Charley Harper’s unique approach to wildlife art — a style he called “minimal realism” — delighted popular audiences and earned the admiration of the scientific community. Best known for his simplified, geometric depictions of natural subjects (especially birds), his later work conveyed powerful messages about the environment. Harper credited early commissions from Ford Motor Company with encouraging both his focus on wildlife subjects and his signature style.
This updated take on a Grand Canyon landscape painted during Charley Harper’s honeymoon was the first in his “Horseless Carriage Adventures” series, which commemorated Ford Motor Company’s 50th anniversary in 1953. / THF706499
Beginnings
Charley Harper (1922-2007) began his career as a commercial artist in Cincinnati, Ohio, in the late 1940s. He’d just returned from a cross-country honeymoon funded by a traveling art scholarship. A portfolio Harper had assembled during the trip caught the attention of the Ford Times, a promotional magazine published by Ford Motor Company. Ford Times featured a mix of travelogues and general interest stories, with Ford advertising sprinkled throughout. Several pages near the back of each issue spotlighted noteworthy American restaurants. Charley Harper’s first Ford Times illustration appeared here, in the December 1948 issue.
Charley Harper’s first Ford commission was printed in the “Favorite Recipes of Famous Taverns” section of the December 1948 issue of Ford Times. / Detail, THF706474
Harper’s painting of the Gourmet Room, a restaurant atop the new Terrace Plaza Hotel in Cincinnati, was the first of many restaurant illustrations by Harper that appeared in Ford Times and its sister publication, Lincoln-Mercury Times. Some were later reprinted in a series of recipe books (of which Harper also illustrated two covers).
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Roald Amundsen, 1906. / Detail, THF621173
The list of Norwegian Roald Amundsen's polar accomplishments is impressive. From 1903 to 1906, Amundsen and a crew of six navigated the first ship through the famed Northwest Passage. In 1911, he became the first person to set foot at the South Pole. Following this history-making dash, Amundsen returned to the Arctic. In 1918, he set off to drive a ship into the polar ice cap and drift over the Arctic Ocean and perhaps the North Pole. The expedition ended in 1921 — unsuccessful. Though he failed, Amundsen and his crew joined the few people at the time to have traversed the Northeast Passage — the route along the Arctic coasts of Europe and Asia.
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1938 Massey-Harris Model 20 Self-Propelled Combine in Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation. / THF110572
Combines loom large on the floor of Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation, but they loom even larger on the physical and historical landscape of America’s agricultural heartland. Standing high on the horizon, combines both symbolize and represent the reality of the mechanization of modern agriculture. The 1938 Massey-Harris Model 20 self-propelled combine, a designated landmark of American agricultural engineering, was the first commercially successful self-propelled combine to make its way through an American harvest.
1930s, 20th century, Henry Ford Museum, food, farms and farming, farming equipment, by Jim McCabe, agriculture
New Holland TR70 Axial Flow Combine, 1975. / THF57471
The combine — a piece of agricultural machinery — gets its name because it combines the three major tasks of harvesting grain:
- Harvesting: cutting and gathering the crop in the field.
- Threshing: removing the kernels or seeds of the crop from the rest of the plant.
- Separating: separating the kernels from other plant material such as stalks, chaff or straw.
Combines save large amounts of time and labor because they combine many activities into a single task. Self-propelled combines culminated 150 years of monumental changes in farming technology.
Efforts to perfect combine technology date to the early 1800s, but horse-drawn — and later tractor-drawn — machines were large and unwieldy. This combined harvester operated in California grain fields around 1900. / THF702847
Roast chicken. Mashed potatoes. A simple chocolate cake. Some foods have a sense of timelessness about them — they are reliable standbys that seem or stand the test of time with little to no alteration. Other foods, however, drift in and out of the public consciousness — and our refrigerators and stomachs. These foods are fads — practices followed for a time with exaggerated zeal, per the Merriam-Webster dictionary — and they reflect the values and preoccupations of the times in which they were popular.
As the 19th turned into the 20th century, domestic science and home economics arose as formally taught disciplines. Many domestic scientists espoused a view of women and women’s work that emphasized “feminine virtues” like beauty and daintiness. This changed the way women were expected to cook, as more emphasis was placed on presentation and nutritional value, rather than on creating culinary experiences that delighted the senses and filled the stomach.
