Bowling Them Over: The Institute and the “Americana Series”
This past fall, Joan Wrenn, mother of Uncommon Sense co-editor Rebecca Wrenn and occasional contributor to Institute footnotes and conference programs, stumbled upon evidence of an intriguing and hitherto forgotten episode in Institute history—a collaboration in the 1940s and 1950s between the Institute and Steuben Glass on a project that seems far removed from our current work. Though Dr. Wrenn’s degree is in biology, she and husband Jim Wrenn graciously accepted the challenge of investigating this odd moment in the Institute’s past for Uncommon Sense. The Wrenns’ investigative efforts, originally intended to produce a “short article,” started out discouragingly slowly, as no one at the Institute had ever heard of the project, much less seen a bowl. Eventually, however, Becky’s digging through dusty Institute archive boxes yielded a curious collection of bowl-centric letters, telegrams, and pictures, and the authors’ flurry of exchanges with an ever-widening group of correspondents turned up enough information for a two-part series.
On December 29, 1948, during the holiday season, members of the Council of the Institute of Early American History and Culture gathered for lunch at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, D.C. Following the repast, hosted by Mr. Arthur A. Houghton, Jr., President of Steuben Glass, the Council came to order for a special meeting “to give Mr. Houghton an opportunity to present to the Council in detail his project for a monumental set of Steuben glass, ‘The Americana Series,’ or some such title, with the professional assistance of the Institute.” “The set would consist of forty-eight large covered pieces, each dedicated to one of the states; and a forty-ninth piece, truly monumental in size, representing the United States of America.”1
So began a notable period of early Institute history during which three different Institute directors, many Council members, and one Institute staff member, Stella Duff Neiman, contributed greatly to the creation of a series of fifty-two hand-blown and hand-engraved Steuben covered bowls—forty-eight pieces representing the states in existence when the project began, the “truly monumental” one for the whole country, and three more that were added later for Hawaii, Alaska, and Puerto Rico.
No ordinary executive, Houghton was born in 1906 to the family that founded Corning Glass. In 1929, after attending Harvard, he began working in the firm and was soon appointed its director. When Steuben Glass was reorganized in 1933, he became president of the company. Along with establishing himself in business, he also acquired rare books and manuscripts, among them works of Keats, Spenser, and Lewis Carroll, and his collection eventually included a Gutenberg Bible, a first folio of Shakespeare, the finest copy known of Milton’s Paradise Lost, and the original manuscript of Boswell’s Life of Johnson. In 1940 the Library of Congress appointed Houghton curator of Rare Books, a post he held for two years, and in 1942 Harvard honored him for his generosity by giving his name to the Houghton Library, the first university-established research facility for the housing and study of rare books and manuscripts. Later to become Chairman of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Arthur Houghton was a scholar, a bibliophile, and a lover of art—and a man who knew the world of academe. 2
The genesis of the December special meeting lies in a letter written by Arthur Houghton on November 5, 1948, to his friend, Julian Boyd, historian, Librarian of Princeton University, and member of the Institute’s Council. Steuben, wrote Houghton, “had been attempting to use glass as a medium of expression in the Arts. ” Its chemists having perfected a new glass of exceptional clarity, called “10-M,” Steuben had begun to use this formula exclusively to create its crystal, and Houghton proposed to Professor Boyd that his company would design and make the “monumental set” of state bowls later discussed in the special meeting. To this project Houghton would assign his best artists: Sidney Waugh, Steuben’s “most qualified designer of engraved glass,” well-known sculptor, and president of the National Sculpture Society; and Steuben’s “master engraver” Joseph Libisch, who was, according to his employer, “not only the greatest engraver alive today, but even possibly the greatest who has ever lived.”3
Houghton then asked Boyd to present his proposal to the Institute.
In order to achieve what we desire in this project it is necessary for us to have the best possible professional assistance in selecting the historical incident or incidents to be engraved upon each piece of glass. The selection should be made with the highest degree of scholarship in American History. I would sincerely appreciate your approaching the Institute for Early American History to ascertain whether they would be willing to assist us in this project. They are, I believe, the one group who are most capable of making the necessary research and of enabling us to achieve the complete standard of perfection which this great project involves. I believe you can assure them of the sincerity with which we would undertake the work. It will be a long, difficult and expensive task for us, but we would undertake it without commercial implications and with the sole desire of producing a lasting monument in the history of American Arts.4
At the meeting after lunch on that December 29, Houghton delineated the points of discussion: finding a theme that would unite the bowls and the “Material that will be needed to assist designer: Written description, pictorial reference material— incident, location, costumes, portraits (difficult) physical characteristics, equipment, vegetation, etc.”5 Designer Sidney Waugh told the Council “that famous American folklore and legend as well as history could be represented, and that a light, humorous touch would be needed here and there.” On the other hand, Houghton “emphasized his desire for historical accuracy in both factual detail and interpretation in order to achieve the highest standard.”6 Arriving at the themes for each of the bowls would prove to be a challenge for everyone involved.
