gallery Online program:

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 not 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:

Hidden in Plain Sight: A Guide to New World Native Art in European Museums (July 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            Americans traveling to Europe are generally focused on things European – fashion, cuisine, churches, historic monuments and museums filled with centuries of the Continent’s great art.  It would probably come as a surprise, as it did to me, that European museums have vast and important holdings of New World Native art. 

            When Europeans first arrived in the Americas what they saw was so alien to them that they referred to these lands as the New World, which to them it was.  If we of the 21^st century discovered another planet teaming with life the shock would probably be the same as when Europeans encountered lands with vast stretches of forests, plains, prairies and deserts filled with animals and plants their eyes had never before beheld and beings who appeared to be human but spoke, dressed, and lived so differently that they were a bewilderment.  New World natives were so puzzling to Europeans that for an extended period of time theologians and philosophers debated whether or not they had souls and were, therefore, human.  In his 1550 treatise A Second Democritus: on the just causes of the war with the Indians, Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda, a Spanish humanist, philosopher and theologian, argued that New World Natives were “natural slaves.”  In response, Bartolomé de Las Casas, the first resident Bishop of Chiapas, Mexico, offered Defense Against The Persecutors and Slanderers of the Peoples of the New World Discovered Across the Seas. Eventually, it was decided that Indians, as they came to be called, were human – sort of – but needed to be Christianized and civilized.  That such a debate should have even taken place may seem shocking from a 21^st century perspective.  However, it should be remembered that until fairly recently the world was a much larger place.  In 1661, for example, an African king seeing a European doubted that he was human until the man stripped completely naked.  Even then he thought the man looked like a devil because of his extremely white skin.  (For more on this fascinating era see All Mankind Is One by Lewis Hanke.)

            Ironically, at the same time Europeans were destroying Native people (usually intentionally, sometimes unintentionally) they were also collecting examples of their material culture.  Many of the earliest Native objects reside in European museums, sent home to impress monarchs into funding further expeditions.  Often Native people were taken captive and presented in Europe as “exotics” along with examples of their cultures. 

            Over the centuries as European explorers, adventurers, mercenaries and scientists continued to penetrate and colonize the vast reaches of the New World they collected plant and animal specimens as well as examples of Native life.  Native holdings in European museums began as cabinets of curiosities or Royal Cabinets, collections of what were considered rare and exotic.  Such collections were ethnographic in nature and remain so in the modern European museum setting.  However, there are signs that things are slowly beginning to change.

            Most of the Native objects in European museum collections are the result of English, Spanish, French, Dutch, Portuguese and Russian colonialism.  That these countries would have large caches of American Indigenous objects is no surprise.  However, the New World connection of other countries such as Germany, Austria, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland, Hungary, the Czech Republic and the Vatican is more complex, circuitous and often unexpected.

            Two experiences provoked my curiosity about what treasure troves of Native art might be housed in the great museums of Europe.  One was seeing “ALASKA: Russian America,” an exhibit of very early Indian, Eskimo and Aleut objects drawn from the collections of the National Museum of Finland, presented at the Alaska State Museum in Juneau in 1992.  The other was visiting the Museum of the Americas in Madrid and the Barbier-Mueller Museum of Pre-Columbian Art in Barcelona.  Of course, that Spain should have New World Native materials was not unexpected but the rarity, quality and the early dates of the objects was astonishing.  On the other hand, the Alaska Native holdings of Finland were an outright shock that demanded further investigation.

In the early 1800s many Finns served in Alaska, then part of the Russian Empire, with the Russian American Company, among them Adolf Etholén.  The rich collection of early Alaska Native materials in Helsinki’s Museum of Cultures was collected between 1840 and 1845 by Etholén while in the employ of Russia.  The museum also has a large cache of objects from Mesa Verde “collected” by Finnish geologist Gustaf Nordenskiöld in 1891 as well as materials from the Gran Chaco and the Amazon that came from the collection of Rafael Karsten, a social anthropologist who traveled to South America to study Native groups.

Russia itself has a large repository of Native materials housed in the Peter the Great Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography in St. Petersburg, once the country’s capital.  Founded by Peter himself as a kunstkamera, or “art collection,” the museum was opened to the public in 1714 and contains Native objects collected from the early to late 1700s when the Russians explored the New World from the Aleutian Islands to California.  The museum contains many Aleut, Eskimo/Inuit, Athabascan, Northwest Coast and California Indian objects.  In the late 1800s the museum’s holdings were increased through exchanges with the National Museum of Copenhagen, the American Museum of Natural History in New York and the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.  This resulted in one of the richest Native North American collections in the world. 

Other Scandinavian nations besides Finland also have a wealth of New World materials.  The ethnographical collection of the National Museum of Denmark, for example, grew from the Royal Cabinet of Curiosities circa 1650.  The Arctic holdings were brought back to Denmark in the early 1900s by Knud Rasmussen (Inuit/Danish), a Greenlandic/Danish explorer, writer and lecturer.  The museum also has rare pre-Columbian artifacts as well as Prairie Indian costumes. 

Norway’s Historical Museum in Oslo also benefited from the contributions of explorers such as Roald Amundsen, who traveled in the Arctic and collected Netsilik Inuit materials, and Carl Lumholtz, an ethnographer who carried on meticulous field studies in central Mexico and Mesoamerica. 

On the other hand, the manner of acquisition for some Native objects in Sweden’s Ethnography Museum in Stockholm is not clear while for others it is.  Most people don’t know that from 1638 to 1655 Sweden had a New World colony, New Sweden, on the coast of what is now Delaware.  Then, in the 1800s Swedes such as Carl Hjalte Fredrik, who traveled to New Mexico and Arizona, and Armand Fouché d’Otrante, who crossed the Northern Plains, donated Native American objects they had collected to the museum.  Currently, the Ethnography Museum is mounting “First Nations of North America,” a new permanent exhibit that has as its goal to show a large number of objects in an eighty-two foot long display case in ten sections.  In addition, 130 objects from the museum’s extensive Northwest Coast holdings will be displayed in another part of the museum.  Although sections of the exhibition will have titles such as “To Be Educated White,” “Personal Narratives,” “Powwow,” “The Image of ‘The Others,’” and “Life on the Plains and in a Pueblo,” some aspects are troubling, especially statement’s in a press release which is quoted below.

    “Ethnographic museums are currently being discussed in relation to expansionism and colonialism.  Many people – not the least of                 whom representatives of Native America – place demands on museums to raise issues relating to their collections and exhibitions.

“When objects from Native America are to be exhibited in American and Canadian museums it often happens in collaboration with the ethnic group from which the objects originate.  The collections at the Ethnographic Museum are so extensive and varied in origin that the museum has decided to carry out the project on its own terms, albeit in consultation with accredited researchers.”

 Native people are to have no input with regard to this exhibition.  However, more disturbing is the attitude concerning culturally sensitive materials.  According to the same press release, although Native American people have criticized museums for displaying sacred objects a group of them will be exhibited anyway “to bring to light the problems surrounding a number of ‘charged’ objects and thus reflect a current international discussion.”

            However, the Rietberg Museum in Zurich, which is dedicated to non-European cultures, is one of the more progressive European museums to display New World Native art.  The Rietberg presents the objects in its collections as works of art rather than ethnographic specimens.  The core of the museum’s holdings came from Baron Edvard van der Heydt but grew from donations made by private collectors, corporate sponsors and foundations.  As an art museum, the Rietberg avoids the use of wall texts, lengthy labels, descriptive cards and TV screens.  Instead, visitors have access to an introductory brochure and audio guides.  The museum’s main New World focus is Mesoamerica and Peru but also exhibits artworks from the Arctic, the Pacific Northwest Coast and the American Southeast and Southwest.  A highlight of the museum is an Aztec (Mexica) stone sculpture of a rattlesnake taken back to Europe by German naturalist Alexander von Humbolt.  The Rietberg Museum also has a visible storage area which allows visitors to view 4,000 additional works of art. 

            Zurich’s Nordamerika Native Museum, also displays Native North American art.  Begun with the purchase of the Hotz Collection in 1961, the museum offers works from the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions as well as from the Northwest Coast, the Great Plains, the Prairie, the Northeastern Woodlands and the Southwest.  In addition, exhibits about contemporary Native American life are also presented.      

            Exhibits in German and Austrian museums might be considered a bit old fashioned in terms of presentation but they contain an abundance of materials and tend to avoid controversy. 

Berlin’s Ethnology Museum, for example, originated from the Cabinet of Art and Rarities in the 1600s that evolved into the Royal Prussian Art Cabinet.  Objects in this museum are unusual and beautifully displayed. 

The State Museum of Ethnology in Munich, second only in size to Berlin’s museum, houses exquisite pre-Columbian textiles from South America as well as a Hawaiian feathered cloak circa 1820 and a painted Pawnee bison cloak from 1903 among its many treasures.

Anyone visiting Austria should make a point of visiting Vienna’s Museum of Ethnology, which grew from donations made by the Imperial House of Hapsburg and diplomats as well as through purchases and exchanges.  Objects collected from Arctic peoples by Captain James Cook, a spectacular feathered headdress (which may or may not have been worn by Montezuma) and many other rare examples of Aztec feather work are on exhibit.  The Museum’s South American holdings cover the continent’s incredible diversity of Native cultures, particularly the Andes and Amazonia.  Of particular interest to Americans are objects from the Schwarz and Klinger Collections.  Johann Georg Schwarz was a Viennese fur trader who collected examples of Native American material culture from the Great Lakes area.  Joseph Klinger, another fur dealer, collected Plains-Ojibwa objects, which were donated to the museum in 1825.  The pieces in the Klinger Collection are considered the oldest Plains-Ojibwa objects in the world but they reside in Austria!

Between 1874 and 1918 many Native New World artworks originally held in Vienna’s Royal Court Museum made their way via a complex network to Hungary, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire which commissioned war ships to collect Native materials from the United States, Mexico, Columbia and Peru.  These objects eventually became part of what is today the Néprajzi Museum in Budapest.

Long considered two of Europe’s most important repositories of art, the British Museum in London and the Louvre in Paris now both exhibit Indigenous New World art. 

Among the British Museum’s vast holdings are some of the earliest Native objects from North America dating back 8,000 years.  Rare Aztec and Maya works from Mesoamerica are also on view.

Long considered a bastion of the Western art cannon, the Louvre has finally opened its doors to non-European art.  When most of the holdings in the Museum of Man were transferred to the new Quai Branly Museum, 108 masterpieces from around the world, many from the Americas, were selected to be exhibited in the Louvre’s Pavillon de Sessions, not as ethnographic examples but as works of art.  These galleries are a satellite of the Quai Branly Museum, which will house the majority of non-European artworks held in Paris.

Although most European museums continue to present New World Native materials ethnographically rather than as works of art, it should be remembered that such institutions were founded (many a hundred or more years ago) as ethnographic museums and still function as such.  Even in the United States, it remains rare for Native objects to be presented simply as works of art, not examples of a culture.  Also, U.S. cultural institutions did not begin to collect Native materials until well into the 1800s.  The very earliest examples of New World Native cultures reside in European museums because from the beginning of the Conquest Native objects were collected and taken to Europe.   However, it is important to be able to see rare and early works of Native art no matter what the setting and Europe’s premier museums off savvy travelers many opportunities to do so. 

 MUSEUM WEB SITES:

For The Record:  Documenting Native Life Through Art  (June 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            Native artists have always documented and commented on the world they saw around them.  They often did so in such artful or abstract ways that outsiders failed to see or understand what was right in front of their eyes.  In the 1880s, for example, potters at Cochiti Pueblo produced monos, ceramic figures that recorded and parodied the new people coming into Pueblo lands.  However, much to the delight of the Cochiti, the people who were being lampooned never realized that they were being ridiculed.  In more recent times, documentation has become less subtle as artists address a wider audience and use a broader range of artistic media.   

Since ancient times pottery making has been a major art form for Pueblo people. Long before the arrival of Europeans, the Hohokam, Ancestral Puebloans, Mogollon, and, in particular, the Mimbres were creating masterpieces of ceramic art.  In addition to producing works with wildly abstract imagery, the Mimbres created pottery that documented their lives.  It is through their detail rich imagery that we know much about this ancient culture since they left no written records.  Similarly, modern Pueblo ceramic artists document Pueblo life.  Lois Gutierrez de la Cruz, for example, created a large polychrome jar depicting Pueblo dancers.  It is at once a record of a Native ritual and a window into traditional Pueblo customs for outsiders.  

  Polychrome jar with three Pueblo dancers by Lois Gutierrez de la Cruz,

Santa Clara/Pojoaque, 9¼” x 9” (2002) Collection of E. J. Guarino

The Iroquois also documented their culture through art, especially through corn husk dolls.  Many of these dolls were made for the tourist trade at the turn of the last century though others were made as toys for Iroquois children.  Travelers to such popular destinations as Niagara Falls bought the dolls as souvenirs of their trip and they were often displayed in curio cabinets or an “Indian room” in a wealthy home.  By custom, the dolls did not have a face because they were meant to teach a lesson, which was totally missed by tourists who purchased them.  According to tradition, the first doll was given to the Iroquois people by the Creator in response to Corn Spirit’s desire to do more for her people.  This doll traveled from village to village and because of the reaction to her beautiful face she became extremely conceited.  One day while she was admiring her own reflection in a pool of water the Creator sent a great screech owl to whisk away the reflection as punishment for her vanity.  To this day, whenever the Iroquois make corn husk dolls they leave the face blank to remind children not to become filled with their own self-importance.  However, some historic corn husk dolls do have crude faces that appear to have been drawn on with pencil.  This may have been done to make the pieces more marketable to White tourists or the faces may have been added at a later date by their non-Iroquois owners.  Sometimes corn husk dolls are just that – no more than corn husk.  However, those that are most prized document traditional Iroquois clothing.  Female dolls, probably the most common, often wear beautifully beaded jackets, skirts, leggings, and moccasins.               

Corn husk doll, artist unknown, Iroquois, 13” tall; corn husk, grey, black and red cloth, beads, (c. 1880s)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Some of the most detailed records of Native life can be found in Navajo pictorial rugs.  Although there are many styles of Navajo rugs, the pictorial remains one of the most popular.  The Navajo are thought to have learned weaving from Pueblo people and also, perhaps, from their Spanish-speaking neighbors sometime in the 1700s.  Not only did they absorb this craft, they excelled at it, raising it to an art form.  Pictorials, rare before World War II, were more frequently made in the late 1940s onward and became extremely popular with collectors beginning in the 1970s.  Contemporary weaving artists such as Florence Riggs not only record what they see using woolen yarn as their “paint,” they often make satiric comments as well.  The viewer is presented with a vision of life from the Navajo perspective.  Pictorials especially delight collectors when they reflect the changes wrought by contemporary culture.  Often they show trains, cars, planes and modern houses along with hogans (the traditional Navajo dwelling), sheep and cattle.  Some rugs even include images of TV sets.       

Miniature pictorial rug by Lula Brown, Navajo, 3 1/8”h x 3¾”w, excluding fringe (2009)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            The Wixarika of Mexico, more commonly known as Huichol, record their customs in what are called yarn paintings – images created by impressing strands of yarn into bee’s wax spread onto wood.  The roots of Wixarika art are shamanistic and, among Mexico’s Native groups, they have resisted the influence of the outside world the longest.  The Wixarika are also noted for covering three dimensional objects with exquisite beadwork.  Recently, Neikame (José Carrillo Morales), a contemporary Wixarika artist, has combined watercolor (a decidedly non-traditional medium) with beadwork to create mixed media paintings that have a three dimensional quality.    

Los Peyoteros, mixed media painting on cardboard by Neikame (José Carrillo Morales),

Huichol, Mexico, acrylic paints, beads; 11”h x 14”w (2007)  

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            In Los Peyoteros, for example, the artist documents the annual pilgrimage to Wirikuta, a sacred site.  To reach it, the pilgrims must cross scorching deserts as indicated by the fiery orange sky.  This trip is one of the most important events of the year.   Along the way, peyote, a plant with hallucinogenic properties is collected.  Eaten during religious ceremonies, the Wixarika believe it allows them to communicate with their ancestors to ask for good crops and success in hunting.  In the painting the artist highlights the peyoteros’ hatbands and a swath of cloth over the shoulder of one of the pilgrims with beads.    

            Documenting Inuit life has been a major theme in the modern Inuit graphic tradition since its inception in the middle of the 20^th century.  Inuit refer to non-Inuit, in particular Whites, as kabluna (also written as kabloona) or gallunaat in Inuktitut, their native language.  The term may come from a word meaning “body hair” since the outsiders the Inuit saw had considerably more hair in the form of beards and mustaches as shown in the print titled Kabluna.  The two White men are also shown smoking pipes, something that would be of note to the Inuit since it was White men who introduced tobacco into the Arctic.  

Kabluna by Marion Tuu’luuq; Printer: Irene Avaalaaqiaq Tiklallaq,

stonecut & stencil, #24, Inuit, Baker Lake, 9.5” x 12.5" (1984) 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Although he is perhaps best known as the “Audubon of the North,” Kananginak Pootoogook, one of the greatest Inuit artists, also produced a series of drawings documenting often troubling aspects of Inuit life.  Less widely known, many of these works are, nonetheless, masterpieces.  In Trying to Sell or Trade for Tea and Other Stuff, for example, Kananginak shows an Inuk offering articles of clothing to a priest in exchange for goods.  Often Inuit were encouraged to rid themselves of the “old ways” and tea, tobacco and other items were used as a sort of “bribe” to get them to do so.  It is an aspect of Inuit history that is relatively unknown.  Usually, the view of life in the Arctic presented to the outside world is one that is benign – wildlife, landscapes and scenes of life as it was lived on the land.  Controversy, especially with regard to prints, is usually avoided.  That, however, is changing and has mostly been fueled by provocative drawings, something that began with Kananginak and his relative Napachie Pootoogook.   

Trying to Sell or Trade for Tea and Other Stuff by Kananginak Pootoogook,

pencil crayon and ink, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 19 ¾”h x 26”w (2001). 

Artist’s inscription: "Trying to sell or trade for tea and other stuff." 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Earlier in his career, Kananginak subtly showed how Inuit people were objectified by White outsiders in The First Tourist.  In this print he depicts a blonde haired man photographing an Inuit who is holding an animal skin and standing in front of an inukshuk, a manmade stone landmark.  That the scene is clearly posed is indicated by the “tourist’s” extended arm.

The First Tourist by Kananginak Pootoogook, lithograph, #15, 23/50,

Cape Dorset, 22¼”” x 28” (1992)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Recently, Kananginak produced two monumental drawings of a size never before attempted by an Inuit artist.  In Untitled (Successful Walrus Hunt) the artist has chosen to document an important aspect of traditional Inuit life.  The scene is rich in details and, because of its enormity, immediately commands the viewer’s attention.  Clearly, Kananginak felt that the activity he recorded was so significant it needed to be shown on a large scale.  The drawing is at once powerful and intimate, taking on an almost cinematic quality.  It also contains a self-portrait.  The figure seen hanging over the side of the boat looking for other sea mammals to hunt is Kananginak.       

Untitled drawing by Kananginak Pootoogook, colored pencil & ink, Inuit,

Cape Dorset, 48” x 96” (2009).  Inscription: “Successful walrus hunt.” 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Collecting bird’s eggs has been an important food source for the Inuit.  Although they were brought in off the land to live in permanent communities in the mid-twentieth century because of famine, the Inuit still rely on traditional foods such as fish, whale, seal and birds eggs.  In Climbing to a Nest of Eggs Janet Kigusiuq not only documents this aspect of Inuit life she uses her art to create a semi-abstract work, reflecting the many hues of the Arctic landscape.

Climbing to a Nest of Eggs by Janet Kigusiuq, pencil crayon, Inuit,

Baker Lake, 22” x 30” (2000)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Born in 1958, Kavavaow Mannomee did not experience a nomadic lifestyle as previous generations of Inuit had.  However, although snowmobiles and other aspects of modern technology are evident in the Arctic, some aspects of traditional life remain.  In Hunting Seals Going by Boat, Mannomee presents a seal hunt in minute detail.  In a review of the artist’s work for Canadian Art magazine, critic Lloyd Dykk said about Mannomee’s work, "There is almost something surreal about Mannomee's attention to detail. . . ."

Hunting Seals Going by Boat (diptych) by Kavavaow Mannomee, Inuit, Cape Dorset, ink,

each panel, 8”h x 26”wide (2007) Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Inuit artists have also recorded the changes that have occurred as the outside world made ever more of an impact on Inuit lives.  In Four Generations by Pitaloosie Saila, the artist depicts three Inuit women.  The figure on the left is wearing traditional clothing.  The middle person’s garments are somewhat less so and the woman on the right is wearing a Western-style hat.  Adding to the charm of the print is the fact that, although the title indicates four generations, most people find only three.  Pitaloosie has slyly hidden the fourth generation in plain sight - a child peeking out from the amautik (parka) of the woman on the right.  It is the usual way Inuit mothers carry small children.     

Four Generations by Pitaloosie Saila, lithograph, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 26” x 35½,”

Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection, #15, edition of 50, (1998) 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Also, in the print Strange Ladies Pitaloosie reveals an aspect of Inuit life that became quite common in the middle of the 20^th century.  Inuit were sent south to large Canadian cities to be treated for tuberculosis, a disease feared then as much as AIDS is today.  The reference is subtle because it is by implication, recording what to a northern visitor to southern Canada would seem most odd – the clothing of the people.  Pitaloosie shows three women that would have been encountered – a women wearing a stylish hat, a nun and a nurse.  

Strange Ladies by Pitaloosie Saila, lithograph; Printer: Niviaksie Quvianqtuliaq, 36/50, Inuit,

Cape Dorset, 22.5”w x 15”h, Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection #32 (2006) 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Sometimes Native people record episodes which, though seemingly unimportant to outsiders, have had a major impact on a community.  The sinking of the S. S. Nascopie was just such an event.  This steamer had been used by the Hudson’s Bay Company as a supply ship since the beginning of the last century, delivering provisions throughout the Far North.  In 1947 it hit a reef off Cape Dorset but did not immediately sink.  The community spent a great deal of time removing the ship’s contents before it was lost.  For people who received goods from the outside world only once a year, the ship’s loss on July 22, 1947 was historic.  It was clearly etched into the mind of Napachie Pootoogook who created a print documenting the incident which became so much a part of the history of the community that her niece Suvinai Ashoona referenced it in the print Low Tide (the middle ship bears the name Nascopie) and made it the subject of a drawing, Red Nascopie.

