According to the National Gallery of Art’s website, “the Index of American Design comprises 18,257 watercolor renderings of American folk and decorative arts objects from the colonial period through 1900…this visual archive of a ‘usable past’ documented woodcarvings, textiles, whirligigs, weathervanes, and other objects from thirty-four states in six regions of the US: the West Coast, Rocky Mountains, Midwest, South, New England, and New York.” Given their place in the NYC Municipal Archives, I think it’s safe to say the artworks I encountered are based on objects from the New York area. But, unfortunately, the artworks did not give me much to go on. This is what really interested me—for most of the murals in the WPA archives, the artist is often noted on the reverse of the print, and sometimes the date or even location. But for the Index of American Design prints, more often than not I was left wondering who created these artistic renderings of a “usable past,” as the NGA so aptly puts it. The watercolors are mostly of domestic objects: furniture, kitchenware, quilts, etc. and after reviewing my folder, I found I had more questions than answers.

I believe that what is omitted from the archive says as much about society as what is included, and this case is a great example of the former. Why, I wonder, were the artists of so many of these works not recorded, as opposed to other types of artworks such as the murals? It is not as if the drawings were simply dashed off, either—each includes a high level of detail and what appears to be great technical skill. I have long been interested in the artifacts of everyday life, such as the decorative arts, because I believe the mundane often tells us more about life than anything else. After all, don’t we surround ourselves with regular objects, each of which has been designed and created with ordinary life in mind? My first instinct is to attribute the anonymity of these artists to the general dismissal American society often has for the domestic, the craft arts, the traditionally feminine. But one thing is clear: I will have to do much more digging into the Index of American Design to get my answers.

This text places this photograph as a promotional image for the mural, and the larger project of the entire WPA. Reading this image with a caption brought these images from the archive into the political and social world of America in the context of the New Deal. Many of the images of murals seem to be intended for an archive because most of the images document the finished murals within the spaces. Looking through the photographs, it felt as though they functioned as documents, rather than promotional images. The photograph with the caption however shifted this perspective. The language used restates the importance of art within society, almost validating the Federal Art Project as much as attempting to focus productive creative acts as “normal”, or implied as healthy “pursuits.” The caption included with this image illustrates the ideologies of the murals and how the photography was used to further the ideology of the WPA.

It was the Hebrew Orphan Asylum mural that I came across while working on the WPA collection last week. Karp completed the mural, titled “Armed with Learning and Reality, Looking from the Past to the Future” in 1938. It’s massive, spanning 1,500 feet over seven sections of wall. But what really interested me about this mural was the documentation of Karp’s process I found in the Archives. Many of the photographs were detail shots of the mural, but there were also several candid photographs of Karp showing his mural to groups of people and even painting. It stunned me how this documentation altered my perception of the mural—after seeing these photos of Karp at work, the mural no longer seemed to just be a static piece on a wall. It instead became a dynamic artwork in conversation with its surroundings, a massive mural that people in fact made with their own hands. These candid photographs really contextualized the mural for me. Seeing Karp leaning from a shabby wooden scaffold, putting the finishing touches on a section of the mural with a tiny paintbrush, I began to realize more fully just how much work went into these murals, and the many hours of labor involved. It is easy to see a photograph of an artwork and imagine it as existing in a vacuum. But these process photographs posture the mural as an artifact of its time and serve as concrete evidence of Karp’s labor. As basic as it may seem, viewing the photographs of Karp presenting groups of children his mural reminded me that this is an artwork real people interacted with, and one that had a place in their lives.

Image of P.S 127

Model of Newark Airport Foyer by A. Gorky

When Federal Project Number One was terminated in 1939, the Federal Art Project survived and was renamed the WPA Art Program, continuing under that name until it stopped operating in June of 1943.

While much of the artwork created under the WPA Federal Art Project has since been lost, many pieces have been cataloged by the Living New Deal, an organization dedicated to uncovering and presenting New Deal public works. Plenty of works have also been archived by institutions such as New York City’s very own Department of Records and Information Services (DORIS)!

In 1918 Rankin travelled to New York to visit her mother, a recent widow, and her older sister. In September she made the decision to remain in New York City in order to support her family. By January 1919, her job as assistant to NYPL director Edwin Anderson had transformed into an appointment as assistant librarian at the city’s Municipal Reference Library (MRL). Within one year, her supervisor resigned and recommended to Mayor Hylan that “Rebecca Browning Rankin who has shown marked ability” replace him—she officially became municipal reference librarian on Valentine’s Day in 1920, a mere two years after her “vacation” to New York. Everything, it seemed, was falling into place for Rebecca Rankin. But she wasn’t one to stay content—Rankin had strong convictions about how a government should keep its records, and big dreams for the historical materials of New York City.

