Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry by Newcomb Art Museum

February 19 – June 25, 2022

Core Memory

1 Louisiana Native American Basketry

FEATURING OVER 100 WORKS BY

Elsie Battise Lelia Battise Marjorie Abbey Battise Cyril Billiot Ivy Billiot Thomas A. Colvin John Paul Darden Scarlett Darden Marie Dean Douglas Fazio Rose Fisher Greer Dena Foret Rosa Jackson Pierite Bessie John Elsie John Marion John Mathilde Johnson

Anna Mae Juneau Jeanette Langley Lorena Langley Ronald Langley Celestine Robinson Doris Robinson Darlene Langley Robinson Janie Verret Luster Claude Medford, Jr. Rosaline Medford Elisabeth Pierite Joyce Poncho Gladys Celestine Shutt Elizabeth Marie Thompson Dorothy Thompson Myrna Abbey Wilson Unknown Artists

DIRECTOR'S STATEMENT By Maurita N. Poole, Ph.D. Executive Director, Newcomb Art Museum of Tulane University With the dual exhibition Core Memory, Newcomb Art Museum draws attention to woven technologies as foundational sites of memory, consciousness, and the transmission of culture. The show is significant because it builds upon our history as an institution highlighting artistic practices traditionally associated with women that push the boundaries of art and design. It extends beyond the museum’s origin and design, whiel foregrounding the work of under-recognized artists whose aesthetic practices did not originate in Europe. This arts initiative is to be understood as an introduction to a new vision of the museum as an institution that prioritizes a broad range of artistic praxis, in particular that which is deeply rooted in the American South. The Louisiana Native American Basketry section of Core Memory disrupts the idea that Indigenous basketry is not a contemporary practice. These baskets, and Indigenous crafts traditions, as presented by co-curators Laura Blereau, Dayna Bowker Lee, PhD, and Teresa Parker Farris become more than products that highlight historical practices and forms of expression. These works are evidence of technological systems—or the sum of techniques, skills, and methods—that inform Native American practices that have existed for millennia. Because of the curators’ rigorous research of collections throughout the state of Louisiana, we are given insight into a treasury of information about Indigenous aesthetic practices as well as the nuances of line, texture, and surface that are a part of the different Native American communities’ crafts traditions. Core Memory opens new and provocative questions about historic and contemporary Indigenous peoples based within the boundaries of Louisiana. By examining the baskets in relation to contemporary weaving and fiber arts informed by computational systems, we encourage a reflection on the core elements, or essence, of diverse forms of expression and technology. On behalf of Newcomb Art Museum, I express gratitude to the co-curators, artists represented in the exhibition, and the funders of the exhibition and accompanying programs. The project would not have been successful without the input of the Indigenous partners as well as Dayna Bowker Lee and Teresa Parker Farris’ longstanding commitment to studying Native American cultural and aesthetic traditions. More significantly, we are grateful to the elders and culturebearers whose work has sustained these traditions over many centuries and whose practices make the exhibition possible. Cover: Myrna Abbey Battise demonstrating how to weave a pine needle basket in the Coushatta tradition, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee. Opposite: Installation view of Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry, curated by anthropologist Dayna Bowker Lee, Ph.D. and folklorist Teresa Parker Farris.

3 Unless otherwise noted, all photos in this publication are by Owen Murphy and appear courtesy of the Newcomb Art Museum of Tulane University, New Orleans.

Universal Forms The utilitarian origins of baskets often point to the commonality of human behaviors across expanses of time and space. Fanners—like similarly functional burden and storage baskets—represent such forms and are manifest in the cultural history of peoples the world over. These large shallow baskets allow for a diffuse, level distribution of contents and have long been used in analogous fashion: to clean and sift grains, legumes, fruits, and other harvested foods. This grouping of fanner baskets reveals the form’s shared utility amongst Louisiana’s Tribal communities while still bearing the marks of individual weaving traditions.

Handwoven baskets in the Chitimacha, Coushatta, Houma, Choctaw, and Tunica-Biloxi traditions. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited fanner basket with Makx Naakx (Little Trout, also known as Little Perch) and Waxtik Kani (Cow’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Joyce Poncho. Plaited Alimpá (fanner basket), 1998. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea), iɫaní. Courtesy of a private collection. Dena Foret. Braided fanner basket, c. 2015. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of a private collection. Elsie Battiest. Plaited Ufko (fanner basket), 1992. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Unknown Artist, Tunica. Sieve, no date. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Anthropology Department.

Dynamic map data by Dana Bowker Lee, 2022. Baselayer historic map: Louisiana by Matthew Carey, 1814. Adaptation licensed under Creative Commons, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0. Image source: David Rumsey Map Collection, David Rumsey Map Center, Stanford Libraries.

Pictured left to right, three works courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University: Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Jekt Kani (Blackbird’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited small utilitarian basket, c. 1890– 1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited small 8 utilitarian basket with Kaastp Qapx Tohn (Broken Plaits) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951.

EVERY BASKET TELLS A STORY FIVE NATIVE AMERICAN BASKETRY TRADITIONS IN LOUISIANA By Dayna Bowker Lee, Ph.D. Native American basketry may be the oldest

provide transportation and facilitate

sustained artistic tradition in Louisiana,

gathering of pine needles on federally

predating even ceramics. Basketry plays a

held lands, offer classes taught by master

prominent role in the corpus of traditional

weavers, and repurchase heirloom baskets

stories by which Native Americans remem-

to bring them home.

ber and transmit cultural heritage. Every 1

Indigenous Nation based in the state had a basketry tradition, and generations of weavers in Louisiana have used rivercane, grasses, cypress, or pine needles to create works of great utility and artistry. Baskets come in an astonishing array of forms and sizes, from those as small as a button to huge double-walled baskets so tight they were said to hold water. Indigenous basketry was traditionally a gendered technology—“women’s work”—but in recent years men have been drawn to the artform they learned from their mothers, grandmothers, and cherished elders. Every basket tells a story of the culture, environment, and experience of its maker.

Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry brings together works from five Indigenous Nations recognized for sustained preservation of their vibrant weaving traditions: Chitimacha, Choctaw, Coushatta, Tunica-Biloxi, and Houma. By casting light on more than thirty Native American fiber artists, the exhibit showcases works from Tulane’s Middle American Research Institute—including Chitimacha baskets acquired in the early 1900s by members of the Tabascoproducing McIlhenny family—as well as an array of objects from private and public collections statewide. The exhibit pairs exemplary contemporary practitioners from each tradition with their artistic pre-

Although rooted in the ancient past, Native

decessors to offer a nuanced understand-

American basketry traditions are very

ing of the innovations specific to individual

much alive in Louisiana where weavers

weavers and weaving families.

still use local materials to create works of tremendous beauty. Recognizing the unique value of basketry to embody and communicate identity and pride, Tribal governments in Louisiana now support programs to replant cane on trust lands,

Through recorded oral histories, six profiled contemporary weavers elucidate the transmission of traditional knowledge. These artists intentionally draw upon a deep reservoir of cultural history learned, both directly and indirectly, from their ancestors. Their

1 Carpenter 2017; Labarge 1975:388, 395; Turnbaugh and Turnbaugh 1999.

Paul Hammersmith, French Market N.O. Feb. 91, February 1891. Albumen process photograph. Courtesy of The Historic New Orleans Collection, Gift of Mary Louise Hammersmith, 1977.79.13.

creations serve as important emblems—and transmit living cultural identity in dialog with tradition, from one generation to the next. These artists’ insights inform the processes and imperatives of cultural conservation by Native Americans in Louisiana today. While the complex interplay between identity, artistic expression, and commerce has had lasting effects on basketry traditions, the dedication of Native American weavers in our state ensures that basketry will remain meaningful and vital for the generations yet to come.

Regional History of Indigenous Basketry Native Americans once utilized basketry in diverse ways integral to daily life. Mats became walls that separated living areas, served as bedding and seating, defined ceremonial spaces, and carefully cradled the dead for interment. Baskets were used for gathering, winnowing, and sifting grains, storing foods and medicines, and safeguarding personal or ceremonial items. Work baskets were largely undecorated, but weavers also created highly embellished basketry with complex zoomorphic

Left: Houma weaver, Mrs. Gustave Jaud, making palmetto baskets to supplement her family’s income, no date. Louisiana Works Progress Administration Collection, State Library of Louisiana. Right: Christine Navarro Paul making double-woven basket with Gusbi Suqu (Muscadine Rind) design, circa 1900. Mary McIlhenny Bradford and Sara Avery McIlhenny marketed and distributed the baskets pictured to the benefit of the weavers and the Chitimacha Tribe. Photo courtesy of McIlhenny Company Archives, Avery Island, Louisiana.

and/or geometric designs interwoven

the work of their Native American counter-

using splints of cane bathed in colors they

parts whose baskets married functionality

derived from plants or minerals.2 Weavers

with visual delight. Evidence of their

made baskets for community use, trading

desirability is found in colonial household

or gifting baskets to friends and family; but

inventories where paniers (baskets) of

basketry was commodified when Native

Indigenous manufacture were ubiquitous.3

Americans entered an exchange-based

A few rare examples survive today as

economy with colonists. Europeans newly

treasured family heirlooms.4 Highly skilled

arrived in this unfamiliar land recognized

weavers began to trade or sell their baskets

the utility of Indigenous technologies, and

in the markets of New Orleans, securing a

colonial women particularly appreciated

place in the new economy.5

2 Hatcher 1927:56; Le Page du Pratz 1758 [2]:182–183; Swanton 1942:156-157. 3 For example, inventory and sale of belongings of the late Jean de Bois, August 31, 1734; Inventory of the deceased Louis Juchereau de St. Denis, June 16, 1744, loose documents; Inventory of Julien Rondin, January 3, 1757, Volume 1, Bound Conveyances, Natchitoches Parish Clerk of Court. 4 Fuqua 2006. 5 Usner 1998:132, 135.

The Indigenous cultural landscape in

sometimes adapting materials and tech-

Louisiana was transformed by colonialism, as

niques based upon their new environs.

competition with other Indigenous Nations, wars, captive-taking, and Europeanintroduced epidemic diseases spurred migrations, reshaped settlement areas, and reconfigured alliances.6 As early as 1702, French entrepreneur Louis Juchereau de St. Denis and his Canadian troops began raiding Chitimacha villages in Grande Terre (Barataria) for captives he sold as slaves in Mobile. St. Denis’ actions precipitated a twelve-year war, settled by treaty in 1718 only when the Chitimacha were forced to cede their territory between the Mississippi River and Bayou Lafourche in order to protect the new capital of New Orleans.7 The Houma and the Tunica abandoned the Yazoo and Ouachita basins to settle on the Mississippi River by the late seventeenth century. Both groups would stabilize their declining populations, adopting families from once-powerful nations decimated by conflict and disease.8 Choctaw people who crossed the Mississippi River to hunt and trade began to put down roots in Louisiana, followed by the “petite nations” including the Biloxi and Coushatta who, after 1763, migrated from present Mississippi and Alabama.9 These immigrant Tribes brought their own basketry traditions with them,

The Louisiana Purchase had profound consequences for Native Americans as the shift from a trade-based economy to agriculture brought an influx of settlers who overran Tribal territories, prompting small Tribes remaining in Louisiana to withdraw from major population centers.10 While weavers frequented the urban markets of New Orleans less often than in the past, they cultivated smaller local markets and worked with patrons (and, later, social scientists) who could introduce their baskets to broader audiences. Basketry remained a mainstay for family and Tribal economies as well as a visible expression of cultural identity in the Jim Crow South. Even as poverty, racism, and diminishing resources threatened artistic traditions, Louisiana’s Native American weavers have worked diligently through the twenty-first century to keep those traditions alive.11 The Chitimacha Tribe of Louisiana The federally recognized Chitimacha Tribe has continuously inhabited a portion of their ancient homelands from the time before contact. The Chitimacha claimed a

6 La Harpe 1971:26, 100-101; McWilliams 1981:122; Usner 1992:16. To learn more about the effects of colonialism on Indigenous people and nations in Louisiana and the Southeast, see additional sources including Etheridge and Shuck-Hall (2009); Galloway (2006); Giraud (1953–1991); Kniffen et al. (1987); Kinnaird (1946); Le Page du Pratz (1758); Lee (2001, 2009, 2012, 2017); McWilliams (1981); Milne (2015); Ramenofsky (1988); Shuck-Hall (2008); Swanton (1911, 1942); Usner (1992, 2014). 7 Higginbotham 1977:83, 93-94; La Harpe 1971; Lee 2012:80-83; Swanton 1911:337-338, 1952:203; Usner 1998:24. 8 Brain 1988; Galloway 1987:23, 28; Gravier 1700:145; La Harpe 1971:100-101; Kniffen et al. 1987:63-66; Weddle 1987:57 59. 9 Barbry 2017; Bienville 1725:535; Celestine 2017; Halbert 1893:148; Hunter 1994:11, 17–18, 25; Kniffen et al. 1987:83-85; May 2004:407; Shuck-Hall 2008:39-41; Usner 1998:69, 96-99, 72; WPA 1938:59. 10 Barbry 2017; Celestine 2017; May 2004; Klopotek 2017:21-22; Kniffen et al. 1987:83-98. 11 Colvin 2006:74-77; Langley and Bates 2021: 33-36; Lee 2006:48-55, 59-61; Pierite, et al. 2017:49-55; Usner 2015.