Nascopie Reef by Napachie Pootoogook, Inuit,  Low Tide by Suvinai Ashoona, Inuit,  Cape  Dorset, lithograph, Ed. 3/50, 17”h x 19w,             Dorset, etching & aquatint, Ed. 19/50, Cape(1989)   Dorset Annual Print Collection #30 (2003)

 Collection of E. J. Guarino

Red Nascopie by Shuvinai Ashoona,

ink, pencil crayon, Inuit, Cape Dorset,

13” x 15” (2006/07)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Following in the tradition of her uncle Kananginak and her mother Napachie, Annie Pootoogook unflinchingly records scenes of contemporary Inuit life on paper.  The Homecoming, a 2006 print, captures a moment in time.  Family and friends, a range of emotions reflected on their faces, surround a man holding a baby.  Near him stand a woman and a toddler.  Is this the arrival of a newborn, the return of a sick child or a visit from distant relatives?  Part of the work’s pleasure is that it is open to interpretation.

The Homecoming by Annie Pootoogook, etching & aquatint; Printer: Studio PM, 36/50, Inuit, Cape Dorset,

36.5”w x 31.5h”; Plate size: 26.5”w x 20.5”h; Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection #2 (2006)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Similarly, Tzu’tujil Maya artist Ottoniel Chavajay faithfully commits to canvas many aspects of his culture.  In The Coffee Harvest the artist carefully records a culturally and economically important activity, the collecting of coffee beans.  However, the painting is more than historical documentation.  It pulses with a sense of movement, making the busy energy of the coffee pickers palpable.  From whatever perspective the work is viewed it has a mesmerizing quality.  Though the painting is clearly representational, standing back from the scene it appears to transform into an abstract work of lines, swirls and colors.  Best known for what have been termed his “aerial views,” Ottoniel Chavajay also does highly expressive portraits of people in his community, landscapes and scenes of traditional Tzu’tujil life. 

The Coffee Harvest by Ottoniel Chavajay, oil on canvas,

Tzu’tujil Maya, San Pedro La Laguna, Sololá, Guatemala, 16“h x 20 “ (2009)

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            There are many aspects to Native art not the least of which is that it often documents the lives of Native peoples.  Unfortunately, for much of the last century art produced by Native people was mostly valued for its ethnographic importance rather than its artistic merit.  Today such a view is less prominent.   However, the work of non-Native artists has always been viewed differently.  Toulouse-Lautrec, for example, recorded many aspects of the Parisian demimonde around the turn of the last century but rarely, if ever, is his art studied from an ethnological perspective.    Set in a broader context, art that records the world as seen through Native eyes can add a greater depth to one’s understanding and appreciation of Native art and culture but, although such a subject is fascinating, it should be understood that it is only one part of the Native art tradition.  While any art can be looked at through an ethnographic lens, the true impact of Native art, like all great art, is visual and emotional.        

ON-LINE EXHIBIT OF NATIVE ART AT VASSAR COLLEGE

“’Design in Living Things’: Native Works from the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center”

Students in Art 284, “A Different Way of Seeing: The Art of Native North America,” taught by Professor Karen Lucic have produced an on-line exhibition, drawing almost exclusively upon donations from the Edward J. Guarino Collection to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center. The exhibit presents fifteen works ranging from a nineteenth-century Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) beaded bag to contemporary Pueblo pottery.  Although the makers of these objects intended them for sale, the works remain authentic.  Each of the objects selected demonstrates the Native makers’ ability to transcend boundaries and live in multiple worlds simultaneously. 

The fifteen students in Art 284 are a diverse group, representing freshman to seniors; numerous majors (Art, Environmental Studies, American Culture, Anthropology, English, Biology, and Psychology); some with Native ancestry, the majority non-Natives drawn to an enriching project of cross-cultural learning and exchange. According to Professor Lucic, “We had the help of numerous experts, including some of the makers themselves, and we puzzled over various challenges. Should we include a ceremonial basket that some members of the Diné (Navajo) nation deem inappropriate for display? Out of respect for community priorities, we decided ‘no.’ Once we discovered that a man’s outfit (reputedly Oneida) was not Indian-made, we pondered if it should remain in the exhibition. Ultimately, we kept it as a cautionary example of the widespread practice of ‘playing Indian’ in American society.” The students and Professor Lucic also realized that some objects under consideration for this exhibit had many sources of information while other forms, such as Algonquin birch bark containers, languish virtually unexamined.

The title of the exhibit is taken from the words of famed Pueblo potter Popovi Da:

“There is a design in living things; their shapes, forms, the ability of live, all have meaning. We must cling to our Indian traditions which exalt beauty.”

Below is a link to the exhibit:   

http://artcourses.vassar.edu/designinlivingthings

Open A New Window  (May 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Open a new window,
Open a new door,
Travel a new highway,
That's never been tried before;

                                                                                                                                      Mame

While visiting the Hopi Mesas a few years ago I went into one of the galleries and was admiring a wonderfully asymmetrical piece of Hopi pottery when a female staff member came up to me and told me that the piece was by White Swan.  I mentioned that I had a piece by her in my collection and that I had briefly met her years before at the Heard Indian Market but that I did not remember what she looked like.  The woman then put out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m White Swann.”  We both laughed and then I asked her to tell me about the unusual piece I had been admiring.   In the course of our conversation, the artist confided to me that while she was making it her mother happened to walk by and chided her saying, “Why are you wasting clay?”  Although such criticism must have stung, White Swan followed her unique vision and completed the pot.

            Native artists are frequently pigeonholed and have to contend with biases and misconceptions about Native art.  Many people have strong opinions about what Native art is and what it should or should not do.  Often such ideas are based on assumptions of what is or is not “traditional.”  However, according to Truman Lowe, (Ho Chunk), who is an author, artist, educator and curator . . . “in order for a tradition and a culture to survive, it has to change.”  Objects made by Native Americans have always been a means of individual expression though in the past this was communicated in extremely subtle ways.  Long before ceramic pieces were signed, for example, potters had distinctive styles and today scholars can often identify pieces as having been created by the same hand.

            Unfortunately, art created by Native people is usually not seen as part of the larger American art cannon.  However, Native art had a major influence on important artistic movements of the 20^th century such as Surrealism, Art Deco, Abstract Expressionism and Pop Art.  According to artist, author and educator Gail Tremblay (Onondaga/Mi’kmaq), “Native artists have actually invented contemporary movements in American Art as well as influencing it but they leave the Native artists out when they talk about the major movements in contemporary art.”

Now, however, more and more Native artists are seeing themselves for what they really are – contemporary American artists who are Native American.  They are openly using their art as a means of expressing their individualism, refusing to be confined to a “Native niche”.  They are opening new windows and doors by experimenting with “non-traditional” forms and media and expanding the boundaries of their art by incorporating non-Native imagery into their work, re-interpreting the concept of “traditional” and challenging collectors, curators and museum-goers to see the world through Native eyes.  By doing so, these men and women risk censure from their own communities (the most powerful pressures to conform often come from one’s own group, especially the family) and rejection from galleries and collectors.  In general, collectors are a notoriously conservative lot and artists are well aware of this fact.  Whether we are willing to admit it or not, the marketplace is a factor and few artists can afford to produce work that will not appeal to their collector base.  In order to negotiate this issue, some artists alternate between creating works they know are saleable with those that are wildly experimental.       

Water jar by Lisa Holt & Harlan Reano, Cochiti & Santo Domingo; 8"w x 9.25"h (2009). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Lisa Holt & Harlan Reano are among the most experimental contemporary Pueblo potters.  Although their pots are constructed using traditional techniques, they are decorated with decidedly unusual imagery.  Some are variations of classic designs; others are wholly original or inspired by non-Native influences. 

I already owned a piece by Holt and Reano when I came across a pot that appeared to me to be a cross between an optical illusion and a unique take on the “eye-dazzler” style of pottery painting, which Dorothy Torivio (Acoma) made famous.  The water jar is an ancient Pueblo pottery form which the artists created using native clays and paint made from wild spinach.   However, the geometric lightning patterns painted on the neck and near the base as well as the panels of water designs in the center are contemporary (some might say “radical”) interpretations of classic Cochiti and Santo Domingo imagery.  One look and I knew this pot would make a perfect addition to my collection.  Although some collectors might consider the way in which Holt and Reano decorate their pots to be edgy, they are highly sought after because they are elegantly formed, larger than most contemporary potters are willing to attempt and their precise painting makes them both delicate as well as dramatic.

Canteen by Nathan Begaye, Hopi/Navajo; 4.5”w x 3.75h (2002).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

         The canteen is another classic pottery form but in the hands of an artist such as Nathan Begaye it is given a modern twist.  Here Begaye seems to paying homage to tradition while at the same time thumbing his nose at it.  The piece was fired black and then cloud patterns were incised into the front.  These same patterns can be seen on the gray handle which was attached to the canteen, marking it as part of the artist’s “reconstructed” series of ceramic vessels. 

Contrary to what one might expect, Nathan Begaye’s “reconstructed” pots are highly coveted.  Such pieces seem to be re-assembled from what appears to be shards.  The impression is that the vessel has been broken and put back together, probably a clever reference to the reconstruction of ancient pottery by archaeologists.  What I find intriguing about this series is that through these so-called reconstructed pots the artist is actually deconstructing the pottery form.  This would be daring for any ceramic artist to do but it is even more shocking, perhaps even sacrilegious, when done by a Native potter for whom pottery making is a sacred process involving strict rules and prayers to Mother Clay.

Begaye works in a variety of styles and takes inspiration from any and all sources.  His pots are most often asymmetrical and may or may not be painted since he is more interested in form than in design.  He has created bulbous re-interpretations of the classic water jar, V-shaped bowls, cylindrical ceramic bottles and oddly phallic looking pieces, a shape that is definitely not part of the Pueblo pottery cannon.  Collectors find his work exciting because they never know what to expect.  He is constantly experimenting and seeking new ideas.

Black sculptural seedpot form by Susy Martinez, Mata Ortiz, Mexico,

black sculptural seedpot form by Susy Martinez, Mata Ortiz, Mexico,  7¾”h x 4½”w (2009/10) Collection of E. J. Guarino

In a recent work, Mata Ortiz potter Susy Martinez also deconstructs the pottery form in her own unique way.  She has taken the seed pot, which is also sometimes referred to as a seed jar, to an extreme.  In her highly polished version, which looks like a black teardrop, the artist has placed the vent on the bottom, allowing her to close the top and bring it to a sharp, slightly asymmetrical point that gives the work a sculptural quality.  To date, no other Mata Ortiz artist has deviated from the “norm” in this way.  Usually seed pots, such as the example below, have a small opening on the top which functions as the pot’s air vent or “mouth.” 

Miniature seedpot by Angel A. Martinez, Mata Ortiz, Mexico, 1“h x 2“w ( 2006-07).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

             As one of the most well-know and exciting contemporary Native artists, Virgil Ortiz has not only produced a diverse body of work but one which contains a large share of controversial pieces, not only because of form but also because of subject matter.  Drawing on the Cochiti tradition of ceramic figures called monos, which in earlier times caricatured Hispanics, Caucasians, and Navajos as well as Mexican circus performers, Virgil Ortiz has created a series of contemporary works in his own unique style.

Seated figure by Virgil Ortiz, Cochiti, 10”w x 15”h (2009).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

  Sometimes covered with swirling tattoo-inspired designs, Ortiz’s figures are rock stars, drag queens, clowns, saints, sinners and sometimes gender-bending characters sporting S & M fetish attire.  Ortiz’s figures have the power to shock and anger the viewer as well as the ability to provoke laughter.  Deeply rooted in Pueblo traditions, they offer pointed social commentary.  Ortiz has taken a form once considered tourist art and raised it to fine art through his intelligence, wit, and exceptional craftsmanship. 

            Arctic Landscape (Sky, Land, Water), abstract by Janet Kigusiuq, paper collage,

Inuit, Baker Lake, 22½” x 30” (1999). Collection of E. J. Guarino

Throughout her career Janet Kigusiuq created visually arresting prints and drawings that focused on traditional life lived on the land, Inuit mythology and the Arctic landscape.  She produced representational as well as abstract and semi-abstract graphics and was open to new media.  Late in her career she was introduced to collage, which allowed her to work quickly and spontaneously, resulting in some of her most vibrant creations.  Kigusiaq became increasingly more daring, experimenting with color and abstraction as well as exploring the transparent and opaque qualities of collage.  She continued to strike out in new artistic directions much as Monet did with his water lily paintings, Mattise with his cut outs and Picasso with his bold, almost garish, mosquetero paintings when they were near the end of their lives. 

Although in the popular imagination the Arctic is often thought of as monochromatic, the colors in Arctic Landscape (Sky, Land, Water), taken from Nature, splash across the page and seem to glow with an inner light.  Kigusiuq’s collage is thoroughly contemporary and clearly the work of a mature artist who is fully in control of her medium.  Certainly, the term “primitive” cannot be applied to it.  In the course of her career, Kigusiuq’s drawings evolved from narrative works with only touches of color to vividly hued semi-abstract and abstract pieces culminating in her polychromatic abstract collages that seem to pulsate in Technicolor.  However, even late in her life Kigusiuq alternated between drawings with figures and abstract works.      

Two Seasons by Itee Pootoogook, lithograph on BFK Rives grey, Printer: Niviaksie Quvianaqtuliaq, 36/50, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 11”h x 33”w, Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection # 3 (2008).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Unlike Janet Kigusiuq, Itee Pootoogook reduces the Arctic landscape to sharply angular forms and color.  In Two Seasons, for example, the artist conveys a great deal through the use of stark geometric shapes and a limited palette.  Pootoogook abstracts the land, sea, and sky into form and hue, deftly capturing the austere nature of the Far North with triangles as well as suggesting the differences between summer and winter through the use of yellow and blue.  Furthermore, the size and shape of the work (an eleven inch high by thirty-three inch wide rectangle, unusual for Inuit prints) convey the Arctic’s vastness.  Pootoogook seems fascinated with this minimalist reduction of the Arctic landscape to a few geometric shapes and colors.  He has produced other prints as well as quite a number of drawings in this style.     

Brief Case by Annie Pootoogook, lithograph on BFK Rives cream paper; Printer: Niviaksie Quvianaqtuliaq, 38/50; Inuit, Cape Dorset, 17”h x 17”w, Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection #1 (2005).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

Of the younger generation of Inuit artists, Annie Pootoogook is, perhaps, the most modernist in outlook.  She has produced prints and drawings chronicling contemporary Inuit life as well as works in which everyday objects such as eyeglasses, scissors, pill bottles, bras, men’s clothing and underwear are presented as still life.  Often such works reveal Pootoogook’s playful sense of humor. In Brief Case, for example, not only is the title a witty play on words but the bright pastels, reminiscent of Pop culture and advertising, force the viewer to reconsider stereotypical ideas about the Inuit, as well as Native people in general, from the point of view of an insider.  Since many non-Inuit, including collectors, are stuck in a construct of life in the Arctic as it was lived in the past, this work is quite startling.       

Seal Gut by Siassie Kenneally, colored pencil and ink, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 20”h x 26”w (2006). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Siassie Kenneally’s work has only recently appeared in galleries but has already caught the attention of collectors and curators.  Although clearly influenced by her cousins Annie Pootoogook and Shuvinai Ashoona as well as by older Cape Dorset graphic artists, Kenneally has her own distinct style.  Her landscapes, for example, present aerial views which, though they appear at first glance to be abstracts, are actually detailed drawings focusing on specific areas around Cape Dorset.  Also, because of her unique vision, Kenneally is able to transform the gross into the beautiful.   For example, in Seal Gut the artist has done more than just give us a radically modern still life from a Native point of view which forces the viewer to contemplate the possibility of beauty where we would normally not even deign to look – an animal’s internal organs.  That alone would have been revolutionary but, additionally, Siassie Kenneally slyly uses realism in an abstract way, giving Seal Gut a somewhat surrealistic quality as well.  

Daughters of the Corn, yarn painting by Neikame (José) Carrillo Morales, Huichol,

yarn, beads, watercolor, beeswax, plywood, 11¾”h x 11¾”w (2006).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

Like the Inuit, the Huichol Indians of Mexico were once isolated from the outside world.  However, change for the Huichol has come much more recently.  It is only within the last twenty years that they have become engaged with the world beyond their remote villages in the Sierra Madre Mountains.  Encouraged by patrons such as Kevin Simpson, owner of the Peyote People Gallery in Puerto Vallarta, many artists have begun to explore new subject matter as well as non-traditional media. 

The roots of contemporary Huichol art can be traced to shamanism and the ritual use of peyote.  Considered a sacrament, the mushroom-like crown of the plant (referred to as a button) is chewed, brewed into a tea or rolled into a pellet and swallowed.  Doing so produces visions which became the source of Huichol visual expression. 

  Although the source of most art remains Huichol myths and culture, some artists have begun to express these themes in a clearly contemporary visual style.  The theme of Daughters of the Corn, a mixed-media yarn painting by Neikame (José) Carrillo Morales, is a traditional Huichol myth.  This is made clear by the inscription on reverse side of the piece which states, “The goddess of corn (Niwetsika) gave to man two of her daughters so they could multiply among themselves allowing them to expand their families in multiple colors.”  However, the story is presented in a way that, though thoroughly modern, references the hallucinatory nature of the shamanistic experience. The use of bright, neon-like colors, softly rounded shapes and three very different media – yarn, beads, and watercolors, lend the work a psychedelic quality very much in keeping with the origins of Huichol.

Nierika/El Ojo de Dios (The Eye of God), drawing by Neikame (José) Carrillo Morales, Huichol, gouache, 13¾”h x 22”w (2009/10).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

 Within the past year, Morales produced Nierika/El Ojo de Dios, a highly symbolic work.   Although it is based on the Huichol belief system and cosmology, the subject is presented using wholly modern visual elements.  The imagery is powerful and the electric colors reference traditional Huichol yarn paintings and beaded gourds. In his inscription on the reverse of the work the artist states, “In the center of the eye, another life is born where humans emerge.  The night is divided into the day and the day gives life to the different beings who feed off of the soul of the earth.”

Evening Break by James Fäks, acrylic on canvas, Blackfeet/Oneida, 20” x 16” (2004).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

Although James Fäks is perhaps most noted for his very edgy contemporary jewelry, he also creates music, writes, sculpts and paints.  A number of Fäks paintings are of Native Americans but Evening Break is something different.  The figure’s face is haunting because it is ambiguous and mysterious - qualities which leave the viewer to wonder if it is a portrait of an Asian sage, a Native elder or a Franciscan friar.  According to Fäks, the man is an indigenous person from the Far East.  The work is a part of his learning to paint elders and his belief that we are all one on one earth.  While mainstream artists are free to paint portraits of anyone they choose, the expectation with regard to Native artists is that they are supposed to paint other Native Americans and certainly not Asians.  By choosing to do a portrait of a non-Native person the artist has broken the barriers of the “Native niche” in a very subtle yet profound way.

Contemporary Native artists are producing some of the most exciting and thought provoking works being created today and more and more collectors, including those for whom Native art is not their main focus, have come to realize that Native art is American art.  Many collectors of mainstream art have become more willing to experiment and no longer confine their collecting to one medium or even to a particular movement or period.  Often they relish mixing art made by Native artists with more expected choices.  They have embraced an eclectic esthetic and have no problem displaying such works in the same room as Abstract Expressionist paintings, Minimalist sculpture or fiber art.  The intent is to shake things up.  This outlook on the part of collectors has emboldened Native artists to use new techniques, explore new media and to draw inspiration from any source that inspires them as well as from their own culture.  Nothing is off limits. 

In a recent e-mail to me, Gail Tremblay expressed concern that “The artificial separation of indigenous artists from the American art scene has robbed Americans of an understanding of both indigenous art and their own.”

However, the work of a number of Native ceramic and glass artists as well as that of painters and sculptors is now exhibited in mainstream commercial galleries and some museums have offered exhibitions in which Native artists are included with other American artists.  These are signs (however small) that things are beginning to change.

Recently, the Chelsea Art Museum in Manhattan offered IN/SIGHT 2010, which featured twenty-four emerging and established Native American artists who work in a variety of media – painting, sculpture, ceramics, woodturning, photography, video and a mixed media installation.  Mateo Romero, Lisa Holt and Harlan Reano, Preston Singletary, Sarah Sense, Will Wilson, Steven Yazzie, Kade L. Twist, Nora Naranjo Morse and Gail Tremblay were among the artists whose art was presented in this groundbreaking show.  Michael Chapman co-founder of UNRESERVED: American Indian Fashion and Art Alliance, one of the producers of the exhibit, stated (as quoted in the wall texts), “With IN/SIGHT 2010, we are trying to make sure that the talented, lively and relevant American Indian voices are part of the contemporary art dynamic here in the nation’s art capital.”  This philosophy and the exhibit are certainly a breath of fresh air in the New York art scene and is certainly a first.  Furthermore, an exhibit that presents the work of Native artists along side the work of other contemporary artists, rather than in a separate venue, is long overdue in Manhattan.              

Buyer Beware, or How to Pick a Pot  (April 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            Pottery is the heart of my collection and has been since its inception.  Over the course of almost thirty years, the collection has come to encompass baskets, beadwork, textiles, masks, headdresses, katsinas, jewelry, and works on paper but pottery continues to be one of my strongest collecting areas.  For this reason, people often ask me how to go about choosing a piece of pottery.

The first thing I tell people who are considering purchasing any kind of art is caveat emptor: let the buyer beware.  One of my first and biggest mistakes came early on but did not surface until many years later.  In my passion for my newly acquired interest I was buying indiscriminately, without looking very carefully because no one had taught me how to look or what to look for.  In 2005 Bruce Bernstein, the current Executive Director of the Southwestern Association for Indian Arts (SWAIA) – the organization responsible for the Santa Fe Indian Market – came to my home to help select artworks for Forms of Exchange(http://faculty.vassar.edu/lucic/formsofexchange), an exhibit drawn from my collection at Vassar College’s Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center.  During the process, Dr. Bernstein pointed out a mold made pot to me, showing me the clearly visible line where the two pieces had been joined together.  Mortified, all I could do was mumble something about the piece being among the first that I had ever bought, that I hadn’t known what I was doing and I vowed to throw it out. Always gracious, Dr. Bernstein said that it would make a great teaching tool and I have used it as such to great effect ever since.  Fortunately, thanks to my mentors, there are very few “clunkers” in my collection.

