Mining has strong ties to the Keweenaw Peninsula, with some of the world’s largest copper deposits and other minerals available across the landscape.
Many communities share the boom and bust of mining towns, celebrating the hard work of their ancestors while recognizing the pain and struggle with the dangers of the industry.
Most of the mines that sparked the population boom of the Keweenaw are now closed, long removed of the materials that are now in skyscrapers, telephone lines and electrical circuits across North America.
While many of these mines have been filled in or preserved into a historical site, the stories of the miners and their families have largely faded into the background. A new art installation at Quincy Mine seeks to change that, reviving the human presence once so integral to the region's history.
Last week the Keweenaw National Historical Park, in collaboration with the Keweenaw National Historical Park’s Advisory Commission and the Isle Royale and Keweenaw Parks Association, unveiled four steel sculptures at the Quincy Mine Dry House ruins. The sculptures, designed by artist Kasey Koski, depict miners and their family members, offering a glimpse into life during the peak of the copper mining era.
Brice BurgeArtist Kacey Koski stands in front of a statue depicting the family members of miners.“The sculptures were intended to bring the memory of those miners and their families, those original immigrants to this area, back here,” Koski said. “Researching the area — trying to learn more about the people who called this place home — their stories show why this place is so important.”
Koski was selected to create the sculptures after responding to a call for artists issued by historical park. Tasked with “repopulating” the area, her mission was to restore a sense of the people who once lived and worked in the Copper Country.
The Quincy Dry House, located across the highway from the mine itself, holds special significance in the daily routines of the miners. It was the place where workers would change into their gear before heading underground and clean up after a long, grueling day. Combining the domestic and industrial lives of the miners, the sculptures find a new way to represent the history that focused on the culture of the workers instead of the economic factors.
Using the area as a backdrop for the statues, Koski was inspired by many specific stories about the people of the area. This included many of the women and children who were families of the miners and were not always a part of the historical record of the mining operations.
“It was not just the lives of the miners that were impacted by what was happening in the area, which is why it was important to have at least one woman represented,” Koski said about a statue of a woman holding an infant while facing the Quincy Mine lift building. “This is a representation of not one specific woman, but any woman who had a husband or a child in the mine.”
Other statues were more specific, like the three miners on their way to the main lift building. With a silhouette on each side, one specific miner had notable features and extra cuts and accents in the metal. This statue recognized a set of three Italian brothers who immigrated to the area specifically to find fortune in the mines. Instead, two of the three died in separate accidents while working below ground, while the surviving brother had to walk on with just the memory of his loved ones.
Each statue is in a two-dimensional shape, making it difficult to locate each part of the installation unless the viewer is looking directly at it. Koski said that was intentional, so the stories told would disappear "like magic" into the landscape of the Dry House ruins, but still showcase the in-depth history when faced with the statues.
According to Keweenaw National Historical Park Superintendent Wyndeth Davis, that artistic interpretation helped qualify the installation for approval with the National Parks System. The federal government has strict guidelines on how art installations or any other changes are placed and maintained amongst historical locations, but Davis said the work at Quincy Mine is providing an opportunity for growth at other sites.
“One of the more exciting things with this is seeing the stories in the landscape and how each location can help share the history of the area. Other heritage sites are also talking about the possibilities to do the same kind of things,” Davis said. “This is an experiment, and we want to see what happens. Part of the joys with experimenting is to try something new and see how it works.”
Cut from COR-TEN steel at Baraga County’s Massie Manufacturing and cut at Laser North for cutting, the installation will eventually rust over. However, the type of material only rusts on the exposed surfaces, so the structural integrity of the statues will last as long as the ruins around them. It adds an evolving artistic touch to the project that means as much to the artist as it does the park.
Though Koski’s artistic journey took her west to Washington state after graduating from Finlandia University, her connection to the Upper Peninsula remains deep. She grew up in Baraga County, with roots tied to the Copper Country through her great-grandparents, who immigrated to the Houghton area during the height of the mining boom. Koski’s family eventually moved following one of the many strikes and labor movements during the mining boom, but many families and friends were on site for the statue unveiling.
“It means a lot, knowing that the working families who called this land home are back to this landscape,” she said.
Brice Burge is a regular contributor to UPword.