Artisan Memorial

 

Without question, the most painful aspect of running this organization is the inevitability of receiving a heartbreaking phone call that an Artisan member has passed away. Silversmiths are few and far between. The talented individuals you’ll read about have left behind legacies that are rare and admirable. The Artisan Memorial will keep these silversmiths alive in our hearts, and remind us that carrying on this great craft is part of America’s heritage. Jeffrey Herman, Executive Director

Send remembrances here.


Susan Elizabeth Wood
Mendocino, CA
Born in Baltimore, MD
June 12, 1951 - December 29, 2006

Carla Tomaszewski, 3/14/2007: I had only found out about Susan’s death at the end of February while attending the ACC show in Baltimore. Susan and I spent the first 12 years of our lives growing up together in Sudbrook Park, a suburb of Baltimore near Pikesville, MD. We were next-door neighbors/fast friends, doing everything together. Each of us considered the other’s parents our own. When her parents, Ron and Orlyn (both medical doctors) decided to move to Florida, we kids, at the age of 12 were devastated. They left on my birthday, June 28th,  1963. Eventually they made their way out to California where Susan’s dad got a job at U. of Berkley. Through the years we visited each other and kept in touch through holiday cards and phone calls.

Susan was steered to her profession at a very early age through her exposure to her parent’s hobby of lapidary work. Her mom loved enamel work and her dad cut, polished and set precious and semi-precious gems. We kids loved it when her dad would give us the leftovers of cut and tumbled stones for our “rock collections”. By the age of 10 we could name all the gems by their proper names.

The last time I spoke with Susan was about 6 months ago. I knew she had cancer, but she would not let on how bad off she was. Trying to think ahead, I asked Susan for the address and phone number of her daughter Canada, since I didn’t have it and would need to know about things if Susan became more ill. It was by a very strange set of circumstances that I found out about her death. We had been attending the ACC’s annual show at the Baltimore convention center off and on for many years. However, it had been a long while since I last attended, so I and my daughter made a special day trip to Baltimore for the show this past Saturday (Feb. 24). After going through the first several rows of the show, I came across a goldsmith from California. On a whim, I said to the artist, “You might know a good friend of mine – Susan Elizabeth Wood.” She had that glimmer of recognition, and then embarrassingly said, “Oh yes, didn’t you know, Susan died not too long ago.”  I was floored and had sudden bursts of tears throughout the afternoon (and following weeks). When I returned home, I called Canada and confirmed the sad news. She said she had wanted to contact me but could not find my number among her mom’s papers. I truly feel that Susan, in some way guided me to that California goldsmith, a total stranger among thousands of people in that convention hall, to let me know she was gone.

You really can’t imagine how distressed I am that I cannot be at the memorial. First, I feel very guilty and empty inside that I did not know until Feb. 24th that Susan had died, and that I wasn’t there to say goodbye to her. Now, with her memorial upcoming, I cannot be there either, and it is really a bummer! Please let Canada know that I will be with you all in mind and spirit to give a final farewell to Susan. You know, I was thinking that of all those who will be there, I am the one who has known Susan and her family the longest. We were both almost exactly the same age – Susan’s birthday on June 12th and mine on the 28th. Also, my mom, Stella Hazard who is 91, still lives in the house next door to where Susan and her sister Carolyn grew up. Mom knew and loved Susan’s parents Ron and Orlyn. Stella also wishes to extend her sympathies to Canada and all Susan’s friends and colleagues during this time of mourning.

The following is an obituary written by Susan's good friend Irene McGuckin. She collaborated with Susan over the years and was with her the last 2 months of her life.

Susan Elizabeth Wood died Friday, December 29, 2006, in Oakland, California, following a long illness. She was the daughter of Ronald and Orlyn Wood, and was a long-time resident of Mendocino.

A gifted and widely respected metalsmith for nearly thirty years, Susan credited the Mendocino Art Center with sparking her lifelong passion for metals, when she took her first jewelry class there at the age of 15. She went on to earn her MFA in Metal Arts at Humboldt State University. Susan gave back to both schools, teaching at Humboldt for several semesters, and both directing and teaching in the Mendocino Art Center's jewelry department for many years. In recognition of Susan's many contributions, the Center last year rededicated the jewelry studio in her name. For the past four years, until illness forced her resignation in September 2006, Susan had been adjunct professor of metalsmithing at California College of the Arts in Oakland.