Mold made black-on-white pot by Josephine Garcia-Oak (unsigned), Acoma,

4½”h x 5”w (circa early 1980s). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Pots that have been molded or cast should be avoided.  They are not considered art and barely qualify as craft.  To produce a molded piece soft clay is pressed into a mold.  It is later painted and fired.  Casting is a similar process but in this case more water is added to the clay to make it more liquid and it is then poured into the mold.

The second thing I tell people is that it is important to learn what good art is.  This can be done by reading books and magazines, visiting museums and galleries or by taking classes.  As collectors we are presented with a wide range of pottery from which to choose.  The more knowledgeable we become, the easier it is to make an informed choice.  Fortunately, there are more opportunities to learn today than there were twenty or thirty years ago.  When I began my collection there were no schools in the New York City area offering courses about Native American art but, happily, that is not the case today.   

Once a person has an idea of what constitutes the best of a particular art form I tell them that they should buy what they love and buy the very best they can afford.  This is not the same as impulse buying, which is almost always a mistake.  Each potter has a unique voice.  Collectors must discover which ones speak to them.  If a pot doesn’t “speak” to you, no matter how famous the artist who made it, pass it up.    I also tell people that it is wiser to buy one important pot than a number of minor ones and I caution them never to go into debt to buy art.

Some potters and collectors prefer very traditional pots; others are drawn to innovative, experimental pieces and some move back and forth between the two types.  One is not better than the other.  It all depends on the quality of the individual work and the collector’s ability to see it.   

            Being an educated collector is important, especially for collectors of pottery.  Besides the aesthetics of a piece, they must also take into account a number of technical considerations. Throughout the Western Hemisphere, Native pottery has always been made by hand, without the use of a potter’s wheel.  The clay is formed into pots by coiling, pinching and using a flat wooden paddle.  Each pot is unique and the mastery of technical skills is essential; otherwise the piece will be lopsided or have an unpleasing look.

            Some artists, even in pre-historic times, also used the technical process of pinching to create decoration instead of painting.  Ancestral Puebloans did this and recently some potters in Mata Ortiz, Mexico have moved away from heavily decorated pots to create what are known as corrugated pieces that are produced by pinching the clay. 

            Efren Betancourt, for example, was among the first in Mata Ortiz, a Mexican village known internationally for its pottery, to use pinched clay as a pot’s sole decoration.  This was a radical departure since most Mata Ortiz pieces are multicolored and covered with complex designs.  Even black-on-black pots have striking designs.

When I first saw Betancourt’s pot I knew that it would either signal a new direction for Mata Ortiz pottery or it would be rejected by collectors and become a dead end.  The piece is unpainted and unglazed.  Its visual appeal comes from the hundreds of tiny indentations and raised areas formed by pinching the clay before firing.  For purists this is a sacrilege.  For those willing to embrace experimentation wherever it may lead it is simply another example of the creative spirit of Mata Ortiz potters. 

Corrugated pot by Efren Betancourt, Mata Ortiz, Mexico, 11” h x 8” at widest point (2006). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

The preferences of other collectors have never mattered much to me.  Finding a strange beauty in this unusual pot that drew on the forms of utilitarian pots, I immediately bought it, not caring whether this artist or any other Mata Ortiz potter ever again made a corrugated piece.  As it turned out, there were other collectors who embraced this artistic departure, allowing Betancourt and others to experiment further with pinching as a decorative device.          

            Burnishing is another technical aspect of pottery making which can also become decorative.  Because of the persistence, inventiveness and skill of Maria and Julian Martinez, burnishing (something that was once probably a minor consideration for collectors) took on major importance.  

Black-on-black pot by Maria Martinez and Santana, San Ildefonso, 3½”h x 4¾”w

 (Circa 1940s – 1950s). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

             After a pot is formed it is set aside to dry.  It is then scraped, sanded and repeatedly rubbed with a smooth stone for hours.  This creates a shiny, polished effect when the piece is fired.  Maria and Julian became so adept at this technique that their pots have an almost mirror-like finish. 

            Although other pueblos were aware of black ware pottery, Maria and Julian of San Ildefonso perfected it.  In 1918, as a result of constant experimentation, Julian was able to produce black-on-black pieces that combined polished (glossy) areas and a matte (dull) finish.

            For many years, the work of Maria Martinez held no interest for me.  I just did not have the experience or the expertise to appreciate it.  However, as my knowledge and awareness increased I came to value the artistic achievements of this artist and her family and I was able to add a small but wonderful black-on-black pot by Maria and her daughter-in-law Santana to my collection. 

            Pots can also be decorated through cutting into the surface of a piece.  This can be done while the clay is still wet or after the pot is fired.  Of course, carving designs into a piece before it is fired is more risky because a vessel can break during firing, wasting a great deal of time and effort.  Many potters, therefore, cut into the surface of a piece after firing.  The decision is solely that of the artist.

            Definitions with regard to cutting into pottery to produce decoration tend to be somewhat fluid.  In general, the terms used are sgraffito, etched and incised.  All of these techniques differ as to the degree the artist cuts into the clay.  Sgraffito is derived from the Italian word sgraffire, meaning, “to scratch,” and is often synonymous with the term etched. 

Horses by Dusty Naranjo, Santa Clara, 6½” tall (ca. 2002). Collection of E. J. Guarino

When an artist chooses to cut somewhat deeply into a piece the term sgraffito is usually applied.  Horses by Dusty Naranjo, for example, is considered one in which the artist has chosen to employ the sgraffito technique by cutting moderately deeper into the vessel to create the decoration.  The delicacy with which the artist created the horses that decorate the vase is what attracted me to the piece  

        A vase I have in my collection from the Mississippian Caddo culture (AD 800 -1700) at first appeared to be decorated using sgraffito.  However, the

 piece is actually incised since the design is not deeply carved as it appears.

Caddoan vase with sgraffito design, 6” tall (ca. 1300 – 1700 A. D.).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

    I came upon this piece (one of my favorites) during a trip through the Midwest to visit Mound Builder archaeological sites.  Stopping in Bloomington, Indiana to visit some of the local museums, I went into a gun and tackle shop that, oddly, also sold Mata Ortiz pottery.  At that point I was just becoming aware of these ceramics but, even then, I could tell that what I was seeing was poor quality.  However, among the Mexican pieces there was something familiar.  It looked very similar to Caddoan pottery I had recently seen in archaeological museums in Ohio.  When I asked the owner about it I was told that all he knew was that it was from Arkansas and that it was, indeed, produced by the Caddo culture. I immediately bought the little vase because I found the design that had been cut into it striking and because it was typical of Mound Builder pottery.  The incised design creates a sense of depth in the pot and it is a technique still employed.

    Some artists use a combination of techniques to produce a desired effect.  Jody Naranjo, like her cousin Dusty, has decorated her pot with horses but has created the designs and images through sgraffito/etching as well as incising.  Doing so adds texture and visual interest to the piece.        

Carved jar by Jody Naranjo, Santa Clara,

coil built, stone polished around neck and shoulder, matte around base, native fired brown,

horse and arrows design etched into clay after firing, 5”w x 7”h (1996).

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Other potters have gone beyond sgraffito/etching and incising, carving deeply into the clay.  Doing so creates a striking, sculptural effect, which can clearly be seen in Harrison Begay’s carved pots, for example.  It is the very thing that attracted me to his work.   

Harrison Begay, Navajo, Pot with carved dragonfly, turtle and human hand designs

5”h x 5½”w (2005).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            No matter what carving technique is used to decorate a pot, it is the complexity of design and the skill with which it is executed that makes a piece desirable.

            Besides painting and carving, pots can be decorated in other ways as well.  Some artists choose to employ modeling, forming the clay into animal or human forms that are attached to a piece of pottery. 

            One of the first pieces of Mata Ortiz pottery I collected, for example, has a lizard around its rim.  I purchased the piece directly from the artist at her home.  I had never been to the village before and simply went from door to door, knocking and asking in my terrible Spanish, “¿Tiene usted ollas?” (“Do you have pots?”).  I was cordially invited into homes where people pulled out pots from shelves, back rooms and even from under beds.  As soon as I saw the lizard pot, as I came to think of it, I bought it.  It was not only striking because of the black-on-black geometric patterns and the reptile crawling around the rim, but that little creature also gave it charm.

Black-on-black pot with geometric designs and modeled lizard around rim by Genoveva Quezada,

Mata Ortiz, Mexico, 5”h x 7”w (1995). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Often an artist will simply apply a small band of clay around the rim of a pot for decoration.  This technique, known as appliqué, can add a sense of delicacy and lightness to a piece.  Rose Williams and her daughter Alice Cling have added appliqué bands to a number of their pots.   

Pitch coated pot with appliqué band by Rose Williams, Navajo, 10½” h x 6½” w (ca. 2004). 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Sometimes an entire piece is modeled into the figure of a person or animal.  Native Americans have been doing so since ancient times and during the early historic period potters at Cochiti Pueblo, for example, created large, hollow ceramic figures, called monos, that caricatured Hispanics, Caucasians and Navajos as well as the “oddities” that they saw in traveling Mexican circuses.  Drawing on this tradition, modern Cochiti artists such as Virgil Ortiz, Lisa Holt and Harlan Reano, Janice Ortiz and, of course, the late Inez Ortiz and Helen Cordero, have created modeled ceramic figures. Artists from other pueblos also create figures, as do some of the potters in Mata Ortiz.  Often these creations are quite humorous.

In 2006 I was invited to speak at La Junta of the Friends of Mata Ortiz, the premier event in Mexico in which the world-renowned art pottery produced in the village of Mata Ortiz is discussed, studied, and promoted.  I decided to use my visit as an opportunity to collect more pieces of Mata Ortiz potter.     

Black female figure with black-on-black designs by Rosa Quezada, Mata Ortiz, Mexico

8½”h x 6” at widest point (2006).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            During my visit a number of the potters had gathered at the Community Center since so many people were in the village to attend La Junta.  I went from table to table looking at the pots but stopped when I saw a black-on-black female figure holding her pigtails.  I found it charming but when I looked at the backside (literally in this case) I found that the artist had put the air vent in an unusual but logical place.  Sitting near by was Rosa Quesada, an elderly white haired woman known as one of Las Reinas Quezada because she is one of the sisters of Juan Quezada who is the village’s most famous potter.  When I pointed to the pot’s rear her eyes twinkled and she put her hand over her mouth and giggled mischievously.  How could I resist!  The piece still brings a smile to my face whenever I look at it.

Of course, painting is the most well known way of decorating pottery so most of the pots in my collection are painted.  Some are monochrome (one color), some bichrome (two colors) and others are polychrome (usually three or more colors).  In all cases, the painting on a pot should not be sloppy.  This is difficult to achieve because the imagery must not only be pleasing to the eye, it must wrap around a three dimensional object.  This is more of a challenge than working on a flat canvas.   

Acoma jar with five Zuni heartline deer by Lucy Lewis, Acoma, 5”h x 8w” (ca.1970s).

Collection of E. J. Guarino

            One of the most beautifully decorated pots in my collection is a piece by Lucy Lewis painted with five heartline deer.  Purchased on layaway, it took me two years to pay for this piece, but I have never regretted my decision to acquire it.  Although my collecting tastes have become decidedly non-traditional in recent years, I consider my Lucy Lewis pot one of the jewels of my collection.

Of course, besides the technical aspects of a pot, its aesthetic qualities are also important and highly personal.  In general, the best pieces of pottery are both technically and artistically exceptional. 

            Today, in addition to the technical and aesthetic merits of a pot, there are other considerations.  Some potters are experimenting with the use of acrylic paints and kiln firing, which some collectors reject out of hand.  However, in a number of instances such “innovations” have been embraced by museums and by many collectors.  In general, an innovation (as opposed to a shortcut) is done solely for artistic reasons.

Whenever possible, it is important and helpful to hold a pot in your hands before buying it.  First, remove any rings you might be wearing to avoid chipping the piece.  If possible, wash and dry your hands before touching a pot, especially if you’ve handled food.  Then, pick up the piece to get the “feel” of it.  Look at the pot straight on; then look down at it; and, finally, be sure to turn it over.  Often designs are “hidden” on the bottom.

When dealing with handmade objects such as pottery it is important to remember that the term “perfect” does not apply.  For example, in the past, many collectors rejected pots with fire clouds since they 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, too, is unacceptable.  Ironically, today there are collectors who seek out pots with fire clouds because they consider them a sort of guarantee that the piece was fired in the traditional manner.  Also, a number of modern potters, such as Lonnie Vigil (Nambé) and Alan E. Lasiloo (Zuni), try to control where fireclouds will appear on a piece, using them as a form of decoration.

Reconstructed Ancestral Puebloan black-on-white olla with firecloud, 7” x 9” (ca. 900 – 1300 A. D.) 

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Micaceous red jar with fireclouds by Lonnie Vigil, Nambé 10”h x 10”w (2005).

Collection of E. J. Guarino

Although the aesthetic qualities of a pot are somewhat subjective a pot should be graceful in appearance and finely decorated unless the artist intended otherwise or if it is a plain ware piece.  This being said, a collector should keep in mind the following guidelines:

·         A pot should be symmetrical, unless the potter intended otherwise.

·         The walls of a pot should be of a uniform thickness.  When possible run your hand inside.

·         A pot’s mouth should be even all around.

·         Polished pots should be uniformly glossy without streaks.

·         Designs should be well painted, neat, and clear.

·         Colors should be even.

·         There should be no cracks.

·         There should be no marks or stains, i.e. from animal droppings.

Before buying a pot I consider all these things and I also look for inventiveness. Sometimes I’m attracted by the mathematical ingenuity of a design or it might be zigzags that, on closer inspection, turn out to be stylized animals.  More and more, however, I look for pots that convey a whimsical sense of humor.

Collecting is a learning process.  When I started collecting I did so haphazardly, with very little guidance until I found my first mentor, Betty Johnston, whom I found through an ad in American Indian Art magazine.  Although she lived on the other side of the country, Betty guided me through letters, photos and phone conversations.  Today Betty is retired but she still takes an active interest in my collection.  Over the years she has suggested artists and pottery from various pueblos to round out my collection but for quite a long time I stubbornly refused to collect any pottery except that made at Acoma, with the work of Lucy Lewis being my Holy Grail.  Being a young, inexperienced and obstinate collector, I had no interest in Hopi, San Ildefonso, Santa Clara, Santo Domingo or any other pueblo’s ceramic output and looked upon micaceous ware with horror.  Years later, when I was more enlightened, I sought out the work of many of the artists that I had once eschewed.  However, by then the prices for such pieces had skyrocketed.  Today, thanks to Betty, Charles King and my other mentors I have a much more open-minded approach to collecting. 

OUT THERE:  Pushing the Boundaries of Native Art  (March 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            Although I’ve been collecting Native art for close to thirty years, for most of that time I was acquiring works that could best be termed “traditional.”  The idea that the art I collected had to have been made employing age old techniques and customary materials was instilled in me by the original mentors of my collection.  Unusual shapes, acrylic paints, contemporary materials and themes or the use of a kiln was considered sacrilege.  Over the years I’ve come to see that tradition is something that is definitely fluid.  Much of what was once viewed as revolutionary is now regarded as traditional and what we now see as cutting edge art may seem staid in the future.  Ironically, one of my first two mentors has also developed a much broader perspective though her tastes definitely haven’t become as “out there” as mine.  The turning point for me or, as I like to put it, the point where I made a left turn into the Twilight Zone was seeing “Changing Hands: Art Without Reservation,” a series of exhibits at the Museum of Arts and Design in New York City that featured a diverse range of contemporary Native art.  Those exhibits changed the course of my collecting.  Although I do continue to collect conservative works, more and more it gives me great delight to acquire pieces that defy expectations of what Native art should be.  I have never been attracted to didactic art, but I do enjoy anything that is thought provoking and open to interpretation.  As an educator it is important that my collection be balanced.  I try to highlight as many aspects of Native art as possible in order to create as complete a picture of what Native art is rather than what it is thought to be.    

            I recently became aware of the work of Rose B. Simpson but was unable to find a piece that I liked at a price I could afford.  However, not long ago when I visited the Heard Museum’s Berlin Gallery I saw a work by this artist that immediately caught my eye.  The piece, a face in repose made from clay, though untitled, looks remarkably like a self-portrait.  On the right side of the head is an area painted blue and inset with silver that looks very much like a jauntily placed hat.  This is clearly a contemporary though, perhaps, an unexpected representation of a Native American.  It certainly serves as a counterpoint to other, more sedate representations, of Native people in my collection.    

             I also like to collect works that are not only challenging but also illustrate how Native artists are exploring what are considered non-traditional media such as drawing and print making.  I recently became aware of Eliza Narajo-Morse’s art, again through the Berlin Gallery, and immediately knew I wanted to acquire examples of her work for my collection.  I was particularly taken with two versions (drawing and stencil) of Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something True.  (As it turns out, the artist has also done a similarly titled painting on this theme.)  Naranjo-Morse said the following about her creative process with regard to these works:      

I'm always a little afraid of making something that’s already been done.  When I started the piece I was afraid it would look like Agnes Martin, or like I was really beating a dead horse, after seeing Harry Fonseca's version of the Martin lines that he did several years ago. I let those stresses rest and then was worried the piece was looking like I was copying Franz Klein.  These were all people whose works cross my mind quite a bit, so the comparisons came up quick.  In the end I feel as though I haven't really invented the idea for Something Old, Something New. . . but more, me and Agnes, Harry and Franz sat around with a Navajo rug maker and wove something up. 

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something True   by Eliza Naranjo-Morse, Santa Clara Pueblo, Eliza Naranjo-Morse, Santa Clara, stencil, charcoal on butcher paper, 26”h x 37”w (2009)      Collection of E. J. Guarino	Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something True by Eliza Naranjo-Morse, Santa Clara Pueblo, spray paint on Japanese paper, ed. 3/15, 25”h x 37”w (2009) Collection of E. J. Guarino

           I became intrigued by Another Wish Procession, a stencil by Narajo-Morse, after seeing A Wish Procession, a painting that became the basis for the piece, at the Heard Museum.  The image, which looks like a demented version of a birthday cake, exudes a sense of nostalgia tinged with melancholy.   Clearly, the theme was important to the artist since she chose to explore it more than once and in a variety of media.  Naranjo-Morse said of the subject: “Remember all your wishes? The serious ones, the sincere, the stingy, the selfless wishes, the desperate and the impossible ones.  Every wish you’ve ever made is marching along with mine.”  The work of Naranjo-Morse fascinates me not only because it is bold and defies expectations but also because it illustrates how contemporary Native artists are expanding the types of media through which they can express themselves.   

            One of Alan E. Lasiloo’s strange creations was already in my collection when I came across a piece that was even more surprising than what I had come to expect from this courageous artist.  As soon as I saw it I thought to myself, “This guy’s got nerve!”  (Well, actually, nerve wasn’t exactly the word that came to mind.)  Made of micaceous clay and shaped like a large phallus, the piece is definitely something that wouldn’t appeal to all collectors.  In fact, when the artist first showed a group of these pots to the gallery owner where I bought this work he was somewhat timid, thinking they would be refused.  Fortunately, they weren’t.  Lasiloo keeps pushing the boundaries of Native-made pottery and, as a collector, it is certainly exciting to follow his experimentations. 

             I only recently became aware of Pat Pruitt’s work.  It had been sometime since I had added a piece of jewelry to my collection but as soon as I saw a bracelet made using a motorcycle timing belt I was hooked.  I wanted to see as much of the artist’s work as possible.  I was attracted to Pruitt’s jewelry because it defied expectations while remaining pleasing to the eye.  His work incorporates non-traditional materials, such as stainless steel, rubber, and stingray leather, and challenges widely held and deeply felt ideas about “tradition” and what exactly constitutes Native art.  Pruitt’s jewelry is bold and edgy.  It not only draws on Native influences but on those from the contemporary world such as industrial design. 

Timing Belt Cuff by Pat Pruit, Laguna/Chiricahua Apache, 316 stainless steel, industrial timing belt, 7¼”L x ½”W, 3” in diameter at widest point (2009).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Suvinai (also Shuvinai) Ashoona has slowly but steadily increased her collector base through drawings and prints that are bold, idiosyncratic and finely detailed.  Almost all of her work has a strange and subtly disturbing quality, even landscapes that at first viewing appear to be benign.  Hers is a world that is mysterious, surreal and highly personal.   As an artist, she clearly creates from a contemporary sensibility but her art combines the realities of modern life in the Arctic with many aspects of her Inuit background.  

                Quilt of Dreams, for example, draws on the textile tradition of recording with fabric.  However, Suvinai uses the print medium to show us her personal vision rather than simply to document past events.  Many of the images in the work refer to early works created by the artist.  The unusual choice of colors adds to the work’s somewhat unsettling quality.  It is certainly not what we have come to expect when we think of quilts. 

            I was immediately drawn to Suvinai’s Aujaqsiut Tupiq (Summer Tent) because it was daring in a number of ways.   Beyond the boldness of the tent’s placement on the page and the fact that it comprises most of what the viewer sees, the artist made a number of other audacious choices.  With repeated viewings it becomes clear that there are many aspects to the work’s appeal.  It is obviously representational and yet it contains elements of the abstract, which add to the tension within the piece.  Also, the muted tones give the print a richness that is comforting and in contrast to a subtle detail that creates an air of mystery:  a figure is either entering or leaving the tent but the viewer cannot see a face.  The person’s gender and purpose are intentionally kept from us.  It is unclear whether what we are seeing is mundane or ominous.      

            The Wixarika or, as they are more commonly known, Huichol are most noted for elaborately beaded objects, such as gourds, and for “paintings” made by pressing brightly colored yarn into bee’s wax that has been spread on wooden panels.  Such works, though made for sale in the art market, draw on a rich ritualistic and shamanistic tradition.  However, within the last ten years an artist named Neikame (José Carrillo Morales) began to experiment with watercolor, a new medium of artistic expression for a Huichol.  I bought two of his works.  Then, in 2007 I was offered a mixed media piece on wood that employed yarn, beads and watercolor.  I immediately purchased it.  Last year I was shown a group of works by this artist that combined watercolor with beadwork on cardboard and bought three of them.  One of them was Wirikuta (Real de Catorce).  (Wirikuta is a place sacred to the Huichol.  During the annual pilgrimage to the site peyote is gathered and later eaten in order to receive visions and communicate with ancestors).   The piece at first appears to be representational which it is.  However, it also has a hallucinatory quality.  The blue images that float upward in it sometimes appear abstract and at other times look like birds.  What appeals to me most about this artist’s work is his willingness to employ new techniques to express a unique vision that is deeply rooted in his culture.            

