Primitive Travel Log
#1 - "PREFACE" Glen Joffe
We invited two of our employees – Joe and Suzanne - to join us on a buying trip in December. The trip was tentatively scheduled to bring us to Nepal, India, Indonesia and China. Tibet made it in there unexpectedly before the four of us met up in India.
The following blogs were written by Suzanne. They capture the spirit of a buying trip, and hopefully some of the charm and allure behind PRIMITIVE.
And so I begin...
"OUR MUSE WONDERING WHAT THE TRIP WILL BRING"
#2 - "FIRST ASSIGNMENT" Suzanne Willey
January 2, 2009
This time of year, Delhi is enveloped with fog. It hangs in the air all day, and at night enters into the hotel lobby. Like Chicago, it's winter, but it's not a Chicago winter. The evenings are cool, not bitterly cold, and the four of us wear jackets.
I only arrived yesterday, New Year’s Day. Glen, Claudia, and Joe had begun the trip much earlier. Glen left for China. Claudia and Joe traveled to Kathmandu and Tibet. We all met up in Delhi and plan to stay here for a few more days.
Today, Joe and I received an assignment and we set out for Old Delhi. It was created before the British invaded and has remained untouched, growing organically through the centuries. Our destination within Old Delhi was an area called Chandi Chok.
"WINDING OUR WAY THROUGH OLD DELHI"
Old Delhi is the antithesis of everything Western, a jungle of narrow streets and piles of buildings. If you squint to narrow and blur your vision, it could be Venice on a cloudy evening; but it’s not. Our attempts to get directions were thwarted by a lack of language and street signs. My first day on the job and we were lost.
"LOST"
This time of year, Delhi is enveloped with fog. It hangs in the air all day, and at night enters into the hotel lobby. Like Chicago, it's winter, but it's not a Chicago winter. The evenings are cool, not bitterly cold, and the four of us wear jackets.
I only arrived yesterday, New Year’s Day. Glen, Claudia, and Joe had begun the trip much earlier. Glen left for China. Claudia and Joe traveled to Kathmandu and Tibet. We all met up in Delhi and plan to stay here for a few more days.
Today, Joe and I received an assignment and we set out for Old Delhi. It was created before the British invaded and has remained untouched, growing organically through the centuries. Our destination within Old Delhi was an area called Chandi Chok.
Old Delhi is the antithesis of everything Western, a jungle of narrow streets and piles of buildings. If you squint to narrow and blur your vision, it could be Venice on a cloudy evening; but it’s not. Our attempts to get directions were thwarted by a lack of language and street signs. My first day on the job and we were lost.
"LOST"
#3 - "GLEN JOFFE ON FINDING NICE THINGS"
January 3, 2009
"PLAQUE AMULETS"
“We’ll just have to look harder.”
We’re looking for a feel. Or, is it, we’re feeling for a feel? We are sorting through hundreds of silver plaque amulets in one of Delhi’s obscure markets. Claudia notes, “They’re not as good as they used to be.” Glen looks up and adds, “We’ll just have to look harder.” After a long time, we end up picking out 147 for further consideration.
Joe, now a Primitive sales associate, used to be Mr. Dudak’s restoration assistant. He has been temporarily re-routed to his original position and polishes the amulets with powder toothpaste so we can examine them more closely. Surrounded by ropes of coral and turquoise, gems begin to emerge.
With heads bowed we all mumble “Yes,”“No,” “This is nice,” “Do you like this? I don’t.” It is a religious exercise. We believe in this material and our selections reflect our deepest sentiments on beauty. I feel honored to be entrusted to such a task.
"PLAQUE AMULETS"
“We’ll just have to look harder.”
We’re looking for a feel. Or, is it, we’re feeling for a feel? We are sorting through hundreds of silver plaque amulets in one of Delhi’s obscure markets. Claudia notes, “They’re not as good as they used to be.” Glen looks up and adds, “We’ll just have to look harder.” After a long time, we end up picking out 147 for further consideration.
Joe, now a Primitive sales associate, used to be Mr. Dudak’s restoration assistant. He has been temporarily re-routed to his original position and polishes the amulets with powder toothpaste so we can examine them more closely. Surrounded by ropes of coral and turquoise, gems begin to emerge.