Possessed of an exacting work ethic and artistic standard, Susan's mantra was "front, back, inside and out," and each piece of metalwork she produced was finished in all four dimensions. She excelled in soldering, fabricating, woven metal techniques, chain making, and mechanisms, and taught these techniques to a grateful and devoted group of budding and seasoned metal arts students at countless schools and art centers throughout the United States. Her award-winning work has been included in numerous books and publications, as well as private and public collections.

Susan was devoted to her art and to her students, to whom she gave generously of her vast knowledge and her limited time among us. Those fortunate enough to have known her will remember a tremendously talented artist, but even more, a modest, kind, and gentle spirit whose ever-present radiant, angelic smile belied a quirky, acerbic, and devilish sense of humor. She lived and died with a courage and grace that will never be forgotten by those who knew and loved her.

She is survived by her beloved daughter Arianna Canada Onstad, her devoted Siamese cat Bodhisattva, and her many, many loving friends, colleagues, and students. Go in peace and laughter, Susan–you are an inspiration to us all.

For information regarding a future memorial service in celebration of Susan's life, please email SusanWoodInfo@yahoo.com. Friends wishing to help with planning the event should also email their desire to this address.

 


Gayle Clarke
Williamsburg, Virginia
Born in Richmond, VA
July 5, 1941 - March 29, 2006

SAS Executive Director Jeffrey Herman, 5/7/2006: Gayle M. Clarke passed away quietly earlier this year from cancer. Her selflessness and concern for others was evident right up to the week before she died.  Even then, as she many times before, she made me blush with her seamless, edgy comebacks.

She was an Artisan member of SAS since its inception in 1989. Gayle served a seven-year apprenticeship at Colonial Williamsburg (the only apprenticeship program in the United States), staying and specialized in piercing their very large handled baskets while answering questions from visitors to the silversmith's shop at the Golden Ball.

From Gail Hedgepeth, Master Hand Engraver, 5/9/2006: Along with being an accomplished seamstress she was also an avid salsa dancer, entering and winning several competitions. She loved the outdoors, animals and her flower garden.

What started out as a job selling jewelry to support herself and her 3 children, turned into her life's work. Also, Gayle enhanced her skills by studying engraving over 15 years and applying the art to her pieces. She participated in the SAS Engraving Silver Works program.

She always held herself with grace and stature, but loved a fun time. She was the best friend anyone could ever ask for. She knew how to be a good friend. She loved family gatherings so much. In the times where holidays approached, she would spend dinners and events with my large family rather that sit home alone. She came to know all of my family and loved and cared for all of us. She was a woman who loved life, family, and friends. Also, her underlying goal was always to see her three children grow into wonderful adults and her contribution to them was her dedication to see they got the education, love and support they needed to grow.

From The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation before Gayle's passing: Traveling through the English countryside in 1741, William Hutton happened upon a blacksmith's shop, where he saw "one or more females, stripped of their upper garments, and not overcharged with the lower, wielding the hammer with all the grace of the sex." If Hutton was taken aback, it might not have been so much by the costuming as by finding women working a trade usually practiced by men.

Journeyman Gayle Clarke is working in the James Craig silversmith shop on a typical July day in Colonial Williamsburg. Her sleeves are rolled, she's sweating, and she's swinging a forging hammer over a thick piece of silver. In spite of the Tidewater humidity, there's a fire blazing in the fireplace so Clarke can anneal the ingot when it's hardened. Guests mill about the shop. A woman looks around, walks into the back, peers down the hall, turns to her companions and says, "Oh, I guess none of the silversmiths are working today."

Clarke laughs as she recounts the story, variations of which have happened many times over her nearly twenty-five-year career. "I don't get much of an opportunity to talk to those folks," she says. "They've got their minds made up about women's roles. But the guests that ask where my husband is, or why am I working, those are the guests that are fascinated to find out about the historical accuracy of my presence."

 


Allan Adler
Studio City, California
Born in Missoula, Montana
May 8, 1916 - December 3, 2002

Following article courtesy of Silver Magazine©:Celebrated silversmith Allan Adler died after suffering a stroke. He was 86.

