The Adaptable Educator’s Book Review – Craft Perception and Practice: A Canadian Discourse, Vol. 1, edited by Paula Gustafson

Paula Gustafson’s Craft Perception and Practice: A Canadian Discourse, Vol. 1 is an ambitious, multifaceted exploration that positions Canadian craft not merely as an artisanal pursuit but as a site of critical inquiry and cultural negotiation. Gustafson—long known for her incisive editorial work in Artichoke magazine—assembles a slate of voices that interrogate craft’s epistemological foundations, its links to identity and place, and its fraught relationship with both colonial legacies and contemporary globalization. This first volume serves as a sort of manifesto and archive, inviting readers to reconsider the very terms by which craft is understood within a national context.

From the outset, Gustafson refuses a monolithic narrative. Instead, volume 1 unfolds as a series of contrapuntal essays and artist statements, each staking out a distinct position. Early contributions address craft’s historiography in Canada, tracing how institutions—museums, craft councils, academic programs—have alternately celebrated and marginalized certain media. These essays remind us that what passes for “folk” or “fine” craft often hinges on shifting curatorial concerns: from the late-century surge in Indigenous pottery to the more recent embrace of textiles as high art. In doing so, the editors and writers underline that craft cannot be disentangled from power relations—be they colonial or commercial. Such self-awareness is crucial; it aligns the volume with a growing international scholarship that treats craft as a contested field rather than a nostalgic revival of tradition.

A standout chapter foregrounds Indigenous approaches to material, calling attention to how beadwork, basketry, and regalia articulate complex epistemologies that predate—and in many ways resist—the very categories of “craft” imposed by settler institutions. These essays do more than describe technique: they insist that material knowledge is enmeshed with land-based cosmologies. By juxtaposing these voices with essays by settler practitioners (for instance, a studio jeweler grappling with appropriation or a woodworker reflecting on sustainable arboriculture), the volume deliberately cultivates a tension that refuses easy reconciliation. In this dialogic friction, the reader realizes that Canadian craft is not a unified tradition but a constellation of often conflicting worldviews.

Another thread weaves through the volume’s middle section, examining how craft practices intersect with issues of gender and domesticity. Several writers draw on feminist theory—recalling the 1970s “Craft as Women’s Work” critiques—while updating them for a twenty‐first‐century context in which makers navigate online marketplaces, DIY subcultures, and social‐media‐driven aesthetics. A particularly compelling essay by a basket artist describes how “home‐economics” skill sets, once dismissed as trivial, have been reclaimed as radical acts of resilience, especially in rural or Indigenous communities. The subtext here is clear: craft is not merely decorative or utilitarian, but inseparable from everyday strategies for survival and self‐determination.

Throughout, Gustafson’s editorial framing reminds us that perception and practice are two sides of the same coin: how craft is seen shapes what is made, and vice versa. Thus, contributors ruminate on the role of curators, critics, and social media influencers in defining trends—whether it be the resurgence of enamelwork or the fetishization of artisanal maple‐syrup vessels. A curator’s catalogue essay on contemporary ceramics is paired with a potter’s first‐person reflection on the tactility of clay in winter, emphasizing that discourse must remain grounded in embodied experience. By refusing to privilege academic theory over lived practice (or the reverse), Craft Perception and Practice insists that neither can stand alone.

Stylistically, the volume’s layout mirrors its thematic ambitions. Brief interludes of poetry, photographic essays, and visual-artifact spreads punctuate denser theoretical chapters. This alternation between image and text creates a pacing that echoes the rhythms of making—workshop noise, quiet contemplation, sudden moments of discovery. One essay even adapts a call-and-response format, featuring questions from emerging craft students paired with replies from established practitioners; this section underscores the generative potential of intergenerational dialogue, highlighting how academic programs both enable and constrain a new wave of Canadian makers.

Where the volume truly excels is in its refusal to offer tidy conclusions. Rather than presenting a definitive “state of Canadian craft,” Gustafson curates a provisional, open-ended discourse. Essays conclude with provocations—postulates about the next wave of bio-resins or the ethics of repatriating settler-collected textiles—rather than with summary judgments. The result is a text that resembles a symposium frozen on the page, inviting readers to participate rather than merely absorb. In that sense, the book becomes as much a call to action as a historical record: if craft is to maintain relevance in a digital, postcolonial, and climate-churning world, it must continuously question its own assumptions.

For a literary scholar accustomed to analyzing narrative arcs and authorial voice, Craft Perception and Practice offers a different delight: the polyphonic layering of multiple, sometimes discordant, perspectives that, in aggregate, map the contours of a field in motion. Gustafson’s skill lies not in imposing unity but in curating productive dissonance. In doing so, she not only archives a moment in Canadian craft but also underscores its vitality as an arena where questions of identity, materiality, and ethics remain urgent. This volume stands as an essential reference for anyone—writer, scholar, or maker—interested in how craft both shapes and is shaped by the cultural and political realities of Canada today.