#4 - "THE QUESTION" by Suzanne Willey
January 3, 2009 Afternoon
"SERIOUSLY HEAVY BLING"
Later, in Old Delhi I am wearing diamonds so big and heavy I announce, “I need to go to the gym so I can lift my ring.” Claudia laughs and says, “That’s going in the blog.” Over lunch (chicken masala, dosas, and rice) we see bag after bag of diamonds. Without warning the power goes out and Glen, smiling, rhetorically asks, “Who would think this is possible?” I understand. Here in Old Delhi, two worlds converge. Outside of the cramped, gem flooded room where we’ve become holed up; a buzzing world is going about its daily business.
Here, rich and poor walk the same streets. It’s possible to gaze upon intense poverty and unimaginable wealth in the same instant. My eyes see what my head still fails to comprehend.
"WHAT'S HAUNTING YOU?"
At night, I am exhausted. Only Glen has the energy to go outside the hotel for dinner. When we retire to our rooms, it’s late. Before closing my eyes I attempt to reinvent the day’s happenings. I ask myself, “What was unforgettable?” I’ve learned to ask the question from Glen. Sometimes at dinner or during long car rides he’ll ask, “What’s haunting you?” So far, this question remains unanswered.
Later, in Old Delhi I am wearing diamonds so big and heavy I announce, “I need to go to the gym so I can lift my ring.” Claudia laughs and says, “That’s going in the blog.” Over lunch (chicken masala, dosas, and rice) we see bag after bag of diamonds. Without warning the power goes out and Glen, smiling, rhetorically asks, “Who would think this is possible?” I understand. Here in Old Delhi, two worlds converge. Outside of the cramped, gem flooded room where we’ve become holed up; a buzzing world is going about its daily business.
"WHAT'S HAUNTING YOU?"
At night, I am exhausted. Only Glen has the energy to go outside the hotel for dinner. When we retire to our rooms, it’s late. Before closing my eyes I attempt to reinvent the day’s happenings. I ask myself, “What was unforgettable?” I’ve learned to ask the question from Glen. Sometimes at dinner or during long car rides he’ll ask, “What’s haunting you?” So far, this question remains unanswered.
#5 - "LEAVING DELHI" - Suzanne Willey & Joe Rudy search for Pichvais
January 4, 2009
I swear we spend close to half our energy making travel arrangements. Today, the team has been divided. Glen and Claudia left early this morning for the Himalayas in northern India to investigate the possibility of a Primitive bottled water brand. Joe and I remained in Delhi for a leisurely breakfast. Afterwards, we flew to Rajasthan, one of India’s most colorful states, hot on the trail of a collection of paintings called Pichvais.
"THAR DESERT: SUN, SAND AND NO SURF"
Rajasthan is home to the Thar Desert. It’s dry and warm, vastly different than Delhi. During the taxi ride to the hotel, we rolled down the windows to let the wind kiss our cheeks. It was a far cry from the crowded corridors of Old Delhi. Despite the litter, I kept thinking it’s beautiful here.
"I THINK IT'S BEAUTIFUL HERE"
I swear we spend close to half our energy making travel arrangements. Today, the team has been divided. Glen and Claudia left early this morning for the Himalayas in northern India to investigate the possibility of a Primitive bottled water brand. Joe and I remained in Delhi for a leisurely breakfast. Afterwards, we flew to Rajasthan, one of India’s most colorful states, hot on the trail of a collection of paintings called Pichvais.
"THAR DESERT: SUN, SAND AND NO SURF"
#6 - "KNOWING WHERE NOT TO LOOK" - Claudia Morgan reveals secret
I’ve learned things rarely go as planned, especially on buying trips. Joe and I searched for Pichvais all day and returned to our hotel with nothing. We went where we were directed and came up empty-handed. The only thing that remains conclusive is we are in the wrong place.
"KNOWING WHERE NOT TO LOOK"
Claudia reassured me over the phone that this sort of certainty is not without value. “Now, we know where not to look,” she said. I agree; however, the heroic, romantic part of me wanted to report to her triumphantly.