Council members instructed the director of the Institute, Carl Bridenbaugh, to develop a plan of action and submit it to Mr. Houghton and then to the Council at its regular spring meeting. For the next several months correspondence flew between Williamsburg and New York, home of the Steuben Glass offices, as Bridenbaugh and Houghton worked to develop a plan. Early on the Institute director wondered how many sets of the bowls would be made; if they would be for sale; if so, if they would be sold separately. He also questioned whether Houghton would “want us to write the book.”7
On February 6, 1949, Bridenbaugh wrote Houghton that he had been “giving considerable thought to the Steuben Glass project” and “the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it would be a mistake to have an episode, symbol or device representing each of the 48 states. The problem is that some states are overwhelmed with their history while others have no important incidents at all. We have had Mrs. Bridenbaugh’s family, who are all professors or scientists or the like, working on Iowa, and they can think of no suitable historical event to symbolize that state’s history. I suspect that Idaho and Arizona will evoke even less of a response from the casual public.” In place of individual state bowls, Bridenbaugh proposed forty-eight bowls to represent the states in number alone, each with one engraving to portray a “familiar and outstanding political and military” event of American history and another engraving to show an episode illustrating one of the “major threads of American development,” such as “the development of religious liberty, freedom of the press and speech, the Westward Movement.” In this way, “it will not be necessary to have a particular bowl for each state. By this elimination alone, much criticism and injured local pride can be obviated.” Interestingly, Arthur Houghton, who originally proposed the idea of state bowls, admitted to the same concern in an interview with Mary Jean Madigan, author of Steuben Glass: An American Tradition in Crystal: “We didn’t want the responsibility for picking the themes . . . that was a hot potato.”8
In late February, Director Bridenbaugh traveled to New York to visit Steuben and to speak directly to Mr. Houghton. There is no record in the Institute’s files of Houghton’s reaction to Bridenbaugh’s proposal to divorce the themes of the bowls from the history of individual states. On March 3, however, Bridenbaugh proposed to designer Waugh possible themes for three bowls, including the “Crockett legend” for Tennessee. He even sent Waugh his own copy of “Miss Constance Rourke’s Davy Crockett, which I will ask you to return at your convenience.” The suggestions for a trial design included “The Frontiersman,” with mention of Davy’s pipe-smoking pet bear Death Hug, “painters” (mountain lions), and “coons” (raccoons).9 Thanking Bridenbaugh for the proposal for Utah, also sent on March 3, Waugh expressed his appreciation for suggestions of several possible episodes for each state, since that gave the artist a broader choice of designs. For Utah, Waugh wrote, “The fourth episode which you suggest . . . . the gulls and the locusts— particularly appeals to me, first, because it has great design possibilities and, second, because the subject matter would not, in all probability, be repeated in the case of another state.” Indeed, Waugh had already prepared a design for that episode to present to Houghton, who wrote approvingly on March 28 that “the interpretation that he has worked out and the drawing are so finely done that I am putting it through to the factory for execution so that we will have it ready to take with us to Williamsburg in May” for the regular spring Institute Council meeting.10 In fact, the Steuben contingent did bring the Utah “trial” bowl and photographs of it to the May 7 meeting. Thus was the first bowl completed.
In the meantime Waugh had proposed a list of fifty-five general themes of American history and states with which “these . . . are usually connected in the public mind.”11 This was a modification of Carl Bridenbaugh’s proposal to generalize the themes, but Steuben, it is clear, intended to retain a clear state identification for each bowl. The forty-eight bowls would not be symbolic in number only.