Adler began his career as an apprentice in 1938, learning the trade from famed seventh-generation silversmith Porter Blanchard, who was his father-in-law. In 1940 he went into business for himself and soon began attracting celebrity clients such as Errol Flynn, Orson Welles, and Montgomery Clift. He became known as “silversmith to the stars” because of his association with Hollywood luminaries, a relationship that continued throughout his life. In more recent years his customers included Steven Spielberg, Cher, Julie Andrews, Paul Newman, Candice Bergen, and Michael Jackson, who commissioned an elaborate silver belt for a concert tour.

Born in Missoula, Montana, Adler moved to Burbank as a child. In 1938 he married Rebecca Blanchard and two years later opened his first shop on Sunset Boulevard. In 1980 a fire destroyed the shop and Adler built a new workshop in the San Fernando Valley. He also opened shops in La Jolla, Corona del Mar, and San Francisco.

Adler designed flatware and hollowware in plain, geometric shapes with clean lines. A teardrop-shaped teapot and a coffee urn looking like an oversized egg were two of his favorite pieces. “I strive for simplicity and believe that simplicity is beauty and that a thing of beauty lives forever,” he once said.

One of his many special commissions was a silver coffee urn (below), which he made for a John F. Kennedy presidential campaign fund-raising event. He also designed flatware for California Governor Pat Brown and a silver hairbrush for Winston Churchill. Photo courtesy of the private collection of Mr. and Mrs. William Hughes Jr. Photo by Larry Larry Stanley.

With the advent of World War II, Adler added jewelry to his repertoire. It exhibits the same clean lines typical of his hollowware and flatware. It also gave him an opportunity to incorporate pre-Columbian iconography, which he particularly loved, into his work.

Adler was one of the few remaining master silversmiths in the country and considered himself a member of an endangered species. “Once I had twenty-four craftsmen working for me. Now I have seven,” he told the Los Angeles Times in 1990. “More recently that number dropped to four. I do not exaggerate when I say silversmithing is a lost art. It died in my lifetime.”

Adler received numerous awards, including a “Living Treasure” proclamation from the state of California legislature and the Good Design Award from the Museum of Modern Art in New York. In 1953 he was asked to design crowns for Miss Universe and Miss U.S.A. He also designed the famous silver “shoe” campaign pin (Fig. 2) for Adlai Stevenson’s presidential race in 1959 as well as pins for the first seven American astronauts in space.

Adlai Stevenson shoe pin. Photo by Larry Larry Stanley.

In his spare time Adler loved to sail. He owned a seventy-six-foot yacht, Shawnee, built the same year he was born, which he bought in 1954 and painstakingly restored to its original condition.

Adler is survived by his wife of sixty-three years, his daughters Linda Adler Hughes and Cynthia Adler Larson, three grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren.

Articles about Allan Adler appeared in Silver Magazine in November/December 1998, January/February 1999, and September/October 2001.

 


Henry Petzal
La Jolla, California
Born in Berlin, Germany
August 16, 1906 - March 15, 2002

From Art Pryor, 7/5/2002: I am Henry Petzal's son. I am sorry to inform you that Henry passed away, quietly, in his sleep on March 15, 2002, at the age of 95. I am the curator of his tools, plans etc. If anyone has any thoughts about these materials, please contact me at: artpmdk@aol.com. Thank you.

SAS Suporting Member Fred Zweig, 7/5/2002: It is always sad to hear of someone's passing. Doubly sad when it is someone you admire. I did not know him personally but knew of his skill in design and craftmanship. His passing is a great loss to us all. I have never believed that the storage of tools does any honor to the man or the tools. I think they should find a home with a craftsman so that they can continue their usefulness and can be used to creat items of use and beauty. The designs and paperwork should be placed in a repository that would allow access to them for research and study of Henry's life and love of the craft. I have no suggestions as to where this place might be. Henry Petzal will be missed.


Reginald W. Wood
Gardner, Massachusetts
Born in Penzance Cornwall, England
October 20, 1919 - September 11, 2000

SAS Executive Director Jeffrey Herman, 1/25/2001: Reggie was born in Penzance, Cornwall, England, and came to the U.S. in 1921. He attended public school in Gardner, Massachusetts, and went on to Worcester Vocational for sheet metal development, and Worcester State College for production control & manufacturing methods.

Reggie began his apprenticeship at Arthur J. Stone Silver Shop in 1937. Later that year the shop was sold and renamed Stone Associates. He was trained under Stone craftsmen including Arts & Crafts Medalists Herbert Taylor in holloware and Charles Brown in flatware until 1942.

Reggie served in the U.S. Airforce from 1942-1945 in Europe, performing sheet metal repair on battle damaged aircraft.