Wirikuta (Real de Catorce), mixed media painting on cardboard by Neikame (José Carrillo Morales), Huichol, Mexico, acrylic paints, beads; 11”h x 14”w (2007).   Translation of inscription on reverse of work: “One flower dies and another flower flies through time looking for new horizons.  All that is left is to contemplate the injustice that exists in the world.”                                            Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Recently a friend expressed her dismay to me over the direction some Native art is taking, seeing it as a “disintegration of traditional life.”  In response, I noted that if a culture doesn’t evolve, it dies.  We don't live the way our grandparents did so why would we expect Native people to live as their ancestors did 100 or more years ago?  For me, all of the new work indicates that Native culture is alive and well.  What we consider to be "traditional" today was, in the past, either not part of Native life or considered revolutionary.  Horse gear, glass beads and the “wedding vase” form in pottery, for example, (all thought of as “traditional) were introduced.  Should Indians still be making beads out of stone as they did hundreds of years ago or making strictly utilitarian pottery?  Native Americans live in the contemporary world just as we do.  However, there are still many people who seem to think they live in some sort of parallel universe where time stands still.  Native people have the influence of TV, the Internet, movies, etc. and they respond to these new technologies just as they have always responded to what is new – some things are rejected while others are incorporated into their culture.

            For me, collecting works by artists who are exploring new means of artistic expression is just plain fun.  I never know what I will find or where I will find it.  It is exciting to see how artists are experimenting, what sources are having an influence on their work and how far they are willing to go to challenge the status quo.

UNDER THE INFLUENCE:

The Impact of Native Art on Three Contemporary Mainstream Artists (February 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Recently, I had the opportunity to meet with two emerging New York visual artists and a world renowned dancer to discuss how Native art and culture had influenced their work.  It was a fascinating experience since each artist had been inspired in very different ways. 

            Jeff VanDyke, for example, became intrigued with Native art eighteen years ago when he saw the Heard Museum’s collection of pottery for the first time and was fascinated by Ancestral Puebloan and Hohokam pieces.  The artist was particularly struck by the similarities of some of the patterns to those on ancient Greek and Chinese ceramics. Since then ancient Native American pottery has been a consistent influence in his work.  According to VanDyke, “. . . the patterns came to be a symbol of human universality.  They seemed to relate to how we all create.  The patterns seemed timeless – ancient and modern at the same time.”

VanDyke became even more interested in Native art after reading Working Space by Frank Stella.  In his book, the famed artist stated that one of the most important aspects of modern art is that the viewer doesn’t need to have any cultural references or prior knowledge of the artist’s work but can simply respond to colors and patterns.  VanDyke believes that this is almost always true of Native art so that even pre-historic pieces often look quite modern.

Laguna X by Jeffrey VanDyke, iridescent acrylic paint & copper leaf on carved birch plywood, 40’’ x 40” (2007)   

            In Laguna X, for example, the viewer is confronted with an abstract design and a consciously limited color palette.  Inspired by a Laguna Pueblo pot, the painting reduces patterns to their simplest form.  In addition, the painting appears different as the light changes, expressing dual themes of the permanent and ephemeral.

            The artist has also been inspired by Huichol Indian art as well as pre-Columbian imagery.  This is evident in Lomaki 1, which echoes the electric colors found in Huichol yarn paintings and textiles.  VanDyke was inspired to create the painting by a combination of shocking pink, orange and blue he saw in a yarn painting early in 2009 as well as by abstract representations of Quetzalcoatl, a Mesoamerican god associated with both corn and water and connected to the Tewa Avanyu or water serpent.          

Lomaki 1 by Jeffrey VanDyke, oil on canvas, 36” x 36” (2009)

            Much of VanDyke’s work is a response to, as well as a reaction against, the trend in contemporary art for works to be ephemeral, disdainful of tradition and often lacking a visual component.  Often objects are arranged on the floor, stapled to walls or an artist simply designates something already in existence, such as a banana peel dropped on the floor, as a work of art. 

Originally the artist was drawn to the Bauhaus School of Art for inspiration and later saw similarities with Native American art.  According to VanDyke, “Bauhaus artists created functional objects made from humble materials but their designs, like Native art, were imbued with spirituality . . . .”  Although Native art is constantly changing, contemporary artists, like their ancestors, respect and draw on age-old traditions.         VanDyke envisions a new American modernism that is inspired by ancient, universal symbols.  He believes that contemporary art can expand and elaborate on tradition by not being a slave to “new for the sake of new.”

 Native American art is also an important influence in the work of Greg Reynolds, another New York based artist.  Reynolds recalls that the first time he can remember drawing from Native art was when he was required to carve a totem pole to earn a Boy Scout merit badge.  Although he was proud of his accomplishment he doesn’t remember anyone else being impressed.  Nonetheless, Native American art, especially that of Northwest Coast tribes, made an impression on the young artist that was to remain with him. 

While attending Florida Southern College, Reynolds was surrounded by what is, perhaps, the largest collection Frank Lloyd Wright buildings in the country and he was mesmerized by the geometric forms that reminded him so much of those he had seen in Native American pottery, textiles and carvings.  “Wright’s application and interpretation of these lines and bold geometric patterns inspired me daily.  I was addicted.  One could hardly ignore the inspiration in Wright’s design of cantilevered walkways that crisscrossed the campus, the iconic Annie Pfeiffer Chapel, as well as administrative and classroom buildings,” Reynolds’ said.  The artist was also intrigued by the architect’s use of “Cherokee Red” paint. 

According to Reynolds, shortly after moving to New York City in the 1980s, he began a love affair with Art Deco architecture after seeing the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, two icons of that famous art movement.  As far as he was concerned both buildings were “dripping with elements of Native American artistic expression.”         

Untitled drawing by Greg Reynolds, India ink and gouache on paper; Paper size: 16“h x 12“w, Image size: 12”h x 9”w (2009) 

Collection of Sandro Fusco

By the late 1990s Reynolds was experimenting with pen and ink drawings on watercolor paper, producing works with striking geometric patterns and bold colors.  To this day, Native American art has an impact on his work.  In an untitled drawing done in 2009 the lines and color palette are clearly reminiscent of Northwest Coast art.

Grandma by Greg Reynolds, India ink and gouache on paper; Paper size: 12”h x 16”w;

Image size: 8½”h x 11½”w (2010)

 According to Reynolds, the more he has been exposed to Native art, the more it has stimulated him.  Grandma, his newest work, was inspired by Oneida Iroquois art as a result of a recent visit to the National Museum of the American Indian in New York City.  Although the piece is part of the artists’ hallmark abstract style, the imagery clearly depicts a figure in a very strange landscape.  On this form are thirteen circles that stand in sharp contrast to the stark angularity of the other geometric shapes in the piece.  These circles represent the moon which the Iroquois refer to as “Our Grandmother.”    

  The artist readily admits that he owes much to Native art both directly through pottery, carvings and textiles as well as indirectly through the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, Paolo Soleri and others who where influenced by Native art.

In addition to visual artists, many in the performing arts have also been influenced by Native American art and culture.  Brenda Bufalino, one of the most important and influential tap dancers in the country, stated that she danced her way into Native culture.  Bufalino, the name means “little buffalo” in Italian, is of Italian, Scotch, English and Blackfoot heritage.  When she was teaching at the State University of New York, Bufalino participated in a program on Native American song and dance.  She later frequently attended pow wows and joined in various dances that were open to visitors.  These experiences would later serve as artistic inspiration.

When most people think of tap dancing they usually perceive it as a solo performance.  Often it is mistakenly thought of as being created on the spur of the moment and something that anyone can do.  Bufalino envisioned something quite new and revolutionary for the art form and in 1986 she created the American Tap Dance Orchestra – an ensemble of tap dancers playing arrangements, melodies and counter rhythms with their feet.  Before the ATDO, ensemble tap dancing had always involved precision dancing done in a line, most notably by the Radio City Rockettes.  This was something that did not particularly interest Bufalino.  She was intrigued with the possibilities of compositional tap dance in which some sections had music while others consisted solely of the rhythmic sound of the taps going from loud to soft and back again in a variety of complex patterns. 

In 1991, as part of a program titled American Landscape, Bufalino created The White Buffalo Suite, a work for a large ensemble of dancers all wearing white buffalo masks that was choreographed orchestrally.  The piece was inspired by Native American dancing, philosophy and iconography and by the fact that a white buffalo is considered sacred by many Native American groups.  “Also,” Bufalino stated, “the idea of a stampede and thundering hoofs provided the impetus for the rhythms and counter rhythms.” 

Brenda Bufalino and the American Tap Dance Orchestra performing The White Buffalo Suite

Photo courtesy of Jebah Baum

             Regarding the Native American part of her background, Bufalino said, “I have always been interested, felt a genetic memory and was inspired by my own Blackfoot Indian ancestry, divulged to me by my grandmother later in life.”

As part of The American Landscape, Bufalino composed “Swan Song,” music inspired by the sound of Native American flutes for “Indian,” a dance that included many of the foot patterns and drum rhythms she had experienced at pow wows.  At the opening of the entire program drawings that were created by painter, printmaker, and sculptor Jebah Baum were projected on a screen.               

War Dance	Totems

Drawings that were inspired by Native American artwork and ritual, created by Jebah Baum, used in projections in the original production of The American Landscape.

Images of drawings courtesy of Jebah Baum

The masks used in The White Buffalo Suite were made of folded and shaped paper.  According to visual artist Jebah Baum, Bufalino’s son and long time collaborator, he was    “. . . aiming to capture the essential quality of the American buffalo, with its disproportionate head, blank stare and elusively docile nature.  They are at once whimsical and ominous, especially in a group.”  He and his mother instructed the dancers “. . . to let the masks be a portal through which to communicate with the spirit of the buffalo, much as we understood that Native Americans used masks to commune with the world around them.” 

American Tap Dance Orchestra dancers wearing White Buffalo masks

Photo courtesy of Jebah Baum

 Brenda Bufalino added, “The masks made of paper as well as Jeb’s prints . . . once again provided the atmosphere and homage for this land, its indigenous peoples and the Europeans and how each related to the times and environment.  For me they represent the shamanic invocation of the artist through the spirit of the buffalo.”

For more than three centuries, perhaps longer, European and mainstream American artists – painters, sculptors, poets, novelists, playwrights and, more recently, filmmakers – have drawn on the indigenous art of the Americas for inspiration.  This “borrowing” is not without controversy, however, since some Native people believe their culture is being appropriated.  As more and more Native artists become influenced by other cultures – mainstream American, European, Asian and African – perhaps objections will lessen and people will simply accept that artists are inspired by a multitude of sources.  Personally, I’m enjoying the dialogue that currently exists between Native and non-Native artists through their work; I hope that it continues.         

Clearing out the Cobwebs (January 2010)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

There is no question that the Native art of the Americas had a profound influence on 20^th century art.  Surrealists André Breton and Marcel Duchamp were inspired by Yup’ik Eskimo masks and Max Ernst by Northwest Coast art.  Art Deco, the quintessential design movement of the 1920s and 30s, drew on the geometric shapes and abstractions of natural forms found in Native American, Aztec and Mayan art.  In the American Southwest the movement was translated into Pueblo Deco.  From the late 1940s into the middle 1950s a number of the Abstract Expressionists were stimulated by a diverse range of native art – Jackson Pollock by Navajo sand painting and Nu-chah-nulth (Nootka) imagery, Mark Rothko by pre-Columbian Peruvian textiles and Richard Pousette-Dart by Northwest Coast imagery.   Also in the 1940s a group of painters who came to be known as “The Indian Space Painters” took inspiration from Northwest Coast art, particularly the geometric and symbolic qualities of Tlingit and Kwakwaka’wakw (Kwakiutl) works.  Later in the century Pop artists Roy Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol created works incorporating a wide variety of Native American symbols and motifs.

                However, in spite of the impact Native art has had on Modern Art, one would never know it from museum exhibition policies.  Although museums have many guidelines, exhibits tend to reflect a curators’ area of specialization, interests and, on occasion, their biases.  For the most part, art produced by America’s indigenous peoples is not included as part of the general art cannon.  This is especially true with regard to contemporary Native artists.  Their art is treated as if it exists in some sort of vacuum, separate from the work of their contemporaries of other races and ethnicities.  Usually, to see Native art one must go to a museum specializing in Indian art or to an ethnographic or Natural History Museum.  Large encyclopedic museums usually display America’s Native art in one or two small galleries.  In New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, for example, the art of Native North America is covered in two galleries and, as in almost all cases, what is usually presented is from the prehistoric and historic periods, stopping short of the contemporary period. 

            Recently I visited the Indianapolis Art Museum.  As I expected, the art of Native America was confined to two small galleries, sort of off in a corner, separate from the other American art.  Also, the materials did not cover the modern era except for Maria Martinez, Lucy Lewis and Juan Quezada, Mexico’s famous modern potter.  As for art produced by contemporary Native artists, the impression was that it just didn’t exist.  It was as if the artistic output of Native America ceased some time in the last century. 

On the same trip I had the opportunity to visit the Indiana University Art Museum in Bloomington.  One small gallery covered Mesoamerica and South America.  The presentation of Native North America consisted of two display cases – one with North West Coast and Alaskan Eskimo objects and another small case with Mississippian Culture objects.  My heart sank.  However, the Art of the Western World: Early Medieval to the Present held a surprise.  At the very end of this section of the museum, displayed along with the work of George Segal, Sol Le Witt, Barbara Hepworth, Donald Judd (all identified in the wall texts as American), was Sage and Sweetgrass, a painting by Jaune Quick-to-See Smith (also identified as American).  The work intentionally resembles a collage, the paint applied in broad strokes.  Three pottery forms, a canoe, a fish, and a cruciform shape similar to a Native woman’s tunic-style clothing are suggested by black outline.  The curatorial notes explained that the artist was born on the Flathead Indian Reservation in Montana and that her work tries to bridge Native American and European culture.  I wanted to shout, “Bravo!  Somebody finally got it right.”

-Juane Quick-To-See Smith -SAGE AND SWEETGRASS -1989 -Oil on canvas -Copyright 2009, Indiana University Art Museum:  Gift of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, New York; Hassam, Speicher, Betts and Symons Funds, 1993 (#93.6) -Photographers:  Michael Cavanagh and Kevin Montague

            My experience at the Indiana University Art Museum was the exception but it should be the norm.  The work of American artists of other racial and ethnic backgrounds are not relegated to separate galleries or to specialized museums.  The work of such modern artists as Andy Warhol (German-American), Jacob Lawrence (African-American) and Yasuo Kuniyoshi (Japanese American), who are all usually simply referred to as American, may very well be presented in the same gallery within a museum that exhibits ancient Egyptian, Greek and Roman art; Asian and African art; Medieval and Renaissance art; the Impressionists, the Post-Impressionists, the Surrealists, Cubists, Abstract Expressionists, and Pop Art – in short, the entire range of human art making.   

            Something else struck me while I was at the Indiana University Art Museum.  In the Arts of Asia and the Ancient Western World section I noticed that Modern Japanese ceramics were displayed in the same gallery as Japanese pottery from the 4^th to 7^th centuries A.D. and earthenware from 1000 to 300 B.C. and from 2500 – 2000 B.C.  Why not do this with pottery from the Americas which has a tradition that goes back more than 5,000 years?  It might be interesting to see some of the earliest pottery made in the Western Hemisphere presented alongside cutting edge, contemporary Native pottery.  It would also be exciting to see Native pottery juxtaposed with that made by non-Native potters.  The contrast would be illuminating as would an exhibit of Contemporary Art that presented works by non-Native and Native artists and which included pottery.  We can only hope.

            Of course, simply displaying Native art with other types of American art is not necessarily a panacea as evidenced by the Brooklyn Museum in New York.  Although the museum has extensive Native holdings in its collection, very few objects are on view in the newly installed Native American section.  However, Native American works are scattered throughout the part of the museum dedicated to American art.  Along with works from the Colonial and Federalist period there is a very old Pueblo olla.  However, there are no curatorial notes explaining what connection this piece of pottery has to the other works displayed nearby.  In the gallery covering the Art Deco period there is a large pot by Lucy Lewis.  In spite of the influence Native designs had on Art Deco no connections are made for the museum visitor.  Farther along in the American section there is a display case containing many examples of historic Iroquois beadwork but, again, there is no information connecting this material to the other works in the same gallery. 

            Museums must once again assert their role as educators.  In recent years far too many have abdicated this responsibility in favor of providing an “experience” that draws in crowds and revenue.  In addition to having a broader, more inclusive approach to American art, museums must present Native art in context, supported by curatorial notes.  A well curated exhibit provides enlightenment rather than engendering confusion but lately I’ve encountered a number of exhibits in which the curatorial notes were all but non-existent, something that is extremely frustrating.  In some cases if one wants more information one has to buy an expensive exhibition catalogue which is not something that every museum visitor can afford to do, especially since some museums are now charging an eighteen or twenty dollar admission fee. 

            A good curator knows that exhibition notes must offer enough information without overwhelming museum-goers.  Fortunately, a number of museums, such as the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College, the Indiana University Art Museum, and the Heard Museum have been able to strike just the right note.  Other museums would do well to follow their lead.      

Change is occurring in college courses as well.  In the past if Native American art was presented at all in Art History courses it was usually presented from an ethnographic rather than from an artistic perspective.  Happily, however, there are signs of progress.  At Vassar College, one of the most prestigious institutions of higher learning in the country, freshman art courses include Native American art.  In addition, the art department is offering “A Different Way of Seeing: The Art of Native North America,” in which students will consider issues regarding the acquisition and exhibition of Native American art, and “Change and Diversity in American Art, from the Beginnings to 1865,” a course that will investigate a variety of art produced in America, including art produced by Native Americans during the prehistoric period as well as that of Native artists whose artistic contributions are usually overlooked in the study of the colonial, early republic and antebellum periods.

Native art and culture have always changed and evolved.  As diverse Native groups came into contact with each other through trade, innovations occurred because of the introduction of new materials, technologies and ideas.  With the arrival in the New World of people and goods from Europe and Asia, Native cultures adopted as well as adapted what they found useful or beautiful such as horses, guns, wool, glass beads, silk ribbon, and Chinese brocade.  Today Native people, in particular artists, are as engaged with the world as those of any other group.  Like other artists, Native artists live contemporary lives and their art reflects as much.  They have been exposed to a wide range of cultures, concepts, media, and materials which is evident in what they create.  Native artists have always embraced change but it is only recently that the perception of Native art as something eternally fixed and separate has begun to change. 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     * 

The author would like to express his gratitude to the Indiana University Art Museum and to Kathy Taylor, Office of Assistant Registrar, Rights and Reproductions,

for permission to use an image of Sage and Sweetgrass in this article.       

Breaking with Tradition (December2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Native artists are jolting many collectors by their use of non-Native imagery and unusual treatments of what are considered traditional forms.  To paraphrase an outdated Oldsmobile commercial, “This is not your father’s Indian art.”  Native American art has always been complex but, in the late 20^th century and continuing into the new millennium, it is even more so as artists consistently defy the expectations of critics, collectors and curators.

From a young age William Andrew Pacheco, for example, has been decorating his pottery with images of dinosaurs.  He has covered pots of varying sizes and shapes as well as plates and even a ceramic cube with these prehistoric creatures which he has rendered in a charming fashion, often combining them with abstract designs.    Such work had been completely unheard of before Pacheco and one would have expected that it would have been rejected as “non-Indian.  However, although such imagery defied expectations and challenged assumptions about Native art, it has been embraced by collectors, curators and the museum-going public.  A few years ago I was so delighted by the artist’s Dino Cube that was included in an exhibition of Native pottery at the National Museum of the American Indian in New York that I became determined to add one of his pieces to my collection.   

Dino plate by William Andrew Pacheco, Santo Domingo Pueblo white plate with black dinosaur and geometric designs, 1¼” x 8” in diameter (2004).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Ever the innovator, Susan Folwell has been at the forefront of redefining notions about Native American pottery.  Her work incorporates unusual, frequently asymmetrical forms and imagery that is often not immediately identifiable as Native.  As an artist she is inspired by a diverse range of sources – Nature, Japanese art, and the art of other Native American groups.  After spending time in Alaska, for example, she produced a series of pots that blended Northwest Coast and Santa Clara imagery.  I clearly remember the first time I saw the pot I now own by Susan.  After landing in Phoenix, I immediately drove to the King Galleries which is something typical for me.  As I pulled into a space directly in front of the gallery I was instantly struck by a spectacular pot in the window.  Although I had no idea who had created it or what it might cost, I made up my mind on the spot that I had to have it for my collection even if it meant spending my entire budget on this one piece.  I have never regretted my decision.  As it turned out, this pot became the “star” of “Forms of Exchange: Art of Native Peoples from the Edward J. Guarino Collection,” an exhibit presented at the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College in 2006.     

Susan Folwell Cylindrical pot with carved and painted Northwest Coast style designs by  Santa Clara, 11½”h x 7” in diameter (2005).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Alan Lasiloo is another Native artist who is challenging the status quo by approaching Native pottery making in new and very different ways.  To some, the form and treatment of his ceramics approaches sacrilege.  Certainly, his pieces cannot be described as “pretty pots.”  Often, they are quite the opposite.  However, that is what attracted me, which is odd since the first mentor for my collection was definitely a traditionalist who steered me in that direction for many years.  Perhaps I am drawn to Alan Lasiloo’s work because it is a surprise in so many ways.  The pot I own by him is nothing like any of the other pieces in my collection.          

Alan E. Lasiloo Micaceous jar by  Zuni, 6”h x 8”w (2006).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Lasiloo seems to be trying to deconstruct the very nature of pottery.  Some of his pieces look as if they have been squished, one wall having been intentionally pushed in, while in other pieces the slip seems to run and ooze down the pot.  Such treatments are anathema to purists but I find them intriguing and an interesting counterpoint to the more familiar pieces in my collection.  It will be interesting to see how far Lasiloo will be able to go with his experiments. 