On March 30, 1949, Bridenbaugh informed Houghton that Sidney Waugh’s comments had “done much to clarify our thinking” but continued, “The point that has been bothering me is that he seems to want to go ahead at a very rapid pace.” The Institute did not have the staff to proceed so quickly. All five staff members were working on the project part-time, but no one could devote full time to it.12
The request for a slowdown did not work. On April 12 Waugh asked Bridenbaugh for information about Kentucky. Replying to the “hurry-up letter” three days later, Bridenbaugh stated firmly that “Daniel Boone is unquestionably the best subject for Kentucky” and sent a photostat of Daniel Boone in combat with a bear. In the end, Daniel Boone did not make it onto the Kentucky bowl. Explained Waugh, “Suggestions were invited by Steuben from many sources including historical societies and prominent citizens of Kentucky. The recurrent subjects particularly native to the state and which distinguish it from all others seemed to be its fame for the raising of fine horses, races and Bourbon whiskey.” All three topics would appear on the Kentucky bowl, with Bourbon whiskey represented by “the name ‘Kentucky’ inscribed with flourishes in the general character of an old whiskey label.”13 Perhaps the Kentucky Daniel Boone and bear theme was too similar to Davy Crockett with pet bear—the Tennessee bowl did ultimately show Davy and Death Hug (with a pipe in its mouth), along with a raccoon and a mountain lion in the trees, just as Bridenbaugh’s letter had suggested.
The minutes of the Council meeting on the morning of May 7, 1949, briefly repeat Arthur Houghton’s proposal (Houghton himself was not present) for forty-eight state bowls and one national bowl: “These [historical incidents] are to be engraved on glass bowls and presented to the White House and to the National Gallery as a monument from Steuben Glass.”14 Whose idea this was—the Institute’s or Steuben’s—is unclear. Sidney Waugh spoke of the design of the Utah bowl that was shown at the meeting. “The first requirement of design is that it has to be readable and it is more effective if readable at a glance. The beauty and sheen of Steuben glass itself permits simplicity of design, in fact, makes it desirable.”15
John Gates, Steuben’s managing director, brought up the problem of the lack of an Institute staff member to devote many hours to research. Steuben wanted to complete the project quickly, so Gates proposed they hire a Ph.D. student from a university in New York to help. Although located in New York, this student would be under the direction of the Institute. Not pleased with that proposal, Bridenbaugh assured the Steuben contingent that the Institute would work on several more states to send to Steuben in the next few weeks and that he would “try to work out the time problem.”16 And sure enough, Bridenbaugh wrote Waugh on May 12 that “I think I have successfully solved the problem of assistance to you and me throughout the coming summer and fall.” He had discussed the project “with Miss Stella Duff of our staff . . . who . . . was the one who had the idea about the gulls and grasshoppers . . . and she is willing to undertake part of this work as an additional job this summer and in the fall.” The Director did not think that the Institute would be well served by a New York graduate student.
Communication between the student and the Institute would be inconvenient, if not downright difficult. Besides, Bridenbaugh assured Waugh, Stella was “so familiar with what we are doing and so much better trained than the average student, I am sure that this arrangement will pay off best.” Unconvinced, the Steuben group continued to push for a New York student. Finally, it was agreed that Duff would have something of a probationary period until “the week ending August 20th for the purposes of reviewing the results at that time.” On June 2 Bridenbaugh informed J. Beacham Tredennick, Assistant to the President of Steuben, that Duff would receive her master’s degree in a week and could then begin her work. The suggested pay was $4.00 per hour, “the sum that is usually paid for tutoring and Miss Duff’s work requires a great deal more background.”17
In his May 12 letter, Bridenbaugh also asked Sidney Waugh to confirm that “there will be two sets of the Americana Series made; one for the White House and one for the National Gallery and no other bowls will be made.” Replying for Waugh on May 24, Tredennick wrote, “As I explained to you on the telephone, it has never been our intention to limit the Americana Series to two sets. However, as the price per piece will undoubtedly fall between $750.00 and $1,000.00, it limits itself and in no sense can the sets be used in what you and your Institute might consider a commercial way.” Tredennick went on to say that the pieces would likely be displayed as a complete set or in sectional groups. As for selling the bowls individually, he thought that they might be purchased as gifts for institutions or people for whom a particular bowl would have a special meaning.+-18
By the summer of 1949, which he spent in Europe, Waugh had worked on, or was currently working on, the designs for eight states. The Institute had provided the research for four of them—Utah, Tennessee, Kentucky, and South Carolina; the other four—Virginia, Montana, California, and Texas—apparently had little or no Institute input.