Scouting is an art that contains more than just a good deal of luck. One has to be brave, confident, relentless, and perhaps stubborn at times. I believe the necessary attributes are not inborn; they are practiced until they become natural. I must still be in the conditioning phase. I hope my turn comes soon.
"SUZANNE SURVEYING HANDMADE COPPER VESSEL"
#7 - "FOR 500 RUPEES: WHAT IS AUTHENTIC?" - Glen Joffe answers, "It matters."
January 6, 2009; Udaipur, India
Sitting at a vendor’s in Udaipur, I started my personal collection. Among shelves of knives, I spotted a pair of brass tweezers with a peacock on top. It was used to pull wicks from oil lamps so one could avoid getting their hands dirty. I was led to believe it was a tool used and made for royal ladies. While Joe chatted at length with the owner about Damascus steel, I continued to peruse the shelves. I encountered a lidded spoon that was intended to hold charcoal for eye makeup. The lid had a quarter sized mirror attached to the reverse side. I slid the top open and mimicked the way I thought an Indian queen would apply charcoal to her eyelids. Some objects have a way of making it natural to play pretend with the past. When I was about to purchase my find, I asked the vendor if this particular pair of tweezers was actually used by royalty. He scoffed, “Of course not. This was used by someone else. ” My heart sank. I still bought it, but not with the same enthusiasm with which I had found it. Something, something I still can’t define even after reflection, was lost when he told me that. The beginning of my collection was now marred because this piece was not touched by royal hands and did not reside in a royal household. But did this make it an imposter piece?
"AUTHENTIC TAG"
I see now the purpose of Primitive’s “authentic” tags. If you go to the store, you can’t miss them. They are attached to items that have been certified authentic. They do not ensure the use of something by a particular someone. Instead, they give certainty that the piece was not merely created to be sold. The tags state that the object was used or created with the intention to be used by the indigenous people. The majority of the tags have been put on by me. When I started doing the inventory, Glen insisted I do this. I couldn’t really understand why, but I did it because Glen’s the boss. What role did use have in determining authenticity? What does something need to lack to be considered fake? What do those words mean anyway?
"HEY WANT TO BUY A ROLEX?"
I don’t intend to answer my questions, but I do know now it does matter. Something changed in me when I discovered my tweezers had not touched an Indian queen’s hand. But was I any worse for the realization? The piece still looked the same. It was still old. It was still created for the same purpose. In fact, the only thing that had changed was my perception of the owner, but owned it still was. Did the fact it had not pulled wicks in a royal household make it any less meaningful to the person who used it, even if she was not a queen? Was it any less beautiful?
"AN AUTHENTIC CROWN"
"AN AUTHENTIC BELT"
There is a quality to the objects at Primitive that speak to this. They do allow someone to play pretend with the past. Their existence documents the passing of time. In handling one, a person touches history. In owning one, a person owns a part of history. Acquiring such an object allows one to associate them self more firmly with that past, and more so, to carry it into the future. Authenticity and ownership are linked; but today I am unsure how to untie the two.
Sitting at a vendor’s in Udaipur, I started my personal collection. Among shelves of knives, I spotted a pair of brass tweezers with a peacock on top. It was used to pull wicks from oil lamps so one could avoid getting their hands dirty. I was led to believe it was a tool used and made for royal ladies. While Joe chatted at length with the owner about Damascus steel, I continued to peruse the shelves. I encountered a lidded spoon that was intended to hold charcoal for eye makeup. The lid had a quarter sized mirror attached to the reverse side. I slid the top open and mimicked the way I thought an Indian queen would apply charcoal to her eyelids. Some objects have a way of making it natural to play pretend with the past. When I was about to purchase my find, I asked the vendor if this particular pair of tweezers was actually used by royalty. He scoffed, “Of course not. This was used by someone else. ” My heart sank. I still bought it, but not with the same enthusiasm with which I had found it. Something, something I still can’t define even after reflection, was lost when he told me that. The beginning of my collection was now marred because this piece was not touched by royal hands and did not reside in a royal household. But did this make it an imposter piece?
