she managed to try out new, to that

point unknown, designs in Sami basketry, though

all these showed an unmistakable signification of

Sami traditional lifestyle. Finally, she even per-

fected certain of the old coiled techniques practiced

by Sami women as the earliest phases of Sami

basketry history. She even became the first Sami

woman to make a living as a basketry maker as, in

the later part of her active life, she earned most of

her income from this invented trade. The productsof her activity never moved beyond what some

material culture scholars would call handicraft.

It is my view that she did not come close to that

which can be considered art based on basketry

techniques. The exhibitions that she has partici-

pated in, both when she was still alive and some

held many years afterwards as memorial manifes-

tations, emphasize clearly her position as a skilled



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and knowledgeable handicrafter. That the memory

of her achievement as an important transmitter

of Sami cultural heritage is still appreciated and

esteemed was brought up in 2005 with the exhibi-

tion Asa Kitok and her Daughters,Asa Kitok ja su

nieiddat (lending the title of my monograph),

in connection with the 400th anniversary of theJokkmokk Fair. In addition, an annual working

stipend in the name of Asa Kitok was instituted to

be administered by the Sami Duodje Foundation

based in Jokkmokk. This stipend, to be handed out

at the Jokkmokk Winter Fair, is meant to encour-

age and award funds to Sami living in Sweden who

are engaged in various forms of handicraft, not

exclusively basketry. Honoring her name in this

way, it is thought that the work and accomplish-

ment of Asa Kitok will live on.

Her daughters, on the other hand, and espe-

cially Ellen Kitok, show a thorough mastery of

the entire spectrum of Sami basketry craft and art.

For example, Ellen Kitoks participation in several

very spectacular and renowned exhibitions, in-

cluding those held, for instance, in connection with

international events, such as the World Cup in

downhill skiing in Gallivare and the Winter Olym-

pics in Lillehammer, and an exhibition at the

Midland Art Hall, Sundsvall (on this later occasion,

Ellen Kitok was presented as world champion in

birch root basketry art) clearly indicates that

several of her creations have been, and definitely

can be, perceived as art in its own right. Some of

her best works have also been displayed at the Na-

tional Gallery of Art, and at the famous Liljevalk

Art Hall, both in Stockholm. If nothing else, such

exhibitions are recognition and affirmation that

some of what Ellen Kitok creates is certainly under-

stood as art. Her innovative strength concerning

bold new designs and techniques reconfirms time

and again her unique position as a Sami artist, sol-

idly anchored in Sami traditions and exceedingly

well-versed in the management of appropriate

knowledge. Following the argument of Fred Myers(1999:267), the transfer from refined handicraft to

art can be viewed as a social process, it is as much a

question of external recognition as a qualifying

opinion based on subjective aesthetics expressed by

the handicraft creators themselves.

The movement from craft to art is illuminated by

James Cliffords model for the crossing of bound-

aries between ethnography and art (Clifford 1988).

An object such as the mini kisa can be regarded as

having both an ethnographic (artifactual) dimen-

sion and an aesthetic dimension (Myers 2002:158).8

The instance of the mini kisa also concurrently

relates to different regimes of value (after Appadurai

1986) in that:

(1) it is subject to Sami admiration and pride.(2) it appears as a precious collectable for pri-vate customers, and (3) it is included in amuseum collection as an item representative ofa specific culture.

In the Sami case, two sets of transformations

can be discerned. The first relates to persons and

Sami lifestyles. In her long life course, Asa Kitok

experienced the life of nomadic reindeer herding,

followed by a sedentary livelihood based on fishing

and gathering, and finally, the life of an active craft

manufacturer. Her daughter Ellen Kitok experi-

enced a similar change of lifestyle. First, her

childhood as a sedentary Sami, then building her-

self up as a craftperson bringing forth the legacy

of her mother and, in the end, her role as a fully

acknowledged artist in Sami basketry art.

A final question remains. Is individual skill and

originality, so firmly stressed in this article, com-

patible with the problems of representation and

authenticity (cf. Cohodas 1999)? Irrespective of

individual excellence in the making of basketry

craft and art, as long as the artist is fully aware

of the fact that she belongs to a distinct culture

and that whatever she produces reflects her

cultural background, her items of art must be re-

garded as representative of current Sami culture.

