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gallery Online program:
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King Galleries is pleased to invite Edd Guarino to be part of our web-site. He has been collecting Pueblo pottery and Inuit art for almost thirty years. His collection has been featured in Museum exhibits, and he has written on collecting in magazines such as Native Peoples. He has been asked to write on any topic he chooses, and we will post them online. The opinions stated in his columns are his and do necessarily reflect those of the gallery or its artists. We are excited that this may be come a forum to facilitate communication about Pueblo pottery and Native art. You are welcome to respond to us at kgs@kinggalleries.com or directly to Edd, at EddGuarino@AOL.com.
Enjoy!
Online Articles
June 2007 "Sometimes Less is More"
August 2007 "A Matter of Size"
September 2007 "Ugly Duckling No More"
October 2007 "The Passionate Pilgrim"
November 2007 "It's Not Where You Start"
January 2008 "Art or NART"
February 2008 "Albuquerque Ambling"
March/April 2008 "Santa Fe Side"
May 2008 "Pecks in Time"
BY E. J. GUARINO
As collectors of Pueblo pottery, it is important to be aware of the continuum of Native American culture. Petroglyph National Monument, with its more than 20,000 images pecked into stone, provides an excellent opportunity to do so. Located only a few miles west of Albuquerque’s Old Town, the monument is easy to reach and well worth a visit.
(click to enlarge)
Petroglyph National Monument is the only unit in the National Park System that is dedicated to preserving petroglyphs. More importantly, the entire area is considered sacred by Native peoples of the Southwest and is regarded as a pilgrimage site because the petroglyphs are rich in spiritual meaning. Many of the symbols found on the large rocks in Petroglyph National Monument are still used by contemporary Pueblo artists. However, what may appear to some as merely primitive carvings are actually quite sophisticated and complex. The petroglyphs are not a type of picture writing that can simply be read to reveal their meaning. Any petroglyphs may contain multiple meanings. Each marking must be taken in context with its meanings derived from its position on the rock, the direction it faces as well as its relationship to other nearby images.
(click to enlarge)
The reasons why the ancestors of today’s Pueblo people chose to carve images into rock are as complicated and varied as the petroglyphs themselves. Whatever the reasons, the images were clearly important to the people who created them since it required a great deal of effort to chisel them into the rocks using only stones for tools.
Humans first entered the Río Grande Valley about 12,000 years ago. However, sometime around 1300 A.D. severe drought caused a new influx of people from other parts of the Southwest who where seeking reliable water sources and fertile land. Interestingly, though some of the carvings in Petrogylph National Monument may date to 5,000 B.C., the overwhelming majority of them date to between 1300 and 1600 A.D., a time when religious beliefs and artistic traditions were blending as the newcomers mingled with those already occupying the Pueblos along the Río Grande. Done in what has come to be known as the “Río Grande Style,” the images are mysterious and fascinating.
(click to enlarge)
Rocks are covered with spirals, stars, wavy lines and other geometric designs; bows and arrows, human hands and feet; hunters, dancers, flute players, and masked faces; butterflies and other insects; mountain lions, bears, and wolves; fish, snakes, turtles, and frogs; eagles, hawks, and parrots, tropical birds indicative of extensive trade networks.
(click to enlarge)
With the arrival of Europeans new images were added: sheep, ornate letters, names and dates, and four types of Christian crosses. Petroglyph National Monument is, in essence, an outdoor art gallery. As collectors of Pueblo pottery the monument offers the chance to see ancient art that continues to influence contemporary Native artists.
KNOW BEFORE YOU GO
There are four units within Petroglyph National Monument: Boca Negra Canyon, Piedras Marcadas Canyon, Rinconada Canyon, and Volcanoes. Located two miles north of the visitor center, the Boca Negra area is the most visited because it contains the most easily accessible petroglyphs. The Piedras Marcadas area is north of Boca Negra Canyon. It is much less visited but also contains numerous petroglyphs. The Rinconada area one mile south of the visitor center has a high concentration of petroglyphs but requires a 2½ mile hike on an unpaved trail to see them. On the far western end of the monument lies Volcanoes, an area with few petroglyphs but geographically important.
DIRECTIONS: From downtown Albuquerque take I-40 west to the Unser Blvd exit (#154); go north three miles to Western Trail; turn left and follow signs to the visitor center where you will find information on the monuments units.