Top: Clara Darden with bundles of cane splints prepared for weaving, circa 1900. Courtesy of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University, 2004.24.26766B; and the McIlhenny Company Archives, Avery Island, Louisiana. Bottom: John Paul Darden, in a reestablished Chitimacha rivercane patch, gathering Arundinaria gigantea, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

a circumference greater than a quarter. Processed splints are very narrow and cane is twice-peeled, the weaver using his or her teeth to control tension. You’ve got to have the right feel when you’re peeling it. You can have it in your teeth and you can actually feel it separate. It’s the tension. The first peeling is not as delicate as the one after, but then... I have to use my teeth for the finer peeling. John Paul Darden, 2021

Splints are dyed before the second peel, restricting the design to one side of the finished basket. Only three colors—yellow, red, and black—are used in Chitimacha basketry, and only after the 1940s did aniline dyes largely replace dyes made from dock root Pauline Paul peeling cane, Chitimacha Day School, circa 1940. Caroline Dormon Collection, Cammie G. Henry Research Center, Northwestern State University, Natchitoches, Louisiana.

and black walnut. While design motifs have persisted relatively unchanged, new forms were created in response to consumer pref-

vast area stretching from the Atchafalaya

erences, including needle cases and tobacco

basin to the Mississippi River, including the present reservation lands in St. Mary Parish. The intricate design motifs in Chitimacha basketry reflect iconography associated with the Mississippian Tradition, ca. A.D. 1000–1500, and designs like Nexjuwa Qaki (alligator entrails) and Gusbi Suqu (muscadine rind) document the natural world of early weavers who first preserved these images in cane.12 Several distinctive elements characterize Chitimacha basketry, including the use of exceedingly tall cane with long joints having

12 Darden et al. 2006:29-41; Gregory and Webb 1975:3233; Lee 2006:46; Swanton 1911:347-348.

John Paul Darden at the Chitimacha Museum with his weavings including a lidded double-weave basket with Waxtik Kani (Cattle’s Eyes) design, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

pouches. Miniaturization of baskets became more common in the 1900s, as smaller baskets were deemed more marketable, while large, undecorated utilitarian vessels fell out of use altogether. Still, Chitimacha baskets demonstrate a remarkable consistency from one generation to the next, due in part to the careful curation of heirloom pattern baskets passed down within weaving families.13 Four Tribal weavers—John Paul Darden, Scarlett Darden, Melissa Darden (who serves as Chairperson of the Chitimacha Tribe), and Raymond Thomas—carry forward Chitimacha basketry traditions, preserving the legacy for future weavers. Each generation, it seems like somebody winds up feeling that need and picks up the baskets and feels that connection with it. And for me, it’s that connection that you have back to generations. Because when I go somewhere and I look at a basket, an old basket, I know that’s somebody from here, our people that made that basket. So you do feel that connection from the past generations and hopefully all the future weavers that come along will be that way, too. John Paul Darden, 2021 The Louisiana Choctaw Tribes Choctaw people crossed the Mississippi River to establish more than twenty settlements in Louisiana by the nineteenth century. The community that emerged as the

Mary Lewis exchanging basket with teacher Mattie Penick, circa 1930s. Courtesy of Rose Fisher Greer.

Catahoula Lake before 1800, growing with families who refused relocation to Oklahoma following the Indian Removal Act of 1831.14 The first documented Tribal weaver was Sally Allen, the sole Choctaw basket maker identified in the community in the 1880 U.S. census. Mary Lewis was the last Jena Choctaw woman to maintain the tradition of cane basketry before the present generation, and her descendant Rose Fisher Greer carries on the tradition today.

federally recognized Jena Band of Choctaw

It amazes me every time I go gather cane.

Indians in LaSalle Parish developed near

I walk through a cane patch, and I’m like

13 14

Darden et al. 2006:29-41; Duggan 2000:19–20; Kniffen et al. 1987:149-150. Kniffen et al. 1988:91-95; Lee 2009:71, 75-76, 2017:84-85.

who in the world ever thought or had the idea to cut one of these pieces of cane down and peel the bark off of it and then say, ”Well, I’m going to do this 50 times more, and then I’m going to sit down and make something out of that. I’m gonna make a basket out of that,” or “I’m gonna make a sleeping mat out of that.” The intelligence of these people, it astounds me sometimes. The houses they lived in, the foods they ate, the things they made are made out of natural materials, things that you could never buy in a store anywhere. And I love that about it. Rose Fisher Greer, 2022

Choctaw women from surrounding communities were ubiquitous in the markets of New Orleans where they sold their

Rose Fisher Greer, near Jena, LaSalle Parish, Louisiana, with her baskets, 2022. Photo by Dr. Dayna Bowker Lee.

baskets and harvested plants, such as sassafras leaves.15 Choctaw weavers made

(Louisa), Pisa Achuckama (Emma), Sally

a variety of baskets for food processing

Lewis, and Mathilde Fauvre. Many of the

and storage, including ufko (fanners or

historic Choctaw baskets featured in Core

winnowers), ishshoha (sifters), and ufko

Memory were made by members of this

taposhak (scoops), and created shapo

extended family. By the 1950s, Mathilde

(burden baskets) for carrying large loads,

Fauvre Johnson was the sole remaining

adding popular button baskets, sewing bas-

practitioner of Bayou Lacombe Choctaw

kets, and other forms to their traditional

basketry. While few weavers share

repertoire over time. While the Choctaw in

knowledge outside the bounds of culture,

central Mississippi used rivercane almost

Mathilde, who had no children, chose to

exclusively, those who migrated to the Gulf

teach a young non-Indigenous practitioner

Coast adopted local resources such as

named Tom Colvin, appointing him to safe-

palmetto to make their baskets.

guard her knowledge for Choctaw people.16 Tom has fulfilled his promise many times

Among the Bayou Lacombe weavers who

over, sharing the tradition with students

crossed Lake Pontchartrain by ferry to sell

including Jena Choctaw weaver Rose Fisher

baskets in New Orleans were Heleema 15 16

Bremer 1907:8-9; Colvin 2006:75-76; Daste 1939 [2]:4. Bushnell 1909; Colvin 2006.

Left: Mathilde Johnson splitting palmetto, circa 1960s. Courtesy of Thomas A. Colvin. Right: Tom Colvin splitting palmetto, circa 1960s. Courtesy of Thomas A. Colvin.

Greer and Tunica-Biloxi/Choctaw weaver Elisabeth Pierite.

The Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana Following the end of the Seven Years’ War

Lacombe Choctaw basketry reaches

in 1763, small groups of Alabama and

back into a time out of mind. That it has

Koasati (Coushatta)17 began to migrate west

survived into the twenty-first century is

after the French abandoned Fort Toulouse

due entirely to Mrs. Mathilde Johnson’s

(north of present-day Montgomery) and

preservation of skills and knowledge that

new English arrivals threatened their dis-

were taught to her by her mother, her

placement. The migrations took place over

grandmother. I enjoy helping to keep this

several years as individual leaders made the

craft alive. Mathilde Johnson wanted to

decision to abandon their central Alabama

pass it on, to keep it alive using traditional

and Georgia homelands. Coushatta people

methods of teaching the Choctaw way

formed settlements along the Calcasieu,

of basketry. I was fortunate to be able

Red, and Sabine Rivers in western Louisiana

to return that knowledge back to the

and east Texas before finally forming a

Choctaw people, the Choctaw tradition.

settlement near Elton (in Jefferson Davis

I would like for Mathilde to be here to

Parish) and Kinder (in Allen Parish).

see the tradition go on. It was what she wanted. Thomas A. Colvin, 2006

In the federally recognized Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana, the Koasati language is still

17 Koasati is the traditional name of the people and their language. Misunderstood and misinterpreted by colonists and settlers, over time the name “Coushatta” was accepted and adopted. Members of the contemporary Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana use the terms interchangeably to refer to themselves and their language.

Ellisor and Burissa Battise home, circa 1930s. Minnie Williams, far left on porch, holds a pine needle basket, signaling that the transition from predominately split cane to pine needle basketry had begun by this time; the earliest representation of this technique among Koasati weavers. Courtesy of the Mrs. King Rand Collection, Williamson Museum, Northwestern State University, Natchitoches, Louisiana.

spoken in most households, a matrilineal

baskets including whimsical effigy baskets

clan system is recognized, and basketry

representing local animals.18

traditions are maintained in many families. Coushatta weavers practice two basketry traditions: plaited river cane and coiled basketry of pine needles and grasses sewn with raffia. While split cane basketry may be older, coiled basketry is also deeply rooted in Koasati tradition. Well before land development and property restrictions limited access to cane patches, weavers made coiled baskets from grasses sewn with strips

Mama and my grandma, they didn’t have the effigy basket before, but later on we start getting interested. If it’s a Mallard, you have to use the little head green and so we studied that, and we make it just like the little Mallard duck, the skunk, the Louisiana animals, that’s what we use over here—alligators and turtles and all that. Myrna Abbey Wilson, 2021

from the inner bark of elm, dogwood, or

Basketry was a significant source of income

mulberry. When cane became harder to find

for Coushatta families, with weavers

in the 1920s and ’30s, Coushatta weavers

selling baskets to patrons in nearby towns

transitioned to coiled longleaf pine needles

or trading for supplies in general stores.

sewn with raffia to create a wide range of

While a few weavers still practice split cane

Farris 2012; Farris and Lee 2012; Gregory 2006; Langley and Bates 2021.

Left: Nora Abbey, weaving a split cane basket, 1981. Courtesy of Don Sepulvado. Right: Sisters Marjorie Abbey Battise (left) and Myrna Abbey Wilson (right) discussing their handwoven baskets in Elton, 2021. The large basket to Marjorie’s right was begun by their mother Nora and finished by Marjorie after Nora’s death. Photo by Dr. Dayna Bowker Lee.

basketry, most contemporary weavers,

Each basket that you make, there’s flaws

including sisters Marjorie Abbey Battise

in it. We know it, but people that look at

and Myrna Abbey Wilson, create their

it sometimes don’t catch it. Each basket

baskets from coiled pine needles or grasses

is unique. If you make one basket and you

sewn with raffia.

decide to make another one just like it, it’s

We color the raffia with a dye. Back in the ’30s, they would have crepe paper... but nowadays they use [synthetic] Rit to dye their raffia, to make colorful flowers, and use these to design the baskets. They also [use] sweet grass, it’s called sage

not going to be the same. There’s going to be a little difference. Sometimes it might be bigger, sometimes it might be taller. The lid might fit just perfect, the other lid that you made may not be perfect. That’s how I look at it. Marjorie Abbey Battise, 2021

grass, [and] Bahia grass. So we have pine

Every basket that we make, you’re making

needles, we have sage grass, and we have

a memory of it. Like a vase basket, you

Bahia grass, and then we do have river-

make it and then you enjoy making it,

cane baskets. Marjorie Abbey Battise, 2021

and that’s a symbol of you. Myrna Abbey

Coiled Koasati baskets come in a variety of sizes and types including lidded baskets, trays, bowls, vases, and effigies. No two baskets are alike, but every basket carries memories of the weaver and of the Koasati people.

Wilson, 2021

The Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana The Tunica were successful entrepreneurs whose vast trade networks brought them enormous wealth and influence. Tribal members strategically located their 19

settlements at major trade crossroads, a

who had their own using river cane and

practice they continued as they migrated

palmetto. By the 1950s, finding cane and

south into present-day Louisiana to

palmetto more difficult to access, Tunica-

settle near the confluence of the Red and

Biloxi weavers turned almost exclusively to

Mississippi Rivers. By 1706, the Tunica

coiled pine needle basketry.

inhabited a large village positioned to control a portage and access to lands in the northwest. Tunica also moved south to avoid frequent raiding by the English-allied Chickasaw and to be closer to the French with whom they had formed a commercial relationship.19 After the French established their first post at the Biloxi village in present Mississippi, Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville engaged Biloxi guides to assist in his exploration up the Mississippi River. Along the lower part of the river, Biloxi guides pointed out one of their semi-permanent campsites, likely in present Plaquemines Parish.20 By the late eighteenth century, their numbers greatly reduced, the Tunica consolidated on the Avoyelles Prairie near Marksville and began to take in Biloxi, Ofogoula, and Choctaw families who had migrated into Louisiana, as well as people of the Avoyel who were indigenous to the region. Based from this location on the Tunica’s traditional hunting grounds, they quietly took up farming, cattle grazing, and occasional wage work.21 Weavers like Betsey Joe and daughter Maria Johnson of Biloxi descent; Alice Picote of Ofogoula descent; and Rosa Jackson Pierite, Choctaw, brought their Tribal basketry traditions to the Tunica, 19 20 21

Brain 1988; Galloway 1987:23, 28-30. McWilliams 1981:53-55. Barbry 2017; Klopotek 2017:21.

As far as I know, one of the earliest examples of basketry from our Tribe would be from the Tunica Treasure, the collection that they call the Tunica Treasure. [I]t’s very small, a fragment of a cane mat, but you can see the way it was woven. And there’s still cane around here, Avoyelles Parish, not as much. I would say there’s a lot more palmetto still. There’s a couple of places that I go to get palmetto and

I’ve split with cane, I’ve split with pal-

to collect materials, and working with

metto. Elisabeth Pierite, 2021

these materials, learning how to weave,

While Elisabeth Pierite maintains the tradition of pine needle basketry passed down from Rosa Pierite, her great-grandmother, she is also working with Choctaw tradition keeper Tom Colvin to revitalize plaited cane and palmetto basketry for future generations.

