Burbank Among the Indians. By E. A. Burbank as told to Ernest Royce. Edited by Frank J. Taylor. Foreword by Charles F. Lummis. (Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers, Ltd., 1944. 232 pp. 56 plates. $5.00.)

When Charles F. Lummis reproduced nine of Elbridge Ayer Bur-bank's paintings in The Land of Sunshine (vol. 12 [1900], pp. 332-44) he commented most favorably upon the quality of the painter's work, stressing his ability as an artist and his insistence upon accuracy of ethnographic detail. He remarked further that inasmuch as Burbank was still a young man we had a right to expect many additional contributions to the field of Indian portraiture, and that, incidentally, "one could make a very interesting story of Burbank's experiences and impressions in this career of painting Indians." It is to be regretted that only that latter comment has seen fulfillment.

Well trained in art and with a successful internship in drawing American Negro types, Burbank turned his attention to the American Indian at the suggestion of his uncle, Edward E. Ayer, who was at that time actively engaged in furthering research among the American Indians both through the Field Columbian Museum and the Newberry Library. Between 1897 and 1899 Burbank painted over a hundred Indian portraits. Included in his canvases were representatives of most of the outstanding Plains and Southwestern tribes. The present volume is an interesting and delightful story of Burbank's experiences during those few brief years. Thirty-two of his portraits are reproduced, one of them in color. Many of these had been previously published in color in portfolio form. With all due respect to the printers, who have been laboring under wartime restrictions, it must be said in defense of Burbank's work that present black-and-white reproductions do not do justice to the line of the originals, and perforce much of their interest and value is lost with the color.

About 1900 Burbank began working in crayon, with excellent results (The Craftsman, vol. 7 [1905], 4 plates, facing pp. 280, 328). Although several sketches made after 1900 are reproduced in the present volume, there is little among them of artistic or ethnographic merit. It is to be regretted that Burbank's contributions to the field of Indian portraiture ceased as abruptly as they apparently did. In his text Burbank implies that all picturesque Indians are now dead and consequently there is no longer any opportunity for his talents. That this is manifestly not true has been shown by the work of such men as E. B. Comins. Human character does not disappear from a race when it becomes Europeanized in culture. Lack of exotic costume does not render an individual characterless, as Bur-bank's own work distinctly shows.

Ethnologists will stumble over some unusual spellings in the text: San Iltel Fonso (p. 57), Hotemvilla (p. 64). A few minor errors have crept into the manuscript. "The Hopis . . . in eastern Arizona and New Mexico" (p. 63); and the Hopi women "were the cooks, the pottery and basket makers and the rug weavers" (p. 67), though elsewhere Hopi men weavers are contrasted with Navajo women weavers (p. 55). Scattered through the book are many minor details of ethnographic value, and this writer, at least, will find use for the account of the Baptist missionary activity in the Hopi country which is included in the appendix. Where possible, ethnologists will do well to check the earlier color prints.

As it stands, the book is another nice, easily read, reasonably accurate, well-illustrated book about the American Indians. Like all other such books it deserves a good sale, a place on the shelves of all the leading libraries, and a nice pat on the back for its several authors. It is regrettable that it could not have been published twenty or thirty years earlier.

This book poses a question which is worthy of further discussion. Obviously, from the artistic standpoint, art is not to be judged on the exotic quality of its subject matter. There is no reason why a portrait of a Sioux or a Hottentot cannot express as much of basic human and artistic value as one of Hitler or Mrs. John Jacob Astor. Similarly, the ethnographic value of a painting is derived not from its artistic merits, but from the accuracy with which the artist has reproduced the details of the subject's costume. Catlin might have produced an equally valuable work, ethnographically, with a modern camera and color film, had those tools been available in his day.

Artistic productions must be viewed for what they are. One does not define the physical type of the ancient Greeks by applying calipers to the surviving statues of the period. It is obvious that no matter how "objective," "sensitive," or "conscientious" the artist may be, the resulting portrait is a statement of what he saw, seen in terms of such experiences as he brought to the sitting and expressed in the techniques and conventions of his time and culture. Now it is precisely this kind of error which the anthropologist attempts to circumvent. He discards the "piercing" gleam in the subject's eye for observations on the epicanthic fold. But is the "impressionistic" analysis of the artist of no anthropological value? The answer to this is necessarily based upon what we consider to be the values and aims of anthropology. If, as this writer believes, the ultimate aim of anthropology is a working definition of human nature, and not "knowledge of mankind for the sake of knowledge" (i.e., intellectualized pot-hunting), then any method of observation of human nature which can be tested and utilized is of value. Obviously, no method is without error, and even the most reliable methods can yield faulty results in the hands of inexperienced individuals. The portrait artist who has been painting contemporary portraits designed to flatter a socially mobile clientele can hardly be expected to produce aboriginal portraits of lasting merit. When a capable artist, aware of cultural differences and moderately attuned to "Indian character," records his analysis of Geronimo, is the resulting product of no anthropological value? As long as our leading anthropologists insist that human culture is too complex for analysis, and psychologists give us no better tools for recording human personality types than are now available, I, for one, do not think that we can afford to discard this type of record. Particularly when that record is accompanied by an account of the conditions under which the painting was made, and which incidentally provides us with a good means of judging the interests, character, and bias of the artist, I think we have a type of data which some day may prove invaluable, even though at the moment we lack the conceptual tools and courage to use them. Personally, I am saving my copy of Burbank Among the Indians for future reference.

ALFRED F. WHITING

University of Oregon