In light of Father’s Day’s rapid approach, I thought it might be fitting today to look at one of Wings’s award-winning pieces in a style that has long appealed to many of our male clients. Regular readers have actually seen this piece before, in a post I wrote here last year introducing folks to one of the everyday artifacts of our peoples’ past and present: Native flasks.
Then, we looked at the very origin of the word flask, and how it informs contemporary understandings of the item and its purpose[s] — and also how it goes astray when applied to indigenous cultures. Sadly, negative dominant-culture associations have filtered into our own languages now; in my own, the word for flask now shares the same root as words for secret and sneak and even thief. Such is the legacy of colonialism, of forced cultural pseudomorphism. As I said at the time:
Flasks, of course, have developed a dominant-culture association with alcohol use, an association that is not welcome in much of Indian Country, and for good reason. But for us, their use is far broader — and more culturally significant — than merely providing an ability to sneak shots on the sly.
According to Webster’s, the word “flask” dates back to the late Middle English period between 1375 and 1425 C.E., rooted in a word meaning “cask” or “keg,” and with variants found in the Late Latin, Old High German, Old French, and Old English that have similar meanings. Its modern meaning, that of a bottle with a narrow neck, is defined first in its association with science: i.e., laboratory flasks or beakers. The connotation with alcohol comes second, with shipping and metallurgical associations third and fourth, respectively. A secondary set of definitions involves firearms, cannon, and ordnance.
But regardless of the name they’re given, flasks appear throughout history in cultures the world over. Why? Because they’re one of those items that humanity has adapted to meet a truly universal need: Water. The human body needs water, and frequently, a means to make that water easily portable (yes, “portable” with an “r,” although it must be potable, too). Before the advent of the wheel, it was especially important, particularly for people in regions where access to fresh water sources might be few and far between — when “travel” consists of walking from place to place, the ability to carry fresh water with you is a matter of survival.
Even in the wetter regions of Indian Country, lands like my own where fresh water is (or used to be) abundant and readily available, our peoples have collectively always understood the need for water that is simultaneously potable and portable. The former often requires treatment; the latter requires a reliable means of toting it.
Traditional flasks come in a wide range of what might be called “personal” sizes: small enough for an individual to carry by hand, hang from a saddlehorn, stow in a pocket, or hang from a thong or beltloop. Those used for water tend to be larger — and, of course, far heavier when filled — and so are not generally of a size to be worn one one’s person. Those that are? They tend to have a wholly different purpose. As I wrote last year:
But flasks were used traditionally for another purpose, too, one that has nothing to do with liquids. I’m speaking of tobacco flasks. Wings has made a few of these over the years — miniature sterling silver flasks, hand-stamped with traditional symbols and sometimes accented with a piece of turquoise on the cap, hung from a chain or a leather thong so that it can be attached to a belt loop or sash. They’re used to carry loose tobacco, something that is common among indigenous peoples all over Indian Country. It’s used as an honorific or token of respect to an elder, a leader, a stranger; as an offering before asking a favor, whether of a medicine person or of the spirits; as a token of appreciation and thanksgiving when a favor has been done you or a request granted. It’s used in smoking in traditional pipes, and pinches are offered to the spirits in a multitude of ways for a multitude of purposes.
In other words, they’re used for medicine.
Note the tense: Are. Because this is very much a contemporary practice, as well as a historical one.
Tobacco (now often modern nicotine-based tobacco from cigarettes, but traditionally a medicinal herb or mix of herbs) plays a significant role in our peoples’ daily lives and practices, both individually and now on an intertribal basis. In many of our cultures, it’s used to offer thanks to the Creator and to other spirits, as an offering when making a request, or as a token of respect to an elder or medicine person when seeking something (even if the “something” is as simple as conversation or a verbal exchange of information). It is medicine, a token and tool of healing, and the substance itself is treated with honor and respect. Some people still use the old method for carrying tobacco — a small medicine pouch or bag made of hide — but others prefer the security of flasks that can be capped and closed.
Wings has made a number of such flasks over the years; the one shown here today, made some six years ago, was one of the largest and most elaborate. It turned out to be an award-winning piece, although it took a while for it to find its permanent home. Every winter, the Millicent Rogers Museum hosts a juried miniatures exhibition, and in early 2010, he was invited to enter a piece in it. This was the one he chose, and it won best in show for its category. The person for whom it was evidently intended bought it a couple of years later.
Its name was From the Sky Spirits, a reference to the celestial symbols encircling both sides of the concave vessel. He deliberately chose patterns that would invoke themes of guidance, of healing, of medicine, of power, and it showed in the result: concentric circles formed by rising suns, inverted elsewhere to evoke crescent moons, all dancing around a central Morning Star; bear paws, traditional symbols of medicine, creating a circle of tracks near the outer edge; matched thunderhead patterns encircling the cap and the neck underneath. The entire piece was edged with twisted silver, topped with an old natural cabochon of green turquoise, and suspended from a white deerhide thong — large and solid enough to hold a substantial supply of tobacco, yet lightweight enough to hang from a button or beltloop.
Since that time, he’s created several other versions, sometimes of similar size, sometimes smaller yet, sometimes turned into a piece of jewelry. In one memorable instance, he made one explicitly as an instrument of healing: It was a gift for an acquaintance who suffered a terrible loss when her spouse walked on very suddenly; his survivors chose cremation, and the flask was designed to hold the ashes.
It’s been a while — more than a year, in fact — since he’s made one. Last year’s flask was also a gift for someone, but a gift of a very different sort: one of thanks, and a token of respect. However, in a matter of days, a new one will be forthcoming. I’ve seen it take shape, and it’s going to be beautiful.
It’ll be another masterwork, and another inspired and inspirited means of holding medicine.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