Returning to Stone Associates in 1945, Reggie produced holloware and flatware until the shop's closing in 1957. After the closing, he worked in product development and management in private industry including holloware and flatware sample making for Old Newbury Crafters in Newburyport, Massachusetts. Reggie continued creating ecclesiastical objects, trays, pitchers, bowls, presentation pieces, trophies, and jewelry up to his death.

He was a strong believer in form following function which was reflected in his heavy utilitarian pieces. Whenever we saw each other, he would invariably comment on the improbable marketing of much of the silver being produced by student silversmiths; Reggie was extremely practical in his design.



Frederick A. Miller
Brecksville, Ohio
Born in Akron, Ohio
February 6, 1913 - January 8, 2000

SAS Artisan Michael Banner, 1/11/2000: It was indeed a sad phone call from Jeffrey [Herman] relating Fred Miller's death, a person always in my mind when in the process of completing a piece of holloware. I have many fond memories of that short and very productive year as a student at the Cleveland Art Institute in the early sixties, with a year between undergraduate graduation and the army. The Cleveland Art Institute agreed to take me into a professional studies program for the nine months working with Fred Miller, John Paul Miller, and Kenny Bates. It was a very intense program working with Fred for three days, John Paul one day, and Kenny one day. I have never worked with people who were more caring and diligent in the teaching process. Fred, as always, was the toughest taskmaster, only because he wanted one to do all things correctly. He was always good for a lively discussion concerning what was right and wrong. I feel that the trio were responsible for my eventual progress into holloware. When I had my studio in Chicago they would visit and I felt proud that they would take the time to look in to see what work I was involved with at the time. That was typical when at Cleveland. The school would not let me use the facilities in the evening unless I was in an evening class. When John Paul heard this he helped me set up a studio in my apartment relating as how he made jewelry on his footlocker in the Army, so how much space did one need.

They really cared for their students and they have made wonderful mentors for my life as a craft person. Good bye Fred, have a wonderful trip.

SAS Artisan Elizabeth Nutt, 1/12/2000: From the time I was twelve I wanted to be a Silversmith and study with Fred Miller at the Cleveland Institute of Art. After high school and two years of college I was accepted into the program. Mr. Miller was a brilliant teacher and a daunting taskmaster. As the only female silversmithing major in my class I was completely intimidated but resolutely vowed to prove to Mr. Miller that the time and effort he spent on my behalf would not be wasted. I was serious about my chosen profession and would not "go off and get married" as he felt his female students so often did.

Fred worked on his own projects at night and as our skills developed we were permitted to work then too as long as we did not disturb him. Fred moved metal so quickly and accurately that he made everything look easy. To our amazement he would "raise" a large piece while squatting on top of the studio's center table, a position that seemed to defy gravity. We were mesmerized and inspired to see a master at work.

My favorite memory of Fred was at my 1963 graduation. As I went up to receive my diploma I looked into the audience and saw Mr. Miller looking up at me with a stern intense gaze. Our eyes met and for a split second he smiled and winked. At that moment I knew that my hard work would pay off and that I would be successful.

All of us who were fortunate enough to study with Fred Miller feel such a sense of loss at the news of his death. It is the end of an era, but he left us with a body of work that will inspire generations of silversmiths to come.

SAS Artisan John Marshall, 1/14/2000: Fred Miller was a silversmith that cannot be forgotten in the history of the field because of his dedication to craftsmanship and pure design. I will always be grateful for his teaching which played a major part in my career.


Richard H. Reinhardt
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Born in Philadelphia
September 8, 1921 - December 29, 1998

Winter 1998-1999 issue of SASnews: We were saddened to learn that Richard H. Reinhardt died late last year. He had been an Artisan member since the Society's founding in 1989. Known for his exploration of new ideas, outstanding craftsmanship, and teaching skills, Reinhardt was an inspiration to his students. Below is his obituary which appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer:

Richard H. Reinhardt, 77, of Newtown Square [PA], a silversmith and jewelry maker who spent more than 50 years at the University of the Arts [in Philadelphia] as a student, teacher of crafts, and school official, died of bladder cancer on December 29 at Paoli Memorial Hospital.

During the 1950s, Reinhardt founded the jewelry and metalsmithing programs and was chairman of the crafts department at the Philadelphia Museum School of Art.