I’m picking up where they may have left off. I’m catching up to where they left off. Elisabeth Pierite, 2021

The United Houma Nation Houma people began their southern migration prior to contact. They originally occupied the Yazoo River Basin but, by the

[W]ith cane and palmetto, there was a

late seventeenth century, had settled on the

break in carrying on traditions, and so

Mississippi River near its confluence with

I think about where weavers from our

the Red River. Subject to raids by English-

Tribe may have gone. They probably went

allied Tribes, the Houma gravitated toward

to the same places, the same patches

their French allies further south and, by the late eighteenth century, were living in three villages in the Lafourche district. Pressured by farmers and others who coveted their lands, they retreated into the remote bayous and marshes in both Lafourche and Terrebonne Parishes where they remain today as the state-recognized United Houma Nation.22 The Houma once had a cane basketry tradition but adapted to local flora when they settled in the coastal region. Anthropologist M. R. Harrington collected several Houma split cane baskets when he visited Terrebonne Parish in 1908. The baskets once used for winnowing and sifting were fragments or showed considerable wear, suggesting they may have been heirloom baskets, as most Houma people had begun participating in a trapping and fishing

Opposite: Rosa Jackson Pierite weaving a lidded pine needle basket, 1980. Courtesy of Don Sepulvado. Above: Elisabeth Pierite with her baskets outside at the Chief Joseph Pierite Sr. Powwow Grounds on the Tunica-Biloxi reservation, Marksville, 2021. Photo by Dr. Dayna Bowker Lee.

economy. Because the Houma lived in

22 Gravier 1700:145; Lee 2001:119-125; Weddle 1987:5759.

remote, self-sufficient family clusters, little is known regarding the transition from split cane to palmetto and cypress basketry.23 In the 1940s, Mrs. Gustave Jaud was photographed making palmetto baskets that she sold to supplement her family’s income, and by the 1970s, Marie Billiot Dean, began to demonstrate and sell a diverse array of baskets and other items made from palmetto that she split, dried, braided, and sewed into coils using ribbon or thread.24 Studying baskets from museum collections and a few rare photographs, Janie Luster reintroduced the Houma half-hitch method that, by the 1930s, had fallen out of practice. Born on Bayou Dularge in Terrebonne Parish, Luster was reared in a deeply traditional community and grew up making Houma crafts.25 Through years of intensive study and practice, Luster has become a master of Houma half-hitch basketry, a technique she has passed down to her three daughters and members of the Houma community. I think we’ve always been known for our palmetto baskets. Although, Mr. Cyril Billiot would weave cypress baskets, and our people also weaved cane baskets. Above left: Mrs. Gustave Jaud, descendant of the Houmas Indians, uses the native palmetto in weaving baskets, 1950. Louisiana Works Progress Administration Collection, State Library of Louisiana. Left: Marie Dean (1916–2010), circa 1980s. Courtesy of Louisiana Folklife Program, photo by Nick Spitzer.

23 In 1938, anthropologist, Frank Speck, collected two cypress splint baskets and a cylindrical palmetto container made using the half-hitch technique. 24 Louisiana Folklife Center, 2016. 25 Farris 2012; Farris and Lee 2012:418-419.

I credit [the Billiot] family for keeping

their knowledge to children and grandchil-

our palmetto weaving alive, because

dren. Facing centuries of environmental,

Miss Marie had her sister, Ms. Florence

cultural, and economic pressures and loss,

[Billiot], that weaved palmetto baskets.

weavers in Louisiana have tenaciously main-

Her brother, Mr. Antoine, also weaved the

tained—or sometimes relearned—basketry

palmetto. [W]e want to make sure that

traditions passed down through generations

we can keep that alive and not lose it, like

of weavers beginning with the first ancestor

with the half-hitch, by doing classes. It’s a

who crafted a basket from palmetto, grass,

unique pattern, and every time you weave,

pine needles, or cane. Every basket is inter-

it’s a half-hitch knot that you make. And

woven with strands of memory, and each

the most important thing is that we were

holds a promise for the future.

the only Tribe in the whole country to make this basket. Janie Verret Luster, 2021

Memory is everything. I started doing baskets, because of the memories of my grandparents that they shared with me, so from the very beginning, it’s all memory. And now my child, the memories of her growing up and watching me weave baskets, she don’t want it to be lost, either. I think she was hoping that at some point over the years somebody else would do it, but she’s almost forty years old. She’s come to the conclusion that, ”Well, nobody’s gonna do it, so I might as well.” [T]he interest is just the best part to me, that, ”Yes, mom, I’m ready now. I’m ready.” Rose Fisher Greer, 2022

Janie Verret Luster holding a baby basket she made using the Houma half-hitch technique, 2021. Photo by Dave Rodrigue.

Artists’ quotations have been edited for clarity.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Memory is Everything The six profiled contemporary weavers’ words and works resonate with deep and cherished memories of time spent learning from mothers, grandmothers, and Tribal elders; making first baskets; and passing

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Gettys, Marshall. 1984. “The Choctaw Basket Tradition.” In Basketry of Southeastern Indians. Marshall Gettys, ed., pp. 35-42. Idabel, OK: Museum of the Red River.

Celestine, Bryant. 2017. “The Alabama-Coushatta Tribe of Texas. In Tribes of the Trail: El Camino Real de Los Tejas National Historic Trail. Creole Heritage Center, Northwestern State University of Louisiana. National Trails Intermountain Region, National Park Service, PMIS 193082C.

Giraud, Marcel. 1953–1974. Histoire de la Louisiane Française, 5 vols. Paris: Presses Universitaires du France.

Choctaw Nation Historic Preservation Society. 2011. “Iti Fabussa: Choctaw Baskets.” In Biskinik, February 2011. Colvin, Thomas A. 2006. “Cane and Palmetto Basketry of the Choctaw of St. Tammany Parish.” In The Work of Tribal Hands: Southeastern Split Cane Basketry, Dayna Bowker Lee and H. F. Gregory, eds., pp. 73-95. Natchitoches: Northwestern State University Press. Darden, John Paul, Scarlett Darden, and Melissa Darden Brown. 2006. “In the Family Tradition: A Conversation with Three Chitimacha Basketmakers.” In The Work of Tribal Hands: Southeastern Split Cane Basketry, Dayna Bowker Lee and H. F. Gregory, eds., pp. 29-41. Natchitoches: Northwestern State University Press. Daste, Verdun. 1939. “Six Choctaws Remain of Proud Lacombe Tribes: War Whoops Stilled for Bayou Indians.” Times Picayune, 2 July 1939, Section 2, Page 4. Duggan, Betty J. 2000. “Revisiting Peabody Museum Collections and Chitimacha Basketry Revival.” Symbols (Spring):18-22. Ethridge, Robbie, and Sheri M. Shuck-Hall, eds. 2009. Mapping the Mississippian Shatter Zone: The Colonial Indian Slave Trade and Regional Instability in the American South. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press. Farris, Teresa Parker. 2012. “Coushatta Baskets.” 64 Parishes. https://64parishes.org/entry/coushatta-baskets. Farris, Teresa Parker, and Dayna Bowker Lee. 2012. “Louisiana Native American Basketry.” In A Unique Slant of Light: The Bicentennial History of Art in Louisiana. Michael Sartisky, J. Richard Gruber, and John R. Kemp, eds., pp. 412–19. Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi.

Gravier, Father Jacques. 1700 (1905). “Relation or Journal of the voyage of Father Gravier, of the Society of Jesus, in 1700, from the Country of the Illinois to the Mouth of the Mississippi River.” In The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents: Travels and Explorations of the Jesuit Missionaries in New France, 1610-1791. Reuben Gold Thwaites, ed. Vol. 65:100-79. Cleveland: Burrows Brothers Co. Gregory, H. F. 2006. “Asá:la Koasati Cane Basketry.” In The Work of Tribal Hands: Southeastern Split Cane Basketry, Dayna Bowker Lee and H. F. Gregory, eds., pp. 114-133. Natchitoches: Northwestern State University Press. Gregory Hiram F., and Clarence H. Webb. 1975. “Chitimacha Basketry.” Louisiana Archaeology 2:23-38. Halbert, Henry S. 1893. “Okla Hannali; or, The Six Towns District of the Choctaws.” American Antiquarian and Oriental Journal XV:146-149. Hatcher, Mattie Austin, trans. 1927. “Descriptions of the Tejas or Asinai Indians, 1691-1722.” The Southwestern Historical Quarterly 31(1):50-62. Higginbotham, Jay. 1977. Old Mobile: Ft. Louis de la Louisiane. Mobile, AL: Museum of the City of Mobile. Hill, Sarah H. 1997. Weaving New Worlds: Southeastern Cherokee Women and Their Basketry. Chapel Hill and London: University of North Carolina Press. Hunter, Donald G. 1994.”Their Final Years: The Apalachee and Other Immigrant Tribes on the Red River, 1763–1834.” Florida Anthropologist 47(1):3-46. Kinnaird, Lawrence. 1945–1949. Spain in the Mississippi Valley: 1765-1794, 4 vols. Annual Report of the American Historical Association for 1945. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office. Klopotek, Brian. 2017. “The Tunicas and Biloxis Navigate the

American Era.” In The Tunica-Biloxi Tribe: Its Culture and People, Brian Klopotek, John D. Barbry, Donna M. Pierite, and Elisabeth Pierite-Mora, eds., pp. 21-30. Marksville: Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. Kniffen, Fred B., Hiram F. Gregory, and George A. Stokes. 1987. The Historic Indian Tribes of Louisiana. Baton Rouge and London: Louisiana State University Press. Labarge, Lura. 1975. “Oldest of All Crafts Becoming a Fine Art.” New York Times, September 21, 1975. La Harpe, Jean Baptiste Bénard de. 1971. Historical Journal of Settlement of the French in Louisiana. Virginia Koenig and Joan Cain, trans. Lafayette: University of Southwestern Louisiana. Langley, Linda P., and Denise E. Bates. 2021. Louisiana Coushatta Basket Makers: Traditional Knowledge, Resourcefulness, and Artistry as a Means of Survival. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. Lee, Dayna Bowker. 2001. “The Historic Houma of Louisiana, 1699–1835.” In Southern Studies VIII (III-IV):119-156. _____. 2006. “The Ties that Bind: Cane Basketry Traditions among the Chitimacha and Jena Band of Choctaw.” In The Work of Tribal Hands: Southeastern Split Cane Basketry, Dayna Bowker Lee and H. F. Gregory, eds., pp. 43-71. Natchitoches: Northwestern State University Press. _____. 2009. Choctaw Communities along the Gulf Coast: Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama: Ethnographic Overview and Assessment, Mississippi Choctaw Communities Along the Gulf Coast. Submitted to the National Park Service and the Federal Emergency Management Agency, Mississippi Recovery Office, Earth Search, Inc., National Park Service Contract No. P5038090018. _____. 2012. “From Captives to Kin: Indian Slavery and Changing Social Identities on the Louisiana Colonial Frontier.” In Native Americans: Putting Adoption, Captivity and Slavery in Context. MaxCarocci and Stephanie Pratt, eds., pp. 79-96. Centre for Anthropology-British Museum, and the University of Plymouth, Palgrave Publishing Co. _____. 2017. Ethnographic Research with American Indian Tribes and Traditionally Associated People at the Eastern Terminus of El Camino Real de Los Tejas National Historic Trail. Earth Search, Inc., prepared for Cane River National Heritage Area, Natchitoches, LA. Le Page du Pratz, Antoine Simon. 1758. Histoire de la Louisiane contenant la découverte de ce vaste pays; sa description géographique; un voyage dans les terres; l’histoire naturelle; les moeurs, coûtumes & religion des naturels, avec leurs origines; deux voyages par M. Le Page du Pratz, 3 volumes. Debure: Paris. Louisiana Folklife Center. 2016. “Marie Billiot Dean: Palmetto Basket Maker.” Artist Biographies. https://louisianafolklife.nsula. edu/artist-biographies/profiles/70. Mason, Otis Tufton. (1904) 1988. American Indian Basketry. Mineola: Dover Press. May, Stephanie A. 2004. “Alabama and Koasati.” In Handbook

of North American Indians: Southeast, Raymond Fogelson, ed., pp.407-413. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office. McWilliams, Richebourg G., trans, ed. 1981. Iberville’s Gulf Journals. Tuscaloosa : University of Alabama Press. Medford, Claude. 1984. “Coushatta Baskets and Basketmakers.” In Basketry of Southeastern Indians. Marshall Gettys, ed., pp. 51-56. Idabel, OK: Museum of the Red River. Milne, George Edward. 2015. Natchez Country: Indians, Colonists, and the Landscapes of Race in French Louisiana. Athens and London: University of Georgia Press. National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI). n.d. Houma Baskets, Collections & Research, https://americanindian.si.edu/ explore/collections/search. Pierite, Donna M., Elisabeth Pierite-Mora, and Hiram F. “Pete” Gregory. 2017. “Continuity and Change in Tunica-Biloxi Material Culture. In The Tunica-Biloxi Tribe: Its Culture and People, Brian Klopotek, John D. Barbry, Donna M. Pierite, and Elisabeth PieriteMora, eds., pp. 49-56. Marksville: Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. Ramenofsky, Ann F. 1987. Vectors of Death: The Archaeology of European Contact. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. Swanton, John R. 1911. Indian Tribes of the Lower Mississippi Valley and Adjacent Coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 43. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office. _____. 1942. Source Material on the History and Ethnology of the Caddo Indians. Bureau of Ethnology Bulletin 132. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office. _____. 1952. The Indian Tribes of North America. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 145. Washington, DC: Government Printing Office. Turnbaugh, Sarah Peabody, and William A. Turnbaugh 1986. Indian Baskets. West Chester, PA: Schiffer Publishing, Ltd. Turnbaugh, William A., and Sarah Peabody Turnbaugh. 1999. Basket Tales of the Grandmothers. Peace Dale, RI: Thornbrook Publishing. Usner, Daniel H. 1998. American Indians in the Lower Mississippi Valley: Social and Economic Histories. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press. _____. 2014 (1992). Indians, Settlers, & Slaves in a Frontier Exchange Economy. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. _____. 2015. Weaving Alliances with Other Women: Chitimacha Indian Work in the New South. Athens and London: University of Georgia Press. Weddle, Robert S., ed. 1987. La Salle, the Mississippi, and the Gulf. College Station: Texas A & M University Press. Works Progress Administration (WPA). 1938. New Orleans City Guide. New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Co.