This emphasis is readily apparent in the popularity of aspics — gelatinized dishes — in the first decades of the 20th century. Recipe booklets — most often produced by gelatin companies like Knox Gelatine and Jell-O — gave home cooks a myriad of ways to incorporate gelatin into their meals, in ways both savory and sweet. These dishes were often served on beds of iceberg lettuce, or in hollowed-out halves of fruit, providing a compact way of serving all of a meal's component parts in one tidy package.
The 1924 recipe booklet “Dainty Desserts for Dainty People” included recipes for jiggly jellied creations like "Salad-Dessert” and “Corned Tongue in Aspic.” / THF708085, THF708087
Aspics would remain a somewhat popular part of American cuisine into the 1970s, when they began to decline in popularity; some regional gelatin dishes hung on, though, and can be found at potlucks and family gatherings to this day.
While some food fads stem from the prevailing advice of the time, others stem from pop-culture trends of the moment. In the mid-20th century, American thoughts turned to space, and their appetites soon followed suit. Tang — the powdered vitamin C breakfast drink first produced in 1957 and marketed as a healthier, more convenient alternative to orange juice — rocketed to popularity after it was sent to space with John Glenn when he first orbited Earth in 1962. Tang’s subsequent marketing would lean heavily into the space connection, while continuing to tout its superior vitamin C levels and convenience. While its popularity in the U.S. waned in the years following the Space Race — despite being marketed as a potential ingredient in all sorts of recipes — it remains popular in Asia, South America, and the Middle East.
Advertisement for Tang, “Chosen for the Gemini Astronauts,” 1966 / THF230075
Less enduring in popularity after the Space Age were Space Food Sticks. These “non-frozen balanced energy snacks in rod form containing nutritionally balanced amounts of carbohydrate, fat and protein” (to quote the 1970 patent) were first produced by Pillsbury in 1969, and modeled after the food cubes the company had created for the 1962 Aurora 7 mission. They were marketed primarily to children, and had a consistency similar to a Tootsie Roll. Production halted in 1980, although for a period of time between 2006 and 2014, visitors to the Kennedy Space Center and the National Air and Space Museum could purchase a revival version produced by Retrofuture Products.
Pillsbury Space Food Sticks, 1969-1971 / THF175150
There have also been trends against certain foods. Monosodium glutamate (MSG) — first prepared in 1908 by Japanese chemist Dr. Kikunae Ikeda to achieve the distinctive, savory umami taste found in sea kelp — was first used by American food manufacturers in the late 1920s. In the wake of World War II, interest on the part of the military and the advent of frozen foods saw increased demand for MSG, and the first U.S. brand — Ac'cent — hit the shelves in 1947.
"Ac’cent: Crystals of 99+% Pure Monosodium Glutamate” Product Package, 1947-1955 / THF194339
The 1960s, however, brought with it a rising distrust of industrialized food, and MSG came under scrutiny — alleged to be the culprit behind everything from the vague “Chinese restaurant syndrome” to brain damage in mice. Despite questionable scientific evidence — the FDA has consistently classified it as safe for human consumption — MSG quickly fell out of public favor, although recent research into the science of umami has led to a resurgence in popularity.
Food fads can also be about how we eat. There has often been an element of prescriptive diet or health advice behind food fads, often tied to the idea of getting thinner as a synonym for getting healthier.
This introduction to “Sophia’s Recommended Recipes,” published by Weight Watchers in 1971, reflects the idea that being “lighter” is better, as well as the notion that diets are primarily for women (whom it assumes eat smaller portions), not men. / THF296150
“Fad dieting” has become its own term, often used to refer to trendy schemes that promise dramatic results, but have little to no scientific veracity. These trends come and go, with a new regime seeming to crop up every few years. Even the more long-standing weight loss programs change with the times, shifting their marketing and programming to best attract new clients.
1975’s “The Skinny Book,” published by Better Homes and Gardens and sponsored by diet soda brands TAB and Fanta, focused on low-calorie dieting as a method to weight-loss — with a healthy dose of product placement. / THF708069
The transitory and often contradictory nature of diet advice perhaps serves as a reminder that well-trained medical professionals — not marketers — remain an important resource for healthy eating guidelines.
Whether they stem from well-meaning advice or well-placed marketing, whether they are embraced or derided, food fads are an inescapable part of the culture of cuisine. Whether you dig into the latest dish or stick to the classics — bon appétit!
Rachel Yerke, associate curatorCan you name a fabric that would have all of the following characteristics?