One of the first things Rankin noticed when she began working at the MRL was the city’s “lack of space for archival storage,” as Barry W. Seaver writes in his 2010 article in The Cultural Record, “Rebecca Rankin's Campaign for a Municipal Archives in New York, 1920–1952.” The ever-proactive Rankin knew she had to act fast. Seaver quotes her as saying, “Right away I had to find room in the basement [of the Municipal Building] to have these things moved down there.” Rankin is credited as the woman who rescued the “early Mayors” series and the Common Council papers, named by Kenneth R. Cobb on the NYC Department of Records and Information Services blog as “two of the most notable Municipal Archives core collections.”

As she made progress on transforming the way New York City took care of its records, Rankin was also cultivating a relationship with Fiorello H. La Guardia, then the president of the Board of Aldermen. In his quest to consolidate the city’s transit system, La Guardia often found himself calling Rankin for her and the MRL’s help in his research and, thanks to Rankin, was able to propose such a system at his second annual message to the Board of Aldermen. Years later in 1939, Rankin tackled the mess in the basement of City Hall for a third time and decided it was time for a change. La Guardia was now the mayor of New York City, and because of his familiarity with New York’s historical records he readily agreed to Rankin’s request for a program to care for the city’s records. He created the Mayor’s Municipal Archives Committee, and appointed Rankin Chair. The Committee did not gain much traction due to steel shortages and other war-time efforts, but after World War II the new Mayor William O’Dwyer reinstated the Committee and restored Rankin to her position as Chair. She was tasked with developing a model for government record management programs, and Rankin delivered; by 1950 she had created a record retention manual and a records manager training course, and by 1951 shelving and archival boxes were purchased. Considering the many years she put into transforming New York City’s records management, it is fitting that Rankin’s career culminated in her dreams coming true. On June 30, 1952, two major events occurred: The Municipal Archives and Records Center formally opened, and Rebecca Rankin retired.

Information in this post comes from a post on the NYC Department of Records & Information Services blog titled “Rebecca Rankin” by Kenneth R. Cobb dated March 30, 2018, as well as the 2010 Barry W. Seaver article “Rebecca Rankin's Campaign for a Municipal Archives in New York, 1920–1952” published in The Cultural Record. Special thanks to Sylvia Kollar for all her help and resources.

Our WPA mural artist, Edward Laning was born in Illinois and attended Art School in Chicago. Laning and his two assistants James Rutledge and Albert Soroka were chosen by the Commissioner of Immigration & Naturalization, Rudolph Reimer to complete the murals for the Ellis Island Dining Room in 1935. Work was completed in 1937. Most of the mural was ruined by a storm, and the salvaged pieces were restored and installed at the Brooklyn Federal Courthouse where they remain to this day. 

From my research in the NYC Archives, I found photographs showing three of the panels featured in the mural. One panel features men clearing land and lumber, with picturesque homes sitting silently in the background. The work and reward are on clear display as we the homestead provided by these mens toil to make building development possible. The next features settlers clearing the path for many to come as they seek new opportunities and land while a native american man looks on in the distance. A comment perhaps on not only the achievements of our immigrant ancestors, but what they took from others as well. Finally, we see the building of a railroad and the tilling of fields for crops. Honest labor, that was back breaking but secured the United States future in technological development and cross country travel, as well as the development of today’s farming methods. These panels are clear examples of how our modern day United States has benefitted over the lifespan of our country from those that moved here seeking a new life of their own. 

I believe the spirit of Laning’s mural and many other artists of the Federal Art Project continues at Groundswell, “a NYC-based organization that brings together youth, artists, and community organizations to use art as a tool for social change, for a more just and equitable world.” While most of the art from the F.A.P. communicated a message, Groundswell specifically targets “social justice centered” artists who want to help with “community collaboratively created art.” I spoke with Yana Dimitrova, an artist, who has worked with Groundswell and she shared the “Scaffold Up!” model that helps shape the murals. The “4 C’s” (Collaboration, Critical Thinking, Creativity, and Compassion) are the foundation for this model and work to “engage underserved, marginalized and economically disadvantaged youth in public art-making to gain the inspiration, tools and agency to take ownership of their futures,” “To link personal expression to community activism, resulting in high quality work that conveys compelling messages + concerns of youth + partners,” and “To catalyze change for a more just and equitable world in collaboration with partner organizations by raising awareness, stimulating learning, and building community.” One such mural, “I Just Want to Come Home” was installed in Bushwick and sought to foster “police-civilian” relations. From the website, “The mural utilizes the phrase I Just Want To Come Home as its rallying call to action, inspired by their interview with police from the 90th Precinct. The youth asked What do you think about when getting ready for work? to which one officer responded, I just want to come home at the end of the day.” “Within the words are faces of the artists and local community members, which bring a focus to Bushwick as an important site for reflection, debate, and activism.” Like Laning’s mural, Groundswell’s “I just Want to Come Home” sheds light on a tense topic and tries to create a conversation. By creating opportunities for a community to talk,  Groundswell’s work promotes a greater understanding of one another and takes us one step further towards an answer to some our nation’s societal issues. 