When the school became the Philadelphia College of Art in the 1960s, he was chairman of the industrial design department. He was named associate dean of faculty in 1965, became dean five years later, and served until 1976.

He taught silversmithing and jewelry making for eight years, then returned to the dean's office for two years to help establish the University of the Arts. He retired in 1986.

Widely known as a silversmith, he exhibited his work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Philadelphia Art Museum, and in museums in Rochester, NY; Amsterdam, Holland; and elsewhere. His work is included in the permanent collections of museums in Boston and Philadelphia, and in the Smithsonian.

In a retrospective show at the University of the Arts last spring, Inquirer art critic Edward J. Sozanski called attention to Reinhardt's "Superb craftsmanship" and said his career "demonstrates that craftsmanship can readily transmute into art, even when the craftsman isn't striving consciously to produce art."

He added: "After more than a half-century of hammering silver, Reinhardt appears to be having fun with it by seeing how far he can push traditional silversmithing techniques. It's inspiring to encounter an artist so long at the bench who not only still enjoys his work but who continues to grow in its practice."

Reinhardt began studies at the Pennsylvania Museum and School of Industrial Art (as the art school was then known). He left during World War II to work as a draftsman and to serve in the Marines as a drill instructor.

He returned to school after the war, earning his degree and staying to teach. When he retired, he was named professor emeritus and made an honorary doctor of fine arts.

He is survived by his wife, Hazel; two children, five grand- children; and five great-grandchildren. Memorial contributions may be made to the Richard H. Reinhardt Scholarship Fund at the University of the Arts, 320 S. Broad St., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19102.

Ronald Hayes Pearson
Deer Isle, Maine
Born in New York, New York
September 9, 1924 - August 25, 1996

Fall 1996-Spring 1997 issue of SASnews: Ronald Hayes Pearson, a metalsmith for nearly 50 years whose many honors include the 1996 Gold Medal Award from the American Craft Council, died August 25, 1996, in home in Deer Isle, Maine. He was 71.

His work is included in major collections at the Smithsonian Institution, the American Craft Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and many other noted institutions. Governor King of Maine recently nominated Pearson for the National Treasure Award, administered by the University of North Carolina. He was one of five finalists for that honor. Although best known for his jewelry, Pearson made significant contributions to the areas of sculpture, industrial design, teaching, and to organizations that support craft. Chief among such organizations was Deer Isle's Haystack Mountain School of Crafts, where he taught and served on the board of trustees for many years.

Pearson studied at the University of Wisconsin and the School for American Craftsmen at Alfred University. For many years, he lived in Rochester, New York, where he and three other craft artists opened Shop One, the first artist-owned craft gallery in the country. He moved to Deer Isle in 1971.

In 1987, he received an honorary doctorate from the Portland School of Art (now the Maine College of Art).

Donations may be made to the Ronald Hayes Pearson Scholarship Fund at Haystack for metals students. For information, call 207/348-2306.



Solve Hallqvist
Cleveland, Ohio
Born in Lund Sweden
April 4, 1919 - April 24, 1996

SAS Executive Director Jeffrey Herman in Spring 1996 issue of American Silversmith: SAS Artisan Solve Hallqvist of Cleveland, Ohio, died at the age of 77 on April 21, 1996, from a brief illness. Solve, an Artisan member of SAS, was well known in the Cleveland area and taught silversmithing for 16 years at the Cleveland Institute of Art. Born April 4, 1919, in Sweden, he apprenticed in 1942 with C.F. Carlman, Stockholm's Court Jeweler, and furthered his education from 1943-1950 with for Baron Eric Von Flemming, Stockholm's Court Silversmith.

His professional activities until his death were: 1948, silversmith for Bone Bakker & Zoon, Amsterdam, Holland, and Jan & Leo Brom's Edelsmitse, Utrecht, Holland; 1951, Experimental Silverwork for Steuben Crystal, New York, NY; 1952, silversmith for Henry Hopkins, Baltimore, MD; 1952-1984, silversmith for Potter & Mellon, Inc. Cleveland, OH; 1960-1961, Partner & silversmith with Stacey-Hallqvist, Toronto, Ontario, Canada; and from 1984 up to his death, maintained a home studio in Cleveland, Ohio, specializing in sterling holloware, flatware, and jewelry. He also participated in numerous exhibitions since 1957.