- Durable and hard-wearing
- Comes from a natural and replenishable source that is cruelty free
- Naturally antifungal with hypoallergenic properties
- Naturally water, stain, and fire resistant
- Lustrous and fashionable
It’s not easy to come up with something that would meet each and every one of these criteria, but if you guessed horsehair, then you guessed right!
A view of the formal parlor in the Webster Home, Greenfield Village.
Let’s rewind to 1835 and step inside the Webster home in Greenfield Village, where you will find a grand couch and two footstools in the formal parlor. The set is upholstered in a rich and lustrous espresso-colored horsehair fabric. Why horsehair? Before automobiles came along, working horses were everywhere and it was commonplace for their tails to be trimmed short for practical and hygienic reasons. People made use of the cut-off portion, finding it to be a natural material that was both plentiful and resilient. It would have been a popular, sensible, and stylish choice for upholstery in high-traffic areas and common in parlors, dining rooms, and meeting areas across Europe and the U.S. (in fact, you’ll find many examples throughout the village, so keep those eagle eyes peeled the next time you visit).
The tails of working horses were cut short for practical reasons, as you can see in this painting by George Stubbs titled “A Saddled Bay Hunter,” 1786. Oil on panel; 21 3/4 inches by 27 3/4 inches. Berger Collection, Denver Art Museum. (Public Domain)
This particular furniture set dates to 1815-1825, so it’s in pretty wonderful shape, all things considered. Village staff spotted surface damage to one of the footstools, and so it was brought to our conservation labs, where our historic objects get the TLC they need.
The damage is not new and was likely caused by beetles that would be attracted to the proteins in the horsehair. Sometimes a damaged artifact gives us the chance to see what’s on the inside and learn more about the innovative techniques and materials that were used to produce it. For instance — do you see the squiggly nest of strands inside the holes in the photo above? That’s actually horsehair too. It could be used as stuffing for upholstered furniture because it’s malleable but also has lots of structure to keep cushions from deflating.
The Treatment
Conservation work involves a bit of science, art, and a lot of patience. Our job isn’t to make the object look new. Instead, we aim to consolidate original materials and stabilize the artifact as a whole in a way that honors its craftsmanship and allows its story to continue to be told.
We considered various materials for making patches but were eager to experiment and see if they could be made from horsehair fabric itself. This is tricky because of how this type of fabric is woven. As you can see in the image below, each strand of hair sticks out from either selvedge edge of the cloth because horsehair isn’t long enough to be woven back and forth through the cotton warp (the solid black threads that are strung onto the loom). The hairs selected for this type of fabric are the thickest and most wire-like ones. The fabric is tightly woven but can fray easily when cut.
John Boyd Textiles Ltd. in Castle Cary, England, is one of the last remaining manufacturers of horsehair fabrics. You can see a video about their traditional production process on their website: Horsehair Fabrics woven by John Boyd Textiles (Image via Creations Metaphores, Instagram).
Our supply of horsehair fabric comes from John Boyd Textiles in the UK. The adhesive that we use to attach the new patch to the original material comes as a film held between two sheets of mylar; it can be heat-sealed to fabrics with a tacking iron. In this case, it allows us to attach the patch to the footstool but also helps to seal the raw edges of the horsehair together as they are being cut.
A tapered patch is carefully slid into place using fine-tipped tweezers.
We ensured the direction of the weave on each patch aligned with where it would be placed on the footstool and refined the tapered ends to limit the amount of disruption to the object as we slid them into place between the layers of existing upholstery. With tweezers, we were able to do this without lifting or stretching the original surface. Once heat-set, we then carefully wicked hide glue (another natural material and one of the oldest types of adhesives) into the edge of each hole so that the patch was fully stabilized from either side. We chose hide glue for its ability to expand and contract due to changes in temperature — a helpful quality for an artifact that lives in Greenfield Village year-round.
The upholstered cushion of the footstool before (L) and after patches have been applied (R).
Finally, we used a fine-tipped brush and a blend of acrylic paint colors to disguise the raw jute around the edge of each hole, matching the placement of the striated dark and light strands of horsehair. In this way, we can maintain the integrity of the object’s history for study or further treatment down the road while still allowing it to tell the focused story of its current exhibition without distraction.
Kate Herron, conservation specialist, textiles, Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation
In the early 1920s, Tsuneji "Thomas" Sato (1882-1969) found himself in the middle of a Michigan lumber camp on the opposite side of the world from his birthplace in Japan. Working with precision and productiveness and, most importantly, personality, Sato served a hot meal to a group of vagabonds who, although weary from their travels, had no apparent reason to be weary at all. Sato knew that firsthand, as he and his co-workers had been the ones responsible for getting this party — and their extravagant caravan — over hills, across rivers and through the wilderness.