Santa Fe Side (March/April 2008)
BY E. J. GUARINO
Just as a delicious meal is often enhanced by a savory side dish, a captivating travel destination can be enriched by a stimulating side trip. This is especially true of Santa Fé. Though visitors, especially first timers, often become so entranced by the city that they never venture beyond it, there are a number of nearby attractions that offer intriguing possibilities. One of the most interesting is Pecos National Historical Park.
The story of Pecos Pueblo is well presented in the park's visitor center where one thousand years of history covering the pit dwellers, the pueblos, and the arrival of the Spanish, the Mexicans and the Americans is illustrated on large panels. There is also an excellent exhibit of pottery and artifacts from the site. Finally, the trail guide is indeispendable to understanding life as it was lived at Pecos. Be sure to borrow one.
Humans first began to settle in the Pecos Valley sometime around A.D. 800, living in pit houses and practicing farming. They remained for 200 years and then seem to have suddenly departed though no one knows why. Within the next one hundred to two hundred years Ancestral Puebloans settled in the valley and by the 1300s inhabited twenty-four villages spread throughout the valley. Then, within one generation all of the small villages were abandoned and people migrated to Pecos. No one is quite sure of the reason for this phenomenon. Perhaps doing so freed up more land for farming or it was done for defensive purposes but by 1450 the pueblo had a population of 2,000 and stood five stories high.
View of the Pecos Valley (click to enlarge)
Pecos Pueblo is situated atop a small mesa at the halfway point of a pass through the southern Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The abundant game in the area and a nearby creek allowed the pueblo to thrive. Because of its location on the eastern frontier of the Pueblo world, Pecos not only faced threats but also reaped benefits. It was necessary to guard against incursions from the pueblos along the Rio Grande as well as from attacks from nomadic Plains tribes. For the most part, however, the people of Pecos were able to survive through a combination of a strong defense (it is said the pueblo could muster a force of five hundred warriors) and, perhaps more importantly, the formation of trade alliances. Functioning much like a city-state and acting as middleman between the pueblo farmers to the west and the hunting tribes of the Plains to the east, Pecos became wealthy and powerful, remaining so for two and a half centuries. Each year tribes from the Great Plains, in particular the Apaches, walked to Pecos to barter. Setting up their tepees in the meadow below the pueblo, they prepared for long periods of trade, which sometime lasted weeks. They offered buffalo meat and hides, tallow, flint, shells, and slaves. In return they received corn and other crops, cotton clothing and blankets, pottery, obsidian, and turquoise as well as brightly colored parrot feathers traded up from Mexico.
In 1540 Francisco Vásquez de Coronado and 1,200 soldiers set out to find the fabled seven cities of gold, fueled by the often fanciful tales that had been related by Cabeza de Vaca who had wandered over much of northern New Spain. They were lured on by the mistaken belief that, like Mexico, the lands to the north would also contain large cities filled with gold. By the time Coronado had reached the pueblos of the Zuni his men were starving. He ordered an attack on Háwikuh, the main pueblo, and simply took the villagers’ food stores.
Well before the Spanish reached them, however, the people of Pecos had heard of their powerful new weapons and had sent a peace delegation bearing buffalo robes as gifts. Fascinated by the robes, Coronado stopped his army at Pecos the following spring. The Spanish recorded that to them the Native name for the pueblo sounded like Cicuyé. They also recorded that the Towa speaking people of Jémez Pueblo called it something sounding like pecush. Keres speakers also referred to the pueblo by a similar name. Some believe that such words eventually became Pecos. Others claim that the name is derived from payokona, a Pueblo word meaning “place where there is water.”
At Pecos, Coronado was given a Plains Indian captive to guide him to the buffalo lands. Wandering as far as Kansas and finding no gold, the guide finally revealed that his true mission had been to force the Spanish to roam the plains until they gave up or died. Shortly thereafter the man was strangled. In 1542 Coronado and his army returned to Mexico City with little to show for their adventure.
Other Spanish expeditins passed through Pueblo lands but in 1598 a group led by Don Juan de Onate arrived in the area with the intention of building a settlement. Franciscan priests set about converting Pueblo people and conflicts arouse among the Spanish as to whether their labor was owed to the Church or the State.
Between 1617 and 1717 four successive churches were constructed at what became known as the mission of Nuestra Senora de los Angeles de Porciuncula. The largest of the churches, stretching 150 feet from the entrance to the altar, was completed in 1625. Destroyed during the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, it was replaced by a somewhat smaller building erected on its foundations.