Solve was a very unassuming, gracious, and soft spoken person. He was truly a gifted silversmith, preferring to hand carve blocks of sterling instead of casting, and hand raising in place of spinning. His work was so highly regarded that he continued to produce pieces for loyal patrons in Sweden. Though he rarely promoted himself and never participated in the craft circuit, he should be remembered as an American treasure.

SAS Supporting Member Callie Stacey, 3/23/2000: Solve worked for/with my father, the late Canadian silversmith, Harold Stacey (1911- 1979, in New York. They worked for Steuben Glass to design and make sterling prototypes for possible production and sale with their fine crystal.

Dad was recommended to Steuben, we think, by Margret Craver, as he had attended the Rhode Island School of Design Workshop Conference (sponsored by Handy & Harman) in 1949. He arrived in NY in the fall of 1950 and early in 1951, he interviewed and hired Solve. Originally, Alma Eikerman had been approached to be Dad's assistant, but she didn't want to leave her teaching job and suggested Solve instead.

Dad and Solve eventually made about 50 small pieces, some incorporating glass, that were mainly designed by the Steuben glass staff, but with plenty of input from Dad as to what glass designs could be successfully translated into silver. Apparently he and the Steuben people didn't always see eye to eye.

The first photo is of Solve with one of the candlesticks they made, in their studio in Carl Place, Long Island.

As you can see by the next pictures, Solve became a close friend of our family (myself, Callie and my brother, Bob). He visited often, and loved dancing with my mother Peggy and Dad's sister Joan. We went on many family drives into the country with him, including many times to Jone's Beach. We kids called him Uncle Solve, but I guess we couldn't pronounce his name correctly, so he in turn called himself "Foff," an umlaut over the "o."

The Steuben project eventually was shelved with the start of the Korean War and Dad returned to Toronto in the spring of 1950. The 50+ pieces they made went into storage and remained forgotten until I started my researches into Dad's work. After letters of inquiry to both Steuben in NY and to Corning, a carton was found in storage with 99% of the pieces intact! They were donated by Steuben to the Corning Museum of Glass, where I've been assured they are a permanent part of the collection (though not on view).

Solve moved to Cleveland and started his successful career there. He married Peggy late in 1952. I append a picture of her "bride crown" that he made for her. On the reverse of the photo he sent to us, he notes that "the oval stones are turquoises and the small ones garnets" and there were "pearls on the fine points." "It took me 91½ hours to make it."

In 1959, my father decided to move his studio from his basement in Willowdale, a suburb of Toronto, to an industrial area, and he asked Solve to come to Toronto to be partner in his business. They became "Stacey-Hallqvist: Silversmiths & Metalsmiths" and were together over a very busy 2 years, when Solve and Peggy returned to Cleveland. While in Toronto, Solve worked on many commissions with my father, but also managed to work on pieces of his own: particularly sterling jewellery and in the photo below, a tea pot for his mother.


Both Aunt Peggy and Uncle Solve have been very helpful and sympathetic in my researches into Harold Stacey's career. I miss him very much.

I'd be very happy to hear from anyone who knew my father. Callie Stacey, 122 Bowood Ave., Toronto, Ontario, M4N 1Y4, 416/487-3145, Fax: 416/487-3075, cstacey@netcom.ca.

 

Alma Eikerman
Bloomington, Indiana
Born in Pratt, Kansas
May 16,1909 - January 3,1995

SAS Artisan Susan Ewing in Winter 1994-1995 issue of American Silversmith: Alma Eikerman will be remembered for the many facets of her life: inspirational teacher, artist, designer, craftsperson, silversmith, jeweler, musician, bibliophile, scholar, researcher, patron, collector, traveler, student, mentor, friend...

Eikerman's accomplishments in support of the field of metal-smithing are legendary. And today her legacy continues in the work of her students, in whom she imbued her passion for living a creative life. Her teaching career at Indiana University in Bloomington spanned more than three decades and culmi-nated in the designation of Distinguished Professor in 1976. She was the first woman to receive the university's highest academic honor. During her extraordinary career, she influ-enced hundreds of students who came to Indiana from around the world to learn metalsmithing.