Tsuneji Sato, 1921. / THF127407
While the lumber camp was obscure, the camping party’s members certainly were not, as Sato’s employer was the man who needed the vast swaths of hardwood being extracted out of Michigan’s northern forests at this camp, and others, to feed his automobile manufacturing machine, Ford Motor Company. At the heart of the company’s brand recognition was the polarizing, do-it-yourself folk hero Henry Ford whose wealth contradicted his own populist ethos and whose life was wholly dependent on a group of people who made things happen for him. A group, for some time, that included Sato. So much so that Ford postponed this trip just to ensure that Sato could make it work around his own personal schedule.
Tsuneji Sato preparing a meal at Sidnaw Lumber Camp in 1923. / THF127423
In some sense, the Fords were no different than other wealthy families of the early 20th century who had the means to staff their homes, preferring to hire domestic servants from a growing Japanese immigrant population generalized at the time as “polite, careful, clean, ambitious, and intelligent.” Japanese immigration to the United States had gradually increased over the late 1800s as the notoriously insular empire emerged from isolation and struggled with the abrupt pace of industrialization, regional war and a northern famine. By the early 1900s, hundreds, if not thousands, of Japanese immigrants were finding employment success in America’s household services sector, but a general spike in immigration began escalating a nativist angst among white Americans.
The Ford Family and Tsuneji Sato. Pictured left to right are Eleanor Ford, Sato, Henry Ford, Edsel Ford and Clara Ford on a 1921 camping trip in Maryland. / THF127405
A furor of anti-Asian discrimination and violence, especially on the West Coast where Asian American communities were expanding, eventually led to an informal agreement between President Theodore Roosevelt and Japan, known as the Gentleman’s Agreement of 1907-1908, which restricted immigration from Japan until the Immigration Act of 1924 ultimately banned immigration from Asian regions altogether. Despite increasing xenophobia and restrictions, Tsuneji’s brother Junjiro (1870-1957) left their hometown of Wakuya, located in Japan’s northern prefecture, Miyagi, and made his way to the United States in 1894. At some point in the next 20 years, his younger brother Tsuneji would join him.
Tsuneji and Junjiro Sato. Date unknown. Source: Courtesy of the Sato brothers' descendants.
Upon the completion of Henry and Clara Ford’s sprawling Fair Lane Estate in 1915, Clara Ford contacted the Japanese Reliable Employment Agency of New York City looking for help. The Fords' former Japanese domestic servants, a couple who had worked for them at previous homes, wanted more for their lives in America: their own house and the ability to chase their own dream. Henry Ford obliged and gave the husband a job at his Highland Park plant, leaving Clara to inquire for someone who was single and “not as attached.” What the Fords received in Tsuneji Sato, now with the adopted English name of Thomas, was someone highly regarded who had the charisma and work ethic that could keep up with the unusual demands of an automobile magnate’s family. Continue Reading
Liberty Island Snow Globe, circa 1995 / THF175423
Mass-produced plastic snow globes (also known as snowdomes) are resonant and enduring objects of American culture. They have been sold as souvenirs and collectibles since the 1950s, but their story is nearly 150 years old.
Water-filled glass snow globes were first introduced at the Paris Universal Exposition of 1878. By 1879, there were at least five companies producing and selling snow globes throughout Europe.
In the early 1920s, snow globes were introduced in the United States, where they became popular collectors’ items. An American, Joseph Garaja, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, revolutionized the snow globe industry with a new method of assembly, patented in 1929. Hollywood films launched the mass popularity of snow globes, beginning with "Kitty Foyle: The Natural History of a Woman" (1940) and "Citizen Kane" (1941).
Julia Child profoundly transformed American cuisine and food culture. Equally distinct as her voice and infectious personality, her legacy continues to inspire chefs of all levels.
In tandem with our limited-time exhibition at Henry Ford Museum of Innovation, Julia Child: A Recipe for Life, Plum Market Kitchen will serve Julia Child-inspired recipes and dishes through September.
Below are five recipes prepared by our talented team of in-house chefs that you can craft at home alongside family and friends.
Looking for other ways to expand your culinary knowledge? Learn more about our “Mastering the Art of Julia Child” programming series.
