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            Web Exclusives: 
              Under the Ivy 
              a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu 
             
            January 
              23, 2005: 
             Arts 
              and crafts 
              Working at a loom, eight hours a 
              day  
             Nothing says the 1970s quite like a loom.
              The cover story of the October 26, 1971, PAW, called “Princeton 
              Gothic,” profiled four Princeton students who, in the words 
              of editor Landon Jones ’66, symbolized the “new romanticism” 
              on campus. “It is not the familiar romantic radicalism, which 
              disappeared sometime in the summer of 1970, but rather is a romantic 
              agrarianism,” Jones wrote. “This new faith holds that 
              our salvation lies in the soil. The noble savage is back.”
              The noble savages in this instance, however, were not working 
              the land in loincloths, but exploring old-fashioned arts and crafts. 
              Michael Rodemeyer ’72, who was majoring in sociology, interviewed 
              the four to find out what drew them to the unusual arts they were 
              pursuing: stained-glass, weaving, ceramics, and woodcarving. The 
              results, Jones noted, suggested several answers. “One is that 
              the crafts provide a refuge from the oppressive intellectualism 
              at Princeton. Another is that the crafts offer a means of striking 
              back at a machine-tooled, consumer society. A third is that the 
              crafts give students the feeling of actually accomplishing something 
              instead of being passive receptacles of knowledge.”
              Emily Bonacarti ’73, the weaver of the group, had a few 
              more reasons for pursuing her interest in textiles—which she 
              pursued all the way to Sweden, in fact, working at her loom eight 
              hours a day for a month during one summer vacation. Bonacarti noted 
              that creating woven cloths also entwined her with centuries of traditions 
              and different cultures. “I’ve seen beautiful tapestries 
              that little kids in Egypt made,” she said, adding, “Each 
              country [in Europe] has certain traditional elements that are carried 
              through in their weaving. It made me want to come back and go out 
              West to study the Indians and learn how they weave.” Indeed, 
              the writer compared her to a “frontier woman” – 
              though looking at her picture today, one can’t help but think 
              of a proto-Carrie Bradshaw from HBO’s Sex in the City, 
              big dark eyes gazing soulfully out from under long curly tresses 
              parted in the middle, garbed in an embroidered peasant blouse draped 
              over blue jeans, hands resting on the wooden crosspiece of a loom. 
              Another linkage Bonacarti found was across age lines. “If 
              you join the weaver’s guild, for example, you’ll find 
              that half the people in it are 95 years old,” she said. “The 
              woman I stayed with in Sweden was 70, and it was very nice that 
              we had all these things to share.”
              But Bonacarti’s final reason for weaving was one to gladden 
              the hearts of the mothers through the generations who encouraged 
              their children to learn typing. “If a Princeton education 
              doesn’t get you that high-paying job of your choice,” 
              she said, “it’s nice to have something you enjoy doing 
              to fall back on.”   
             Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can 
              reach her at paw@princeton.edu 
              
              
              
            
             
               
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