Ruins of Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles de Porciúncula (click to enlarge)
To Pueblo people the idea of worshipping in such structures was as foreign as the belief in one God who controlled all of creation. At the pueblos ceremonials took place in underground kivas or in plazas open to the elements and centered on keeping the forces of Nature in balance. One of the most fascinating aspects of Pecos is a kiva that lies very close to the convento, the area used by the Franciscans for living, teaching, and work. According to Pueblo tradition the structure was built as an act of defiance in the late 1600s. However, there is evidence that it was constructed shortly after the church had been completed. Some archaeologists believe that the friars may have used this familiar setting to facilitate conversions but this theory is controversial. Since its earliest days, though, the Church has adopted non-Christian elements as its own (i.e. Germanic tree worship was transformed into the Christmas tree) and it has turned a blind eye to the blending of Catholic and Native traditions as can be seen in Guatemala and Brazil as well as in the use of kachina images to decorate the mission church at Zuni.
Ruins of the church, convento, and kiva at Pecos (click to enlarge)
Not far from the kiva is the foundation of a D-shaped torréon, all that remains of a watchtower built during the mid-1700s to protect the mission from Comanche and Apache raids. The mission settlements had disrupted delicate trade alliances and the Plains tribes, having obtained horses by various means from the Spanish, could now sweep down on the pueblos since they could no longer obtain what they wanted through trade. They also did so in retaliation for Spanish slave raids against their people.
Pecos was further assailed by epidemics of smallpox and other diseases as well as severe droughts and famine in the 1660s and 1760s. Continued divisions involving those loyal to the Spanish and those who wanted to return to traditional Pueblo ways may have also contributed to Pecos’ decline. By 1838 the site was abandoned. The last inhabitants, numbering less than thirty, migrated eighty miles east to Jémez Pueblo.
Like Abó, Gran Quivira, and Quarai, the pueblos of the Salinas Valley southeast of present-day Albuquerque, Pecos Pueblo had been a crossroad between the Great Plains and the Southwest and was eventually abandoned for the same reasons. Pecos, as well as the three southern pueblos that now make up Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument, were places where cultures not only clashed but also blended.
DIRECTIONS: Although located 25 miles southeast of Santa Fé, in order to reach Pecos National Historical Park you must take I-25 north to exit 299, the Pecos-Glorieta interchange and go east on NM 50 to Pecos village. Finally, turn right (south) onto NM 63 for 2 miles.
Albuquerque Ambling (February 2008)
BY E. J. GUARINO
Travelers to New Mexico often give Albuquerque short shrift, preferring to head almost immediately to Santa Fe and Taos. This is unfortunate since, in addition to the city’s museums and other cultural venues, Albuquerque makes an excellent base for a number of interesting day trips. One of the best is Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument.
Located a little over an hour southeast from Albuquerque, the monument is actually made up of three separate archaeological sites, Abó, Gran Quivira, and Quarai, each containing Pueblo and Spanish Mission ruins. The main visitor center, located in Mountainair, serves mostly as an orientation point while the three sites have more comprehensive centers, each with a small museum.
Ancestral Puebloans and Mogollon, forced to move because of drought and other pressures, were perhaps originally drawn to the area because of salt deposits. Since salt is essential to the human diet and one of only a few ways Native Americans once had of preserving food it became an important trade good. Journeys to nearby salt lakes held spiritual meaning and prayers were offered to Salt Woman to assure the continued supply of this important mineral. Descendants of the Ancestral Puebloans and Mogollon constructed Abó, Gran Quivira, and Quarai. The pueblos, and later the missions, of the Salinas or “salt” Valley served as cultural crossroads. Maize, beans, squash, piñon nuts, salt, turquoise, pottery, cotton cloth and shells were traded east to nomadic plains tribes who offered buffalo meat and hides as well as flint in return.
The Spanish were first drawn to the area by the hope of finding Quivira, a fabled golden city, which Coronado had sought in vain in 1540. Although they found no gold, the Spanish realized the importance of the salt and considered it one of the riches of New Mexico. Later, Franciscan friars arrived charged with the conversion of Native souls. (Of course, it hadn’t been that long ago that argument raged in Europe over whether or not New World Natives even had souls!)
Abó ruins
Abó, like the other sites, stands silent now but the visitor can easily imagine it teeming with the sounds of everyday life. Built on a red sandstone outcrop, the pueblo was on a trail leading to the Rio Grande Valley, giving it the advantage of being directly on the trade route between the pueblos and the plains. When the Spanish arrived in 1581 Abó was a thriving community. By the late 1620s a first church had been built at the pueblo and around 1670 a second, larger church was completed at what became known as the Mission of San Gregorio de Abó.