Tomato Provençal
Ingredients:
- 4 slices rustic French bread
- ½ bunch fresh parsley
- ¼ pound fresh basil
- ¼ pound fresh rosemary
- 1 tablespoon chopped or sliced garlic
- ¼ cup olive oil
- 12-15 ripe tomatoes
- Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 325 F.
- Lightly toast or dry out the bread slices.
- Add the bread, parsley, basil, rosemary and garlic to a food processor and pulse until the mixture is finely chopped and minced together. Add olive oil for moisture as needed.
- Cut tomatoes in half on a baking sheet and cover with the bread and herb mixture.
- Bake for 20-30 minutes until the topping is golden brown and the tomatoes have softened.
- Serve as a side dish with nearly any recipe.
Ratatouille
Ingredients:
- 1 eggplant, diced in large chunks
- 2 zucchinis, diced in large chunks
- 2 yellow squash, diced in large chunks
- 1 yellow onion, diced
- 1 tablespoon chopped garlic
- Olive oil to taste
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 1 tablespoon fresh thyme
- ¼ pound fresh basil, thinly sliced
- 1 large can diced tomatoes
- Optional: breadcrumbs for topping
- Optional: Parmesan cheese
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 375 F.
From practical footwear to eye-catching fashion statements, Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation’s current What We Wore exhibit is all about shoes. On display are 30 pairs of men’s, women’s and children’s shoes dating from the 1780s to the 2000s.
Each pair offers a bit of footwear history — and, for some perhaps, a familiar style once found in their own closet!
Shoes will be on display until May 24. Here’s a peek at a few examples.
Men’s Boudoir Slippers, 1855-1860 / THF31115
Men's embroidered slippers were very popular in the mid-1800s. Ladies magazines often included embroidery patterns for house slippers that a woman might make for her husband as a gift.
Men’s Wingtip Oxfords, 1945-1955, Gift of Richard Glenn / THF370088
The low-sided oxford came into fashion for men’s footwear in the 1910s, along with wingtips (a toe cap in the shape of a bird’s wing embellished with a perforated pattern). White shoes were for summer.
Reebok Pump AXT Cross-Training Shoes, circa 1990 / THF370066
In the 1970s, athletic shoes became big business as the popularity of running and more relaxed dress codes in workplaces and schools led to a boom in the market. Manufacturers developed high-tech features designed for more support and stability. Reebok introduced the Reebok Pump in 1990, a shoe that used inflatable chambers that pumped-up for a custom fit.
Women’s Shoes, 1785-1789, Gift of American Textile History Museum / THF370062
Before shoemaking became a mechanized industry in the mid-1800s, shoes were made by hand. Amos Boardman created these silk shoes — undoubtedly for a prosperous client— in one of the many small shoemaking home-shops that flourished in late 1700s New England.
Women's Boots, 1867, Gift of Cora D. Maggini, Worn by Angeline (Anna) Duckworth when she married Rufus Larkin in Posey County, Indiana, in September 1867 / THF158262
Sandals from ancient Greece or Rome inspired these 1860s shoes — footwear designed to reveal pretty-colored silk stockings beneath!
Women’s Platform Shoes, 1945-1950, Gift of American Textile History Museum, Donated to ATHM by Sharon and Phil Ferraguto / THF370078
Introduced in the late 1930s, platform shoes remained popular through the 1940s. These eye-catching examples sport cherry red, ivory and gray reptile leather.
Women’s Glitter Jelly Sandals, circa 1990 / THF172055
Jelly shoes were a favorite among young women in the 1980s and 1990s. Made of PVC plastic, the shoes came in a rainbow of colors. Sandals were the most popular.
Girls’ Slippers, circa 1850 / THF156007
In the mid-1800s, girls wore slippers with ribbon ties for formal occasions. For everyday? Low boots.
Boys’ Boots, circa 1865 / THF156008
Children’s clothing has increasingly included images that have appeal for a child. These are an early example — Civil War-era boots with a figure of a dashing Zouave soldier.
Saddle Oxfords, 1955-1965, Gift of Randolph C. and Nancy M. Carey / THF78930
The saddle shoe, with its contrasting color leather “saddle,” is a style icon. Worn by uniformed schoolkids since the 1930s and by “bobby soxer” teens in the 1940s and 1950s, the saddle shoe has an enduring link to youth culture.
Jeanine Head Miller is curator of domestic life at The Henry Ford.
What We Wore, Henry Ford Museum, fashion, by Jeanine Head Miller, 20th century