Stella Duff was now the Institute researcher for Steuben. While her academic training “provided general background knowledge,” she explained that “for specific events that would lend themselves to artistic rendering, I relied on the Works Progress Administration’s volumes, one for each state.” About the Utah bowl, she wrote “the concept of the gulls and grasshoppers is pretty well known and I did think it was a pretty nigh perfect subject for this series.”19 On August 11, after developing material for eleven states, she sent her bill for $168.00—forty-two hours at $4.00 per hour—to Bridenbaugh, to forward to Steuben, but with a caveat: “if you think it is too high please dock the number of hours for me.” Replied Bridenbaugh, “The bill seems ok to me . . . After all, less than four hours to a state is hardly excessive, and they can well afford the job.”20
On October 21, two months after the end of Stella Duff’s probationary period—and the receipt of her bill—Tredennick wrote Bridenbaugh that upon “reviewing our thoughts and the very valuable material which Miss Stella Duff has supplied to us, we have definitely concluded that we should proceed further. . . . Therefore, it would be advisable to have Miss Duff, if she is still available, proceed with the remaining States. The arrangement we had with her during the Summer will be entirely satisfactory with us and I hope that she too will find it to her liking.”21 Steuben had realized Duff’s considerable value to the project.
It is not clear how much work Duff did after the October letter of praise, but five months later, on March 2, 1950, Tredennick again began pushing Bridenbaugh: “A recent development, however, makes it imperative that we get information concerning the following five States at an early date . . . New York, Rhode Island, West Virginia, Pennsylvania and Oklahoma. These States have suddenly become important because Corning is celebrating its 100th anniversary next year and these are States in which Corning plants are located. We would like to have the five pieces completed not later than December 1st of this year which places this section of the Americana series on something of a rush status.”22 Replying on March 6, Bridenbaugh found it “interesting to know that you are planning to get out some of the Americana Series this year. We will do all we can to help you, although we too are very much rushed at present. Miss Duff will be in New York on Friday and will get in touch with you at this time. She seems to feel that she can help you out before long.”23
A month later, having seen the design for the New Hampshire bowl, Bridenbaugh wrote enthusiastically to Tredennick, “As an old Dartmouth man, I was very much pleased with ‘The Devil and Daniel Webster’—we learned about the God-like Dan’l in every course I took except chemistry.”24 New Hampshire aside, the push was on to complete the five bowls for Corning states. While Duff was assuring Tredennick that she was working on these states, she also reviewed the photostats Steuben sent to the Institute as designs were completed. She caught an error in the style of gun in the Wisconsin drawing: “The guns of this period never had half stocks—the stock should run the whole length of the barrel.” Clearly Duff had an eye for the “historical accuracy and factual detail and interpretation” that Arthur Houghton had called for at the special Council meeting a year and a half earlier.25 But Duff and Waugh soon went head-to-head over West Virginia. In a letter to Duff on May 31, Tredennick wrote, “Mr. Waugh suggested, because I think that he would like to do the subject, that I ask you what you would think of ‘John Brown at Harper’s Ferry’ for this state. Do you think there is any merit in his suggestion, and if so do you have any material readily available?”26
Duff firmly set Steuben straight on this matter: “It really is not appropriate for the state. It is definitely an abolitionist subject—of the most fanatical kind—and West Virginia was as definitely not an abolitionist state.” She went on to explain the circumstances of the raid’s being at Harpers Ferry and concluded, “In other words, it had nothing to do with the people of West Virginia who were almost entirely out of sympathy with the affair. I think that you would probably also find out that today West Virginians do not look with any particular pride on it.”27
Just when it had begun to seem that Steuben and the Institute had found the secret of portraying national themes while simultaneously depicting incidents representative of particular states, West Virginia brought the issue of suitability front and center—and greatly disturbed Stella Duff’s historical sensibilities. Nevertheless, she conceded that “of course, the raid was still an extremely significant development in the anti-slavery movement and, in the event that you do not object to using it for a state that did not support it, I am enclosing a description.”28 Several months later, when she had seen the drawing for the West Virginia bowl, she gamely persisted: “I think that it is a very fine sketch, but I am still opposed to an abolitionist subject for that state.” It is ironic in light of her opposition that in Waugh’s later presentation of the Harpers Ferry theme for West Virginia, he explained the choice by referencing the Institute: “To quote the Institute of Early American History and Culture: ‘It was the most positive blow struck by anti-slavery forces in the fifty years of agitation for abolition.’”29 It was the only time in all his state texts that he directly quoted the Institute.