Chitimacha weaver John Paul Darden discusses his newest basket created for the exhibit, March 5, 2022. Photo by Ashley Lorraine.

Language More than a means of communication,

Canadian governments forced assimilation

language is an anchor to history, identity,

of Indigenous people through segregated

and cultural inheritance. Without adequate

schooling starting in the 1800s and extend-

historic records or recordings, languages

ing into the twentieth century. That was not

without living speakers can be lost forever.

the only method used to erase Indigenous

Because of their importance to connecting

languages, but it had profound effects. Many

and strengthening communities, languages

of the Indigenous Nations represented

of minority groups are often attacked. It is

here have had to undergo extensive efforts

well documented that the United States and

to preserve or revive their languages, with

varying degrees of success. Today, assim-

of basketry passed down through genera-

ilation efforts large and small continue to

tions within the featured Tribes have helped

threaten thousands of languages globally.

preserve the words of the plants used in

How can revitalization efforts of language be shaped holistically? Can the absence or endangerment of a language allow for other methods of preserving cultural knowledge, ideas, and identity to thrive? The traditions

basketry, as well as the animals and patterns represented, as just one example of linking tradition with oral history. They also present a concrete example of how preservation is an ongoing process, requiring the efforts and care of many. 27

Myrna Abbey Battise demonstrating how to weave a pine needle basket in the Coushatta tradition, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

LIVING NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURE LANGUAGE AND CULTURAL PRACTICE By Judith M. Maxwell (Kuwakɛra), Ph.D. Situated on ancestral Chitimacha lands,

With European colonization, the linguistic

Bulbancha (‘place of many tongues’) was

landscape changed rapidly. Indigenous

an active site of commerce, trade and

peoples were displaced. Some, like the

cultural exchange long before the arrival

Koroa, Grigra, Tiou, and Yazoo, were

of Europeans in what would become

decimated, their surviving members joining

known as Louisiana. Speakers of Siouan

other groups. The Indian Removal Act of

(Ofo and Biloxi), Iroquoian (Cherokee),

1830 pushed many west of the Mississippi

Muskogean (Koasati, Choctaw, Apalachee,

River; Alabamu speakers moved through

Houma, Bayagoula, Pascagoula, Opelousa,

Louisiana to Texas and Oklahoma. Lipan

Quinipissa), Natchesan (Natchez, Taensa,

Apache and other Athapaskan groups from

Colapissa), and Caddoan languages

the West were brought into Louisiana to

(Caddo, Natchitoches, Yatasi) came

work in the cane and rice fields. From con-

together with people from other groups,

tact until well after the Louisiana Purchase

whose names are known from colonial

in 1803, French was the dominant

documents, but whose languages are un-

European language in the region, though

or under-recorded: Washa and Chawasha

Spanish was the administrative language

(possibly relatives of Chitimacha), Ouachita

for almost 40 years.4 Many Indigenous

and Doustioni (possibly Caddoan), Grigra,

peoples adopted French as a language of

Koroa, Tiou, Yazoo and Okelousa (possi-

trade, though Mobilian Jargon survived

bly Muskogean), as well as others whose

until the 1980s.5 For some, like the Houma,

languages by the time of documentation

Chitimacha, Tunica, Biloxi, Ofo, and many

were isolates (having no known living

of the Choctaw, French became the lan-

related tongues): Tunica, Avoyel, Yuchi,

guage of daily communication.6

Chitimacha, Atakapa Ishak, and Adai.2 These diverse people often communicated through Mobilian Jargon, a largely Muskogean-lexified trade language.3

Currently, the federal government recognizes only four of the Native American groups of Louisiana: the Chitimacha Tribe of Louisiana, the Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana,

1 See Verdin, 2021; Byington, 1915. Bulbancha is the Choctaw name for the area now known as New Orleans. Mobilian Jargon, the indigenous trade language used in the Gulf South, employed the cognate term Balbancha. 2 Goddard, 2005. 3 Drechsel, 1996. 4 Chamberlain and Lo Faber, 2014, 2020. 5 Drechsel, 1996. 6 Brasseaux, 2005.

Anna Mae Juneau (Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana). Coiled and sewn round basket, c. 1970–1981. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, rafﬁa. Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982.

the Jena Band of Choctaw Indians, and

the Natchitoches Tribe of Louisiana, the

the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. The

Pointe-au-Chien Tribe, and the United

last is an amalgam of four groups, the

Houma Nation.7 Tribal communities with

eponymous Tunica and Biloxi as well as

neither state nor federal recognition are

the Ofo and Avoyel. The State of Louisiana

the Chata’Ogla Tribe of Bayou Lacombe,

recognizes an additional eleven groups:

Atakapa Ishak Nation, and Talimali Band of

the Adai Caddo, the Bayou Lafourche Band

Apalachee Indians and the Avoyel-Taensa

of Biloxi-Chitimacha Confederation of

Tribe of Louisiana.

Muskogees (BCCM), the Choctaw-Apache Tribe of Ebarb, the Clifton Choctaw Tribe of Louisiana, the Four Winds Cherokee Tribe, the Grand Caillou/Dulac Band of the BCCM, the Isle de Jean Charles Band of the BCCM, the Louisiana Band of Choctaw, 7

Louisiana State University Library, 2021.

As the pressure of European and American settlers drove Indigenous people to relocate, to shift their livelihoods, and to adapt their linguistic practices, many languages fell into disuse. Among the dominant

Marion John (Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana). Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, late 20th century. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyimaɫí; rafﬁa, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson.

Muskogean languages, only Choctaw and

exacerbated by dredging and drilling for oil

Koasati survived into the twenty-first

in the Gulf of Mexico; Indigenous people

century. The Houma and Pointe-au-

found their homelands, their languages,

Chien9 communities had nearly uniformly

and their cultures literally and figuratively

switched to French for daily communica-

eroding. Nine of the Indigenous languages

tion by the mid-1800s. As English became

of Louisiana—Caddo, Cherokee, Chickasaw,

more established, French began to give

Choctaw, Koasati, Lipan Apache, Natchez,

way to English throughout the state.10

Tunica, and Yuchi—are on UNESCO’s list of

Through a combination of climate change;

critically endangered languages.12 However,

coastal depletion; and pollution of tradi-

all of these languages have active language

tional waterways, lands, and marshes;

revitalization programs.

8 Crepelle, 2018. 9 Dajko, 2020. 10 Brasseaux, 2005. 11 Maldonado et al, 2013. 12 UNESCO, 2010.

Wesley Leonard, Miami linguist and

of different colors

language activist, argues cogently that

kishi, a basket or hamper

“revitalization” projects focused solely on

tapushik, a flat basket

speaking seldom succeed. Language is

tvlbvl, a double woven basket of cane bark

an encoder and emblem of culture, and

tvpak, basket

is inextricably linked to cultural practice.

typishuk, a smaller basket like the tvpak

Thus, Leonard (op. cit) insists that “recla-

ufko, a winnowing basket

mation” is the key to rebuilding Indigenous

pachvlh, a mat of woven cane bark, a

identities, languages, and the cultures

cane mat

they express. Reclaiming and celebrat-

afohommi, to rim a basket

ing Indigenous artistry and creativity is

ashinli, to fill in the chinks or holes in a

central to tribal programs throughout the state. We know from early word lists that basketry was a prized skill.14 Trade of baskets brought in more than money and trade items; as a prized cultural expression,

basket using another material Haas’ 1953 Tunica Dictionary (based on fieldwork in the early 1930s) also lists many types of baskets:

Coushatta basketry empowered the Tribe

lɔhkakɔra, a work basket, sewing basket

in their socio-political negotiations.

lɔhkara, a big, hard basket

Byington’s 1915 A Dictionary of the Choctaw Language has a wealth of vocabulary on baskets and basket-making, for example: atanwffochi, to weave a basket with strands

lɔhkatawohku, a basket lid lɔhkatohku, small basket lɔhkat’ɛ, big basket, clothes hamper, cotton-picking basket lɔhkawuli, heart-shaped basket lɔhka’ɛsa, flat sewing basket lɔhka’ɔsa, basket with a handle lɔhpashi, a winnowing basket While other Indigenous crafts and art forms, such as tattooing, pirogue construction, ceramics, tanning, and hide clothing production have often languished or adopted more European instruments and forms, basketry continues as a Native cultural expression with widespread recognition and acclaim outside Indigenous communities.

Elizabeth Marie Thompson (Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana). Coiled and sewn tray with four rounds, 2000. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection.

13 14 15

Leonard, 2012. Dorsey and Swanton,1912; Gatschet and Swanton, 1932 Ellis, 2015; Bates, 2020.

Anna Mae Juneau (Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana). Coiled and sewn fruit basket, c. 1970–1981. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, rafﬁa. Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982.

Since 2015, the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe

needle basketry.18 Adapting to changes in

of Louisiana has hosted an Intertribal

the environment and materials, the Houma,

Basketry Summit at which artisans from

Choctaw, Atakapa Ishak, and the Pointe-au-

across the state display their baskets and

Chien are also striving to perpetuate tribal

share their knowledge and skills through

knowledge of basketry artforms.19 Among

demonstrations, workshops, and personal

the Chitimacha, the Dardens, a family of

histories. The Tunica-Biloxi regularly run

master basket makers, are apprenticing

weekend workshops for tribal and commu-

young tribal members.20 Since 2002, the

nity members, teaching traditional crafts,

Chitimacha, in conjunction with the National

such as quilting, making palmetto shelters,

Resource Conservation Service and the U.S.

weaving palmetto fans and mats, caning,

Department of Agriculture, have planted

and basketry. They also lead online work-

river cane on tribal land to insure availability

shops on making pine needle baskets and

of this resource for future weavers.21

other vernacular expressions.17 The Koasati likewise have run workshops for tribal youth and adults teaching the art of pine 16 17 18 19 20 21

The Indigenous weaving artists of Louisiana create not only objects of beauty and utility, but also expressions

Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana, 2020. For example, in November 2020, the Tribe hosted a virtual class for the Proctor and Gamble Native American Network. Koasati, 2014. John and Langley, 2021. Louisiana Folklife Center, 2015, 2016. Alexander, 2002.

of cultural identity and pride. Each set of hands that coils a pine needle basket or splits and scrapes cane to make baskets, mats, and fans is reclaiming and rebuilding the artform and their culture. The young voices that are raised singing Sehi Hara, the Tunica daybreak song, are taking back their language. Across Louisiana, the Indigenous people not driven to extinction or absorbed into other groups, demonstrate that they are still here. They are reclaiming their languages, their cultural expressions, and their futures.

Chamberlain, Charles and Lo Faber. 2014, updated 2020. “Spanish Colonial Louisiana,” 64 Parishes. Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities. https://64parishes.org/entry/spanish-coloniallouisiana Crepelle, Adam. 2018. “Standing rock in the swamp: Oil, the environment, and the United Houma Nation’s struggle for federal recognition,” Loyola Law Review 64: 141. Dajko, Nathalie and Shana Walton, eds. 2019. Language in Louisiana: Community and Culture. Jackson: University of Mississippi Press. Dajko, Nathalie. 2020. French on shifting ground: Cultural and coastal erosion in South Louisiana. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi. Dillard, Joey Lee. 1985. “Languages and Linguistic Research in Louisiana,” Folklife in Louisiana: a Guide to the State. Baton Rouge: Louisiana Office of Cultural Development. https://www.louisianafolklife.org/lt/virtual_books/guide_to_state/dillard.html Dorsey, James Owen and John Reed Swanton. 1912. A Dictionary of the Biloxi and Ofo Languages: Accompanied with Thirty-one Biloxi Texts and Numerous Biloxi Phrases, Vol. 47. Washington, D.C.: Bureau of American Ethnology, US Government Printing Office.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Alexander, Andrea. 2002. “Tribe Works to Keep Ancient Tradition Alive.” Canku Ota (Many Paths): an Online Newsletter Celebrating Native America, Issue 56. http://www.turtletrack. org/IssueHistory/Issues02/Co03092002/CO_03092002_ Chitimacha_Baskets.htm. Bates, Denise E. 2020. Basket Diplomacy: Leadership, AllianceBuilding, and Resilience among the Coushatta Tribe of Louisiana, 1884–1984. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. Brasseaux, Carl A. 2005. French, Cajun, Creole, Houma: A Primer on Francophone Louisiana. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. Byington, Cyrus. (1915), 2015. A Dictionary of the Choctaw Language (Vol. 46). Native American Books; reprinted, London: Forgotten Books.

Drechsel, Emanuel J. 1996. “An integrated vocabulary of Mobilian Jargon, a Native American pidgin of the Mississippi Valley.” Anthropological Linguistics: 248-354. Dunbar-Ortiz, Roanne. 2014. An indigenous peoples’ history of the United States. Vol. 3. Boston: Beacon Press. Ellis, Elizabeth. 2015. “The many ties of the Petites Nations: Relationships, Power, and diplomacy in the lower Mississippi Valley, 1685-1785.” PhD dissertation, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Gatschet, Albert S. and John Reed Swanton. 1932. A dictionary of the Atakapa language, accompanied by text material. Washington, D.C.: Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin. Goddard, Ives. 2005. “The indigenous languages of the Southeast,” Anthropological Linguistics: 1-60.