One of a Kind, installation piece by Yellowbird Samora, natural micaceous clay; ten pieces; largest 10”h x 5½”w, smallest 6½”h x 3”w (2008).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            I had been completely unaware of the work of Yellowbird Samora until a friend who works at the Heard Museum suggested it was something I should know about.  The first pieces I saw amazed me not only because they were unlike anything I had ever seen done by any ceramic artists but because they were so asymmetrical that I couldn’t believe that they didn’t just tip over.  Unfortunately, by the time I became aware of Yellowbird Samora such pieces had been sold.  I haven’t given up, however.  In the meantime, I saw another unusual work by the artist titled One of a Kind.   It was not only new in shape for pottery created by a Native artist but its concept was also radically different.  Consisting of ten individual forms of varying sizes, the work is an instillation piece that makes us consider what it means to be different.  Clearly, the artist’s intention is to address as wide an audience as possible, refusing to be confined by other people’s ideas about Native art and artists.  In terms of Native American ceramics, the work is revolutionary.    

            For me, one of the most interesting developments of recent years is discovering works with a global perspective by Native artists living in remote areas.  Through the mass media, even the vast Navajo reservation and the Arctic are no longer isolated from the rest of the world.  Unlike their grandparents and even their parents, contemporary Native people have the Internet, among other media, as well as air travel to connect them to diverse cultures, influences and ideas.  The concerns of the rest of the world are also theirs.  Two works that illustrate this point are Wild World by Kavavaow Mannomee and Composition (People, Animals and the World Holding Hands) by Shuvinai Ashoona.  Each of these pieces addresses and comments on the world beyond Cape Dorset, the Arctic settlement where both artists live.

Wild World by Kavavaow Mannome Lithograph, 22/50; Inuit, Cape Dorset,25.” x 20.15,” Cape Dorset Spring Collection #9 (2008)  CCollection of E. J. Guarino

Composition (People, Animals and the World Holding Hands) by Shuvinai Ashoona, Inuit, Cape Dorset, ink,pencil crayon, 26.25 x 40” (2007/08)  CCollection of E. J. Guarino

  Wild World portrays a universe filled with chaos, not unlike the world in which we live.  Strange objects and symbols whirl around what appears to be a calm, Godlike eye which may be the artist’s comment on where peace may be found in the midst of confusion.  The print’s incredible sense of movement and the use of color and line are reminiscent of Vasily Kandinksy’s drawings and watercolors as well as his paintings done between 1914 and 1933.

Similarly, Shuvinai Ashoona’s Composition (People, Animals and the World Holding Hands) expresses a desire for harmony among all living beings.  The drawing shows humans (including a half-human mermaid) holding hands with animals and a personified planet Earth, forming a circle around two dead bears and a dead seal, animals that give their lives so others may live.  In the circle an Inuit man supports the body of a blonde haired woman so that she can grasp the World’s hand.  In her unique style, Shuvinai makes a profound statement in her usual colorful and charming way.

Increasingly, Native artists want to be seen as contemporary artists.  For too long the work of Native artists has been relegated (perhaps segregated is a better word) to ethnographic museums or given a separate but definitely unequal place in mainstream art institutions.  Considering its vast holdings, New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, for example, has allotted only two small rooms to Native American and Inuit art.  The entire range of pre-Columbian art is presented in two nearby rooms that are somewhat larger.  Considering the influence Native art has had on Modern and Contemporary Art, it is amazing that it is so often treated as an artistic stepchild.

Fortunately, this is changing thanks in large part to artists who refuse to have their work narrowly categorized and also because some museums are seeing Native art in a more enlightened way.  In Ottawa’s National Gallery of Canadian Art, for example, Inuit art is seen for what it is – contemporary art – and is shown alongside works by other Canadian artists.  It is not separated within the museum.  Instead, it is incorporated into the general narrative of art history. 

GOING TO EXTREMES, or THE FAT OF THE LAND (November2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            As a culture, we are obsessed with extremes.  We have TV shows that celebrate the “biggest”, “fastest”, “tallest”, and “longest” and for decades we have super sized our architecture, our vehicles, our art, and our food.  The hot dogs and hamburgers we order today, for example, are considerably larger than those served in the 60s and 70s.  In the process we have even managed to super size ourselves.  In the late 1970s fifteen percent of the American population was obese; today that figure is thirty-five percent. 

            Obesity is a factor in many diseases, in particular diabetes, which ranks seventh among the leading causes of death in the United States, affecting nearly 24 million people.  The disease strikes Native Americans, however, disproportionately.  They are twice as likely as whites to develop diabetes.  Type 2 diabetes (formerly called late onset diabetes) is relatively rare in children but it accounts for more than three quarters of the cases among ten to nineteen year old Native Americans.  Also, the rates of diabetes for Native Americans under thirty-five doubled between 1994 and 2004.  The reasons for this are complex and not completely understood. 

            Some believe that Native Americans are genetically predisposed to diabetes because their ancestors’ bodies had to adjust to a continual cycle of feast and famine but today Native people, like the rest of us, live in a society that is all feast all the time.  Our access to food is unprecedented.  However, as with all at risk groups, race and ethnicity are less important in developing the disease than diet, obesity, lack of exercise and age. 

            Another factor is that the arrival of Europeans radically changed the diet of Native Americans.  There is no evidence, for example, that before the Encounter diabetes existed in the New World.  Traditionally, many Native groups ate small amounts of meat, only what they could get through hunting and trapping which required a great deal of physical activity.  For example, most Pueblo diets consisted of deer, rabbits, birds, and other small animals as well as fish, corn, beans, and squash and wild plants, berries and nuts.  Europeans introduced beef, pork, and chicken as well as fruits, vegetables and grains, particularly wheat, from Europe and Asia.  Fry bread, which has become a popular and iconic Indian food, did not exist before the introduction of wheat flour. 

            Native Americans, like the rest of us, are victims of “the American plan,” a diet high in fat, starches, sugar, and salt.  Unfortunately, for many people the “value menus” at fast food restaurants seem to make economic sense, especially in difficult financial times, but a steady diet of such food does not make sense in terms of health.  Combined with lack of exercise because of time spent in cars and in front of TVs, computers, and video games it is a recipe for developing diabetes.  Contrary to what one might think, Native Americans who live in urban centers are not the only ones exposed to this lifestyle.  There are, for example, more than a few fast food restaurants represented on the vast Navajo reservation.  Like most other Americans, Native Americans are susceptible to developing type 2 diabetes because of life-style choices rather than because of genetic vulnerability.   

Perhaps the best way to combat what has been described as an epidemic is through education, but many schools send mixed messages with regards to health issues.  Some fast food chains have made inroads into a number of US school systems claiming that it is better to serve students foods they will eat rather than those they should eat but won’t.  More than a few schools across the country have handed over the responsibility of feeding students to fast food chains.  In addition, what is taught in health classes is not necessarily modeled in the rest of the school.  For example, in the high school where I taught for thirty-four years the health teachers gave lessons on good eating habits but vending machines that dispensed soda and high fructose fruit drinks were installed in the cafeteria to raise money for something called the “principal’s fund.”  Furthermore, administrators and some teachers turned a blind eye to student “entrepreneurs” who sold soda, candy, cookies, muffins, potato chips and all manner of snacks throughout the building in the course of the school day.

According to an August 25, 2009 article in the New York Daily News, the average American consumes twenty-two teaspoons of sugar per day.  Most women need no more than six teaspoons a day and most men only need nine.  A twelve ounce can of soda, for example, contains about eight teaspoons of sugar and most people drink more than one can in addition to other foods containing sugar.  This doesn’t take into account all of the foods with “hidden” sugars as chronicled in the book Sugar Blues.    

            For most of my life I didn’t think that diabetes was a very serious disease.  After all, I grew up with a first cousin who had type 1diabetes (formerly called juvenile diabetes) and I was never aware of any serious difficulties.  However, when he reached adulthood the problems began: infections, frequent hospitalizations, loss of sight, and eventually having to quit his job.  Joe suffered years of blindness, multiple amputations, confinement to a wheelchair, and dependence on family members for his basic needs.  A once vibrant man with an active life that included skydiving, he died shortly after turning fifty.  The four surviving cousins were devastated.  All of us wondered why Joe had been dealt the “diabetes card.”  It turns out that although type 1 and type 2 diabetes have different causes two risk factors are the same: an inherited predisposition to the disease and something in one’s environment to trigger the disease, the usual culprits being diet, obesity and lack of exercise.  However, with type 1 diabetes risk factors are inherited from both parents.  As with many people, type 2 diabetes also runs in my family, something my father didn’t develop until he was in his seventies.

            Type 1 diabetes only accounts for five to ten percent of all cases of the disease; while type 2 diabetes accounts for ninety to ninety-five percent of diabetes diagnoses. 

            Diabetes rates have skyrocketed among Native Americans and the disease is increasingly found in young people, including those less than ten years of age.  The Akimel O’odham of southern Arizona have the highest rate of diabetes in the world!  Fifty percent of the tribe between the ages of thirty and sixty-four has been diagnosed with the disease.  Complications from diabetes – infections, cardiovascular disease and, increasingly, kidney disease – are the leading causes of death among Native Americans.

            Education is the key.  Native people are educating themselves about diabetes and are becoming aware that they can avoid eating themselves into a disease that, for the most part, can be prevented.  Since obesity triples the likelihood of a person developing type 2 diabetes tribes are encouraging members to eat a diet high in fruits and vegetables, avoid foods high in sugar, starches, and fat, and to increase their physical activity to control their weight.  Many Native groups have also wisely used profits from Indian run casinos to fund sports complexes that offer weight training, track, swimming, basketball, and other physical activities. 

            As collectors we may only become aware of diabetes among Native Americans when it affects a “celebrity.”  My eye opening moment came when I learned that an award-winning potter had already lost one finger to the disease and may soon lose another.  It is essential that Congress continues funding for diabetes education in Native communities where there is a need to reach young people about prevention and for the translation of diabetes information into Native languages for some elders who may not speak English. 

 NOVEMBER IS AMERICAN DIABETES MONTH.

For more information contact the following:

www.diabetes.org or call 1-800-DIABETES (342-2383)               www.cdc.gov/diabetes                    

DARK SHADOWS:  Controversial Themes in Native Art (October2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Quite a number of Native artists are dealing with controversial or painful subject matter in their work.  Rather than the benign art we’ve come to expect, more and more 21^st century Native artists see themselves as contemporary artists with a unique perspective.  Their outlook is global and they are not afraid to create works that explore a wide range of controversial or painful subject matter including war, disturbing historical events, alcoholism, suicide, spousal abuse, sexual exploitation and depression.    

Long noted for works in which humor is used to comment on social issues and troubling historical events, Diego Romero, for example, turned deadly serious in his depiction of the horrors of war in Dead Solder [sic].  Echoing Picasso’s Guernica, Romero’s ceramic bowl contains three images of a soldier’s dismembered body - a bleeding severed arm holding a gun, another with a quivering hand and a helmeted head.  Most probably inspired by the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the piece is a haunting visual reminder of the realities of combat. 

Dead Solder [sic], open bowl by Diego Romero, Cochiti Pueblo, 9”w x 4”h (2007) Signed: “Chongo made and painted me”.  Collection of E. J. Guarino

Jason Garcia, like artists Diego Romero and Virgil Ortiz, has used the Pueblo Revolt as a source of inspiration.  He has created a series of ceramic tiles as well as a limited edition print based on this historical event.  Led by Po’pay, considered a hero by the Pueblo people, the violent uprising in 1680 was a desperate response to the harsh rule of the Spanish.  Using a comic book format, Jason Garcia portrays Po’pay as a Native superhero, forcing his audience to see a painful episode of American history from a Native perspective. 

Tewa Tales of Suspense: Behold PO’PAY! by Jason Garcia, silkscreen,  3/20, Santa Clara, 19” x 15” (2009). Collection of E. J. Guarino

     Some Native artists have created works that deal with subject matter that many people in their own communities feel should not be revealed to the outside world.  This is certainly the case with Inuit art.  Like many other collectors, when I first became aware of Inuit sculpture and graphics all I ever saw were works depicting scenes of traditional life on the land, myths, and Arctic animals.  However, in 1999 I saw “Three Women, Three Generations: Drawings by Pitseolak Ashoona, Napatchie Pootoogook and Shuvinai Ashoona” at the McMichael Canadian Art Collection.  It was an exhibit that changed the course of my collecting since it contained images of suicide, spousal abuse and the exploitation of women, something I had never seen before in Inuit art.  Making art is the major source of income for many Inuit families and artists know the role dealers and collectors play in the process of creating art.  Inuit artists are acutely aware that their work must appeal to collectors, many of whom are often notoriously conservative in their tastes.  The Annual Cape Dorset Print Collection, for example, rarely contains any images that in any way could be considered controversial.  Most of what is offered to collectors is benign images of life in the Arctic.  However, a few artists did begin to create highly personal drawings.  Since they are not bound by the market-oriented printmaking system they could deal with sensitive or controversial themes.  Much of this work has never been seen by the public but a number of astute collectors did buy the drawings when they were offered to them.  As collectors expressed a desire to acquire works that deal with more the difficult aspects of Inuit life, galleries have been more willing to offer them for sale.  It is a phenomenon that has happened in less than twenty years.

            In an attempt to have a fuller representation of the range of Inuit graphics in my collection, I contacted galleries to make them aware that I wished to acquire works dealing with what is often termed the “darker side” of Inuit life.  The works offered to me were certainly eye-opening.  Two of them, Untitled (White Man and Inuk Drinking) by Kananginak Pootoogook and Untitled (Alcohol) by Napachie Pootoogook, deal with the problems created by the introduction of alcohol.  Since mainstream books and media have often stereotyped Native people as drunks, it is understandable that alcoholism is a sensitive subject, especially when revealed to the world at large through art.  Many feared that it would simply reinforce long held stereotypes.  Nonetheless, Kananginak as well as his niece Napachie each decided to document aspects of Inuit life that had been omitted.  Kananginak is most well known for his realistic images of Arctic wildlife, earning him the title of the “Audubon of the North”.  However, some feel that, ultimately, he will be remembered for chronicling the affects White outsiders – whalers, traders, missionaries and policemen - had on Inuit customs, religion and clothing.  (For more on this aspect of Kananginak’s work see Robert Kardosh’s excellent article “The Other Kananginak” in the spring 2007 issue of Inuit Art Quarterly.)                          

Untitled (White Man and Inuk Drinking) by Kananginak Pootoogook, pencil crayon and ink, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 20”h x 26”w (1996).  Translation of the Inuktitut script: “This is the Inuk man’s first drink ever.  Even though it’s only wine he is very intoxicated.  This is the beginning of alcoholism.” Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Like her uncle, late in her career Napachie Pootoogook (now deceased) created a body of work realistically depicting Inuit life, including vices introduced by White men, but from a woman’s perspective.  Napachie, who admitted her own use of alcohol before realizing its effects, illustrates in Untitled (Alcohol) the impact drinking has on an entire family, not just one person.  A mother, child in arm, struggles with a man (presumably her husband) who is holding a bottle in one hand and a stick in the other while nearby another man lies unconscious.  The dysfunction and violence created by alcoholism are evident in the drawing.     

Untitled (Alcohol) by Napachie Pootoogook, pencil crayon and ink, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 20”h x 26”w (1993/94).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Napachie  also documented the sexual exploitation of women in two shocking works – Whaler’s Exchange, one of the few prints dealing with a controversial subject to be released as part of the Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection, and the drawing Trading Women for Supplies. 

Whaler’s Exchange by Napachie Pootoogook,   lithograph, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 20” x 16”  Cape Dorset Annunal Print Collection, #21.  Edition of 50 (1989)    Collection of E. J. Guarino	Trading Women for Supplies by Napachie    Pootoogook, ink, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 20” x 26”  (1997/98)   Translation of the Inuktitut script: “The captain from the bowhead whale hunting ship is  trading materials and supplies for the women.  As  usual, the man agrees without hesitation.”  Collection of E. J. Guarino

        Europeans were fascinated, scandalized and titillated by pre-Christian Inuit sexual mores which did not promote monogamy, accepting spousal exchange as practical.  However, women were often forced into marriage and probably had no say when their favors were bartered by their husbands to White men in exchange for goods.  This subject was obviously troubling to Napachie who chose to explore it twice. 

Other artists are exploring emotional problems.  Misery by Jutai Toonoo, for example, so captures the emotion of its title that the work is not immediately recognizable as having been created by a Native artist since it defies our expectations.  Rendered in an expressionistic manner with a self-assured and mesmerizing use of line and color, the man in the drawing is a modern Everyman with no obvious reference to his race.  The viewer can relate to the suffering of the figure as part of the human condition.  Looking at Misery it is clear that the artist is in full command of his medium and that his intention is to address a global audience.   

Misery by Jutai Toonoo, oil stick on paper, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 40” x 26.5” (2008).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            As a collector, I find the new directions in Native art to be very exciting.  Native artists are assuming their rightful place as contemporary artists.  They are taking risks by exploring new forms of expression and by dealing with painful and controversial subjects.  I am constantly surprised by the work of emerging artists and established artists who seem to be stimulating one another to break with traditions while at the same time drawing inspiration from them.    

ART TREK:  The Next Generation (September 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Speaking to students about Native art is a profound experience.  I first became aware of this with my own students who could best be described as “uninterested”.  (I often joked that if I set myself ablaze in the front of the room they wouldn’t notice.)  However, when I brought in pieces from my collection to round out a lesson on the Iroquois Great Law of Peace, excerpted in our literature book, even students who had never participated in class before began to ask questions.  They were particularly taken with a pair of moccasins since they could immediately recognize them as “shoes” and, as fashionistas in the making, were more than willing to offer comments and opinions.  They were especially fascinated by the fact that the moccasins were over one hundred years old.  We then went on to consider whether they were everyday footwear or worn only for special occasions (because of the fancy beadwork) or, more likely, made for the tourist trade, which I explained.  We were even able to discuss the symbolism of colors and flowers, especially strawberry flowers which are a reference to the Iroquois afterlife.  I was amazed!  My classroom full of “dead people sitting upright” had come alive.

	Beaded moccasins with flower pattern; artist unknown; Iroquois; white, red, blue, gold, turquoise and clear beads on leather and velvet; (circa 1880s).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

Another surprise came when I did a presentation for my nephew’s fourth grade class.  (He’s now twenty-two.)  I brought in a variety of objects from my collection and showed slides of cliff dwellings and petroglyphs.  Afterward, these children posed some of the most thoughtful questions I’ve ever been asked about Native culture. 

	Thanks!! by Kyle Aron Burns, pencil & crayon, 6”h x 9”w (1997).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

A few weeks later I received a package containing a handmade thank you card from each an every student, illustrated with a crayon drawing of whatever aspect of my talk had most caught his or her attention.

	Thank You by Brendan Mulvey, pencil & crayon; Exterior: 8½”h x 5½”w; Interior: 8½”h x 11”w (1997).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Shortly after I retired, a cousin who taught special need students at the Orleans-Niagara BOCES in North Tonawanda, New York asked if I would fly to Buffalo to talk to developmentally disabled high school students about Inuit graphics.  Although I had no training in teaching physically and mentally challenged students, I jumped at the opportunity.  The art teachers had done a great job of laying the groundwork for me by having the students create a calendar of their drawings inspired by Inuit art.  As I passed around enlarged and laminated images of Inuit prints and drawings from my collection the students found two works particularly interesting: Oopik (Owl) by Jessie Oonark and Call of the Musk Ox by Kananginak Pootoogook. 

Oopik (Owl) by Jessie Oonark, Inuit, Baker Lake, linocut/stencil, edition 10/50, 15”h x 22”w, Printer: M. Noah, (1979).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

                Since owls aren’t bright yellow, using Oopik as a starting point we were able to talk about the difference between real owls and owls in art, which can be any color we can imagine.

Call of the Musk Ox by Kananginak Pootoogook, Inuit, Cape Dorset, Lithograph, 14/50 22½” x 30¼”, Cape Dorset Spring 2005 Print Collection #1.  Collection of E. J. Guarino

      It took one young man with speech difficulties nearly ten minutes to form his question but it was well worth the wait.   After seeing Call of the Musk Ox he wanted to know how he could learn more about these strange looking animals.  His teachers and I immediately put him on the Internet and he beamed as he looked at pictures of musk oxen.

      Recently, I gave a presentation at the Studio School, a private school in Manhattan with students ranging in age from eighteen months to fourteen years old.  I spoke to a mixed group of about thirty elementary and middle school students.  I selected objects  from my collection that I thought would have an immediate appeal to youngsters such as an Ancestral Puebloan mug, basketry hats, a basketry drinking cup, Huichol Indian children’s clothing, jewelry, an Iroquois cornhusk doll, a pair of Iroquois child’s moccasins,  katsinas, and a miniature parfleche.   

Ancestral Puebloan back-on-white mug, 3 7/8” x 3 5/8” (ca. A.D. 900 – 1300). Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Of course, the students immediately recognized the mug for what it is which led me to ask them why they thought I wasn’t holding it the by the handle as one would usually do.  “It’s fragile!” one student offered.  “Yes, it probably is, so I don’t want to take any chances that the handle might break off,” I said, “but what would cause that to happen?”   “It’s old!” a number of students called out.  “Yes, but how old?” I continued.  Various students offered their opinions but were, of course, way off.  When I told them that the mug was anywhere from seven hundred to over a thousand years old their faces registered sheer wonderment – something dear to any teacher’s heart.  

	Hupa woman’s basketry hat, artist unknown,Juneau, Alaska, Tlingit, 2”h x 4”w (circa 1910)
	Spruce root drinking cup from the Katzeek family,4” x 7” in diameter (circa 1890 – 1910)  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            I next brought out a basketry hat but I presented it upside down so it looked like a typical basket.  When I asked the students how they thought it had been used they hesitantly said, “To hold berries.” and “To hold nuts.”  When I finally revealed that it was, in fact, a hat worn by Hupa women on special occasions they were surprised. 

            The spruce root drinking cup really threw them.  Of course, just to be funny one student called out, “It’s a hat!”  We all laughed at that and then got serious.  I explained to the students that the piece was so tightly woven that it could hold water and originally it was kept moist so that it could be folded and easily carried.  Once again, the students were amazed by Native ingenuity. 