As a consequence, they are also authentic. The as-

pect of representiveness is not based on quantity.

Providing that an artifact can be linked to enough

associated knowledge, it can certainly speak for a

culture, regardless of whether there are many or

utterly few who in fact have manufactured, or are

capable of making, the art or craft product. Let me

end this discussion by stating that two objectscollected by the Ethnographic Museum, University

of OsloFone by Asa Kitok (figure 8) and one by

Ellen Kitok (figure 1) can be classified quite differ-

ently as handicraft and art, respectively. They both

serve as authentic artifacts representing tradi-

tional as well as contemporary Sami culture. On

the one hand, the objects shed light on a nomadic

way of life experienced in the past mainly through



18/20

the herding of reindeer and on the other, the objectsreflect the role of active fulltime handicrafters

exclusively making basketry craft or art. As shown,

the dynamic process indicating continuity and

change regarding Sami basketry craftsmanship

can most readily be comprehended by means of

a systematic merger of tangible heritage with in-

tangible heritage, or in Cruikshanks words both

words and things have an ongoing role in repro-

ducing contemporary culture (1995:28).9

Notes

1. Referring to a single artifact as a point of departure for abiographic approach, thereby attaining a fairly completeunderstanding of the type of object in question, is a stan-dard method that has been used widely before. See, forinstance, the work of Mackenzie (1991) and Hoskins(2006). The designation mini kisa should be understoodas a small-size box made of roots. It should, moreover, bementioned at the outset that all terms and phrases givenin Sami derive from central, or Lule, Sami. The reason forthis is that the persons concerned speak Lule Sa mi. Inaddition, the Sami basketry revival emanates from theLule Sami district.

2. The biographic perspective of objects goes back to the in-fluential writings of Arjun Appadurai (1986) introducingthe programmatic thesis the social life of things. Seealso Igor Kopytoff (1986), a contributor to the above-mentioned book, who makes the precise point that biog-raphies of things and those of persons can relate to thesame kinds of cultural questions. Finally, in a recentlypublished handbook of material culture (2006), JanetHoskins, clearly inspired by Alfred Gell (1998), takes theissue a step further connecting agency with biography(Hoskins 2006). She, moreover, distinguishes the anthro-

pological approach to that of art history and archeology,in which the former underscores a narrative indicatinghow certain objects are perceived by the persons that theyare linked to. In the following, a great bulk of my pre-sentation refers to a great extent to peoples ownperception and valuation of the working process manu-facturing the artifacts as well as the final product and, toa certain degree, even to its future life. Thanks to the par-ticularly long time span in my case, more than 30 years ofdata collecting, persons oral history continuously informthe objects gradually shaping their biography.

3. For the sake of information, the two dissertations (thefirst of which has been published as a book) are titledSouth Sami Ornamentation(Dunfjeld 2006) andDuodje:

Handicraft as Visual Experience of an Indigenous People(Guttorm 2001).

4. Franz Boas (1927) was probably the first anthropologistwho clearly pointed out the close relation between tech-nical skillFwhat he called virtuosityFand artisticexpression, referring, for instance, to the case of Pomobasketry in California, a chief industry for the Pomo peo-ple that was extremely well-developed.

5. All the narratives presented in this paper should not beperceived as simple interview transcripts. They are basedon several encounters undertaken in different appropri-ate settings in which semi-focused conversations wererecorded. Setting, thus included situations such as workout in the woods collecting root materials, work in thekitchen scraping the roots and finally during the process ofshaping basketry works. These recordings were slightlyedited to produce a readable as well as authentic text.These texts have been verified by the people concerned.

6. Sairot is the original weaving technique used by theSami. It is inspired by contact with the sedentary Nordicpeople andis the only technique using a single supportingthread. From this more or less universal technique (it isfound, for instance, among several African and North

American cultures), the Sami developed their own weav-ing patterns meeting their practical needs and aestheticsatisfaction. (figure 9)

7. Janet Hosk

Svensson - Knowledge and Artifacts People and Objects

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