Handwoven Coushatta baskets. Pictured left to right: Darlene Langley Robinson. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, 2004. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Jeanette Langley. Coiled and sewn trinket basket with lid, 1970. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Doris Robinson Celestine Battise. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, late 20th century. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Elsie John. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, c. 1970–1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Marion John. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, late 20th century. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyimaɫí; raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Doris Robinson Celestine Battise. Coiled and sewn trinket basket with lid, late 20th century. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Darlene Langley Robinson. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, 2000. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson.

Haas, Mary R. 1953. Tunica dictionary, Vol. 2. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. John, M. W. and Linda Langley. 2021. “Asaala Schoolpak Komawiichito Selling the Baskets Helped Us.” In Louisiana Coushatta Basket Makers: Traditional Knowledge, Resourcefulness, and Artistry as a Means of Survival. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press: 72. Koasati. 2014. “Basket Making Workshop.” https://www. koasatiheritage.org/blog/2014/jul/23/basket-makingworkshop Langley, Linda and Denise E. Bates. 2021. Louisiana Coushatta Basket Makers: Traditional Knowledge, Resourcefulness, and Artistry as a Means of Survival. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. Leonard, Wesley Y. 2012. “Framing language reclamation programmes for everybody’s empowerment.” Gender & Language, 6 (2). Lipan Apache Tribe, 2015, “News on Language Preservation Classes.” http://www.lipanapache.org/Lang/LanguageNews.html Louisiana Folklife Center. 2015, 2016. “Melissa M. Darden, Chitimacha River Cane Basket Maker.” https://louisianafolklife. nsula.edu/artist-biographies/profiles/68

https://guides.lib.lsu.edu/c.php?g=1095533&p=7990153 Maldonado, Julie K., Christine Shearer, Robin Bronen, Kristina Peterson, and Heather Lazrus. 2013. “The impact of climate change on tribal communities in the US: displacement, relocation, and human rights.” In Maldonado J.K., Colombi B., Pandya R. (eds) Climate Change and Indigenous Peoples in the United States. Springer, Cham: 93-106. Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana. 2020. “Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana Hosts 5th Annual Intertribal Basketry Summit Virtually to Celebrate Native Traditions Amid COVID–19 Pandemic.” https://www.tunicabiloxi.org/tunica-biloxi-tribe-of-louisiana-hosts-5th-annual-intertribal-basketry-summit-virtually-to-celebrate-native-traditions-amid-covid–19-pandemic/ UNESCO. 2010. Atlas of the World’s Languages in Danger. http:// www.unesco.org/languages-atlas/index.php United Houma Nation. 2019. “Basket Weaving 2-Part Class.” https://unitedhoumanation.org/event/basket-weaving-2-partclass Verdin, Monique. 2021. “Houma Nation: Place of Many Tongues.” Prabuddha: Journal of Social Equality, 5(1): 11-22. YUdjɛha gO’wAdAnA-A k’ak’ûnɛchɛ: Yuchi Language Project. Accessed Dec. 27, 2021. https://www.yuchilanguage.org/

Louisiana State University Library. “State and Federally Recognized Tribes of Louisiana.” Accessed Dec. 27, 2021.

Material Changes Baskets, like other vernacular expressions,

traditions. As the cane thickets harvested

privilege the retention of distinctive

by their ancestors were lost to development

forms and designs, passed from one gen-

in the mid-twentieth century, Koasati and

eration to the next. Yet external forces can

Tunica-Biloxi weavers turned to more

compel change, resulting in adaptation and

readily available pine needles and raffia.

innovation within otherwise conservative

Houma artists—whose own use of cane had

Works in the Houma tradition. See page 74 for details.

ended by the late 1800s—embraced the

the devastation wrought by larger, more

coastal region’s abundant cypress and pal-

frequent hurricanes, now threaten the

metto, but with the rampant privatization

marsh-loving plant’s accessibility, especially

of forested areas in southeast Louisiana,

for Tribal members forced to move inland.

found the former more difficult to obtain. The state’s rapidly eroding coastline and 37

ARTIST INTERVIEWS Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry is co-curated by anthropologist Dayna Bowker Lee, Ph.D., and folklorist Teresa Parker Farris. In late 2021 and early 2022, Lee and Farris interviewed the six profiled contemporary weavers featured in the exhibit about their practices as artists and tradition-keepers. In the Chitimacha tradition, an uninterrupted line connects nineteenth-century weaver Clara Darden and modern-day practitioner John Paul Darden. Similarly, Coushatta artists, Marjorie Battise and Myrna Wilson look to the influence of their grandfather, Ency Abbey Abbott—a creative legacy shared with their cousin and fellow weaver, Ronald Langley. Janie Luster gives credit to Houma elder (and distant ancestor) Marie Dean, yet utilized books and photographs to recover a technique lost to the United Houma Nation in the early twentieth century. The Bayou Lacombe Choctaw tradition continues today through equally unconventional circumstances: a partnership between Native American artist Mathilde Johnson and Tom Colvin which obligated the young non-Indigenous practitioner to teach tribal members the artform in her absence. Since Johnson’s death in 1975, Colvin has worked with Jena Choctaw weaver, Rose Fisher Greer, as well as Tunica-Biloxi/Choctaw weaver, Elisabeth Pierite, the latter of whom also maintains the tradition of Choctaw pine needle basketry inherited from her great-grandmother, Rosa Pierite. Today, all of these Indigenous communities ensure the uninterrupted transmission of traditional knowledge through hands-on workshops and the preservation of heirloom baskets for future generations.

The interviews that follow have been edited for clarity. Audio excepts of the original recordings can be accessed on the museum’s website.

Opposite, top: Installation view of Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry. Bottom: Tunica-Biloxi / Choctaw weaver Elisabeth Pierite discusses her work in the exhibit, March 5, 2022. Photo by Ashley Lorraine.

Top: Janie Verret Luster holding a baby basket she made using the Houma half-hitch technique, 2021. Photo by Dave Rodrigue. Bottom: Janie Verret Luster. Basket, 2022. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor) with synthetic red dyes. Collection of the artist.

JANIE VERRET LUSTER UNITED HOUMA NATION b. 1952, Bayou DuLarge, Terrebonne Parish A master palmetto basket weaver, Janie Verret Luster is responsible for recovering the Houma halfhitch, a technique lost to the Tribe for a generation. She is a practitioner of diverse tribal customs including the healing arts, Indigenous foodways, garfish scale jewelry, and Spanish moss dolls. Luster is also fluent in the centuries-old Houma-French language. She has exhibited her work at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, Louisiana Folk Festival, and Natchitoches-NSU Folk Festival and was inducted into the Louisiana Hall of Master Folk Artists in 2011. I’m Janie Verret Luster. I was born July the

for many years as the chairperson of the

11th, 1952, at Charity Hospital in New

parent committee, going from one Indian

Orleans. And I was raised in the community

community to the other throughout the

of Bayou DuLarge. Both my parents were

country. A lot of times they had vendors

Houma Indians, and they lived a traditional

that were selling books about baskets. And

life. Mama had to cross that bayou a lot of

I would always pick up the books to see if

times when we started school, we went to

they had a Houma basket in it. And to see

the Indian school first, and she would cross

the shape of some of the baskets that I’ve

the bayou. She must’ve crossed that bayou

done, to see some of those shapes of bas-

at least a dozen times through the day.

kets in a museum is amazing.

When I look back, as to when I started weav-

But it’s a unique pattern; it’s a half-hitch

ing, the basket would lead me as to what it

knot that you weave. And every time you

was going to be, what size—if it was going

weave, it’s a half-hitch knot that you make.

to be a small one, a medium or large one—I

And the most important thing is that we

actually felt that. I can remember talking to

were the only Tribe in the whole country

other weavers, and I felt a little bit hesi-

to make this basket. So we couldn’t go to

tant to ask the question, maybe a little bit

another Tribe. There was no one else that

embarrassed to say, “Does the basket lead

we could go to, to learn this. And so that

you?” And when I saw the reaction in their

was kind of unique, and to be able to bring

faces—yes it did.

it back, and learn and being able to weave

When we were looking for the baskets, we couldn’t find the baskets in the communities but they ended up being in museums. And in the travels, I travelled with Indian education

it today, it’s very unique. It’s almost like the Chitimacha baskets, it’s unique to that Tribe. And similar to the Houma people with the half-hitch now, and they did have color.

Marie Dean did the different strands, she

used that to sew the palmetto together to

did like the four strand, the seven strand,

form her hat or her basket. Whereas with a

five strand. It’s usually the odd numbers

Houma half-hitch, you’re making that half-

that she would do, and the jigsaw weave, the

hitch knot, and the basket’s being formed as

over-under weave. And most of the time, like

you’re weaving, you don’t have to go back

the jigsaw weave, the seven, the nine, you

and sew anything.

would have to go back and sew it together with needle and thread. All of it was used— those little edges were turned into little palmetto dolls with moss hair, the little edges became the body of the palmetto dolls, and they would make Christmas ornaments out of them and everything. Very seldom that they had to throw anything away. And Miss Marie tended to use a lot of ribbon that was recycled, even back in those days, she was recycling, maybe ribbon from a birthday present or a Christmas present. And so, she

Now, I harvest the palmetto myself. I’d rather do that in the wintertime, if I have the need to have palmetto, but a lot of times we prepare in the fall to harvest the palmetto. It’s almost like quilting—something to do when it’s cold outside. We harvest palmetto also sometimes by the moon. The moon makes a big difference as to what the palmetto feels like: Full Moon—it’s really thick feeling, it’s a heavy palmetto. Whereas in the New Moon, it’s lighter, doesn’t feel as thick.

Janie Verret Luster. Coiled half-hitch or Fuegian stitch basket bottom (in process), 2015. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of a private collection.

Handwoven Houma baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Janie Verret Luster. Basket, 2022. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor) with synthetic red dyes. Collection of the artist. Janie Verret Luster. Turtle basket, 2013. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Collection of the artist. Marie Dean. Braided and sewn trinket basket with lid, 2004. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor), thread. Courtesy of a private collection. Janie Verret Luster. Coiled half-hitch or Fuegian stitch basket bottom (in process), 2015. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of a private collection. Marie Dean. Braided and sewn hourglass-shaped basket, c. 1960–1981. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor), thread. Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982.

Janie Verret Luster. Baby basket, 2021. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Collection of the artist.

The New Moon is when you would probably

those conversations—I really take it to heart

harvest palmetto for a hat. I like to harvest

and think about those conversations and try

in the Full Moon for my baskets because it

to analyze when to harvest palmetto and

makes such a solid basket.

where to harvest, also.

I had tried before Hurricane Ida hit us, we

Where to harvest palmetto is getting

had harvested some palmetto and had

hard now, especially after the hurricane. It

also marked the stem of the palmetto as to

damaged the palmetto really, really bad. I’ve

what date and what the moon was doing.

seen a few plants survive, if it was shel-

Because, since I’ve been weaving—and I can

tered in a really thick forest setting. Those

remember Miss Marie Dean and I discuss-

palmetto survived, but those out in the

ing about the palmetto sometimes curls on

open—the leaves themselves droop. I was

you, and she would say that has to do with

telling someone, “I think it’s going to be a

the moon. At the time, those conversations

couple years before they come back.” I have

I took in, but now I have the full meaning of

palmetto right now, but I know I’m going to

Janie Verret Luster demonstrating how to weave a palmetto basket in the Houma tradition, 2021. Photo by Dave Rodrigue.

need more. It’s just going to be hard to find

what we experienced before. Most of the

the location, where to harvest the palmetto.

hurricanes that have hit us in the past was

So it’s important that we teach. I tell my daughter Anne that it’s important that we teach: Where does palmetto grow? Will it grow in the area that you move to if you move? Or will you come back home to harvest the palmetto? And so, we have to educate them for when they move. And, even with this hurricane, we know many of our people will not come back, because

the waters, and this was totally different. It was the wind that destroyed the homes of many, many people down here. But the older generation like myself, I have no intentions of leaving, and I feel that it’s important that I do stay, to make sure that our culture is preserved and especially the basket weaving of our culture, because it kind of identifies us as a people.

there’s nothing to come back to. The younger generation will want to move away, because this hurricane was so different than 45

ROSE FISHER GREER JENA BAND OF CHOCTAW INDIANS b. 1962, Jena, LaSalle Parish Rose Fisher Greer learned the history of split cane Choctaw basketry from her grandfather Anderson Lewis and baskets made by his aunt Mary Lewis. She honed her skills through an apprenticeship with weaver Tom Colvin and the study of Choctaw artifacts in museums. Working to preserve traditional Tribal culture, she has collaborated with the U.S. Forest Service and Louisiana Regional Folklife Program to document and teach cane basketry. She has presented her work at the Masur Museum in Monroe, Natchitoches-NSU Folk Festival and Basketry Gathering, and the Tunica-Biloxi Intertribal Basketry Summit. I am Rose Fisher Greer. I was born right

woods, and I watched my grandfather hunt

here in LaSalle Parish. I’ve spent most of

with blowguns. He was a storyteller; he

my life here. I’m a member of the Jena

was a healer. He had a lot of talents. For

Band of Choctaws. I am now a Tribal elder

somebody that wasn’t educated, he was

and a cultural consultant for my Tribe,

very intelligent. My family, the Fisher fam-

and I weave baskets. This is a tradition for

ily lived with our grandparents most of our

my Tribe, and it was lost. The last basket

life, off and on—them helping my mother,

weaver died in the 1930s, and there was no

her being a single mother and everything—

basket weavers here until I started weaving

so that’s what we learned. My grandpar-

back in the ’70s. I was about 15 years

ents made learning fun and they taught

old. I got the opportunity to meet with a basket weaver, Mr. Tom Colvin. He came up and gave some classes at my Tribe. I just identified with it. It was something that was natural, like breathing, to me. I really enjoy it. And every time I weave a basket, whatever process of the basket—whether it’s gathering the cane, splitting the cane, weaving the cane into a basket—it always means something to me. It brings me back to those that aren’t here anymore. I am named after my grandmother and I guess I was her favorite grandchild. My grandmother taught me about wild fruits and edibles that you can find out in the

Opposite: Rose Fisher Greer, near Jena, LaSalle Parish, Louisiana, with her baskets, 2022. Photo by Dr. Dayna Bowker Lee. Above: Rose Fisher Greer. Plaited Ufko (fanner basket), 2021. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the artist.

us how to tan deer hides, talked about the basket weavers. My grandma actually had a couple of little baskets that went to other family members. But that’s how I learned the stories about his aunts and the baskets and what they did. The last basket weaver was my grandfather’s aunt, and in those days when she was alive, women weren’t allowed to work outside the house. The only way she could help her family was by trading her baskets for goods that they needed, whether it was seeds for the garden or cloth to make clothes, flour, sugar, things to help feed her family. She always wove two of every kind of basket, she would give one to whoever Top: Works in the Choctaw tradition, left to right, by Unknown Artists, Mathilde Johnson, Tom Colvin, Dorothy Thompson, Claude Medford, Jr., Rose Fisher Greer and Elsie Battiest. See pages 74–75 for details. Bottom: Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited Taposhake chufa (pointed-bottom basket) with handle, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, donated before 1966.

she was trading with and the other one she filled up with whatever goods that she was trying to attain. That inspired me to do something like that.