Quarai ruins
Quarai, called Cuarac in the 17th Century, was also a bustling community, carrying on a lively trade over long distance routes long before the Spanish entrada. Situated in a juniper forest, the site offered timber for building, game, and plentiful water from a spring-fed stream. By 1627 a mission, that of Nuestra Señora de la Purísima Concepción de Cuarac, was already under construction.
Pueblo ruins at Gran Quivira
Gran Quivira was the largest of the Salinas pueblos and although at first its people resisted the incursions of the Spanish they eventually reconciled themselves to the presence of these uninvited newcomers and were even influenced by them as seen by changes in their pottery forms. The Spanish recorded that the Native place name sounded like Cueloze. However, they called it Pueblo de los Humanos (also spelled Jumanos) because they believed a people they called Jumanos either lived at or traded with the pueblo. The terms Jumanos and Rayados, meaning “the stripped ones,” were used interchangeably and referred to lines the Natives either painted or tattooed on their faces, something unusual and, therefore, noteworthy to the Spanish. The mission that was built eventually came to be known as San Buenaventura de las Humanas. It was only in the late 1800s that the site came to be associated in the minds of locals with Coronado’s mythical Quivira and became Gran Quivira.
The Salinas Valley, once home to flourishing communities, was deserted by 1677 for a complex variety of reasons. The arrival of the Spanish had changed Pueblo life forever. In an attempt to eradicate Native religious practices kivas had been filled in and ceremonials forbidden. In addition, the people were exhausted from years of service required to support the missions. This labor often forced them to leave their fields unattended, resulting in a loss of food for their families. Between 1663 and 1670 the Pueblos were repeatedly faced with droughts and famine. Recurring epidemics, especially smallpox, took their toll as did constant warfare. The Apaches, once trading partners with the Salinas Pueblos, now swept down from the Plains to avenge Spanish raids that provided slaves to work their silver mines in northern Mexico. All of the “Salt Missions,” as they came to be known, were slowly abandoned, the Spanish returning to places like Santa Fe and the Pueblo people, once again forced to move by circumstances beyond their control, went to live at other pueblos, a case of earlier history repeating itself.
For modern visitors, especially collectors, Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument affords many insights into Native American culture, the Spanish Colonial Period, and much more. Trail guides and detailed signs at various points along the walkways offer a wealth of information as do the visitor centers (called contact stations) at each of the three sites. The centers have small museums hosted by park rangers. Each contains historical information as well as examples of lesser known pottery types such as Chupadero black-on-white ware, Tabirá black-on-white ware, Tabirá polychrome and Red Kotyití Glaze polychrome. Interestingly, some of the ollas have unusually angular shapes, not unlike a piece recently produced by contemporary Santo Domingo potter Helen Bird. As collectors, this should make us mindful that the objects we acquire are part of a long and ever-evolving culture.
DIRECTIONS: Take I-25 south from Albuquerque for 35 miles to Belen, then 18 miles on NM 47 to US 60 east for 13 miles to Abó. Mountainair is 9 miles farther on US 60. From Park Headquarters in Mountainair take NM 55 south 25 miles to Gran Quivira. To reach Quarai backtrack north on NM 55 for 33 miles. It is then 47 miles farther north to I-40 east to Albuquerque.
Art or NART (December 2007/January 2008)
BY E. J. GUARINO
By the middle of the 20th Century Native American art was facing a crisis. Quite a number of Native artists were creating “to the market place” and slavishly adhering to familiar expressions of ancient forms and designs, encouraged to do so by collectors and museum curators who mistakenly believed that doing so was a way of preserving what they thought was a dying culture. Of course, by the 1950s this was an outdated notion. Native American culture was far from becoming extinct. However, some artists were repetitively reproducing what collectors and museums expected. According to Cherokee artist and educator Lloyd Kiva New, this resulted in “an embalming.”
This was a new and unusual development. Native American art had always been innovative. Hopi artists, for example, were abstracting natural forms in their designs long before abstraction became synonymous with Modern Art.
The work of Pueblo icons Nameyo, Maria and Julian Martinez, and Lucy Lewis, which is now regarded as classic, was experimental and innovative at the time it was created. However, these artists drew inspiration from within their own cultural tradition: Nampeyo from fifteenth century Sikyatki forms and designs, Maria and Julian from black shards found in an excavation at San Ildefonso, and Lucy Lewis from Ancestral Puebloan pottery shards she found while walking around Acoma. Although these artists became famous, their exposure to mainstream American culture and the world beyond the pueblos was limited. Most of their contact was with archaeologists, anthropologists, curators, and tourists who came to the pueblos. Maria and Julian’s celebrity, for example, did take them far from the Southwest but it is said that the farthest Lucy Lewis ever traveled from her home was twenty miles. These artists had little if any formal education and they either learned pottery making from their elders or were self-taught. They also lived at a time when the mass media were in their infancy. This is in marked contrast to the current generation of Pueblo potters, many of whom have college degrees and are well traveled. They have been influenced by a multiplicity of sources including the media, in particular the Internet, so that their work frequently references Pop culture, social problems, and current events.
