Andrew Clemens, a self-trained society craftsman, didn't live long enough to appreciate distinction. His works were executed in sand and contained in little pharmacist bottles. In spite of their sensitive craftsmanship, the mid-nineteenth century public would have thought of them as interests, not amazing bits of compelling artwork. To demonstrate their genuineness and to engage the common participants of dime exhibition halls, these bits of sand workmanship were frequently crushed to pieces. "I...