Tom Colvin. Bullnose basket with loop for hanging, 2003. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection.

My grandfather used to go with his aunts to

ing to me that they did all that hard work to

Bushley, which is in Catahoula Parish. From

help their family in the best way they could.

Eden where they lived to where the cane patch was, it took half a day to get there walking. The cane patch was so big, my grandfather said you could walk three days and never walk through to the end of it. It was just huge. They would go and cut and split and peel cane for two or three days. His job was to provide food. He would go fishing or kill squirrels or rabbits or whatever. And course, he was the male figure, their protector in case something came up. They would walk half a day and then spend three days in the summertime, camping and peeling their cane. In the winter times when they were back here, it was cold, they couldn’t garden or do things outside, they sat and wove baskets. That was just inspir-

Tom Colvin, when he came up here the first time back in the ’70s, was looking for somebody that he could go full circle with. That’s another interesting thing about our relationship and how I learned from him, wanting to be a basket weaver. Because the people that taught him were Choctaw people and they were Lewis people, the same family name that I come from, Lewis. So it comes full circle. He was taught, and he taught me the traditional way, too. He didn’t try to fix my mistakes. He would point them out to me after I made them. And that’s how he was taught. The first part of making a basket is going out and gathering the cane. It’s a little 49

Rose Fisher Greer. Plaited storage basket or large sewing basket, 1995. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the artist.

tricky thing to do, in that you can’t just go

then you wash it, and I don’t use chemicals;

and cut everything you see. I tap on my

I use sand and a stiff rag. The elders would

cane with a pocketknife and listen to it.

go to the creek bank; usually the cane

It talks to you. That’s a technique that’s

grows on creek banks. You just use sand

learned, but it tells you whether it’s ripe

as an abrasive and a stiff rag and wipe the

enough, ready enough. It’s got a hollow

dirt off of it. Then you split and peel it. That

sound to it and that means it’s good to use.

takes pretty much all day, even for one tiny

If it’s like a thick sound when you tap it,

basket, gathering it, splitting it, and peeling

it’s still juicy inside, it’s got moisture inside

it. Sitting down and weaving is the easy

and you really want the ones that have the

part of it.

dryness on the inside because it splits and peels better.

I’ve been weaving baskets now for a little over forty years, and in all those years

You cut your cane, then you have to wash

I’ve had probably three or four different

it because it takes this cane approximately

classes where we had Jena Choctaw

five to seven years of growing for it to be

participants. After the classes and the

ready to use, so, of course, it’s dirty. So,

sessions were over with, nobody wanted to

Above: Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited Taposhake shakapa (elbow storage basket), c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University.

keep doing it. They all like the baskets. They

children, and even pass it on to other Tribal

think they’re pretty and they always want

members. My nieces and my brothers

me to make them one, but nobody’s ever

have maintained the language. We lost our

been interested until this past year. My

language. We felt like we were down to like,

own daughter decided that she wanted to

we’ve got maybe two people that are elders

try, so I’m really thrilled about that. Maybe

that speak the language now, no young

I do get to pass it on, and maybe it won’t be

people at all. I, myself, only know a few

lost again. She lives in California, unfortu-

words. My brother now speaks it fluently.

nately, but she grew up around me weaving

He’s taught three of his children to speak

baskets all her life. When she was little she

it fluently. I’m sure that they’re gonna pass

used to play with my scraps, trying to put

it on to their children one day, so I don’t

them together and everything, but it just

think the language will ever leave us again,

wasn’t really something she was into.

because it was so hard to attain and bring

My brothers and I have tried to carry on everything that was taught to us by our grandparents, and pass it on to our

it back. And I’m hoping when my daughter wants to learn basket weaving that at least it’ll last another generation.

Above and opposite: Weaver Elisabeth Pierite and baskets at the Chief Joseph Alcide Pierite, Sr. Pow Wow Grounds on the TunicaBiloxi reservation, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

ELISABETH PIERITE TUNICA-BILOXI / CHOCTAW b. 1989, Marksville, Avoyelles Parish Evident in her pine needle, cane, and palmetto weaving traditions, Elisabeth Pierite grew up in a household of Tunica, Biloxi, and Choctaw heritage. She is a longtime instructor for the TunicaBiloxi Language and Culture Revitalization Program and has collaborated with Tulane University linguists in the Kuhpani Yoyani Luhchi Yoroniku (Tunica Language Working Group). As a member of the Tunica-Biloxi Singers and Legend Keepers, she continues traditional tribal singing and storytelling, a cultural practice earning her recognition in 2011 as a Master Folk Artist by the Louisiana Folklife Center. My name is Elisabeth Pierite. I’m Tunica-

are Michael and Donna Pierite. I grew up

Biloxi, I’m Choctaw, and I’m 32 years old. I’m

in New Orleans; so did my parents, but we

a member of the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe here

moved to Marksville around 2005. We’ve

in Marksville. Today we’re here at the pow-

been here since. My great-grandfather was

wow grounds named after my great-grand-

the last traditional chief of the Tribe. He

father, Chief Joseph Alcide Pierite, Sr. And

was chief during the ’60s, and then around

there’s also a pavilion towards the front of

the mid-’70s is when my grandfather be-

the powwow grounds that’s named after

came Tribal Chairman.

my grandfather, Joe Pierite, Jr. My parents

Baskets were present at my family’s home,

woods.” She can’t get it, being older. It’s still

my grandmother’s home, my great aunts’

kind of that way. But I’ve gone out with our

homes, and also my Great Aunt Rose. She

language apprentices and we’ve gone and

worked here in Marksville on the reser-

got cane of different types around here.

vation at the old museum. She was sort of

Nowadays, there’s cane that’s sort of like

like the person to welcome visitors at the

a hybrid. You kind of got to watch what

museum. Her sisters, Anna Mae Juneau

you’re getting.

and Norma Khawaja, would teach basketryclasses at the museum. I remember sitting in one of the community rooms and they’d have pine needles out and raffia and they’d be weaving. They taught my mom, and I would just watch; but as I got older, my mom sat down with me and she showed me how to start a basket. Even though we didn’t live in Marksville, that’s something that we would do at home in New Orleans. At nighttime she’d pull out the pine needles, the raffia. She’d give me a needle and show me how to make the beginning of the basket, what they call the foot.

Cane and palmetto, you have to work with them immediately. Otherwise they dry out. So, I pick a day where I’m free, I don’t have a whole lot to do that day. I’ll go in the morning or mid-morning before it gets too hot and I’ll decide what place I want to go gather from. If it’s palmetto or cane, if it’s just myself, I wouldn’t get more than ten stalks. As soon as I get those, I’ll come back home or wherever it is that I’m going to be peeling. I’ll sit down with a chair outside. I have done it a few times inside or under the porch. I have a pocketknife and then I’ll just start splitting the cane or the palmetto.

I ended up just mainly focusing on palmet-

And there’s different ways that you can

to, the palmetto stems, since we have more

split cane; and the way that I split palmetto

of those around. But we found a docu-

is the way that Mr. Tom Colvin taught me. I

mentary, On the Tunica Trail, that was done

do it a little bit differently because some-

around the ‘60s. Archaeologist Jeffrey

times the stalks are really thick and those

Brain, he’s in there talking about our Tribe

are hard for me to bend, for me to manage

and the Tunica Treasure, the archeology,

to get the right thickness or thinness that

the site where it was found. So was my

I want. He’ll correct me because he wants

grandfather and so were my great aunts

me to do it the way that he does it; but then

and my great-grandmother, Rose Jackson

the last time I peeled in front of him, he kind

Pierite. And in the documentary they talk

of stepped back and let me do my thing.

about basketry and they show their bas-

I’m still slow at peeling. I take my time, but

kets. Rose Pierite shows a cane basket and

I get it done. I’ve noticed on days where it’s

I believe they may show a pine needle bas-

rained—not a downpour. You don’t want to

ket, as well. She was saying back then, “You

go after a downpour because the ground

can’t find cane nowadays. It’s way off in the

would just be too wet, too muddy. But, if it’s

Handwoven Tunica-Biloxi baskets. See page 75 for details.

sort of a cloudy day, moisture in the air, the

and you have to lay them out. I have some

materials keep longer, so you have a longer

right now that I have to lay out and some

period of time that you’re able to work with

of them may have curled, but I’ll see. I’ll

them. That’s really helpful. But you do what

see how it turns out.

you can under the conditions that you have.

We usually have a basketry summit in

Pinestraw, that’s different because there’s

October, so I would plan a gathering day

a period of drying. I have some at home

three months prior. We teach Tunica

that I have to sit with, I have to organize

language, and we’ve been training five

them. I have what’s sort of like a lattice

language apprentices and so that’s what

that I use to lay all the pine needles out. I

we do on an annual basis in preparation

lay them flat, but sometimes they curl up.

for our basketry summit. It’s an intertribal

When someone’s helping me to gather,

basketry summit. We used to plan gath-

I don’t try to correct them too much.

ering day for pine needle three months

I’m glad that they’re helping. But when I

prior. Within a few days before the bas-

gather the pinestraw, I like to do it just so,

ketry summit, we’ll get cane and palmetto.

so the pine needles lay flat. You don’t have

And for that event, we usually get enough

a big mess whenever you get back home

to give to other people that are there,

Opposite: Unknown Artist, Tunica. Plaited carrying basket with handle, c. 1930–1941. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Dr. Fred Kniffen, Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1942. Above left: Unknown Artist, Tunica. Plaited storage basket with handle, c. 1930–1941. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Dr. Fred Kniffen, Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1942. Above right: Unknown Artist, Tunica. Plaited handled storage basket with loop for hanging, c. 1930–1941. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Dr. Fred Kniffen, Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1942.

so they can try themselves or bring back

tried to peel, tried to shave off some of the

home some of the materials.

inner part of the palmetto. So, at a young

Mr. Tom encourages the old way of teaching. You have to know how to process your materials before you get to learn to weave.

age, she kind of knows what it is and what you do with the materials. So whenever she gets older, I think she’ll pick it up.

It takes a while, but it helps to learn that

Today, there’s two elder weavers that

way, because you become more indepen-

I know of that are still actively making

dent. You’re able to go out on your own.

baskets. But, through our work with the

You know what to look for, you know how

language and culture program, we’re en-

to work with it, how to process it. Weav-

couraging people around my age to pick up

ing is the easy part. I went down to Bayou

basketry, take an interest, to become the

Lacombe and sat with Mr. Tom at Foun-

cultural leaders in the community. Other

tainebleau Park. Leilani, my nine-year-old

Tribes may be more known for their bas-

daughter, went off and played in the water.

kets, but there’s people in our community

But whenever she got tired, she came and

that are taking an interest.

she sat with us. She picked up the knife and 57

Opposite, top: John Paul Darden. Plaited mat with Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, 2005. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Bottom: Darden in a reestablished Chitimacha rivercane patch, splitting Arundinaria gigantea with his teeth, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

JOHN PAUL DARDEN CHITIMACHA b. 1960, Charenton, St. Mary Parish One of the foremost practitioners of the Chitimacha basketry tradition, John Paul Darden creates baskets with centuries-old designs derived primarily from nature. Like his wife, Scarlett Darden, and sister, Melissa Darden, he learned his craft from family elders in the traditional manner. Baskets bearing the Darden name are in the permanent collections of the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C., the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnography at Harvard University, and London’s British Museum, amongst other institutions. I was born in 1960. I was born in a hos-

cane, because she was getting to where she

pital in New Iberia. I grew up here on a

couldn’t do that anymore.

reservation, so I lived all my life on reservation. I moved away for three years and that’s about as long as I could stay away. I was in New Iberia and we wound up back here, so we were here every day when I was off. All our families are here, mine and Scarlett’s.

