“This is magic,” Larry Kolton says as he lifts a tiny wood sculpture from a display case in his kitchen and holds it gingerly in his palm. “This is a Dayak tun-tun from New Guinea, just a wooden stake to warn passersby that a boar trap lay hidden below ground.” Its finial features an exquisite carving of a human face, complete with eyelashes, brows, lips, teeth, and an intricate necklace. “The Dayak tribe didn’t have TV; their most utilitarian possessions became art,” Kolton says. “Carving is a deeply religious experience for them. In our culture we’d just buy an orange plastic stake from Home Depot.”
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There’s a brisk world market for tribal art, built around commercial galleries and auction houses, but one of the most amazing things about Kolton’s inventory is that he bought the bulk of it directly from indigenous people, at or near the place of origin. The big, burly, bearded 66-year-old is one of only a handful of Westerners who venture into urban slums and remote villages, some accessible only by river, to procure genuine artifacts. He’s made dozens of trips, each typically six weeks long, to the hinterlands of Africa, New Guinea, Australia, Panama, Mexico, and China. “Buying directly from tribal people puts you in touch with their culture,” he says. “For me it’s the difference between going to a ball game and watching it on TV.”
By the mid-70s Lincoln Park had grown too gentrified for Kolton. “The neighbors didn’t like seeing my pick-up truck on the street, and I was tired of hauling uninteresting furniture,” he says. “So I sold the shop and moved to the Dunes.” He took a job with Czarnowski Exhibits, designing and installing trade show exhibits nationwide, which paid him enough to finance his first trip to Africa. He chose Abidjan, the commercial capital of Ivory Coast, as his destination. At the time the city attracted people from all over the continent seeking work, and they often brought familial artifacts. A market flourished in Treichville, the city’s immigrant shantytown. Kolton hired a driver to take him there, and as they neared the market, three men jumped on the car. “No one knows you’re there,” he says. “There’s no police in a place like that. I figured it was all over.” But after much shouting and gesticulating, it turned out the men were money changers wanting to help him exchange dollars.
Kolton says indigenous people sell artifacts for many reasons: A farmer or construction worker excavating land might upturn old metal sculptures. A piece may lose significance, like a ghost-dance costume discarded after the ceremony and left in the forest to rot. A carving might be rejected by a shaman. Alan Leder, director of the Evanston Art Center, which has included Kolton in its current exhibit, “Hunt & Gather,” dismisses the notion that collectors like Kolton are robbing people of their cultural treasures. “It’s a misperception that tribal cultures are naive,” he says. “For generations they’ve traded with the West. They know what’s important to them. When an object doesn’t meet their spiritual needs, they have no trouble selling it.”
When: Through 9/10: Tue 10 AM-8 PM, Wed-Sun 10 AM-5 PM
When: Through 5/13: Mon-Thu 10 AM-10 PM, Fri-Sat 10 AM-4 PM, Sun 1-4 PM
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photos/Jon Randolph.