Lloyd Kiva New and others like him helped Native artists realize that they, like any artist, were free to draw inspiration from their own traditions or from any other artistic expression that sparked their creativity.
Noted Navajo potter Christine Nofchissey McHorse, for example, refuses to have restrictions of any sort placed on her work, claiming she draws inspiration from the entire world. The work of many other contemporary Native ceramic artists including Virgil Ortiz (Cochiti), Diego Romero (Cochiti), Alan E. Lasiloo, (Zuni), Anita Fields (Osage), Nora Naranjo-Morse (Santa Clara), Roxanne Swentzell (Santa Clara) and Jody and Susan Folwell (Santa Clara) are informed by multiple sources and are expanding accepted notions of traditional with regard to Native art. This is also true of Native artists working in other media as well: bead artist Teri Greeves (Kiowa), painter/sculptor Rick Bartow (Wiyot), weaver Florence Riggs (Navajo), and Gail Tremblay (Onondaga/Mi’kmaq) who makes traditional Iroquois baskets out of film stock. Scores of other Native artists are speaking through their art with strong voices that are unique and which challenge us to see Native art and the world in a new way.
For years now, the mainstream art market has been glutted with a vast array of works covering a wide spectrum of quality. Galleries and art fairs are filled to brimming with glitzy images of celebrities; sentimental paintings of animals playing poker; sculptures of nubile female nudes in quasi erotic, but tasteful poses; shimmering images of a small town America long gone (if it ever really existed); as well as scores of pseudo Impressionist and Surrealist works. Most of this material I classify as nart, a term meaning “not quite art,” “art, sort of,” or “art lite.” It is aimed at a mass audience and is based on name recognition, usually the result of a slick ad campaign filled with hyperbole. Nart never challenges us to think, nor does it force us to see things in a new way. It is always safe, comfortable, and familiar – the very things art shouldn’t be. It is the visual equivalent of elevator music.
For the most part, Native American art has avoided this dilemma because while it changes and expands it continues to expresses a culture with a long history. In fact, many people believe that the most exciting Contemporary Art is being produced by Native artists. In order for this to continue, these artists must feel free to experiment and to respond to the world they see. Although Nampeyo, Maria and Julian Martinez and Lucy Lewis all began by making traditional pottery in the age old way, their innovations expressed their unique voices. We must not forget that what is now regarded as classic was once startlingly new and daring.
The world has changed a great deal in less than a hundred years and we should not expect Native artists to reflect life as it was lived by their grandparents. They are American artists living in a modern world, not quaint primitives living in quiet isolation, as some might imagine them.
Native artists continue to become ever more daring. It is this quality that has allowed them to produce art rather than nart. As collectors we must support their efforts. To do otherwise would result in their creating work that is banal.
It's Not Where You Start (November 2007)
BY E. J. GUARINO
There’s a wonderful song in the Broadway musical Seesaw that contains the line, “It’s not where you start, but where you finish.” This sentiment also applies to collectors of Native American pottery. Every serious collector was once a novice.
Many people begin by simply buying pieces to decorate their home. It is only much later that it dawns on them that they do, indeed, have a collection. Often it is at that point that they become serious and have a much more focused approached to acquiring new pieces. Some collectors choose to specialize, collecting only works from a particular Pueblo or artist or they may limit themselves to historic pieces, eschewing contemporary works. Others collect eclectically, selecting an individual piece solely on its artistic merit and because it appeals to them regardless of Pueblo, artist, or time period. All of these approaches are valid as long as there is an underlying foundation of passion and knowledge, the two essential requirements for creating an important collection of Native American pottery.
Lack of knowledge or lack of wealth shouldn’t be a deterrent to starting a collection. However, a number of helpful tips for beginners can be summed up as the DIRECT plan.
Do the homework. Go to museums; take seminars; read books and
magazines. As much as you are able, educate yourself.
Identify artists whose work interests you. By “doing the homework” you
will discover which artists appeal to you. However, don’t be surprised if, over time, your tastes change.