Makah polychrome twined whaler’s hat with whaling scenes, artist unknown, 11”h x 9½” in diameter at base (circa 1910).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            The students were also intrigued by the Makah whaler’s hat.  I told them that if they looked at the images on it they could figure out what it was used for and they did.  One student then suggested that it was probably not worn while whaling because that would not have been practical.  I agreed and we discussed how it may have been used in ceremonies that preceded a whale hunt. 

            Beyond their fascination with Native art, the students at the Studio School, like students at all educational levels, were curious about how I had become a collector.  They also wanted to know more about what I collected, how many pieces I had in my collection and if I had a favorite.  It was an opportunity to explain to the next generation the importance of being a collector and how to share what one has collected with others.    

For the last few years I have been invited to speak at Vassar College to the students taking Introduction to Native American Studies taught by Professor Patricia Wallace and Molly Glennen, a Native American who is a Postdoctoral Fellow in American Culture.  For me, it is a highlight.  The students are intelligent, eager and inquisitive and the professors couldn’t be more accommodating.  

Harmony Vase by Al Qoyawayma, Hopi, carved Hopi designs on both sides and cut out in the form of an Ancestral Puebloan doorway, 7”h x 4 1/8” w (1996).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

I never know what will excite the interest of the Vassar students but they are usually struck by images of Inuit graphics, something most have never seen before, and by the pottery, especially Harmony Vase by Al Qoyawayma and a pot by Jody Folwell that is reminiscent of ledger book drawings and petroglyphs.  The students enjoy hearing about the allusion of the cut out to Ancestral Puebloan architecture and are curious about ledger books and petroglyphs.  Such discussions allow me to suggest to students that they someday visit Mesa Verde, Canyon de Chelly, and Chaco Canyon to understand more fully the complexities of Pueblo culture.  Of course, I always bring along the Hupa woman’s basketry hat and the Tlingit spruce root drinking cup.  Like their younger counterparts, the Vassar students are always astonished by these two objects.  

Jody Folwell, Santa Clara Ledger drawing pot, 6.5”w x 5.5”h (2006).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

       As collectors it is important for us to start the younger generation on the trek of collecting Native art.  It is a marvelous journey on which they will acquire beautiful objects, meet interesting people, learn about life through art and discover a deep and complex culture.  It is not only important for young people to learn how to collect but also why.  Collecting art, especially Native art, and living with it enriches our lives and, more importantly, the lives of everyone with whom we share it.

Many State Education Departments mandate that Native culture is to be incorporated into classroom lessons but they usually provide no instruction for teachers on how to do so.  Collectors can provide much needed and welcome assistance by contacting local elementary schools, high schools and colleges and offering to talk to students about Native art and how to collect it.  If what you collect is not easily transportable, consider doing a PowerPoint presentation of photographs. 

            Although I have heard quite a number of discussions about cultivating the next generation of Native artists, I am unaware of any about the next generation of collectors.  Whenever I attend events that attract collectors I am invariably surrounded by people of my own age and older.  Rarely do I see those in their twenties or thirties.  There are a number of reasons for this, the most obvious being that young people just don’t have a great deal of discretionary money to spend on art.  They are paying off student loans, getting married and starting or raising families. 

The problem is more complex, however.  While the subject of Art is taught in our schools, in most areas of our country Native American art is not included since most teachers haven’t been exposed to or educated about Native art and culture.  You can’t teach what you haven’t learned. 

Perhaps the largest stumbling block is that most people just don’t know that they can become a collector, believing that it is something reserved for the wealthy.  Growing up lower middle class (my father was an auto mechanic, my mom a housewife) there were many things I was told I couldn’t do because we were “not in that category,” code for “It is out of our class” and “We can’t afford it.”  Collecting Native art, then, was something I just sort of fell into because it was one of the very few things no one ever told me I couldn’t do because they could never imagine it in the first place.  The idea of an Italian-American kid growing up to collect Native art would have been laughable, followed by a collective, “Who does he think he is!”

Fortunately, I did discover Native art, in spite of the fact that there was no mention of it in high school or college, and early on I found mentors who not only taught me the skills of being an astute collector but they showed me that I could collect on a limited income.

Over the years as I’ve lectured on Native art, I have found that young and old alike have assumed that since I am a collector I must be rich.  When I reveal that I was a high school teacher they are surprised.  It wasn’t much different with my own students who were well aware that each year our school district vied with another for the dubious distinction of having the lowest paid teachers in the entire county.  I always keep this in mind when I speak at schools, making it a point to say that I am not wealthy.  It makes it clear to the students that if I could do it so can they.  I then tell them some of my strategies for collecting on a limited budget such as using layaway, saving loose change to build up an art fund and collecting the work of emerging artists.  (See “It’s Not Where You Start,” November, 2007 and “Collecting Tips for Novices,” Native Peoples magazine, January/February, 2007) 

As collectors we often have relationships with artists, galleries and museums but that is not enough.  We must not only help incorporate Native art and culture into curricula, we must encourage young people to become collectors and show them how it can be done.  Bringing works from our collections to schools affords students the opportunity of seeing art up close without a glass barrier and, perhaps, even to touch some pieces, two experiences most people rarely have.    

Naked Truth (August 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Sex and nudity have the power to make people uncomfortable.  For some, the words are interchangeable and highly charged.  Although the Nude has had a long history in the Western art cannon, such works have elicited controversy and, sometimes, outrage.  During the Renaissance, for example, some Church authorities were scandalized by the nudity in Michelangelo’s The Last Judgment (1535 - 1541).  The papal Master of Ceremonies, among others, complained often to Pope Paul III that “it was a most dishonest act in such a respectable place to have painted so many naked figures immodestly revealing their shameful parts, that it was not a work for a papal chapel but for a bathhouse or house of ill-fame.”  Eventually, the figures were painted over so that they would appear to be covered with cloth.  It was only in the last century that the frescoes were restored and the artist’s true intentions revealed.  In more recent times, reproductions of Michelangelo’s David often bore a fig leaf to cover the offending parts and, even today, in some quarters a simple image of a nude body might be condemned as pornographic.            Nudity and sexuality as themes raise even more complex issues for Native artists.  Although rare, the nude figure and the erotic can be found in Native art but this subject matter is avoided, however, by most artists out of fear of disapproval since Western Judeo-Christian ideas about sexuality have long been ingrained in the Native psyche.  Of course, the mere depiction of the naked human form is not necessarily erotic, though some might disagree.  Throughout history artists have used the Nude to explore sensuality, power, gender relations, and religion, as well as sexuality.  Some have offered us the human body to contemplate as the most perfect example of beauty, Creation’s masterpiece.         

Ironically, the erotic has always been a part of Native art and sexually explicit imagery can be found on the ceramics of the Mimbres, an ancient Southwestern culture that flourished between 200 B.C. and 1150 A.D., to give just one example.  However, erotic works by Native artists are often overlooked by collectors and ignored by museums.  Native sexuality remains an under explored area perhaps because a non-sexual Indian is a non-threatening one.  For some, the fusion of Native art and Native sexuality is an explosive combination.  For example, although Norval Morrisseau (Anishnaabe), one of Canada’s most famous modern artists and founder of the Woodland school of painting, created a large body of erotic art, critics and museum curators usually omit this aspect of his work.  However, a number of Native artists continue to create works of an erotic nature, including those that reference sexuality without employing the human form.

35/36 by Annie Pootoogook, collagraph and stencil on Arches white paper; Printer: Sylvia Bendzsa; Edition: 30 Inuit, Cape Dorset 17” x 30” (2006) Collection of E. J. Guarino

For example, Annie Pootoogook’s print 35/36, supposedly inspired by her own bra, functions on a number of levels.  The artist has subverted the common Inuit printmaking practice of isolating one iconic image by replacing the expected depiction of Arctic wildlife with a modern undergarment.  In doing so, Annie has created a subtly erotic contemporary still life that slyly leads the viewer to consider the subject of Inuit sexuality.

Mermaid plate by Glen Nipshank, Big Stone Cree, turquoise, pearl, 10” indiameter (2009).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

         Recently, Glen Nipshank has produced a series of plates depicting a nude woman.  This series is a departure for the artist both in form and subject matter.  Most noted for his decidedly non-traditional ceramic pots, Glen began exploring the human form in what has been called his “human suggestive” pieces.  His mermaid plates take the experiment further, combining abstraction and representation in the same work.  Some of the mermaids in the series have tails, others do not.  Although the body is sculpted, the face is represented by a piece of turquoise as are the stars in the night sky.  With flowing hair, the mermaid rests on a sandy micaceous beach, her back to the sculpted waves.  According to the artist, the piece was inspired by two sources.  The actual figure of the mermaid is based on a woman with flowing hair named Laura.  Turquoise is her birthstone.  The other inspiration was a story his mother told him when he was a child.   He said that when his grandmother was around ten years old she saw mermaids at a lake called Wabasca.  One of the creatures gave her some pearls and told her to wear them all her life which she did.

Unusual Type of Animal by Eliza Naranjo-Morse, Santa Clara, stencil and spray- paint on newsprint 5/15, 35”h x 24”w (2009).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Emerging artist Eliza Naranjo-Morse also explored the nude form in Unusual Type of Animal.  The work is somewhat ambiguous because of the perspective the artist has chosen to employ.  Because of the muscularity of the body, the bald head and what might be armbands or tattoos, one might think that the figure is male but it could just as easily be female, causing the viewer to reconsider assumptions about gender.  The title of the piece is also provocative, making-clear that the artist wants us to contemplate the unique place the human body holds in the animal kingdom.   

“Torso” by Oviloo Tunnillie, Inuit, Cape Dorset, serpentine, 7”h and 4”w at the base (2003) Collection of E. J. Guarino

Nudity is also uncommon in Inuit art.  However, Oviloo Tunnillie has often turned to the female nude as a theme, producing what has become known as her “Torso Series”.  Commenting on these sculptures, the artist stated, “I wanted to show others what a woman’s body is like and I didn’t want to be shy about it.”  Oviloo is a contemporary artist who happens to be Inuit.  Her work, which is deeply personal and very emotional, often explores difficult social themes such as sexual abuse and alcoholism from a woman’s point of view.  Nothing is off limits for Oviloo.  Atypically, (for an Inuit artist) she has done sculptures of airplanes, a football player, figure skaters, a gymnast as well as other “Southerners” such as a man in a suit, a women in high-heels, nurses, nuns and social workers.      

David Divincheke 2008 June by Shuvinai Ashoona, Inuit, Cape Dorset, ink, pencil crayon, 34.5” x 18” (2007/08).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

         Inuit graphic artists, both male and female, have also created works portraying nude figures, though they are not well known to many collectors and curators.  In David Divincheke 2008 June by Shuvinai Ashoona it is clear that the artist has been exposed to the work of Michelangelo.  However, though the David is clearly the inspiration for the drawing it is merely a starting point for a modern artist’s unique vision.  Besides the nude Biblical male, Shuvinai has added a number of her own colorful, charming and perplexing touches.  In general, Shuvinai’s work tends to be dark and humorous, often containing idiosyncratic symbols that clearly mean something to the artist but often defy interpretation.  By juxtaposing the familiar, the David, and the bizarre, the tree with its dangling oddities, the artist creates a disturbing sense of disorientation in the viewer, which gives the work a surrealistic quality.  What it all means is anybody’s guess but it is certainly quite wonderful to contemplate. 

Untitled (Man and Bees) by Arnaqu Ashevak, ink, pencil, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 26” x 20” (1997/98). Collection of E. J. Guarino

In stark contrast Arnaqu Ashevak’s Untitled (Man and Bees) shows a nude, hairless male being attacked by larger than life bees.  Reminiscent of the torments inflicted by the Furies in Greek mythology, the black and white drawing may reflect the suffering that comes to all humans and may have been inspired by the swarms of insects that plague inhabitants of the Arctic during the warmer months.  Ashevak is a complex modern artist who takes inspiration from a variety of sources to examine the human condition – photographs, television, movies, art history, nature, local events, and art history,  – while drawing from his own Inuit culture.

A diverse range of contemporary Native artists are incorporating the erotic and the nude figure into their work despite the risk of censure from their own communities and the possibility of rejection from collectors.  I only recently discovered this aspect of Native art and acquiring it has added more depth to my collection.   I find it refreshing that Native artists like other contemporary artists are claiming their right to explore any aspect of the human condition they choose and I look forward to some museum having the courage to mount an exhibition of such art by Native artists.  

Art or NART x 2 (July 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            At the recent ArtExpo New York 2009, billed as the world’s largest international art fair, I was confronted with oversized portraits of celebrities in Day-Glo colors – Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Madonna, Jack Nicholson and Al Pacino (as Scarface) - as well as paintings of various sports and the athletes who play them in the style of Leroy Neiman.  Female nudes, breasts thrust forward, were prominent, looking very much like the covers of cheap romance novels.  Interestingly, though not surprisingly for this venue, there were no male nudes in any medium.  I had attended ArtExpo last year and, although promoters hail it as having the most exciting and innovative art, once again I was disappointed (appalled might be a better word) by what I saw and what I didn’t see.  Overwhelmingly, substance was eschewed, glitz embraced and the subject matter was banal and sentimental.

It was astonishing how many of the works continue to be imitative.  Booths offered faux Jackson Pollocks, ballerinas in the style of Degas, quite a few Monet-like landscapes, more than one “revisitation” of Monet’s water lilies series and this year something completely new – copies of classic paintings with a bird’s head wearing oversized eyeglasses superimposed. 

            For those who collect such things, there were portraits of cats, dogs, horses, giraffes, elephants and all manner of sea life as well as images of hearts, children’s faces done in a self-consciously naïve style, Spanish dancers, and romanticized paintings of China and Chinese people.

            Thrown into the mix were sculptures of King Kong, something called 3D abstracts, and “message art.”  There was even a booth offering textile art, but Navajo weavers certainly have nothing to fear.

            Seeing all that the art fair had to offer I had one thought: This has been done to death.  Added to this was the cult of the artist as celebrity with a few in attendance (some with only one name ala Cher and Madonna) signing autographs for adoring fans while promoters spoke of them with hyperbole that would put a politician to shame.  One artist, in fact, was actually referred to as a “rock star”.

Of course, all large art events can take on a circus atmosphere and sometimes elicit the equivalent of a feeding frenzy on the part of collectors.  However, if the art is good it rises above such petty considerations, but when one is being served nart (something that passes itself off as art) one may wonder why the effort was made to attend the art fair in the first place.  It is the difference between a truly fine meal, expertly prepared and presented, and an all-you-can-eat steam table buffet. 

Native American art, on the other hand, is the antithesis of nart.  It is heartfelt, draws on a rich ancient tradition and is usually accessible.  A pot is clearly a pot and a basket obviously a basket, but once drawn in the viewer can begin to contemplate a deeper significance – symbolism, cultural references, and use of form.  Native American artists work in a wide range of media some traditional, others not – pottery, basket making, textiles, beadwork, sculpture, painting, printmaking, and photography to name but a few.  However, I have never found Native American art to be banal and, with rare exceptions, it is not cloyingly sentimental.

Inuit artist Kenojuak Ashevak, for example, who is well into her eighties, is still producing powerful, thought provoking prints as well as drawings and works on glass.  Her unique vision has made her one of Canada’s most important contemporary artists whose work is sought after by museums and collectors throughout the world. 

Out From The Night by Kenojuak Ashevak, etching & aquatint, 33/50; Inuit, Cape Dorset, 33” x 42,” Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection #15 (2000).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Kenojuak’s work is always fresh and surprising, ranging from the representational to the delightfully surreal.  Although her experiments are subtle rather than obvious, unlike nart, her work is always arresting and each viewing reveals a new layer of meaning.           

            Of the younger generation of Inuit artists, Siassie Kenneally presents the familiar and even the mundane from a unique perspective.  Not unlike Georgia O’Keeffe who made us see flowers in a new and exciting way, Siassie has the ability to make us see loveliness in unexpected places.  In her drawing Male Fish Gut, she takes as her subject something that most would regard as disgusting and ugly and through her artistry reveals its beauty and delicacy.  

Male Fish Gut by Siassie Kenneally, pencil crayon, ink, Inuit Cape Dorset, 30” x 44” (2006) Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Breathtaking is a word frequently used by collectors when speaking of Hubert Candelario’s “holey” pots.  In such works the artist has pushed the boundaries of the ceramic form to the very edge of the medium’s possibilities.  I have seen more than one collector gasp when one of these light, airy and utterly amazing works was put into his or her hands.  Holding such a piece many people are struck with a sense of disbelief and are so astonished that they blurt out, “How does he do this?”

Octagonal “holey” seedpot by Hubert Candelario, San Felipe, 8”h x 6”w (2007) Collection of E. J. Guarino

             Innovative and experimental are adjectives most often associated with the work of Jason Garcia.  For some time now he has been producing ceramic tiles that examine and comment on contemporary Pueblo life.  One of his most popular tile motifs has been Grand Theft Auto: Santa Clara Pueblo, which uses the popular video game to present historical and modern aspects of the pueblo such as Puye Ruins, pottery, motorcycles, casinos and golf courses.  Such material is intended to upset many viewers’ preconceived notations about Native Americans and Native American art, forcing them to reconsider long held beliefs.  Unlike nart, thought is required. 

Grand Theft Auto: Santa Clara Pueblo by Jason Garcia, Santa Clara, mineral pigments on clay, 7”w x 9”h (2006).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

 Although she works in a variety of media, Gail Tremblay’s film baskets, usually fashioned from 16 or 35mm film stock, are considered her signature pieces.  They reference traditional Iroquois fancy baskets but are thoroughly modern, blending ancient weaving techniques and contemporary materials.  Gail has taken an art form that has usually stereotyped Native Americans and has literally bent it to her will.  She also chooses pointed titles for her baskets that make social, historical or political comments.  Remembering Wild Strawberries, for example, not only alludes to Iroquois traditions and beliefs but also to Swedish director Ingmar Bergman’s film Wild Strawberries.  There are always many levels of meaning to contemplate in Gail’s work.  One can return to her baskets again and again to mine their richness, something one cannot do with nart.  

Remembering Wild Strawberries by Gail Tremblay, Onondaga Iroquois, 16mm film stock, red leader and metallic yarn and braid, 7 ½” x 5” in diameter (2004).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

             It is only in the last few decades that the Huichol Indians of Mexico have chosen to become engaged with the world beyond their isolated villages deep in the Sierra Madre Mountains.  In that time they have drawn on their culture to produce beaded objects and yarn drawings that are collected worldwide.  Recently one artist named Neikame (José Carrillo Morales) has produced watercolors and paintings, non-traditional art forms that still reference the shamanistic roots of Huichol art.  Combining acrylic paints and beadwork, Neikame has created works with a three-dimensional quality unlike anything previously seen among Huichol artists.

Tatuwani (Traditional Governor), mixed media painting on cardboard by Neikame (José Carrillo Morales), Huichol, Mexico, acrylic paints, beads; 11”h x 14”w (2007).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            As a collector it is thrilling to discover artists who are excited about their art, especially when their art is so deeply a part of who they are.  So much of nart is simply about surface and technique, business and ego.  It is the artistic version of “Look, ma, no hands!”  Beyond that, there isn’t much else to experience.  In works of nart there is little depth and not much feeling.  Nart is to the visual arts what musak is to music.  Fortunately, very little Native art falls into that category because it draws on deep cultural traditions while still managing to have a dialogue with the contemporary world.

            When I look at works in my collection that I acquired five, ten or even twenty-five years ago they still excite and inspire me.  They always offer something new to see.  That wasn’t the case with what I saw at ArtExpo New York 2009, since most of the artists and their work were simply brand name products promoted to a public willing to buy because they had been told that their purchase would go up in value.  .  

 See also “Art or NART (January 2008)

Impact, or I'm Glad I'm Not Young Anymore (June 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            Recently, I attended a number of New York art exhibits, which featured new art.  As a collector of Native art, seeing them led me to compare what I saw with works produced by Native artists.  One show featured only young artists which prompted an artist friend of mine to comment that it brought to mind lyrics sung by Maurice Chevalier in the film Gigi: “I’m glad I’m not young anymore.”

            For some years now, Chelsea, an area situated below 30^th Street and above 14^th Street on Manhattan’s far West Side, has taken precedence over Soho as the place to see cutting edge art by emerging and established artists.  Lately, however, new art venues including the New Museum for Contemporary Art have sprung up in the Bowery, a long rundown area of the city.  The museum’s most recent offering “The Generational: Younger than Jesus,” a title that might be mildly offensive to some Christians especially since the exhibit opened during the Easter season, presented the work of fifty artists who are thirty-three and younger.  Taking up the gauntlet, a commercial gallery across the street from the museum mounted an exhibit of works by artists born before 1927 called “Wiser than God,” another title sure to offend some people. 

The underlying assumption of “The Generational” seems to be that only artists who are thirty-three or younger, often referred to as Millennials, Generation Y or the iGeneration, are capable of producing edgy art.  As a collector of Native art, this has certainly not been my experience.  Inuit artist Kenojuak Ashevak for example, produced the wildly surreal Ravens Entwined when she was seventy-seven.

Ravens Entwined by Kenojuak Ashevak, lithograph on Arches cover cream paper,

Printer: Pitseolak Niviaqsi, 39/50; Inuit, Cape Dorset, 2.5”h x 30”w, Cape Dorset Annual          Print Collection #11 (2004).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            In reviewing “The Generational,” one critic referred to the work of one Gen Y artist using the term “wise omniscience,” an odd choice of words to apply to one so young.  Of course, young people can be wise and older folks can make childish mistakes, hence the phrase “wise beyond his years” and the saying “There’s no fool like an old fool.”  Generally, however, the longer one lives the broader one’s perspective becomes.  Things are seen in an historical context.  Unfortunately, when we are young “history” often means anything beyond last week and “old’ is anyone over thirty.  (I now wince whenever I recall saying “Never trust anyone over thirty” in the 60s and 70s.)

            “The Generational,” the New Museum’s first triennial survey of emerging artists from around the world, presents works in a wide range of media: painting, collage, drawing, film (including animation), video, audio, performance as well as mixed media and installation pieces.  The exhibition asks whether artists of the same generation but who were raised in a variety of cultures can have a stylistic unity.  Not surprisingly, no Native artists were included. 

The works in “The Generational” are certainly fascinating as well as thought provoking but tend to dwell almost exclusively on the negative aspects of life.  So much of the art seems to be saying, “Life is so difficult.”  (Note to the Millennials: It’s not going to get easier.) 