Moving from her native Kansas where she studied with painter Charles Martin, her adventurous spirit brought her to New York City in the late 1930s where she earned a master's degree from Columbia University. After spending 1944-1945 in Italy, serving as a volunteer in the Red Cross, Eikerman re-turned to Kansas to teach at Wichita State University. Shortly after taking a teaching position at Indiana University in 1947, she won a Handy and Harman Silversmithing Award for study at the Rhode Island School of Design under Baron Eric von Fleming of Sweden. This experience was the impetus for her to travel to Kolding, Denmark, to study with master silver-smith Karl Gustav Hansen in 1950, and then to Stockholm formore study with von Fleming. She quickly translated the tra-ditional Scandinavian silversmithing processes into a new technical vocabulary for experimental holloware forms in sil-ver and other metals.

Her creative work and teaching were firmly grounded in a broad knowledge of contemporary art and historical metal-working. Her scholarly and artistic interests took her around the world to study museum collections (she was especially in-trigued by Celtic art) and to work with master craftsmen and artists, from Zadkin in Paris to Pomodoro in Milan, and on to Russia, India, Iran, Japan, Korea, and Mexico. A tenacious stu-dent of the field, she extended this interest to all aspects of her daily life. The house which she designed and built as yet an-other sculptural object was lined with books, a scarlet carpet, and housed her life's collection of fine contemporary art and crafts.

Alma Eikerman will long be remembered for her contributions to the post-war crafts movement, as a mentor for numerous young women and men who subsequently became metal-smiths and teachers, and for her own experimental work with metal. Hers was a remarkable life, generously lived.

Robert R. Bower
Joliet, Illinois
Place of birth: unknown
August 3, 1902 - March 12, 1993

Summer 1992 issue of American Silversmith: Robert Bower is our oldest Artisan member at 89. Here he reminisces about his years at The Kalo Shop where he was employed for 49 years: In 1914, I lived across the street from the Doughty home in Joliet, Illinois. I cut their grass and hauled in hard coal for three stoves. Their daughter Ann graduated from Illinois University in graphic arts and was employed at The Kalo Shop in Chicago as a designer and goldsmith. After Miss Doughty worked a few years at the bench and in the store, Kalo founder Clara Barck Wells wanted someone to run the retail store so she could spend more time at the workshop and travel. Mr. Hines and Miss Doughty took the responsibility of running the store at 416 S. Michigan Ave.

Miss Doughty maintained a workbench at home where I took lessons in the winter making pins and belt buckles. On February 28th, 1921, MissDoughtyasked me to trymyskills atTheKaloShop. I started making napkin bands and baby cups under shopmaster Peter L. Berg. It was not easy communicating, as all the men were from the Scandanavian countries and conversed in their native tongue. In 1923, Miss Doughty moved to New York and opened a shop on 57th Street.

In 1925, a very good friend and I drove to Manhattan in a model "T" Ford roadster with HARD rubber tires. We stopped at Niagra Falls and Albany, New York before arriving on 57th St. in Manhattan to see Miss Doughty who showed us the city. On the way home we stopped in Washington, DC and took a plane ride over Arlington National Cemetery. Upon landing, I commented to the pilot on how noisy his plane was. He said: "yes I know, this was the last trip before repairs."

The owner of the Fine Arts Buildin doubled the rent of The Kalo Shop this year, just as Mrs. Wells finished remodeling a building at 152 E. Ontario Street where she lived. This was to be the new home of store and workshop.

Mrs. Wells did a lot of traveling to England, France, Spain and Italy to purchase ceramics, antique altar cloths, etc. to sell at the store. During our ten years on Ontario Street and with Mrs. Wells being away on buying trips, I received good experience running the business.

We had an arrangement with a sales organization to sell a wholesale line consisting of 40 items of all new Kalo sterling designs that were handwrought and of substantial weight. It was called the Norse line. All the samples were ready to go, then the market crashed in 1929. That was the end of the wholesale business.

On July lst, 1936, we were back on the avenue at 222 S. Michigan. Mrs. Wells moved to San Diego in 1939 and I ran the shop for the next 30 years.

When the decision was made to close the shop, we had many people who wanted to buy us out at half price plus a big discount, but I told them we had things under control. Without a notice in the paper or a sale sign in the window, we sold every item at full price in six months. The doors closed for good on July 31 st, 1970. Why did we close? We ran out of silversmiths. In the last year we lost our three top silversmiths; men who could not be replaced. It was difficult trying to find men willing to learn silversmithing and it took years to train them.

We still had three silversmiths including Walter Kichura who started with Kalo as an apprentice in 1936. That was not enough men to run the shop.

I was thankful that the Kalo Shop's closing was not a financial failure. We had good customers and good sales to the end, but no production.

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