Remember the L word. If there is a piece of pottery you covet but can’t
afford to buy outright, be sure to ask about putting it on layaway. Paying off pieces in installments over time allows collectors to acquire works that they would otherwise have to pass up.
Establish a collecting budget. Decide on a set amount that is put aside
each month to be used to buy pottery. Even small sums add up.
Consider collecting the work of emerging artists who are just beginning to
establish a reputation for their work. Pieces by such artists are generally quite affordable.
Talk to gallery staff, curators, as well as other collectors. They can offer a
wealth of information and may be willing to become a mentor.
Collecting is not simply about an investment of money but, more importantly, one of time and emotion. Serious collectors “live” their collection. They think about it, study it, research how it can best be improved, and seek advice. Doing so generally insures that a collection’s strengths will be maximized and its weaknesses, if not entirely eliminated, at least minimized.
With knowledge comes the confidence to follow the two most important dictums of collecting: Buy from the heart and buy the very best you can afford.
The Passionate Pilgrim (October 2007)
BY E. J. GUARINO
In order to build a great collection one thing is needed more than anything else: passion. With it much is possible; without it one is doomed to mediocrity. Great wealth does not guarantee a great collection, nor does the lack of it necessarily produce a poor one. It all depends on the passion of the individual collector.
A few years ago I visited a university museum that had been endowed by and named for a wealthy collector of modern and contemporary American paintings that make up a large part of the museum’s holdings. I brought along an artist friend of mine who is both knowledgeable and passionate about such art. After touring the museum I asked him what he thought of the collection and he responded, “Mediocre art by great artists.”
All of the figures in the established American canon were represented but none of the works was a masterpiece or even close to it. To put it bluntly, they just weren’t very good. It was as if the collector had gone down a checklist simply buying works by famous artists without regard to artistic quality, forgetting that not every piece by an artist, even a great one, is a major work. Clearly, the collection had not been built out of passion or love of the art. If ever a collector were in need of education and an art advisor, I thought to myself, this certainly was the man.
On the other hand, it was reported in the New York Times a few years ago that two New York City teachers had used their limited funds, passion for art, and collecting acumen to build a collection of some of the finest modern prints ever produced. They eventually donated their collection, which was appraised for millions of dollars, to a major New York museum.
Collecting is a pilgrimage. Along the way we not only amass works of art but, perhaps more importantly, we also meet new and interesting people who become friends and mentors. If we are passionate, our collections enrich our lives and those with whom we share them. Without passion the art we acquire may (or may not) swell our bank accounts but it will do little more.
A good example is that of a man from Los Angeles who, last year, bought up an entire wall of historic Santo Domingo dough bowls from a well-known Albuquerque gallery solely for investment purposes. The man had no desire to learn about the pieces. He knew that they would increase in value and that was all that interested him. He paid for the bowls, asked that they be held for him, and more than six months later had not contacted the gallery to have them shipped. Except for the monetary gain he will surely reap from his acquisitions, the man has received no pleasure from the artworks, nor has anyone else.
There is something wonderful and magical about living with an exquisite work of art and sharing its beauty with others. This is especially true of pottery, which begins as a simple lump of earth and is transformed by the hands of a gifted artist.
Whether or not we realize it, our personality, taste, and knowledge shape our collection so that it reflects (as it should) who we are. As collectors of Native American pottery we must avidly self-educate, taking opportunities to learn wherever and whenever they present themselves – museums, books, magazines, gallery staff and websites. The more informed we are the better choices we will make. We will become passionate pilgrims with an “eye” that is able to differentiate between the exceptional and the mediocre.
Ugly Duckling No More (September 2007)
BY E. J. GUARINO
Of all Southwestern Native pottery traditions, micaceous wares have suffered the least interference from well meaning outsiders. While archaeologists, anthropologists, and traders made suggestions to Nampeyo of Hopi, Maria Martinez of San Ildefonso, and Lucy Lewis of Acoma and others, they generally ignored the pottery of the Northern Pueblos because it was undecorated kitchenware, thought merely to be functional, having no artistic value.
The Northern Pueblos of Taos, Picuris, Nambé, Tesuque and, to a lesser degree, Pojoaque produced micaceous pottery along with painted wares since, at least, 1300 A.D. Influenced by the plain ware of their Jicarilla Apache neighbors after the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, the Northern Pueblos abandoned painted pottery for micaceous ware. Because it can be put directly on a flame and retains heat for a long period of time, micaceous pottery is superior for cooking; so much so that even in many contemporary Southwest Native homes it shares the stovetop with store bought pots and pans. In fact, many people insist that food cooked in micaceous pottery just tastes better. However, since such pieces are intended for use and not simply as decoration they generally lack refinement and are often considered crude. Interestingly, what Pueblo people have traditionally valued most about such pieces, their usefulness, lacked importance to tourists, collectors, and museums.