            Most of the art in “The Generational” is calculated to be provocative, upsetting or, at the very least, annoying – something we’ve come to expect from young mainstream artists.  However, some of the works chosen for inclusion certainly stretch the definition of art and what it means to be an artist.      

            One installation piece, titled This is Carlijin, consists of a woman wrapped in sheets and sleeping on a bed, of sorts, and employs a series of women who take sleeping pills (euphemistically referred to as “sleeping aids”).  According to the accompanying wall label, the piece raises questions about our casual use of drugs, the museum environment as well as a host of other issues.

            In other works, the “art” consists of an idea supplied by the artist.  In Installation (Banana Peel), for example, a museum employee was told to eat a banana each morning and then drop the peel somewhere in the exhibition space.  According to the curatorial notes, this can be seen as “an insolent soiling of the antiseptic ‘white box’ [the exhibit space] . . . .”  For another work the artist simply designated the museum’s hours of operation, posted on the front of the building, as one of her works of art.  It was described as “ready made magic.”  The Native art market is generally free of such hyperbole and invented art terms, which can put another form of pressure on artists. 

            As humans we have an inherent need for order and for this reason we will superimpose meaning even if there is none.  Art that consists solely of a concept is certainly not to everyone’s taste but it does stimulate discussion, something appealing to an iGeneration.

            Many young artists are creating fascinating and stimulating art but such work is not confined to one generation alone.  The general mindset seems to be that if an artist hasn’t gained recognition (whatever that means) by his or her thirties then the work can’t be very good.  The fact is that there are emerging artists in their forties, fifties, sixties, seventies and, I would imagine, even in their eighties.

In the past, many creative young people did not receive the emotional or financial support of family and friends.  Often they were discouraged outright from pursuing a career in the arts.  The practical was stressed – getting a steady job, raising a family, paying bills, and feeding, clothing and educating the children.  Artistic endeavors were relegated to hobbies or something that was done “on the side.”  However, many of these part-time artists return to their true calling once they retire.  A banker I know has acted his whole life but, for a variety of reasons, was never able to make a career of it.  He is retiring soon and is planning to act professionally. 

            In the literary arts, Helen Hooven Santmyer spent sixty years writing “. . . And the Ladies of the Club”.  When the novel was published it eventually became a bestseller and the author, who was then in her late eighties and living in a nursing home, was hailed as an “overnight success”.

            Also, when Cervantes’ The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote de La Mancha was published the author was fifty-eight years old and virtually unknown, although he had been writing for years.

I take great delight in collecting the works of emerging artists but these artists are not always young.  One of my favorite works in my collection is Field of Verse, which was produced by Arnirnik Ragee when she first started to create art at sixty-nine years old. 

Field of Verse by Anirnik Ragee, lithograph on Arches cover cream paper,

Printer: Pitseolak Niviaqsi, 39/50; Inuit, Cape Dorset, 14”h x 14”w, Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection #2 (2004).  Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Recently, I met a late emerging artist who confided that she’s only been painting for ten years and, while she is at the mature end of the Baby Boomer Generation, she most certainly considers herself an emerging artist and went so far as to suggest “The Generational: The Baby Boomers” as an exhibit. 

            The Metropolitan Museum of Art has also become engaged in this discussion by offering “The Pictures Generation, 1974 – 1984” which presents painting, drawing, prints, sculpture, photography, video, books and installation pieces by Baby Boomer artists, most of whom are still creating art today.

Rather than divide artistic generations, it is more interesting to present a multi-generational exhibit of works by emerging and established artists, allowing for a dialogue through art, as was the case when I attended the Twelfth Annual Sculpture, Objects, and Functional Art Fair (SOFA: New York).  The art presented by the participating galleries was stellar and represented a wide range of media, styles, ages, and ethnicities, including Native American and Inuit.      

            The multi-cultural and generational mix at SOFA brought to mind the fact that no generational divide seems to exist among Native artists, perhaps because it is a cultural tradition for older, established artists to mentor younger ones who are appreciative for such help.  Santa Clara potter Jody Folwell sometimes collaborates with her daughters Polly Rose and Susan.  Jody Folwell has also collaborated with emerging artist Jason Garcia.  Among Inuit artists, Annie Pootoogook, Shuvinai Ashoona and Siassie Kenneally, all in their forties, often work side by side in Cape Dorset’s graphic arts studios along with younger and older artists.

            New York art exhibits can range from the sublime to the ridiculous and often so much of what is presented is intentionally provocative since that’s what gets attention.  Many of the offerings seem to illustrate the advice of Mazeppa, the aging stripper in the Broadway musical Gypsy: “You gotta have a gimmick if you wanna have a chance.”

In the past, there have been exhibits presenting a photo of a crucifix submerged in a jar of urine; a sculpture of a nude, anatomically correct Christ done in chocolate, calculatedly presented during Holy Week; a painting of the Virgin Mary incorporating elephant dung; as well as paintings trivializing the Holocaust.  Needless to say, all of these works were, and still are, highly controversial.

Shocking and provoking the viewer has a long tradition in Western art.  However, with few exceptions, such is not the case with Native art.  Although more and more frequently Native artists are tackling controversial issues and subject matter, their approach is different.  Rather than alienating their audience, they draw them in, seeking to win them over, often employing the softening effect of humor.  While Native artists continually push the boundaries of their art, generally, they don’t seem to have a need to offend.  When critiques are leveled they are aimed at social problems, governmental policies, historical events, and human foibles.  “In your face” confrontation, often found in mainstream art, has no tradition in Native culture. 

Native artists have blurred the divisions between craft and fine art by constantly demanding excellence of themselves.  They have pushed the limits of form in works such as Ball and Chain Vase by Marcus Wall while remaining true to cultural traditions rather than passing off machine-produced products as art.  A recent advertisement I saw promises “Hand painted Canvas Art!  Talented artists transform your photo into digitally hand painted canvas art,” in spite of the fact that “digitally hand painted” is a contradiction of terms. 

Brown micaceous Ball and Chain Vase by Marcus Wall, Jemez Pueblo, 10”h x 6”w

(2008). Collection of E. J. Guarino

While a number of Native artists, such as Annie Pootoogook and Luke Anowtalik, both Inuit, incorporate references to popular culture into their work, they do so with a uniquely Native spin.

So far, museums exhibiting Native art have not “gone mainstream,” following the trend to pander to the broadest possible audience.  One important Southern art museum, for example, is offering an exhibit on the work of Jim Henson, creator of the Muppets, replete with puppets and movie and TV props.  Though perhaps better suited to a museum dedicated to the mass media, the show is sure to draw legions of multi-generational fans of Sesame Street, thus increasing revenues.  However, institutions such as the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, the Heard Museum, the Eiteljorg Museum, the Denver Art Museum and others continue to educate the public, using Native art to foster an appreciation for art in general. 

It is unclear what impact trends in the mainstream art world will have on Native art.  As more and more Native artists move beyond the Native niche, gaining representation in mainstream galleries, it will be interesting to see if they succumb to the pressures of creating with an eye to what the mainstream art market expects or if they will continue to follow their own unique vision while drawing on their cultural heritage.

    In the meantime, so-called mainstream artists and art institutions can certainly learn from Native art.  A wider range of media can be appreciated and employed (pottery, beadwork, and basketry come to mind just to name a few) and artists need not be segregated by age group.  Also, artists may re-evaluate the notion of “confrontational art,” a mainstay of the contemporary art scene, since it can have the exact opposite effect than the one intended, resulting in viewers closing their minds rather than being open to new ideas.  Native artists believe that art is a combination of skill and aesthetic.   It is not enough for a piece to be technically perfect or just visually arresting.  It must be both.  This is a reflection of the Native world view that everything must be in balance.  As Native artists gain wider recognition in the new Millennium the work they create will force museums and the pubic to re-evaluate long held notions about art and what it means to be an artist.                    

Times is Hard: Collecting in Tough Financial Times (May 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

These days with words and phrases such as bankruptcy, foreclosures, economic crisis, and financial bailouts screaming from our radios and TVs, Mrs. Lovett’s lyrics from the Broadway musical Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street come to mind: “Times is Hard.”   It is no wonder that many collectors are jittery about spending money on art.  However, other words written over 1,000 years ago by Lady Murasaki Shikibu in her novel The Tale of Genji may offer some comfort: “Nothing lasts, everything changes.  That is the way of the world.”

            A few months ago I had the opportunity to interview a number of gallery owners and staff in Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado.  One of the questions I asked was, “As a gallery person, what advice would you give to collectors in these difficult economic times?”  To a person, the response was the same:  Buy what you love and buy the very best your budget will allow.

            As surprising as it may seem, the term economic crisis has never frightened me.  As a teacher in a low paying school district, everyday required economic choices.  I knew that if I bought this I couldn’t have that.  I had to decide what was truly important to me.  Of course, paying my bills came first but beyond that I realized that I was passionate about building a collection and, as someone with limited funds, certain things would have to be sacrificed.  One of the first things to go was my daily espresso drink, quickly followed by expensive clothes and a sharp reduction in entertainment spending.  I have never regretted the decisions I made. 

            When I retired from teaching to write and lecture on Native art my annual income dropped by over twenty percent and I worried that I would never again be able to add to my collection, thus rendering it no longer “living” for to be considered as such a collection must grow and change.  However, over the years, through national downturns and upturns, I have managed to acquire new works of art.  I have done so by doing my research, becoming an astute collector, and by collecting art before it has caught the interest of most other collectors.  Long before they were considered of interest I collected Inuit drawings, Huichol Indian works on paper and cardboard, Mexican amate paper (hand made mulberry bark paper) drawings.  I also find it profitable to collect works by emerging artists. 

            However, the one constant in almost thirty years of collecting has been my use of layaway plans.  At first I was extremely embarrassed to ask about putting things on layaway but a staff member at an important Canadian Inuit gallery set me straight.  “If it weren’t for layaway,” she said, “no one would own any art.”  It was a statement made with honesty and conviction and I never forgot it.

Black-on-white water jar with Tularosa-style design by Juana Leno, Acoma, 6 7/8” x 10” (c. 1975). Collection of E. J. Guarino; purchased using layaway.

            One gallery owner recently expressed his relief at having a number of pieces on layaway.  It meant that each month there was income he could count on.  Layaway is a win-win situation.  It not only helps collectors acquire pieces they could not afford to buy outright but it also affords galleries a guaranteed income. 

Black and red-on-white pot with five heartline deer by Lucy Lewis, Acoma, 5¼” x 8 1/8” (c. 1970s) Collection of E.J. Guarino; purchased using layaway.

            Every gallery has a payment plan and most galleries will even work with collectors to develop an individualized payment schedule.  Gallery owners want you to have the piece you love and are willing to do what they can to help you acquire it. 

Kitchecut by William Noah, watercolor, Inuit, Baker Lake, 20” x 26” (2000). Collection of E. J. Guarino; purchased using layaway.

            Using layaway also affords collectors the opportunity to develop a relationship with gallery personnel.  Owners and their staff are a great resource.  They are highly knowledgeable and are willing to share any information they may have.   

Beaded bandolier bag with strawberry and hummingbird design by Sam Thomas, Cayuga Iroquois,; red, green, white, and clear beads and sequins on red velvet, 46” x 17 3/8” with strap and fringe (2003).  Collection of E. J. Guarino; purchased from the artist using layaway.

            Also, it is important to remember that now is not the time to look for bargains.  In a recent New York Times article Horace Wood Brock, a prominent collector of European decorative arts and old master drawings from the mid-16^th to the early 19^th century, stated, “I’ve never had a bargain in my life, but the only real bargain is quality.”

Not only is art a good investment but, more importantly, it transcends time and defies death.  It is one of the things that can help us get through the hard times. 

            Collecting keeps me hopeful and optimistic since it connects me with people of different ages, races, ethnicities and religions.  Discovering new, emerging artists as well as seeing work by established ones lifts my spirits.  It shows me that, no matter how difficult things get, humans continue to be creative. 

            Rather than dwell on the negative, I prefer to counter the dire messages of the mass media by contemplating the works of art in my collection and bringing to mind words such as beauty, timelessness, and tranquility.  As Lady Murasaki Skikibu would remind us, were she alive today, it is important to remember that nothing lasts forever, not even an economic crisis. 

The Perfect Gift:  More About Museum Donations (April 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            For many collectors, donating to a museum is the first thing that comes to mind when they finally get around to thinking about what is to become of their collection.  They often see museums as an easy way out, believing that gifting art to cultural institutions requires no research or planning and that museums accept everything that is offered to them.  This mind set is what Michael Mendelsohn, author of Life is Short, Art is Long: Maximizing Estate Planning Strategies for Collectors of Art, Antiques, and Collectables, calls the “default option.”  Rather than having a carefully laid out strategy as they do for their other assets, collectors often have no plan for a collection that has taken them a lifetime to build.  In fact, in most cases, when financial assets are being considered art collections are simply overlooked.

Polychrome olla, artist unknown, Acoma, 9”h x 10”w (c. mid-20th century) Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

Of course there are other options for the disposition of ones collection such as selling or auctioning but these engender estate taxes and commissions which often cause the collector to lose 70% or more of his collection’s value. 

            Donating to a museum, especially in these difficult economic times, is certainly admirable as well as rewarding.  However, it is a process that must be entered into with caution so as to avoid missteps and outright pitfalls.  It is important that the collector establish a dialogue with the receiving institution to clarify his or her wishes with regard to the pieces being donated and to better understand the museum’s needs. 

           One way to begin is to become involved with a museum or cultural institution you admire.  Doing so will allow you to meet curators, conservators, registrars and, if possible, the director.  You can then discuss your collection and your desire to donate art works and whether or not the museum is interested in acquiring them.

            As collectors we are often promoters of the type of art we collect and we want to share the cultural legacy we have created by donating to museums.  However noble this may be, there are a number of practical considerations to bear in mind.

            Museums have donation as well as deaccession policies which a collector should study and understand fully before donating.  Also, a museum must have the staff and facilities necessary to display and preserve your gift.  A friend of mine, for example, wanted to donate a painted buffalo hide to a college museum but, although the piece was spectacular, it was refused because the institution did not have the proper conservation capabilities or staff with the appropriate expertise to care for such materials. 

            It is also imperative to remember that there are no guarantees.  Out of necessity, museums must change and evolve.  When there is a shift in direction, even a slight one, it may be praised as adventurous and an example of forward thinking or damned as foolhardy and shortsighted.  Certainly the Heard Museum is not exactly the same as it was when I first encountered it over forty years ago, but although it has expanded its collecting into areas such as Inuit art and has reached out to the public through branches in two of Phoenix’s satellite communities it has never veered from its mission to acquire, preserve, study, promote and present the best of Native art.

            However, the evolution of many other museums has not been as felicitous.  When Solomon R. Guggenheim amassed one of the most important collections of abstract art in the world I doubt that he ever envisioned that one day his museum would host an exhibit of motorcycles.

            More recently it was revealed that Brandeis University is reconsidering the future of its Rose Art Museum.  Because the school’s endowment has plummeted and donations are expected to fall short, the university announced its goal of closing the museum and selling off works of art to raise money.  This decision has been so controversial that Brandeis has been forced to declare that, for the foreseeable future, no art works will be sold.

            As collectors we must not forget that, even in museums, things change.  What is on display today could, a few years from now, fall out of favor and be placed in storage for decades or even sold.  Most of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s collection of Greek antiquities, for example, had been in storage for over fifty years and has only recently once again seen the light of day when it was installed, with much fanfare, in an expanded and redesigned gallery.

            Although there are guidelines for many aspects of the museum profession none exist for what is to be acquired or how and when it is to be presented.  Exhibits reflect the educational backgrounds, interests and, on occasion, the biases of museum staff.  Also, when curators arrive or depart the acquisition policies of an institution can change.  However, as collectors we have the ability to broaden the artistic awareness of museum staff, provided they are open minded.  Everyone, for example, at the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College, including its director, Dr. James Mundy, has wholeheartedly embraced Native American and Inuit art, collecting areas new to the museum. 

Pot with brown and orange designs on buff by Miriam Nampeyo, Hopi, 5”h x 5”w (1998) Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

             In the past, museums tried to educate visitors by exposing them to a wide range of art and art movements, supported by scholarly wall labels.  Sadly, today many prestigious institutions want museum-goers to have an “experience,” vying with the mass media for attention.  Often specific audiences are targeted in a crass attempt to increase revenue.  In the last few years, major New York museums have presented exhibits on hip-hop “culture”, tattoos, the disco era as well as the aforementioned one on motorcycles at the Guggenheim.  All were fun and informative but hardly art or even educational, except in the broadest sense of those words. 

            Because of such museum trends collectors must chose wisely before donating.  If it is important that works from your collection be seen consider smaller, regional museums.  If it is more appealing that the art donated be researched and studied a more appropriate choice might be a college or university museum.  Large museums, though often prestigious, usually keep the majority of their holdings in storage.  Of the thousands of Inuit drawings, prints and sculptures donated to Toronto’s Art Gallery of Ontario relatively few are ever seen by the public. 

            Whatever course is chosen, the collector’s wishes must be put down in writing so that in the event of his or her untimely death they will be known and carried out.  Not only is a will essential but so are the services of an art succession planner, CPA, financial advisor, insurance representative, appraiser and a mentor.

            The first thing a collector must do is to decide which pieces will be offered and to which museums.  One strategy is to will a select group of masterpieces from the collection to one museum while lesser works are given to other museums and cultural institutions during the collector’s lifetime to provide an IRS deduction.  Over time, these tax refunds can be used to build an endowment or curatorial fund to support the masterpiece collection when it is donated upon the death of the collector.  To achieve these goals a collector should enlist the assistance of curators and planned giving directors. 

            The purpose of an endowment or curatorial fund is to offset the expense of storing, insuring, and caring for the works of art that have been donated.  This can be accomplished by an outright gift of cash, payments over a period of time, donations of art to be sold to raise money for the fund or an insurance policy, annuity or trust fund with the museum as beneficiary.

            A donation of art with an endowment or curatorial fund attached provides what Michael Mendelsohn terms “the perfect gift.”

The Walking Heads by Ohotaq Mikkigak, etching & aquatint on Arches white                paper, Printer: Studio PM, 39/50; Colors: blue, orange, red, gray, brown, black;                Inuit, Cape Dorset; Paper size: 31.5”h x 31.5”w; Plate size: 21.5”h x 23.5”w, Cape Dorset               Annual Print Collection #28 (2004)  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

                     It is up to us to determine the fate of our collections and to do what is necessary to see that our wishes are carried out.  We cannot leave critical decisions to others because our collections are more important than any of our other assetssince they constitute a legacy that can educate, enlighten, and inspire future generations.  Ultimately, a collection should have a purpose beyond its own creation.  Recently, a student from Vassar, who is doing his senior thesis on Inuit artist Kenojuak Ashevak, contacted me. Since he would be writing about a print I had donated to the Loeb Art Center as well as two others I still own, he asked if he could visit and see my collection.  I felt extremely honored.  I also invited my dear friend and mentor Elaine Blechman, who has owned an Inuit art gallery for over twenty years and is an expert on the topic.  Having lunch in my home were a Hindu, a Jew, and a Christian who were all discussing the Inuit, a fourth culture.  As I looked around the table I had one thought: Only in America!  I couldn’t ask anything more for my collection than to stimulate students and bring people together.

  See also “Endgame” (June 2008), “The Museum Option Revisited” (February 2009) and “Museum Donations: A How to Guide” (March 2009).         

Museum Donations: A How To Guide (March 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

            The word philanthropist conjures up images of vast wealth and brings to mind names such as Carnegie, Rockefeller, Guggenheim, or Getty.  However, there are many generous donors who, though not famous, are nevertheless philanthropists.  Actually, it is quite easy to become one.  For a collector, it simply entails donating art to a museum or other cultural institution.  Such gifts offer the collector financial benefits, a major one being the tax deduction allowed by the IRS, but beyond these advantages there are a number of other reasons to donate to a museum: the artwork will be given proper care; it can serve to educate the public; and pieces can be given in honor or in memory of family members and friends. 

Pitched-coated pot with notched rim by Alice Cling, Navajo (Diné), 7½” h x 3½” w (c. 2001)

Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

             Donating to a college museum can be even more rewarding.  Last year a friend of mine gifted a large bowl by Maria Martinez to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College.  She was more concerned with supporting the college’s newly established Native American Studies Program than with the tax benefits of her gift.  Shortly after the piece was given I learned that students were already doing research on it.  When I told my friend about this her face lit up.  Every time I saw her she never failed to mention how important it was to educate young people about Native American art and how excited she was that the piece she had donated was already in the hands of students.

Deep Blue Sea by Kenojuak Ashevak, lithograph & stencil, 19/50, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 30”h x 44½”w (2003).  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

            Through donations it is also possible to start a “seed collection,” one that is intended to be grown over time.  For example, over the last few years I have donated a number of Inuit graphics to the Loeb Art Center, which had no examples in its collections and I plan to give more prints and drawings each year.  Patricia Phagan, Curator of Prints and Drawings, wholeheartedly embraced the new acquisitions and eagerly sought to learn as much as she could about the Arctic graphic tradition.  Also, she and the staff of the Loeb saw to it that students had access to the artworks as quickly as possible.  Last month I learned from Professor Karen Lucic (Art Department) that one of her students was doing his senior thesis on Inuit prints, something, she said, that would not have been possible two years ago.  According to Professor Lucic, “. . . donations to museums can stimulate students to stretch themselves into unfamiliar areas and come to appreciate indigenous culture.  Collectors should really consider that perspective.”  A tax deduction pales in comparison with the thrill of knowing your art donation has helped a student gain first hand knowledge.  Seeing a picture of a work of art in a book is a very different experience from actually holding a work of art in your hands and being able to study it closely and carefully.

Beaded Iroquois pouch, 6 ½” L (excluding pink bead fringe drops) x 6” at widest point (circa 1880).  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

            Collectors at any level can donate to a museum.  A collector I know who has a small collection of miniature Inuit carvings is planning to give it to the Nunatta Sunakkutaagit Museum in Iqaluit, Nunavut, Canada.  At the other end of the spectrum, I recently met a collector who owns a large and important collection of pre-Columbian art.  It contains examples that I have never seen in any museum, including those in Mexico, Central and South America.  When he showed me his collection, it was obvious that he had lavished much time, thought, passion and money on creating it.   In the course of the tour, he mentioned that lately he had been thinking about the final disposition of his collection and had no idea what to do with it.  Finances were not a significant concern;  what mattered to him was arriving at the best decision with regard to the collection.  After some further discussion I suggested the museum option and was surprised that he had not thought of it himself.  Knowing that his son was enrolled in a college that had an art museum I suggested that he start there.  It would be a coup for any museum to receive part or, eventually, all of this major collection.  However, if given to a college museum it would benefit generations of teachers and students as well as the general public. 