We knew how to cut the cane, split it, peel it, we knew all that, we just hadn’t wove. Actually, we decided together we wanted to start learning to do baskets. So she started learning from her grandmother, and her grandmother had got sick and so she had only made one basket with her grand-

My grandmother always wove. Scarlett’s

mother. I used to talk a lot with my grand-

grandmother wove. They got older, so we

mother, so I’d ask her stuff and I started

actually would bring them out to gather

asking, wanting to learn to do the baskets.

cane. We’d take them out to the cane

So basically, she’d tell me what I needed to

patches, and they would tell us which cane

know, and I’d work on that and I’d bring it

they wanted and we’d cut it for them. We’d

back and I’d show her, and then she told

bring it back, and then they would peel it,

me what the next step was. Then once she

and we’d split some and we actually had

told me what to do next, I’d go home, I’d sit,

learned to peel a little bit but hadn’t done

and I’d mess with that, and I’d come back

it that much—just knew the basics on it.

when I’d perfected that—or when I’d feel

But then over the years we got to where,

I’d perfected it, because you don’t always

instead of bringing them, we would just go

perfect it, and they don’t mind telling you if

get the cane for them and cut it and bring

something is not quite right.

it back to him. Then toward the end with my grandmother, we actually went and got the cane and peeled it and gave her peeled

I went through that several times, each step each phase, and then finally I got a basket done and she was proud of that. 59

Works in the Chitimacha tradition. See pages 75–77 for details.

Unknown Artist. Partially destroyed double-woven basket with Nati (Bottom of the Basket) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of unknown donor, before 1978.

I know she was proud of me when I showed

figured out what she was telling me. Then I

her my first basket. And so from that point,

brought it back and showed her when I fin-

I learned other baskets through traveling.

ished it. It came out pretty nice. And I still

I saw some heart baskets in Shreveport.

have my first one at home. She was proud

They were down in the basement. We took pictures of all these baskets. So with that, when I brought back the pictures, she’s telling me what they were and one, it was the heart, my first heart. She goes in the back room and she comes out with a heart with the bird’s eye pattern on it. I’ve never even seen one before except for that museum. She said, “Oh yeah, we made those.” So she brings it out and shows it to me. And then she explains to me how you do it. So then I went home and did it and played with it till I 1

that I had learned to do the baskets. We’ve got baskets that have been around for hundreds of years. And they go from one generation to the next, and that’s why our patterns are consistent. You know, they’re handed down. Our family has pattern baskets, but we don’t have every pattern. There’s more than fifty patterns that I know of. We don’t have every one in our family’s pattern baskets—they had some of the ones that they kept and

Louisiana State Exhibit Museum.

Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited fanner basket with Makx Naakx (Little Trout, also known as Little Perch) and Waxtik Kani (Cow’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926.

they’re a few hundred years old, some of

When I’m making the basket, I’m focused

the baskets. They’ve been in the family for

just on the basket that I’m doing and the

a long time. Like I said, unfortunately, every

pattern. There are other times when you

family doesn’t have every pattern. They

think about the composing of a basket, or

have different favorites that they like to do.

if I’m thinking of something that I wanted

Like, my grandmother loved to do Bear’s

to do, you may do that unconsciously, like

Ear pattern, or the Bear’s Earring we call

sometimes in your sleep, just like when I

it, that was one of her favorites. Of course

did the heart. I worked on it at night and

there’s an old one that’s a pattern basket

you wake up and, “Oh yeah, I got that.” My

on that. And then we’ve got pattern baskets

double weaves—my grandmother never

for trunk-shaped double weaves and just

did double, but she explained them to me.

different ones. I only have a few of them at

Those are things that just come to me

my house, which is the ones I had when she

working in my mind, working it out. Scarlett

passed. I still have those.

weaves by looking at the patterns. I remember numbers in my head, so if I’m working

on this pattern, I count. There’s a number sequence to it. If cane’s too young, when it shoots out the ground—and within the first couple months it’s going to be whatever the height of the patch—twenty feet or thirty feet depending on which patch you get, it’s going to be that height. But it’ll be a little softer if you feel it and if you cut it, it is actually going to be thinner. You can’t use any of the young stuff. You have to wait till it’s mature. It needs to be at least a year old or better, preferably around two years. If you’re watching the patch then you know that. If you’re not, there is a telltale on it. If you see shucks growing on that cane, then don’t use it. You have to cut it, split it, peel it, then we dry it out. Each time I peel off, I’m taking a little bit more of the back off of it, and when I finish I got a pliable piece that is very bendable, you can twist it, do whatever. It’s just the very outer cortex of that cane. So when you look at a cane, what you see there is what I want, just that outer skin.

John Paul Darden in a reestablished Chitimacha rivercane patch, 2021. Photo by Dayna Bowker Lee.

patterns, we always put a red [splint], so you can always see that. When we finish, you’re gonna see that red, that row of red. And no matter how old that basket is, if you see that row of red, you know it’s one of our family members that made it.

Everything on the inside comes off. Once

My daughter that did a little when she

it’s dried out, we’ll go through our dyeing

was fourteen, but she never really got into

process, which is the red, black, and yellow.

it. She did it again, probably in her late

Those are our traditional colors. The natu-

twenties or early thirties when she wanted

ral color, the green, ages to that brownish

some. Scarlett made her work on some

color you see on there. So that’s the natural

then, but she knows the basics. She just

color. Today we use commercial dyes. My

has not sat down and taken the time to do

grandmother had switched to the commer-

it. So eventually, I’m sure she will be able

cial dyes, and that’s what we still use.

to do it because she knows the basics. But

Darden baskets, if you look at our baskets, in any one that we do it, once we finish our

you can’t force anybody to do the baskets. Baskets come from the heart.

Sitimaxa and Design Chitimacha weaver John Paul Darden has identified forty-nine zoomorphic and geometric design motifs in extant Chitimacha basketry. These designs reflect iconography associated with the Mississippian Tradition (ca. 1000–1500 AD) and document the world of early weavers who first preserved these images in cane. Not all designs are remembered in the ancient Sitimaxa language, but among those that remain are: Ketmix Soq, Mouse Tracks Nexjuwa Qaki, Alligator Entrails Ihic Ichti, Chain Makx Naakx, Little Trout or Perch Nati, Bottom of the Basket (to weave in the basket bottom pattern) Jekt Kani, Blackbird’s Eyes Jekt Qatin Kani, Large Blackbird’s Eyes Kaastp Qapx Tohn, Broken Plaits Goksgoksmank, Square Blocks Waxtik Kani, Cattle’s Eye Gusbi Suqu, Muscadine Rind Jiix Mix, Worm Tracks Jiix Mix Xanxwan, Worm Tracks Going to Start (Worm Tracks Going Out)

Detail view. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Nati (Bottom of the Basket) and Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, c. 1800–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Louisiana State Museum.

MARJORIE ABBEY BATTISE KOASATI (COUSHATTA) b. 1943, Kinder, Allen Parish One of only two practicing left-handed Koasati weavers, Marjorie Abbey Battise weaves pine needle baskets using a distinctive “backwards” stitch. She is a historian of Koasati foodways and, like her sister Myrna Wilson, learned tribal traditions from her parents, Bel and Nora Abbey. Her work has been shown at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in Washington, D.C. and, regionally, at the Natchitoches-NSU Folk Festival, Lafayette’s Louisiana Native Crafts Festival, and the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. She was inducted into the Louisiana Folklife Center’s Hall of Master Folk Artists in 1982.

MYRNA ABBEY WILSON KOASATI (COUSHATTA) b. 1945, Elton, Jefferson Davis Parish Tracing her ancestry to Ency Abbey Abbott, the Tribe’s last recognized medicine woman, Myrna Abbey Wilson—along with her sister Marjorie Abbey Battise—learned the art of coiled pine-needle basketry from their mother Nora Abbey. Wilson has worked to preserve the Tribe’s cultural heritage through the perpetuation of traditional Coushatta narratives. She has presented her baskets at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, Louisiana Folklife Festival, NatchitochesNSU Folk Festival, and the Bayou Indian Festival and was inducted into the Louisiana Hall of Master Folk Artists in 1982.

Opposite, top: Marjorie Abbey Battise discusses Koasati basketry in the exhibit, March 5, 2022. Photo by Ashley Lorraine. Opposite, bottom left: Marjorie Abbey Battise. Coiled and sewn round basket with lid, 2014. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Opposite, bottom right: Myrna Abbey Wilson at the Newcomb Art Museum, March 5, 2022. Photo by Ashley Lorraine. This page: Myrna Abbey Wilson. Sakcó (Crawfish) effigy basket, 1990. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection.

Marjorie Batisse (MB): My name is

until I made a basket. After that, we kept on

Marjorie Batisse. My birthdate is October

making baskets. My mama, Nora Abbey, was

26, 1942. My hometown is Elton. But three

making it and then the three of us would

miles from Elton is where I grew up. The

sit by her foot. My sister, Joyce,1 was the

parish I grew up in was Allen Parish. My

oldest, but she didn’t hardly sew baskets

Tribe is Coushatta.

then; she had other chores to do. And then

Myrna Wilson (MW): My name is Myrna Wilson, and I was born March 14, 1945. I’m from Elton, three miles away from Elton, and I was born in Allen Parish and was delivered at home. MB: My earliest memory of starting to make baskets was probably about nine, maybe ten. We learned it from my mother, Nora Abbey. She made baskets to support the family, an extra income for us. The home that we had was only a two-room, no electricity, no bathroom, no running water. We had a porch where Mother had two rocking chairs and that’s where she sat and made her baskets. We would sit at the end of the porch by the steps, and my mother would start the baskets for us and then we would learn by watching her make baskets. MW: I started making baskets whenever I

me, I was sitting by her, sitting down all the time making baskets. I learned a lot—oval baskets, oblong baskets, effigies, and all different types of baskets. In the old days, it was our utensils to use—like shelling field peas in those baskets—and the big, round pine needle basket we use as a container. The smell of the pine keeps the bugs away and we store it in shelves. The rivercane, nowadays we can’t hardly find it, so it’s kind of lost there. MB: Back then, in order to go and gather, we didn’t have any vehicles. We would hitch up the wagon, and a lot of women would ride together, they’d gather. They had water and sandwiches to bring with them, because it was an all-day process wherever they were going. MW: Then it was a burlap sack we had.

was three years old. My mama would sit on

MB: And then, if they had cardboard boxes,

the rocking chair, and I would sit close to her

that was even better. Those that got ahold

foot, sit on the floor. And then she would

of cardboard boxes, it was easy for them

give me the scraps of the pine needles and

to gather. But those that had burlap sacks,

the scraps of the raffia. And I would take

they would gather it in there. They had

that and start making baskets, and then I

to go to Camp Pearl, near Reeves. That’s

started learning more. She said, “If you learn

where they would go and gather. And when

a little bit more, you’re going to use the good

they were able to get ahold of an automo-

material.” So, I kept on trying and trying

bile, a truck, they would all pile up in the

1 Joyce Abbey Poncho is the only one of the Abbey sisters who makes both split cane and pine needle basketry. A fanner made by Joyce Poncho is included in the exhibit.

truck and they would go and they would

going to make a sewing basket, it’s round,

gather their pine needle baskets. They

so you start off with that and you have to

wouldn’t tell each other where they were

finish it. You have to really think of what

gathering the pine needles, the area, to give

you’re going to make, what you’re really

up their special spot where they gather. It’s

interested in making. My basket, to start off

a little secret, just a family’s own thing, just

with, I keep on sewing, close, close, close, so

for us to go get it.

it’s hold together about a half inch or an inch

MW: The best time to make a basket pliable is a rainy day, like early in the mornings, in the evenings, when it’s kind of damp. Whenever it’s dry, it’s just like razor sharp

around with nothing but raffia, pine needles wrapped around with raffia. And that’s how to know it’s mine. After that, I kinda stretch it out and sew it.

so you can’t make baskets. It’s going to be, I

MB: Mine is left-handed, so you can tell

would say hairy, the thread; the raffia will be

mine goes the opposite direction. When

shredded. It’s not going to be sturdy.

we’re not busy, whenever we have time,

MB: When you pull hard on the string, that’s when it breaks. MW: The type of basket depends on you. It depends on if you want to make a little effigy basket, you think about the basket that you’re going to make. But if you’re

whenever we have nothing to do, we sit down and make baskets. If we started a new basket, the bottom, we work on it maybe actually four hours. Your fingers hurt and you only have maybe a four-inch, maybe five-inch wide bottom, and it takes three days to try to complete it.

Works in the Coushatta tradition. See page 77 for details.

Top: Works in the Coushatta tradition. Bottom, from left to right: Joyce Poncho. Snapping Turtle effigy basket, 2002. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyimaɫí; raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Elizabeth Marie Thompson. Sattapoló (Box Turtle) effigy basket, 1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection.

MB: For display. People like to buy small baskets. MW: To me, basketry in my life, I’ve been making baskets all my life, so it’s a tradition. I really enjoy making the baskets, I really enjoy seeing the baskets, different people, different materials that they may just like, more into it all the time. I enjoy different materials that they use, different Tribal people, that they use. And so to me, it’s my symbol of life, for making baskets. I enjoy Elsie John. Coiled and sewn storage basket with lid, c. 1970– 1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, rafﬁa, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson.

making the baskets. I’m very traditional making basket. I’m for it for the kids, but only got one daughter. She don’t even make baskets no more, so that’s it. It’s just me. And

MW: If you’re making a bigger basket, it takes like two to three weeks to finish the basket.

the boys always says, “Mama, make me some baskets for Christmas, give me a basket for Christmas”, so they can keep and treasure it for themselves. So, that’s what they’ve been

MB: You could see your mother sitting

asking. It’s a memory. They enjoy seeing me

down and say, “I’m going to make a vase

making baskets.

basket” and you can just about see her, how she used to sew. And you think back and say, “I think I can make one like that.” But the stuff that they made back in the ’50s and the ’60s and the ’70s, all have changed and they all just make certain kind now. Like, we used to make twelve-inch baskets and fourteen-inch round baskets. They don’t make those anymore. MW: They used to make purses and all that. Bread trays that are oblong, real long. People not really into big, big baskets, you

MB: I’d like for the basketry to continue. I have taught both of my daughters and my granddaughters. They know how to make it, but I haven’t seen them complete a basket yet. But I’m very hopeful. One guy, graduated a couple of years ago, started learning how to make a basket by asking and wanting to learn, and he picked it up. Now he makes pretty baskets. MW: And Leonard Battise stared making the rivercane basket, trying to teach people.

know? And then they don’t have no use for

MB: With me it’s like an identity of who you

us. Then, we had the use for us, like storing

are, how you grew up, and your lifestyle,

beans and all that. But now, all it is, is a

your style of making a basket.

souvenir for them. 71

Handwoven Coushatta baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Lorena Langley. Albatá (Alligator) effigy basket, 2007. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyimaɫí; raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Joyce Poncho. Snapping Turtle effigy basket, 2002. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyimaɫí; raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Elizabeth Marie Thompson. Sattapoló (Box Turtle) effigy basket, 1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Lorena Langley. Pa:sattá (Armadillo) effigy basket, 2002. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyima ɫí; raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Gladys Celestine Shutt. Ta.ó (Fish) effigy basket, 2005. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Elizabeth Marie Thompson. Kottí (Frog) effigy basket, 1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyima ɫí; raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Myrna Wilson. Sakcó (Crawfish) effigy basket, 1990. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection.