During this same period, Waugh pressed for “Gateway to the West” as a theme for Missouri, as the starting point of the Lewis and Clark expedition.30 Greatly in favor of Mark Twain as Missouri’s theme, Stella Duff pointed out that other states might need Lewis and Clark more than Missouri did and that North Dakota’s claim might well be more significant.31 In the end, North Dakota was blessed with the Lewis and Clark theme and Missouri landed “Gateway to the West,” showing a man and a woman looking toward the mountains and the setting sun.
On September 1, 1950, Duff informed Tredennick of two major developments. “Mr. Bridenbaugh left the Institute to accept the post as Margaret Byrne Professor of United States History at the University of California at Berkeley.” In addition, she would not have much time for work for a month or two because she was to be married in September and would henceforth be known as Mrs. Fraser Neiman.32 Ever the gentleman, Tredennick gave the bride not quite two months to adjust: at the end of October he was again asking for material “as we are pretty well caught up on the material you sent us thus far.”33 He had no specific requests for the order of the states she should work on; she could choose any she wanted. Two days later Neiman replied that she would “finish the New England states next as long as you have no preferences.”34 She was doubtless encouraged to realize that research for twenty-four states had been finished, leaving just the other twenty-four to do.
Sidney Waugh must have been busy with his designing, and the new Mrs. Neiman with New England and her marriage for almost a year, as Institute files contain little correspondence between them until September 27, 1951, when Tredennick sent her the drawings for six states and the United States bowl. As if in apology he wrote, “This is necessarily a very slow program, but we are moving ahead and are looking forward eagerly to completion of the series and to an important exhibition—plans for which are still to be made.”35 His acknowledgment of “a very slow program” contrasts markedly with his rush request for the five states with Corning plants a year and a half earlier.
During the lull, however, Arthur Houghton resumed his correspondence on the project by writing on March 9, 1951, to Lyman Butterfield of the Princeton University Library and fellow member of the Grolier Club of New York. Again using his academic connections, Houghton wrote, “I have heard rumors, but have seen no official announcement, that you are to become the Director of the Institute of Early American History and Culture . . . I can think of no-one more qualified for the distinguished position.” He went on to give Butterfield the history of the Americana series and the role of the Institute: “It is by far the largest project that Steuben has ever embarked upon, and although we have been working on it constantly for three years, it will take a good many years more before completion.” To be sure that the “new” director understood the Institute’s responsibility, Houghton emphasized, “We continue to work forward with the Institute, who accepted the obligation of doing the historical research on the various subjects to be portrayed upon the crystal” and said he hoped to meet with Butterfield to “plan the future progress of the work.”36
On October 11, 1951, Neiman informed Tredennick that she had been on a four-month leave of absence, having a baby, but now would be getting back to work. Congratulating her on the birth, Tredennick nevertheless urged her to keep her work on the states “coming as fast as you can, for at some point, we will find it necessary to accelerate the program.”37 By early January 1952, she had sent Steuben material for Massachusetts and Maine. The extensive research for the former included a number of possible themes, of which Neiman recommended education as “the most suitable choice for the Massachusetts bowl.”38 Acknowledging receipt of the material in November, Tredennick’s secretary, Rosemary Dunne, informed Neiman that “Mr. Tredennick has been ill for some time and is not expected back in the office for several months.”39
Shortly after, on February 25, 1952, Lyman Butterfield, now indeed director of the Institute, informed Houghton of a potential problem in Institute support:
At our executive committee meeting last November, as you know,we reviewed the matter, and the drawings and actual examples of the series so far done impressed nearly everyone very favorably, indeed. For reasons I have not yet been able to divine (though goodness knows I have tried to do so), Mr. [Samuel Eliot] Morison, who is chairman of our executive committee, took a violent dislike to some of the designs, notably those for New Hampshire and Rhode Island. Others beside myself thoroughly disagree with him, especially about Rhode Island, which many of us think is among the best in the group; but we have found that our arguments only increase his antipathy. Being very anxious to have our relationship with the project go on smoothly and successfully to its conclusion, I decided that my best tack was to bring Mr. Morison himself into our planning, and so I asked him for his ideas on Massachusetts, which is after all his own stomping ground. The two he suggested are embodied in the report that Stella Duff Neiman sent on not long ago. He gave first place to a clipper ship and second to the Burgis View of Harvard. If one of these is found acceptable to Sidney Waugh, it will help me out of a somewhat ticklish situation and will promote the good relations the Institute has so far had with this (as I believe) admirable enterprise.40
