During Jen Hall’s Visual & Critical Studies class, I became interested in the concept of transcultural aesthetics – the melding of Indigenous and Euro-Western aesthetics in my work. Below is an excerpt of my statement, developed during the latter part of the semester:
“My art is trans-cultural; its themes and processes are situated between my Indigenous and non-Indigenous heritages. The materials I use, the concepts I explore, the themes that drive my art practice are situated in both worlds; I look for ways to meld the two together into a whole structure. Through my dual growing up experience, I learned both Indigenous and non-Indigenous ways of seeing and making, and these elements are fused together in everything I make.”
Print Making
I was able to take the Graduate Print Portfolio class, this past semester, as my elective. I had very little instruction on print prior to this class and have been wanting to explore print as a medium for several years. The class did not disappoint.
Along with the exploration of multiples, I also spent a lot of time exploring multi-layering, transparency, embossment and debossment, and fabric printing. The fabric was then cut, pieced, and quilted to further explore embossing through quilting. I find quilting interesting in that it creates a whole from many smaller pieces. Quilts are also a type of blanket, usually created by women in a domestic situation and I’m interested in pursuing this direction.
23 Pairs of Shovel Shaped Incisors
I’ve been thinking specifically about the visibility and invisibility of the Indigenous body, both in my own identity as a white passing person, and on a macro level within the population of the United Stated. One of my Indigenous features is my shovel shaped incisors. The shoveling is not visible from the front so it really hits on the visible/invisible concept.
For this work in progress, I made a mold of my front teeth, got my dentist to send me x-rays of my front teeth roots, and then carved up a set from which I created a mold and cast 23 pairs, calling back to the 23 pairs of chromosomes that humans have. I’m currently thinking through how I want to move forward with this so that I can hit both the idea of chromesomes and the idea of the elk tooth dress, which is a Northern Plains dress worn by women on which are sewn the front teeth of elk; the teeth indicate the prowess of the hunter as well as the “wealth” of the family. The dresses are worn only by women so there is also an identity aspect.
Resin, life size.
Resin and acrylic paint, life size.
Resin and acrylic paint, life size.
Painting Practice
Not much has happened in my painting practice other than experimenting with analogous color palettes based on some of the printing I did this semester. Landscape has always been an important part of my painting practice so I concentrated on that in these works.
Acrylic on canvas, 11×14 inches.
Acrylic on canvas, 11×14 inches.
Acrylic on canvas, 11×14 inches.
Acrylic on canvas, 11×14 inches.
Bead Work
I am continuing with this series. Previous pieces can be seen here.
This particular series shows a specific melding of Indigenous (beads, pattern, process) and non-Indigenous (contour “drawing”, realism).
Canvas, Pelon, glass beads, and thread. 9.5×8.5 inches
This summer was full of experimentation and considering materiality and meaning in my work.
The main goal was to finish workshopping installation ideas for what I’ve been calling my Boundaries project. Each of these pieces was created by ripping up a facsimile map of Montana, circa 1881, and collaging it onto canvas in the shapes of each reservation in the state. Each piece was then lashed to a whitewashed wood frame with strips created from the treaties that established that reservation, mimicking hide stretching frames. When I first envisioned this project, the idea was to install it in a circle on ground/floor but when I did that, I wasn’t satisfied with the way that the viewer looked down on the work. So this summer has been spent workshopping a more elevated install idea and then making that happen. .
Studio IV: The Boundaries Project
Studio IV: Responding to the Marceau-Ponty Reading
When reading this assignment, I was struck by the idea of looking at the world in ways other than with our eyes. In many ways, as artists, we “see” the world through our hands or bodies.
Print Workshop A
The print workshop, this summer, was very productive for me. In thinking about the invisibility of Indigenous bodies and how certain printing methods leave traces of shapes in the form of embossing, I began to think about what this said for the shape that made the embossment and what embossment as an artifact might mean in my practice. I was also interested in exploring symbolism and how multiples of a symbol could work in harmony with itself or in tandem with another symbol to impart a message.