"AUTHENTIC TAG"
I see now the purpose of Primitive’s “authentic” tags. If you go to the store, you can’t miss them. They are attached to items that have been certified authentic. They do not ensure the use of something by a particular someone. Instead, they give certainty that the piece was not merely created to be sold. The tags state that the object was used or created with the intention to be used by the indigenous people. The majority of the tags have been put on by me. When I started doing the inventory, Glen insisted I do this. I couldn’t really understand why, but I did it because Glen’s the boss. What role did use have in determining authenticity? What does something need to lack to be considered fake? What do those words mean anyway?
"HEY WANT TO BUY A ROLEX?"
I don’t intend to answer my questions, but I do know now it does matter. Something changed in me when I discovered my tweezers had not touched an Indian queen’s hand. But was I any worse for the realization? The piece still looked the same. It was still old. It was still created for the same purpose. In fact, the only thing that had changed was my perception of the owner, but owned it still was. Did the fact it had not pulled wicks in a royal household make it any less meaningful to the person who used it, even if she was not a queen? Was it any less beautiful?
"AN AUTHENTIC CROWN"
"AN AUTHENTIC BELT"
There is a quality to the objects at Primitive that speak to this. They do allow someone to play pretend with the past. Their existence documents the passing of time. In handling one, a person touches history. In owning one, a person owns a part of history. Acquiring such an object allows one to associate them self more firmly with that past, and more so, to carry it into the future. Authenticity and ownership are linked; but today I am unsure how to untie the two.
#8 - "ONE SENSIBILITY VERSUS ANOTHER"
January 7, 2009
"A MAKRANA STONE CARVER"
Today we are exploring carving made from Makrana stone. This is marble which comes from the quarries in Makrana, India. Claudia pointedly notes a difference between Indians and Americans. Because most Americans have not been exposed to this beautiful, pure white marble, they generally don’t understand its rarity and value.
"JOE DELIVERING MAKRANA STONE SLABS"
Makrana marble has three quality levels. The highest grade is pure white and the lowest has dark veins and spots which run through it. The middle is somewhere in between. While many Indians focus on the quality differences in the marble itself, Americans seem to be more concerned with the carving— for example, the fineness of a face or the accuracy of hands.
"MAKRANA STONE"
Generally, I don’t see the beauty in the pure white stone either. I was taught by my mother that flaws are what make things unique and beautiful. Flaws make character. Perhaps Claudia’s theory is right. I am an American. However, if I had to choose between a great carving in pure white Makrana versus the same carving in second or third grade, I’d be at the pure white.
"MAKRANA STONERS"
#9 - "LATE NIGHT STEREOTYPES"
January 8, 2009; Delhi, India (late night blog)
There is a trick to eating alone. Tonight, I learned fast. One must appear confident and more than comfortable. One must be at home. No one tells you that buying trips, along with heavy (i.e., weighing a lot), can also be lonely.
It wasn’t until Sandeep, Glen, and Claudia called me from Jaipur. It has to be confessed, there is something inexplicably lonely about dining alone, especially dinner. Then everyone knows that you’re going back to an empty hotel room. However, I have one saving grace: my age. I’m twenty-one, but can pass easily for eighteen and get mistaken for it constantly. So tonight, instead of invoking sympathy or pity, I merely collected curious sideways glances. That’s fine by me. Buying trips insist that one have a thick skin—for the eyes in restaurants and also for people staring because you look different. Glen and Claudia explained to me, “You’re young, you’re a girl, and you’re a westerner.” It makes sense. Here, I stand out.
"SUZANNE ATTEMPTING NOT TO STAND OUT"
Being a westerner is an isolating factor here. It tends to make new vendors pad their prices and old ones occasionally try to pull a fast one. Glen and Claudia must bargain twice as hard to reach reasonable amounts. Oftentimes, to vendors and the assorted gawkers we seem to attract, where we come from acts as a symbol of our ignorance. Yesterday, when we were buying statues at the carving studios in Jaipur, Claudia, talking about Glen, told a bunch of young vendors, “He won’t accept these prices. He’s like an Indian.” They laughed. They know the stereotype, not only of the naïve westerner, but also of the stubborn, stingy Indian. Sure enough, Glen didn’t accept the prices. He walked away when they wouldn’t budge. Too bad for them, we wound up buying 33 from someone else.