However, in 1992 one of Lonnie Vigil’s large micaceous pots took Best of Division at the Santa Fe Indian Market and collector’s, galleries, and museums took note. When one of Lonnie’s large micaceous black ware pieces was featured in Changing Hands: Art Without Reservation, an exhibition of avant garde Native American art, he was projected to another level of fame. Lonnie has been credited as the major force that took micaceous pottery from functional to fine art. Years ago, long before Lonnie Vigil had reached his current level of celebrity, I had the opportunity to acquire one of his pieces, but declined. The fault lay with me, not Lonnie’s work. That decision is one of the few regrets I’ve had in almost thirty years of collecting Native American pottery.
Because of Lonnie Vigil and others like him, micaceous pottery has thrown off its dowdy mantle of ugly duckling and has assumed its rightful place in the world of Pueblo pottery. Native artists from a wide range of tribes are currently working in the micaceous tradition. Some are using micaceous clay (a fact that is troubling to Taos and Picuris potters who claim exclusivity to the mica rich clay deposits of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains) and others are employing micaceous slips to coat their pots.
Preston Duwyenie (Hopi), for example, creates elegant micaceous slipped pieces in a variety of colors and shapes. Christine Nofchissey McHorse (Navajo) produces works that are so minimalist that they more closely resemble sculpture than pottery. Using an orange micaceous slip to enhance his pieces, Hubert Candelario (San Felipe) has become well known for his melon “swirl” pots, “puzzle” pots, whose designs resemble interlocking pieces of a puzzle, and his “holey” pots which seem to be more hole than pot. Pushing the boundaries of micaceous pottery in subtle ways, the work of Edna Romero (Santa Clara/Taos) in noted for its simplicity. She produces pots ranging in hue from various shades of orange to dazzling, large black pieces. In addition, Anthony Durand (Picuris), Melissa Talachy (Pojoaque), Myrtle Cata (San Juan/San Felipe), Angie Yazzie (Taos), Rose Naranjo (Santa Clara), Diane Calabaza (San Ildefonso), and Sheldon Nuñez-Velarde (Jicarilla Apache) are among the micaceous pottery artists whose work is now avidly sought after by galleries, collectors, and museums.
A Matter of Size (August 2007)
BY E. J. GUARINO
Just as it’s not a good idea to choose a book by its cover, a piece of pottery shouldn’t be judged solely on its size. However, some collectors pass up smaller, exquisite pieces for larger, inferior works because of a mistaken notion that big means they are getting more “bang” for their collecting dollars. Many are influenced by the “cult of large” and all that it entails: the belief that bigger is always better. This idea has become so entrenched that many museums have had to build special additions just to accommodate works of mainstream contemporary American art. True, a number of major artists such as Frank Stella, Chuck Close, Barnett Newman, and Richard Serra choose to work on a large scale. However, not every work need be “supersized” to be important. Who in their right mind, for example, would pass up a tiny Titian or a Persian miniature?
Some artists choose to work small because that is their vision. Their choice is no less valid than artists who elect to work large. For collectors, it is artistic quality that should be the deciding factor, not size. A small work can have a very large presence.
The miniature, once a popular collecting area in its own right, fell out fashion. However, a number of contemporary potters, such as Grace Medicine Flower, Dorothy Torivio, and Jennifer Moquino, have not only revived the form, but have given it new life. Rather than simply creating miniature versions of larger forms as was done in the past, these artists are breaking new ground, creating works which, though small, make a powerful impact.
Although Grace Medicine Flower produces works in a variety of sizes, some of her finest pieces have been done on a small scale. Coveted by collectors, Grace’s work is inventive, unique, and often incorporates a variety of techniques and colorations in a single creation as well as imagery from both the Mimbres and Pueblo traditions. The combination of unusual shapes, sgraffito, and deep carving produces works of visual complexity. However, Graces’ most breathtaking innovation is her ability to create the illusion that the clay forming a piece has been woven like a basket.
Like Grace Medicine Flower, Dorothy Torivio produces large and small- scale works, but many collectors believe that the optical illusions her bold graphics create reach their pinnacle in her miniatures. It is on such pots, some measuring only 2½” h x 2¾” w, that the visual virtuosity of the traditional patterns, created freehand, can fully be appreciated. These op art pots have been rightfully called “eye dazzlers.” They have a mesmerizing effect that would be amazing on a flat surface; the fact that such intricate and arresting designs must be made to swirl around the surface of a pot is astonishing!