Letters flew back and forth between Williamsburg and New York for a month. On March 10, Arthur Houghton replied, “I see no reason why we cannot design the Massachusetts Bowl around the theme which Mr. Morison suggests. I shall take up the matter with Sidney Waugh who I am sure will be happy to cooperate.”41 Two days later he reported on the discussions. Although either theme could be developed, “the clipper ship is most acceptable from a design point of view.”42
Butterfield clearly appreciated Steuben’s positive reaction and reiterated his gratitude several times, but then another problem, this one of historical accuracy, arose. Robina Haynes, Assistant Director of Design, wrote that in choosing the clipper ship, “it seems important, under the circumstances, for the ship we use to have been built in Massachusetts, rather than New York . . . Sidney Waugh is very anxious to have absolutely correct reference material.”43 Butterfield’s reaction to being challenged on historical accuracy leaps off the page of his reply: “You seem to imply in your final paragraph that the ship we suggested, namely the Flying Cloud, was not built in Massachusetts but in New York. Upon checking our data, we find that the Flying Cloud was built by Donald McKay at East Boston.” Lyman referred to an article in the Dictionary of American Biography and suggested, “Very likely Sidney Waugh will wish to read this article.” Three more books were given as references and then the grand finale—The Maritime History of Massachusetts, written by Mr. Morison himself.44 Mr. Butterfield had made his point.
Through the years 1953 and 1954, Neiman communicated with several members of the Steuben staff about research for a number of states, but not with Tredennick. As she did not work on all the states, Waugh must have done some of them himself. Then on September 14, 1953, Steuben informed Neiman that J. Beacham Tredennick had died the previous March. Several weeks later a Steuben secretary wrote her that “our records indicate that all research for the forty-eight states in the ‘State Series’ plus Hawaii and the United States, has been completed. Therefore, if you will kindly send your bill for the last part of this work, a check will be sent to you shortly.”45 Stella Duff Neiman submitted her final bill on November 2, 1954.
Almost two years later, June 26, 1956, Tredennick’s successor, Sally Walker, wrote to Lester Cappon, the new director of the Institute, a “report on the present status of the collection.” There were now fifty-one pieces, all designed by Sidney Waugh, in the series: forty-eight state bowls, one Bowl of the United States, and bowls representing Hawaii and Alaska (Puerto Rico was added later). Twenty-two pieces had been completed and photographed; Steuben hoped to finish the entire series in 1957. Walker added, “We would also very much like to have your advice regarding plans for the publication of an illustrated book on the collection.”46 Replying to Walker, Cappon confirmed that “as you well know, the Institute of Early American History and Culture has been deeply interested in this project from the beginning, and I feel sure that an illustrated publication of considerable significance might well result.”47
The last letter in the Institute file, written on October 11, 1956, by Sally Walker to Lester Cappon, speaks of his unsuccessful efforts to get to New York to see the bowls completed at that time.48 Apparently the Institute’s work was done.
All the bowls were finally completed, the name of the set was changed from the “Americana Series” to “The United States in Crystal,” and the “important exhibition” predicted by Tredennick in 1951 did take place. The Steuben Glass Information Bulletin of June 29, 1959, announced the exhibition: “Collection ‘The United States in Crystal” to be exhibited at Steuben Glass.”
A series of engraved bowls honoring the individual states of theUnion will be exhibited in its entirety by Steuben Glass, in the exhibition gallery, opening to the public Wednesday, July 22. This will be the first public exhibition of the 52 bowls (50 states, Puerto Rico and central ‘United States Bowl’) designed by Sidney Waugh with research assistance from the Institute of Early American History and Culture. A private preview of the collection was held by Steuben the evening of May 5, 1959, for the benefit of Episcopal Charities in the Diocese of New York.
The press will be invited to a preview of THE UNITED STATES IN CRYSTAL Tuesday, July 21 between 10 AM and 5 PM.
The exhibition will open to the public on Wednesday, July 22, at 9:30 AM and is tentatively scheduled to remain on view through Friday, August 7.”49
It was nearly eleven years since the lunch at the Mayflower andthat first special meeting of the Council of the Institute.