"GLEN WASN'T THE ONLY THING THAT WOULDN'T BUDGE"
There is a trick to eating alone. Tonight, I learned fast. One must appear confident and more than comfortable. One must be at home. No one tells you that buying trips, along with heavy (i.e., weighing a lot), can also be lonely.
It wasn’t until Sandeep, Glen, and Claudia called me from Jaipur. It has to be confessed, there is something inexplicably lonely about dining alone, especially dinner. Then everyone knows that you’re going back to an empty hotel room. However, I have one saving grace: my age. I’m twenty-one, but can pass easily for eighteen and get mistaken for it constantly. So tonight, instead of invoking sympathy or pity, I merely collected curious sideways glances. That’s fine by me. Buying trips insist that one have a thick skin—for the eyes in restaurants and also for people staring because you look different. Glen and Claudia explained to me, “You’re young, you’re a girl, and you’re a westerner.” It makes sense. Here, I stand out.
"SUZANNE ATTEMPTING NOT TO STAND OUT"
Being a westerner is an isolating factor here. It tends to make new vendors pad their prices and old ones occasionally try to pull a fast one. Glen and Claudia must bargain twice as hard to reach reasonable amounts. Oftentimes, to vendors and the assorted gawkers we seem to attract, where we come from acts as a symbol of our ignorance. Yesterday, when we were buying statues at the carving studios in Jaipur, Claudia, talking about Glen, told a bunch of young vendors, “He won’t accept these prices. He’s like an Indian.” They laughed. They know the stereotype, not only of the naïve westerner, but also of the stubborn, stingy Indian. Sure enough, Glen didn’t accept the prices. He walked away when they wouldn’t budge. Too bad for them, we wound up buying 33 from someone else.
#10 - "THE JOURNEY"
January 8, 2009
Joe left to go back to Chicago at 2:00 AM. Right now, he’s probably flying over Europe heading towards Zurich, his layover. Now, without him our biggest problem is: Who will carry the camera? Claudia’s newest Canon gadget weighs about what a three-year-old should. It starts to feel like one too. It constantly needs attention. “Where’s the camera?” “Does it have its lens?” “Has it been downloaded?” “What’s its battery life?” It is the biggest burden Joe donned on the trip and arguably the most important.
When I tell people about my buying trip adventures with Primitive everyone automatically blurts out the same response, “Oh my god! You are so lucky!” And I reply with, “Yes, I am. I know.” But I do believe few people understand the weight of a trip. Not just of the camera or of our bags, but the mental weight too. Yesterday, when we were in Jaipur buying statues, a gang of kids surrounded us and voluntarily became our entourage. They performed for us wanting only high-fives and pictures of themselves in return. They delighted at the sight of their own image reflected back at them. That moment was great. It might emerge at the end of the trip as one of the highlights.
"YOUNGER KIDS"
Afterward I thought about those kids. I’m not sure where they went, but their image will forever be fixed in my head and locked into digital film. And that night, in my hotel room, I reflected on the human side of the story told by the objects presented at Primitive. It is not always evident. Typically, it is left to the viewer’s imagination, but it is there nonetheless if one chooses to imagine. Like a digital record, each and every object tells its story in an endless series of impressions, yet all say the same thing. They have been on a journey. In fact, they continue to be, and so do I.
"MORE KIDS"
Joe left to go back to Chicago at 2:00 AM. Right now, he’s probably flying over Europe heading towards Zurich, his layover. Now, without him our biggest problem is: Who will carry the camera? Claudia’s newest Canon gadget weighs about what a three-year-old should. It starts to feel like one too. It constantly needs attention. “Where’s the camera?” “Does it have its lens?” “Has it been downloaded?” “What’s its battery life?” It is the biggest burden Joe donned on the trip and arguably the most important.
When I tell people about my buying trip adventures with Primitive everyone automatically blurts out the same response, “Oh my god! You are so lucky!” And I reply with, “Yes, I am. I know.” But I do believe few people understand the weight of a trip. Not just of the camera or of our bags, but the mental weight too. Yesterday, when we were in Jaipur buying statues, a gang of kids surrounded us and voluntarily became our entourage. They performed for us wanting only high-fives and pictures of themselves in return. They delighted at the sight of their own image reflected back at them. That moment was great. It might emerge at the end of the trip as one of the highlights.