Effigy Baskets Derived from the Latin effingere, meaning

to pine needles in the 1930s. Weavers fash-

“to shape artistically,” effigies encompass

ion turtles, owls, alligators, and other native

an array of zoomorphic Native American

species as well as animals, like elephants and

creations, from ceramic vessels and stone

camels, seen only in photographs. While the

pendants to wooden pipes and burial

works’ hollow bodies and fitted lids allow

mounds, many dating back centuries. The

for limited storage, their function remains

Koasati have incorporated such forms rela-

primarily decorative, rather than utilitarian

tively recently, with effigy baskets becoming

or ceremonial.

prevalent following the transition from cane 73

EXPANDED IMAGE DESCRIPTIONS Page 37. Pictured left to right: Works cited on page 43. Handwoven Houma fans: Cyril Billiot. Plaited fan, c. 1970s. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Claude Medford, Jr. Marie Dean. Braided and sewn fan with cypress handle, 2002. Dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor), bald cypress (Taxodium distichum), ribbon. Courtesy of a private collection. Douglas Fazio. Plaited fan, 2010. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Courtesy of a private collection. Handwoven Houma baskets: Ivy Billiot. Plaited basket with handles, 2002. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Courtesy of a private collection. Ivy Billiot. Plaited utility basket with handles, 2005. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Courtesy of a private collection. Cyril Billiot. Plaited laundry basket, c. 1960–1981. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982. Cyril Billiot. Plaited hamper with lid, c. 1960–1981. Bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982. Page 48. Top image: Handwoven Choctaw baskets. Pictured left to right: Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited Taposhake chufa (pointed-bottom basket) with handle, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University. Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited Taposhake shakapa (elbow storage basket), c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University. Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited Taposhake chufa (pointed-bottom basket) with handle, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, donated before 1966. Mathilde Johnson. Plaited market basket with lid and handle, c. 1940–1969. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the New Orleans Museum of Art, Gift of Harold Burns, 2015.55.9. Mathilde Johnson. Plaited sewing basket with lid and handle, c. 1960. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the New Orleans Museum of Art, Gift of Harold Burns, 2015.55.11. Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited quiver basket, 1870–1900. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Louisiana State Museum, Gift of Avis Ogilvy Moore. Tom Colvin. Bullnose basket with loop for hanging, 2003. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited purse or pouch, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. Paul Jahncke, 1926. Mathilde Johnson. Plaited hanging basket with loop, c. 1960. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the New Orleans Museum of Art, Gift of Harold Burns, 2015.55.10. Unknown Artist, Choctaw. Plaited sewing basket with lid and handle, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane 74

(Arundinaria gigantea) or dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. Paul Jahncke, 1926. Dorothy Thompson. Plaited square cylindrical basket (in process), 2010. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Claude Medford, Jr. Plaited Ufko (fanner basket), replicating Caddo design fragment from Mounds Plantation, 1985. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Rose Fisher Greer. Plaited Ufko (fanner basket), 2021. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the artist. Elsie Battiest. Plaited Ishshoha (sieve), 1992. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Elsie Battiest. Plaited Ufko taposhak (winnowing scoop), 1992. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Elsie Battiest. Plaited Ufko (fanner basket), 1992. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Page 55. Handwoven Tunica-Biloxi baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Anna Mae Juneau. Coiled and sewn round basket, c. 1970–1981. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982. Rosa Jackson Pierite. Round trinket basket with lid, c. 1970s. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Anna Mae Juneau. Round basket, 1999. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Courtesy of a private collection. Anna Mae Juneau. Coiled and sewn fruit basket, c. 1970–1981. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Courtesy of the LSU Museum of Natural Science, Sharon Goad of the Department of Geography and Anthropology, 1982. Rosa Jackson Pierite. Basket with cover, 1974. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Courtesy of the New Orleans Museum of Art, Gift of Harold Burns, 2015.55.19. Elisabeth Pierite. Bread basket with knobbed lid, 2021–2022. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, raffia. Courtesy of the artist, for the Craig family. (Also pictured in detail photo below.) Page 60. Top image: Handwoven Chitimacha baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with top: Jiix Mix (Worm Tracks) design and bottom: Qukx (Snake) design, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Goksgoksmank (Square Blocks) design, c. 1890–1949. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. R. E. Brumby, 1953. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Jekt Kani (Blackbird’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Gusbi Suqu (Muscadine Rind) design, c. 1890-1949. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of 75

the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven square storage trunk with Waxtik Kani (Cow’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1949. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. R. E. Brumby, 1953. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Nati (Bottom of the Basket) and Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, c. 1800–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Louisiana State Museum. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Fanner basket, c. 1890–1920. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University. Bottom image: Handwoven Chitimacha baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: John Paul Darden. Plaited fanner basket with Gusbi Suqu (Muscadine Rind) and Kaastp Qapx Tohn (Broken Plaits) design, c. 2012. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the artist. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited fanner basket with Jekt Kani (Blackbird’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited small utilitarian basket with Kaastp Qapx Tohn (Broken Plaits) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited fanner basket with Kaastp Qapx Tohn (Broken Plaits) design and Jekt Qatin Kani (Big Blackbird’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited square-bottom bowl with restricted mouth, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited heart-shaped basket with Jekt Kani (Blackbird’s Eye) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited small utilitarian basket, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Ethel W. Perkins Collection of Native Basketry, 1951. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven cigar case with Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, c. 1890–1949. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. R. E. Brumby, 1953. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven, lidded storage basket with Ketmix Soq (Mouse Tracks) design, c. 1890-1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. John Paul Darden. Plaited mat with Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, 2005. Rivercane 76

(Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Scarlett Darden. Plaited heartshaped basket with loop for hanging with Ketmix Soq (Mouse Tracks) design, 2005. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of a private collection. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Partially destroyed double-woven basket with Nati (Bottom of the Basket) design, c. 1890–1929. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of unknown donor, before 1978. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Double-woven storage trunk with Nexjuwa Qaki (Alligator Entrails) design, c. 1890-1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited square basket with Jiix Mix Xanxwan (Worm Track) design, c. 1890-1949. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Gift of Mrs. R. E. Brumby, 1953. Unknown Artist, Chitimacha. Plaited market or gathering basket with handles and Kaastp Qapx Tohn (Broken Plaits) design, c. 1890-1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Unknown artist, Chitimacha. Plaited bowl-shaped basket with Dots (upper, lower bands) design, c. 1890-1925. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea). Courtesy of the Middle American Research Institute of Tulane University, Mrs. W. P. Johnston Collection, Gift of S. McIlhenny, 1926. Page 69. Handwoven Coushatta baskets. Pictured left to right, top to bottom: Bessie John. Coiled and sewn basket with lid, c. 1970s. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of the New Orleans Museum of Art, Gift of Harold Burns, 2015.55.20. Lelia Battise. Coiled and sewn vase, c. 1985. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Lorena Langley. Plaited Alimpá (fanner basket) with Worm Tracks on Pine Bark design, 2005. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea), iɫaní. Courtesy of a private collection. Lorena Langley. Turkey effigy basket, 1970. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, and cone, coyyima ɫí; raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Ronald Langley. Plaited Alimpá (fanner basket), c. 1970-1999. Rivercane (Arundinaria gigantea), iɫaní. Collection of Don Fuson. Myrna Wilson. Hacokkpalpá (Butterfly) effigy basket, 2005. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Marjorie Battise. Coiled and sewn round basket with lid, 2014. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Myrna Wilson. Swan effigy basket, 2014. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Courtesy of a private collection. Lorena Langley. Coiled and sewn vase, 2003. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí, cowry shell. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Ron Wilkinson. Myrna Wilson. Coiled and sewn Sokhá (Pig) effigy basket, 2008. Longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) needles, coyyihissí, raffia, pahí. Collection of the Williamson Museum, Donation of Dr. Susan E. Dollar. 77

creative exchange of ideas and cross-disciplinary collaborations around innovative art and design. The museum preserves and advances scholarship on the Newcomb and Tulane art collections. The academic institution for which the museum is named was founded in 1886 as the first degree-granting coordinate college for women in America. The H. Sophie Newcomb Memorial College was distinguished for educating women in the sciences, physical education, and, most importantly, art education. Out of its famed arts program, the Newcomb Pottery was born. In operation from 1895 until 1940, the Newcomb enterprise produced metalwork, fiber arts, and the now internationally renowned Newcomb pottery. The museum today presents original exhibitions and programs that explore socially engaged art, civic dialogue, and community transformation. The museum also pays tribute to its heritage through shows that recognize the contributions of women to the fields of art and design. As an entity of an academic institution, the Newcomb Art Museum creates exhibitions that utilize the critical frameworks of diverse disciplines in conceptualizing and interpreting art and design. By presenting issues relevant to Tulane and the greater New Orleans region, the museum also serves as a gateway between on and off campus constituencies.

LAND ACKNOWLEDGMENT The city known as New Orleans, including the Tulane campus and Newcomb Art Museum, occupies an Indigenous space at the confluence of many waterways and travel routes. The boundaries of this place have always been permeable; the land and water on which our city sits has witnessed trade and cultural interaction between various Indigenous Nations for centuries. These nations include, but are not limited to the Chitimacha, Biloxi, Houma, Choctaw, Atakapa-lshak, Washa, Chawasha, and Tunica. To this day, Indigenous Peoples dwell in the city. Bulbancha is a Choctaw word meaning “the place of foreign languages;’ and it is still in use as a word to define our urban locale. Indigenous Peoples have contributed an enduring cultural legacy to New Orleans—a place where Indigenous and African Peoples have been trafficked, enslaved, and discriminated against; and where People of Color have fought for justice and equity for over 300 years. This statement embodies Newcomb Art Museum’s commitment to inclusion and understanding of our institutional history and responsibility to continue learning.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS Dr. Dayna Bowker Lee is an anthropologist based in New Orleans who specializes in Native American cultures. From 1999 to 2008, she was Regional Folklorist at Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, where she earned a BA in Anthropology and an MA in History. Lee earned a Ph.D. in Anthropology from the University of Oklahoma in Norman. Her writing appears in numerous publications, including The Work of Tribal Hands: Southeastern Split Cane Basketry, a book she co-edited with Hiram Gregory in 2006; A Unique Slant of Light: The Bicentennial History of Art in Louisiana (2012); The Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture (2012); Native Americans: Putting Adoption, Captivity and Slavery in Context (2012); Louisiana Women: Their Lives and Times (2009); and the journal 64 Parishes. She has served as an Historian of Record for the Jena Band of Choctaw Indians and on the board of Kiwat Hasinay Caddo Language Foundation. Her affiliations also include the Creole Heritage Center and the Williamson Museum at Northwestern State University in Natchitoches. Dr. Judith M. Maxwell (Kuwakɛra), Ixq’anil, is the Louise Rebecca Schawe and Williedell Schawe Professor of Linguistics and Anthropology at Tulane University. Maxwell received her PhD from the University of Chicago in 1982, and she works on discourse primarily within Mayan languages, particularly those of the K’iche’an and Q’anjob’alan families. Questions that interest her within discourse are canons for artistry, encoding of cultural constructs, mechanisms of coherence, co-reference and tracking, knowledge and belief states, presuppositions, creating and indexing societal relationships, alignments, animacy hierarchies in relationship to syntactic and pragmatic structures, and masking. Dr. Maxwell also works with contemporary language issues: the processes of standardization, language maintenance and shift, bilingual/multicultural education, and issues of language, identity, and authenticity. Since 2010, she has headed a collaborative team of Tulane students and Tunica-Biloxi tribal members and scholars working to revitalize Tunica language, a language which has been “sleeping” since the last native speaker, Sesostrie Youchigant, died in 1948.

ABOUT THE MUSEUM The Newcomb Art Museum of Tulane University builds on the Newcomb College legacy of education, social enterprise, and artistic experience. Presenting inspiring exhibitions and programs that engage communities both on and off campus, the museum fosters the

The Core Memory: Louisiana Native American Basketry exhibition and related programs are funded in part by the Dorothy Beckemeyer Skau Art and Music Fund at the Newcomb Institute; South Arts in partnership with the National Endowment for the Arts and the Louisiana Division of the Arts; the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation and a Rebirth grant administered by the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities (LEH) and provided by the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) as part of the American Rescue Plan (ARP) and the NEH Sustaining the Humanities through the American Rescue Plan (SHARP) initiative. Any views, findings, conclusions or recommendations expressed in this exhibition and related programs and publications do not necessarily represent those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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