Groundswell’s “I Just Wanna Come Home” - https://www.groundswell.nyc/projects/i-just-want-to-come-home-88

The Poster Project

The WPA’s Poster Project allowed technical techniques to produce images of the great aspects of our nation. While images of our national parks, encouragement to be healthy, and work for your community are shown, the posters themselves are a true outcome of craftsmanship, design, and originality. They suddenly act as a stimulating influence for becoming a decent citizen.

The Federal Arts project was commissioned to create sculpture for the courtyard of the building. The resulting work is a series of animal sculptures, including and baboon and seal by Adolf Wolff. In 1974, the buildings were designated as a national historic landmark. 

In addition to being the first low income housing project in the country, the demolishing of dilapidated Victorian era tenements and subsequent installment of more modern housing represent the first project undertaken by the newly formed New York City Housing Authority, which still exists today. Although the project was originally meant to be a “gut rehab,” where the old tenement buildings would be restructured, the architect found that the existing structures were too delicate for this plan to be plausible, and the Houses were built from scratch. They were designed with rear exits in order to provide more light and air circulation than the previous buildings, as well a courtyard with a playground, where the federal arts project sculptures were installed. 

The buildings also represent a legal milestone in New York State, which gave the housing authority the right to exercise eminent domain to forcibly buy properties from their owners in order to get rid of buildings which provided a significant menace to public health. 

His artwork and activism are now widely forgotten and his sculptures for the Federal Art Project are some of the few remaining pieces of his work with known whereabouts. 

Wolff’s presence in the New York art scene starts in 1912, when the artist was teaching at The Ferrer School in Harlem. This was the most radical anarchist school in New York City at a time when many artists and creatives were adopting the anarchist ideology. The school was unique in that it both held art classes for children during the day, some of which taught by Wolff, and socially radical classes for adults at night, which Wolff attended. The school hosted notable guest lecturers, including birth control activist Margaret Sanger, author Upton Sinclair and noted anarchist Emma Goldman. Wolff was one of the schools most active participants, teaching and attending classes as well as editing the school’s publication “The Modern School.”

Some of the only descriptions of Wolff’s character come from his close friend, the artist Man Ray via Ray’s autobiography. Ray described Wolff as “A kind and gentle man” despite his gruff and stern air. Wolff wrote poetry to be published in the school’s magazine, as well as other anarchist publications, but the work was critically panned. 

Wolff’s view of sculpture as a means of propaganda and activism is most clear in a project completed in 1914 after his involvement in the “Lexington Avenue Explosion,” an accident which occurred where three artists were killed while attempting to create bombs to be used in an anti-Rockefeller action. Wolff designed an urn for the ashes of his three slain friends, Arthur Caron, Carl Hansen, and Charles Berg, which was a pyramid shape with a clenched fist rising out of the top. This image was used as the cover of Emma Goodman’s publication “Mother Earth” in July of 1914. 

After the success of this project, Wolff was contracted to create a similar urn for Sacco and Vanzetti, two executed Italian anarchists, in 1927. 

Despite the intensely political nature of Wolff’s work and his close ties to powerful anarchist figures and artists of the day, his work has been mostly forgotten. Ironically, two of his few remaining sculptures on view in the courtyards of The First Houses Public Housing Project, which he created as part of the Federal Arts Project, are apolitical animal statuary. 

This demonstration at the National Archives of Japan shows how the archival document is sandwiched between sheets of extremely thin paper. Then, blended fiber is dissolved in a large quantity of water and the document is placed in the machine. The water with the fiber is then run over the document and fills any exclusions in the paper as well as strengthening it. 

I also came across this video of the Illinois state archivist, Dottie Hopkins-Rehan, discussing some of the basics of paper conservation. 

She begins by answering an important question which we were all familiar with the answer to after our time at the Municipal Archives: why no gloves? Although gloves are still worn for handling photos, antique documents can be properly assessed with gloves on. With the barrier of a glove between you and the document, it becomes impossible to feel the quality and exact needs of the paper in order to properly treat it. The conservator also mentions that the gloves are “one size fits all” and as such do not fit her properly, which could lead to damage in the long run due to lack of dexterity. 

The process begins by humidifying the document in order to soften and then flatten the paper. An archival document can not simply be unfolded due to its delicacy and the possibility for damage.

Here, the conservator shows an at home method to humidify the document using a sealed container and a damp towel. 

After flattening the documents, it is important to clean them. Even if the dirt on a document is not obscuring it’s information, it can act as an abrasive which will erode the paper over time. As such, the documents must be cleaned. First, the conservator uses a soft bristled brush to remove a majority of the dirt. More stubborn dirt is removed using ground art gum eraser with is gently worked over the surface of the document. The final level of stubborn dirt can be cleaned with a regular pink pencil eraser. 

The next step involves removing an extraneous objects, like rubber bands and staples, using a micro spatula tool. 

Now the document must be stored using an acid free folder with a pH between 7.5 and 10. It is important to label any folders in pencil in order to avoid any acid from ink leaching into the archival document.