Hupa basket, artist unknown, 3”h x 5” in diameter (ca. 1940)

Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

However, financial incentives for donating art should not be discounted since they can provide powerful reasons for becoming a philanthropist.  According to Internal Revenue Service guidelines, thirty percent of one’s taxable income can be donated each year to qualifying institutions and any amount above that can be spread out over a period of up to five years, which is known as the five-year carryover provision.  The IRS requires that you have owned the artwork to be donated for at least one year and that it must be given to an approved non-profit institution, which will have an IRS tax ID number.  The amount that can be deducted for each piece is the appraised fair market value (FMV).  For example, if you bought a piece of pottery ten years ago for $500.00 and its appraised value is now $5,000.00 the deduction is the current FMV, not the original price you paid. 

            If the value of a donated piece is under $5,000.00 the IRS does not require an appraisal; works of art valued above that amount must have an appraisal of their fair market value done by a qualified appraiser.  If a number of artworks are donated and their FMV total is $20,000.00 or more a signed appraisal for each piece must be included with your tax return.  However, it is my opinion that no matter what the size of your deduction, even if it is under $5,000.00, it is a good idea to include as much documentation and support as possible so as to avoid any problems.  Furthermore, it is essential to engage the services of a qualified appraiser.

Polychrome olla, artist unknown, Acoma, 7”h x 8”w (c. 1940s)

Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

Preparation:

Do the research.  Find out which museums have Native American holdings.  It is

also possible to find a museum that, though it doesn’t have a collection of American Indian art, is looking to build one.  Because of the emphasis on cultural diversity, many museums are seeking to broaden their collections and, in difficult financial times, rely more and more on donations of art. 

Contact the appropriate curator. Doing so will allow you to ascertain whether

or not your museum of choice is willing to accept donations from your collection.  If interest is expressed, it is important to develop a working relationship with the institution’s planned giving director. 

Create a donations file: For each piece you wish to donate there should be a

file containing a photograph with the title of the work (if applicable), the artist (if applicable), pueblo or tribal affiliation, measurements, the date the piece was produced and any other pertinent information.

For The IRS:

Appraisals:  The appraisal is the sole responsibility of the donor.  As the

recipient, the museum or other cultural institution cannot be a part of the appraisal process.  However, the cost of appraisals may be tax deductible if they are itemized on your tax return.   .

The tax ID number: Every non-profit institution has a tax ID number for the

purpose of accepting donations.  Be sure you have the tax ID of the museum or other institution to which you are donating.

Deed of gift: The cultural institution to which you have given artworks should

give you a document with a description of each piece as proof of donation.

Donations files: Photographs with descriptions (title, artist, pueblo,

measurements, date, etc.).

            The appraisals, tax ID #, deeds of gift, and donations files should form a “packet” that is included with your other tax documents for your accountant.  For more information consult Chapter 11, “Charitable Giving and Fulfilling Your Philanthropic Intentions,” in Life is Short, Art is Long by Michael Mendelsohn and the following IRS documents (downloadable at www.irs.gov): Publication 78, Publication 526, Publication 529 and Publication 561.  It must be noted, however, that for those with large collections museum donations may be one strategy in a larger plan.  It is a good idea to consult with a financial and/or art advisor.  See also “Endgame” and “The Museum Option Revisted.”   

The Museum Option Revisited (February 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

 Collectors spend a lifetime carefully acquiring artworks that they feel are beautiful, profound, or thought-provoking.  A great deal of consideration is given not only to each individual piece but also to how it relates to those already in the collection.  Every collection is idiosyncratic, reflecting a collector’s interests, tastes and personality.  In essence, a collection is the collector.  Serious collectors invest a great amount of time, passion, energy and often, but not always, large sums of money into building a collection.  It is no wonder, then, that they see it as an extension of themselves.  It is their legacy, which they want to live on beyond their own lifetime.  For this reason, most collectors do not want the art they took such care to acquire to be sold off piecemeal.  To accomplish this end they often turn to what Michael Mendelsohn, author of Life is Short, Art is Long, terms “the default option” – donating one’s collection to a museum.  This is an excellent choice but one fraught with peril unless the collector does his or her “homework.”

As collectors we must be as active in the ultimate disposition of our collections as we have been in creating them.  We cannot leave this task to our heirs who may not have the interest, wherewithal, or financial resources to carry out our wishes.  A few years ago I gave this advice to a dear friend who owned thousands of Native American artworks.  She had so many pieces that she didn’t know exactly how many she had or where she had stored scores of them.  One day, for example, she discovered an old Acoma olla valued at over $25,000.00 tucked away under her bed.  It had been there for years because she had completely forgotten where she had put it.  I repeatedly counseled her to create a complete inventory of what she owned since she often joked that if she died her daughter, who had no real interest in Native art, would simply put everything out in front of the house and have the world’s largest lawn sale.  My friend kept promising that we would catalogue her collection, but we never did.  A few months ago she died suddenly.  In addition to dealing with the grief of losing her mother, her daughter has been left with a logistical, financial, legal, and tax nightmare.  In her will my friend had taken great pains to express what she wanted done with her other assets but left her collection unprotected.   To date, the fate of the collection is unknown but my friend’s daughter might simply take the easy way out and do as many heirs faced with a similar situation have done and turn everything over to an auction house.  Not only will the collection be dispersed, something I know her mother did not want to happen, but 70% or more of the value of the collection will be lost.

Acoma, Polychrome water jar, 8 3/8” x 10½” (c. 1920s) 

Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2006

            As collectors we would be thrilled if our collection went to the National Museum of the American Indian, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Heard or the Denver Art Museum but, for most of us, that is an unrealistic expectation.  However, there are a number of other excellent options provided that we are flexible, open to new ideas, and willing to consider the needs of the museum and not just our own wishes. 

Arvialuk (Great Big Whale) by Kananginak Pootoogook, lithograph on BFK Rives

tan paper, 19/50, Inuit, Cape Dorset, 40h x 30”w, Cape Dorset Annual Print Collection # 6 (2003)

Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

              Some museums have a very tight focus; others offer a wider variety of art; but very few have encyclopedic collections like Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts or the Met in New York.  The first step is to identify which museums would have an interest in your collecting area.  It is then important to work with the museum’s planned giving director so as to understand the museum’s needs and how donations can meet them.   As collectors we must be willing to discuss as well as compromise and not insist on complete control of the artworks we donate.  Although our wish may be to protect our collection we cannot be rigid and make impossible demands.  For example, we cannot insist that the piece we donate must always be on exhibit.  Museums need to be able to change.  Refusal to let them do so results in stagnation.  However, change done solely with an eye to increasing revenues can be a misstep, having an effect opposite of the one intended.  Two museums illustrate the contradictory nature of change.

Iroquois Beaded boot whimsy, "From Niagara Falls," with bird and flower design; clear and pink beads on blue cloth with white border, c. 1890-1900.  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2007

            During her lifetime Isabella Stewart Gardner amassed a fabulous and wide-ranging art collection, which she housed in her palatial Boston mansion.  It is obvious that she took great pleasure in living her life surrounded by works of great beauty and historical significance.  Having brought the collection into existence, she was determined to retain tight control over it, even from beyond the grave.  In her will, Isabella decreed that after her death her collection was to remain as it had been during her life – nothing new could be added, nothing could be sold, and every piece had to remain in the exact place it occupied when she was alive.  Isabella Stewart Gardner achieved her goal: complete control over her collection.  However, in exchange for what she gained Isabella may have lost much more because she tied the hands of future generations of her museum’s curators.  Because of her requirements, Mrs. Gardner insured that, upon her death, her collection would no longer be a “living” one, since it could no longer grow and change.

            Although the museum is considered one of Boston’s cultural gems, and is a must-see for any visitor, many people feel that once they have seen the collection there is little reason to return since there is never anything new to see.  One hundred and one years later, the Board of Trustees is still struggling with the rules the museum’s founder put in place.  To address this problem the trustees have commissioned a new addition which will accommodate temporary exhibitions and allow the Gardner Museum to grow beyond the original collection.

Black-on-black pot with avanyu design by Juan Tafoya, San Ildefonso,

5½”h x 6”w (1994).  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

            Recently, I visited a very different museum in Colorado which illustrates the opposite end of the change spectrum.  Noted since its founding for its large Native American collection, especially objects from the Southwest, in the last decade the museum has been taken in a different and controversial direction.  Except for an excellent but temporary exhibit of Native American prints, the only Indian art to be seen was one piece of pottery, one basket, and a few large sculptures scattered here and there.  When I asked what had happened to the original Native American collection I was told that it was in storage so that other types of art could be put on view.  What was now on exhibit was overwhelmingly mainstream contemporary art. 

            Investigating further, I spoke to the owner of a local gallery that specializes in Native American art who freely expressed his disgust and anger about the museum’s current direction, which he felt was a serious mistake.  According to him, a new museum director, who did not appreciate Native American art, was brought in from New York and after completely altering the museum’s focus (and name), had moved on.  Many of the local people are still infuriated by this change and a number of the museum’s volunteers have left.  Meanwhile, the focus has not been reversed and the Native materials remain off view. 

            No collector can see into the future and determine what course a museum might take.  All we can do is to make sure that the artworks in our collection have a secure placement in a cultural institution of our choosing and work with its planned giving director.  Beyond that, all we can do is hope for the best. 

Black-on-white pot with two Mimbres style bears by Emma Lewis, Acoma,

3 1/8”h x 4 ¼”w (c. 1980).  Donated to the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center at Vassar College from the E. J. Guarino Collection, 2008

            The size of our collection may also affect our choices, however.  In the case of large collections it may not be possible for a museum to accept every piece, especially since storag

e is often an issue.  Although collectors may not realize it, large collections are actually made up of smaller ones.  My own, for example, can be broken down into a variety of collecting areas such as pottery, baskets, textiles, masks, beadwork, sculpture, works on paper, etc. and these can be further subdivided.  The mindset of a collection of collections can free one to “spread the wealth around.” The pottery collection could be donated to one museum, the baskets to another, and so forth. There are many smaller, regional museums and other cultural institutions with limited budgets that would be thrilled to accept such donations.  For example, an acquaintance of mine has a collection of miniature Inuit carvings, which she knows holds no interest for her children, so she decided to donate it to a museum.  She had hoped to donate it to one nearby so she could visit her collection whenever she wished but after doing some research she decided to give it to the Nunatta Sunakkutaagit Museum in Iqaluit, Nunavut, Canada at a date to be determined.  The museum, which was looking to increase its holdings, gladly accepted her offer. 

             College and university museums are another good option.  No museum can or will guarantee that donated pieces will always be on display but at a teaching institution the collector can take comfort in knowing that the art he or she donates will be discussed, studied, and researched by future generations of professors and students.  This is especially important with regard to Native American art which, if it is included at all, is often glossed over in art courses and then usually presented from an ethnographic rather than an artistic perspective.  Fortunately, this is changing and as collectors we can assist in the process through our donations of Native art.            

Casino Conundrum (January 2009)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Casinos have sprung up on Indian lands all across the United States.  Foxwoods, the largest casino complex in the world, is owned by the Mashantucket Pequot Tribe of Connecticut.  With 7,400 slot machines and over 380 gaming tables it draws 14 million people each year.  The second largest casino in the world Mohegan Sun, which is owned by the Mohegan Tribe, is few miles away.

Throughout the country gaming establishments have become big business with Native run and commercial casinos competing for income.  A recent article in the New York Daily News noted that the revenues for New York State’s eight Indian casinos increased from 2006 to 2007 while during the same period revenues at New Jersey’s Atlantic City casinos decreased.  One of the reasons cited for the Atlantic City casino shortfall was the strong competition from Native run casinos in nearby New York, Pennsylvania and Connecticut.     

Two hundred and twenty-five tribes in thirty-two states have casinos but Indian run gaming establishments are more concentrated in the Southwest.  The Ute control a number of casinos in Colorado, for example, and in New Mexico many of the pueblos such as Acoma, Laguna, Sandia, and even small San Juan, have one.  In Arizona there are over twenty Indian run Casinos.  It will be interesting to see what effect this will have on Native American arts and crafts.  A few years ago a dealer in Estes Park, Colorado, told me that such work had all but dried up in San Juan Pueblo since the casino was built.  I doubt casinos will have much of an effect on well established artists, but they may cause problems for little known and emerging artists who are not part of an already famous family.

  Of course, an exceptional artist who hails from a line of famous potters or weavers can command high prices for his or her work.  For the many that don’t fall into this category it is probably easier and certainly more profitable to get casino work which offers a steady income as well as medical and other benefits.  At a recent job fair for work at a new Indian run casino nearly 2,000 people showed up.

The lure of a steady income should not be underestimated.  For example, a number of emerging and even well known potters from Mata Ortiz, the famous pottery village in Mexico, have chosen to work as domestics or ranch hands in Mexico and in the U.S.  Some of these artists now only make pots sporadically while others have given up pottery-making completely.   

However, one can only wonder what will happen when the casinos close as some have predicted.  One Native American man told me that the life span for a number of the casinos is expected to be about ten years.

In spite of this forecast, more and more tribes are getting into the casino business in one way or another.  The Navajo Nation, for example, leases slot machines to Indian run casinos within Arizona and opened its own gaming establishment Fire Rock Casino, east of Gallup, New Mexico in

October 2008, with plans to open five additional casinos in northern Arizona and New Mexico.

Casinos are not without controversy among Native people, however.  The Navajo have a number of legends that are cautionary tales about the dangers of gaming and fear that casinos will bring with them gambling addictions and pressure to legalize alcohol on Native lands.  The tribe has debated the issue for twenty years.

Across the country many Native Americans wonder if the benefits derived from casinos will outweigh the drawbacks.  However, profits from such enterprises have funded medical facilities, cultural centers, museums, educational programs and scholarships.

Casino Arizona at Salt River

One of the most innovative uses of casino space can be found at Casino Arizona at Salt River on the Pima-Maricopa Reservation.   In a meeting of art and commerce, spectacular works of Native art are displayed throughout the casino.  In addition, there is a gallery space that presents exhibits of works by master as well as emerging artists.

Located only twelve miles from Santa Fe, the new Buffalo Thunder Resort and Casino, a project of Pojoaque Pueblo, also incorporates an art gallery that showcases some 200 works of Native American art that represent tribes throughout New Mexico.  In addition, many of the artworks were designed to be an architectural part of the complex, making the entire Buffalo Thunder Resort and Casino a museum.    

However, casinos have also brought unwanted scrutiny and unwarranted intrusions by various agencies of the U.S. Government that are perceived as an attack on Indian sovereignty.  A change that does not sit well with many Native Americans is the attempt by the Federal and State governments to get a cut of the revenues produced by Indian run casinos.  Through various forms of political pressure and legal manipulations, tribes are being forced to enter into “compacts” by which they agree to share a percentage of casino profits with Federal and State governments.

There are exceptions to casino-mania, however.  I would stake my life that no casino will ever stand on or near Hopi lands.  In the end, it will be up to each individual Native group to decide if the advantages of running a casino exceed the disadvantages.

In the meantime, as wonderful as it may be to have pieces in our collection by masters such as Nampeyo, Maria and Julian Martinez, and Lucy Lewis, it is perhaps more important to support the work of living artists, especially emerging ones.  In addition, young people need to be given encouragement and instruction through art education classes and events such as the Heard Museum Guild American Indian Student Art Show & Sale.  At this event collectors can view and purchase the work of over 1,000 Native students from across the U.S. and Canada.  Aspiring Native artists need to be exposed to as much art as possible in every media from all periods and cultures, not only their own.  Art classes, galleries and especially museums offer opportunities to young artists to discover what they like, what they don’t like and what inspires them.    

Artists do not live in some ethereal realm.  They, like us, must pay bills and feed and educate families.  It is unfortunate that some must abandon their art to make a good living. However, with the right focus Native run casinos can be turned into a win-win situation.        

Miniatures Make a Comeback (November 2008)

BY E. J. GUARINO 

Native people have always made miniatures.  Prehistoric Ancestral Puebloans fashioned small pieces of pottery and tiny figures.  More recently, historic peoples such as the Akimel O’otham and the Tohono O’odham have created miniature baskets, Plains tribes have made miniature parfleches, and the Navajo weave miniature rugs.  The reasons for producing these diminutive wonders are varied.  Some were teaching tools used to instruct children; others were made by children themselves as a learning exercise; still others may have been playthings; and in a number of cases, works were made on a miniature scale by an artist to highlight his or her skill and dexterity.

Miniature Plains Indian parfleche, artist unknown, 6” x 4” (ca. 1890) Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Miniatures in a variety of media were popular from the 1920s through the early 1970s.  Ceramic miniatures were particularly sought after by collectors in the 1960s.  Small works were favored by many tourists and collectors for a number of reasons:  they could be transported easily; they were less expensive than full-scale pieces; a large number of pieces could be displayed in a small amount of space, something that was especially appealing to city dwellers; and such works were charming.  All of the forms (ollas, vases, bowls, plates, canteens, figures) and the styles (painted, plainware, carved, inlaid, modeled) of large scale works were reproduced in miniature.

Miniature black-on-white dish with Mimbres-style eagle Emma Lewis, Acoma, 2” indiameter (ca. 1980s) Collection of E. J. Guarino	Miniature black-on-white “eye dazzler”  Dorothy Torivio, Acoma, 2½”h x 2¾”w (ca. 2000) Collection of E. J. Guarino

                          By the late 1970s, however, miniature ceramics were falling out of fashion for reasons that can only be guessed at.  More and more people were now traveling by jet and it was relatively easy to carry a box onto the plane or check it as baggage at no extra cost.  It was also possible to ship pieces home fairly inexpensively via delivery companies.  As a society, America was entering an era in which bigger meant better, even in art, and small connoted unimportant.  Also, as people left the cities for the suburbs they acquired more space, a trend that culminated in large homes referred to as “MacMansions.”  Whatever the causes, tourists and collectors lost interest in miniatures, particularly ceramics, and it became less profitable for artists to produce them.  Since miniatures, like their larger counterparts, were made using time consuming traditional techniques it made more financial sense to produce full-scale works, which the public wanted and which commanded higher prices. 

            More recently, for reasons still unclear, miniature pottery is making a comeback.  Perhaps it is due to a combination of factors: since 9/11 it is more difficult (and now more costly) for travelers to transport carry on pieces and baggage; large works, especially by well-known artists, are expensive; many baby boomers have downsized to smaller living spaces; and people have less money to spend, especially on art.  In addition, a number of important contemporary Native ceramic artists such as Al Qoyawayma, Nora Naranjo-Morse, Virgil Ortiz, Preston Duwyenie, Polly Rose Folwell, Pam Lujan-Hauer, Jennifer Moquino, and others have created miniatures, allowing collectors to own one of their pieces without having to spend thousands of dollars.

Boreal Toad Plate by Jennifer Moquino, Santa Clara, 2” diameter (2008) Collection of E. J. Guarino

            From the 1920s through the 1970s miniature baskets, especially those made by the Akimel O’otham and Tohono O’odam, were also popular with tourists and collectors traveling in the Southwest.  Almost every type of full-sized basket was reproduced on a minute scale.  Such works were, and still are, appreciated for the fineness of the weaving done on what often seemed an impossibly small scale, with some works no larger than a fingernail.  In the 1940s both the Akimel O’otham and the Tohono O’odam began producing miniature baskets woven out of horsehair.  It remains unclear which group started this innovation but it is believed that the Akimel O’otham probably first made them with the Tohono O’odam following suit and refining the form.  For the next forty year these miniatures were usually black or a combination of black and white, but sometime in the 1970s two new developments were introduced: the weaving became finer and figures, such as the iconic Man-in-the-Maze design and the Friendship Ring (a circle of figures holding hands), were added.  Eventually the miniature horsehair baskets of the Akimel O’otham and the Tohono O’odam reached a level of artistry that remains unrivaled.  

Left: Horsehair basket by Marvel Escarsega, Akimel O’otham, 3½” diameter (ca. 2000); Right: Wheat stitched basket by Flora Thomas, Tohono O’odam, 2¼” diameter (2000) Collection of E. J. Guarino

            Akimel O’otham and Tohono O’odam miniature baskets are still produced and are highly sought after by museums and collectors.  Prices for such works have continued to escalate, with some of the baskets selling for $1,000.00 or more.

            Miniature Navajo textiles have also remained popular.  Since full-scale rugs and blankets cost thousands of dollars and require a large amount of space, miniature versions easily allow tourists to take home an example of their favorite design and provide serious collectors a means of acquiring the entire range of Navajo styles. 

Miniature pictorial rug by Eloise Bia, Navajo, 4½”h x 4”w, excluding fringes (2000) Collection of E. J. Guarino

Perhaps the most popular format is the pictorial rug, which is not only charming but offers a window into modern Navajo life since it often includes details of contemporary life such as TVs, cars, and airplanes along with more traditional images of sheep herding and hogans.  Collectors particularly covet pictorials that reveal the Navajo sense of humor, which is usually directed at men.  Such works often show females doing all manner of work while a Navajo male lounges nearby, his hands behind his head and one bent leg crossed over the other.  A Navajo woman I met thought such a scene quite amusing and insisted that it was typical.  I doubt Navajo men would agree, but the humor is so good-natured that it’s not likely that it provokes any hostility.

Eastern Native artists are also aware of the new popularity of miniatures.  Lorna Hill Thomas, one of the most famous contemporary Iroquois beadwork artists, has created miniatures in the spirit of classic works that were sold to tourists during the late 1800s and early 1900s in places such as Niagara Falls.  Her updated minis are charming and inexpensive.                              

Miniature eyeglass case by Lorna Hill Thomas, Cayuga Iroquois, 2¼”h x 3”w (2001) Collection of E. J. Guarino	Miniature pinch purse by Lorna Hill Thomas, Cayuga  Iroquois, 3”h x 1½”w (2001) Collection of  E. J. Guarino

Left: Plainware double lobe jar by Loren Ami, Hopi-Tewa, 7”h x 7”w (2008); Right: Miniature micaceous double lobe jar by Pam Lujan-Hauer, Taos, 1½”h x ¾”w (1998) Col