perspectives in Education and Deafness

b o o k    r e v i e w

If there is a book that deserves to be placed on the coffee table of every deaf person—and every teacher of Deaf studies—in America, it is this one. It is an expansion of Albronda's earlier work: Douglas Tilden: Portrait of a Deaf Sculptor. After its publication, Tilden's daughter released her father's papers to the University of California's Bancroft library. This legacy proved to be a real treasure, enabling Albronda to come to grips with Tilden as man and artist.
Tilden was the genius who created sculptures for the city of San Francisco during the early 1900's. Like many geniuses, he had a winning charm as well as manifold and profound failings.
I was one of the many deaf people that Tilden influenced without even meeting. In 1935, I was 13 years old, deafened three years from spinal meningitis, and very unsure of myself and my future when the San Francisco Cal-Bulletin, our daily newspaper, headlined his demise. "Death Ends Notable Career," I read, and learned about the deaf man who is now called the "Father of San Francisco Sculpture." I was inspired. If one deaf man could be so successful, perhaps I could enjoy some success, too.
Albronda's research is impressive. She states that Tilden "never seems to have never thrown out a word he ever wrote." Also among his papers were a profusion of newspaper clippings and scrapbooks. The current volume goes into more detail about his marriage—to Elizabeth "Bessie" Coe, also deaf, and divorce. It quotes Tilden as saying that his wife's "confusion" made it necessary to institutionalize her. He attempts to debunk her ravings about his infidelity—and then accuses her of similar behavior. Despite their angry encounters, it seems Bessie continued to love him, bringing food to him during his last impoverished years.
The book also acknowledges the role of James Phelan, mayor of San Francisco and art patron, who made it possible for Tilden to pursue his grand statues, many of which still stand today. Phalen also assisted Tilden during his last lean years, despite Tilden's support of his political rivals. Why? Tilden was always ready to apologize—charmingly—and it must have been impossible to stay angry with him. (Just ask Bessie. She knew!)
Albronda makes much of the fact that Tilden, a graduate and one-time teacher of the California School for the Deaf Berkeley, could not get a job there in his later life when he really needed the money. She attributes this to limitations placed by the economic depression of the thirties, whic h restricted hiring in general, and the demands of oral instruction, which at that time which limited hiring of deaf people in particular.
This may be true, but Tilden's failure to secure a job might also be traced to his fiery temper and his arrogance. Once the principal and a visiting VIP reportedly walked into his class unexpectedly to find him shaking a student with remarkable violence. For a minute, everyone froze, then Tilden dropped the lad, strode to the blackboard and wrote: "Action word—The verb—to shake." Everyone relaxed and the principal explained the philosophy of "teaching by demonstration." As they got ready to leave, the principal turned back and signed, "finish," to Tilden, meaning "enough of that." Even in the days when physical punishments were the norm, such behavior could not have endeared him to the administration. Albronda only hints at the irascible and cantankerous personality behind the man who was one of the great artists in American history. It becomes obvious from the text that she, like so many people, was beguiled by him, willing to dismiss as eccentric traits that which would seem reprehensible in us ordinary mortals.
Still, as one flips through page after page of color prints showing Tilden's work at its finest, this is easy to understand. Here was a man worthy of the appellation "genius." Albronda does a service to deaf people and the deaf community in re-telling and beautifully illustrating his amazing story.