Breaking with tradition in her own unique way, Jennifer Moquino re-creates the natural world in miniature. Her delicately shaped pots, some as large as 6½”h x 4½”w and others as small as 2”h x 1 5/8”w, teem with all manner of animal life – birds, butterflies, fish, frogs, bears, elk and more, giving such pieces a visual lushness. The creatures with which Jennifer populates her work are so carefully observed, so finely detailed, and so precisely carved and painted that they almost seem alive.
As collectors we should not assume that a large pottery piece is more important than a small one. Size is not the arbiter of artistic importance. Although large works often evoke adjectives such as “bold,” “powerful,” and “brave,” it may be more daring for an artist to go against the tide and work small. It is better to purchase a major small work than a minor large one.
Sometimes Less is More (June 2007)
BY E. J. GUARINO
As collectors we often limit our collections and ourselves by rigidly holding on to outmoded ideas of what is “authentic” and “traditional,” often unaware that less than 100 years ago such terms would not have applied to what are today accepted as classic Native pottery forms. The seed pot and the wedding vase, for example, were introduced forms. Even revival Mimbres and Sikyatki designs were suggested by Anglo archaeologists and anthropologists who thought they would appeal to white tourists.
In the past, pots with fire clouds were rejected out of hand by collectors who considered such marks caused during firing to be imperfections. Of course, the only way to guarantee that a pot will not have a fire cloud is to use a kiln but to purists that idea is anathema. Ironically, today there are collectors who seek out pots with fire clouds because what was once regarded as a flaw is now seen as a sort of imprimatur that the piece is authentic.
However, things change (albeit slowly) even in the world of Native pottery. Potters are demanding the same freedom long enjoyed by mainstream artists to experiment and push the boundaries of their art. Although many Native potters adhere to the old ways, others are choosing to break the rules by firing in a kiln, using acrylic paints or creating unusual forms. This has caused controversy among Native people and collectors alike. However, innovative pieces are not only being accepted, they are avidly sought after. This includes collectors for whom Native art is not their main focus.
Keeping an open mind allows our collections to expand in directions we would never have imagined. It is also important to remember that innovation need not always be obvious. Sometimes the subtlest experiments are the most daring.
Take, for example, the case of unpainted Hopi pottery. To some collectors the very idea is unacceptable. They simply turn up their nose and move on to traditional (there’s that word again), highly painted pieces. Until a few years ago I was just such a collector. Then I came upon a small, unpainted pot by Garrett Maho. Though I could not tear my eyes from it, I resisted buying it. However, something about the piece kept drawing me back until I finally did purchase it. I’ve never regretted my decision. I think the piece is exquisite. I am still drawn by its intrinsic beauty and by the subtle, yet daring experiment on the part of the artist. There is no decoration to distract the eye from any imperfections and it is a bold decision on the part of an artist to attempt such a pot. The piece is solely about form and hue - the perfection of shape and the delicate variations of yellow and orange known as the “Hopi blush,” produced by firing iron rich clay outdoors, using aged sheep dung.
Dorothy Ami also sometimes creates unpainted pots. Like Garrett, she is more widely known for her exceptional painting but some of her most interesting pots are plain ware pieces that achieve their beauty through simplicity of form, a “blush” that ranges from white to orange in a single pot, and polishing techniques that produce a textural quality.
Fortunately, the work of Garrett Maho and Dorothy Ami is still quite affordable, but it may not be for much longer.
Even artists who are known for more exuberant experiments, such as Susan and Jody Folwell, sometimes produce undecorated pots. Doing so is an artistic challenge since they consciously choose to limit their options. In essence, the potter must create more with a great deal less. Discerning collectors are embracing such pieces and their doing so is encouraging other potters to experiment in this direction.
E.J Guarino is an educator and collector who frequently writes and lectures about Native art and culture. His collection has been featured in Forms of Exchange: Art of Native Peoples from the Edward J. Guarino Collection at the Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, The Festive North, an exhibit of Inuit graphics at the McMichael Canadian Art Collection, and ASHOONA: Third Wave at the Art Gallery of Alberta. Mr. Guarino is available for presentations on Native American art, Inuit graphics, and Mata Ortiz pottery as well as on collecting strategies. He can be contacted at his E-mal address: EddGuarino@AOL.com. Please write the name of the article in the subject box.