Returning History: David Drake’s Stoneware Jars Go Home—But Stay on View

On Friday, two rare stoneware jars crafted by the enslaved artist David Drake left a Milwaukee museum’s permanent collection and, in a quiet ceremony, were formally handed to his descendants. But in a twist emblematic of today’s evolving museum ethics, the jars remain on public display—this time, as property of the Drake family, on loan to the institution that once held them.

This move places Milwaukee among a growing number of museums nationwide confronting the question of restitution, especially regarding the work of Black artists whose legacies were shaped by oppression. David Drake, whose signature carvings in clay have long drawn collectors and scholars, was born into slavery in South Carolina in 1801. His signed pots—often inscribed with poems—stand as rare, direct voices from the antebellum South.

The decision to return the jars comes amid a season when the art world, and New York in particular, is reckoning with its own collections. At the Met and the Brooklyn Museum, curators this month have been fielding questions about provenance and the ethics of holding works obtained under duress. “This is a conversation echoing in our halls,” said Dr. Simone Harris, a curator at a major Manhattan institution, on Saturday. “Restitution isn’t just about returning objects, but about acknowledging lives and stories.”

For New Yorkers, the news from Milwaukee resonates beyond museum walls. As autumn’s cultural calendar kicks into high gear, exhibits across the city are foregrounding Black makers long overlooked. In Harlem, a pop-up gallery on Lenox Avenue is showcasing ceramics inspired by Drake’s forms, while at the New-York Historical Society, docents are prepping talks this week on the history of enslaved artisans in the Northeast.

The jars’ journey—from South Carolina kilns to Midwestern display cases, and now back to Drake’s family—offers a tangible reminder that history is alive, contested, and, sometimes, lovingly restored. For those wandering museum corridors this Sunday, the question is close at hand: Whose stories are we seeing, and whose are we ready to return?