VIBGYOR: Color for Studio
In this workshop, I was finally able to experiment with making pigment from moss harvested in Montana in 2019. This is a type of moss that was used by the Bitterroot Salish and Qlispe’ to make pigment and to stain articles of clothing, skin, hides, and other items.
Felting/Weaving In the Expanded Field
Weaving was another technique that I’ve wanted to integrate into my practice for awhile. In this workshop, I used more facsimile maps of Montana, circa 1881, to weave various items. I also used a Salish weaving technique with one of the experiments.
Other Media
I spent a lot of time working on workshop projects but did get a bit of time to paint. I also worked on other items as time permitted.
Painting
I’ve been experiencing some frustration with my painting practice lately. Specifically, I’ve been looking for ways to create work that doesn’t fall into cliche’ or stereotype when using distinctly Indigenous symbology. After looking through Fritz Scholder’s work (again) and reading what he had to say on the subject, I started to consider how the use of symbology and multiples worked in my print practice and pulled some of that into my painting work. I also started to consider what I think paint (as a medium) does best, what parts of my practice are based in my indigenous identity, what parts are based in my non-indigenous identity, and what it is that I want to say with paint.
The Long Walk
I’m still continuing to work on this sculpture as time permits. For more on this work, please click here.
My work explores my identity and experiences as a mixed blood person, fusing Indigenous and non-Indigenous ways of seeing and making in order to navigate the space between.
Born and raised in Northwestern Montana, I grew up on the Flathead Indian Reservation. My father was Qlispe’, Seli’š, and Ksanka (Upper Kalispel, Bitterroot Salish, and Kootenai) and my mother was the daughter of non-Indigenous settlers who moved to the reservation in the 1920s when it was opened for white settlement. I grew up with access to these two different worlds and to their histories and traditions.
My work creates “stories” that investigate concepts of erasure, kinship, belonging, transition, transformation, reclamation, and ambiguity. My work also celebrates the resilience and survivance of Indigenous people, giving voice to that part of me that has survived and thrived. I consider myself and my work as a bridge between Indigenous and non-Indigenous cultures, between Western European art and Indigenous art, and between the past and the future.
Current Projects and Works-In-Progress
Boundaries Project: The Impact of Loss of Place Place and identity are inextricably linked for Indigenous people. These “hides”, made from ripped up and reassembled facsimile maps of Montana circa 1881, are stretched and lashed to whitewashed wood frames with the official treaty language used by the US government to create each reservation located in the State. Indian peoples were ripped from their larger territory and confined to the much smaller reservation which was not enough territory to sustain their way of life. They often did not understand the full language of the treaties they signed and were expected to change from hunters to farmers almost over night, This work directly refers to this process by referencing the skin of an animal which has been removed and then stretched out to tan so that it can be changed and used for a different purpose.
The blood red painted faces of Indian people, splattered on the “hides” takes advantage of the human brain’s propensity to see faces – which, once seen, can’t be unseen – pushing against the purposeful amnesia regarding the US history of its treatment of Indian peoples and the idea that Indian people are invisible or “extinct”. The “hides” and “blood” are stand-ins for Indian bodies, referring to US government policy on blood quantum – dictating who is and isn’t “Indian” in order to allot reservation resources.
Plans for the Future I’m currently workshopping installation ideas. I wasn’t happy that the viewer is looking down on these so I am currently thinking through a different install approach. The drawing represents the current idea that I’m working at the moment.
These pieces have always been representative of the Indigenous body so I decided to really lean into that (the drawing). One of the reasons these have faces is to humanize the people to whom the trauma of removal happened. Elevating the pieces to eye level in a way that suggests a human body supports that representation. This taller install would also take up more space and would confront the viewer in ways the floor install just doesn’t.
Beaded Portraits: Counting Coup on Curtis As a medium, beads are a symbol of resilience, survivance, and thriving for Indigenous people. Post First Contact, Indigenous peoples readily adopted European glass beads as an art form and took the medium to artistic heights not attained in Europe at the time – taking control of a European medium and making it their own.
The legacy of Edward S. Curtis is a problematic one. So many of his photos don’t note the name of the subject. The photo title is the name he gave them, stripping a part of their Indigenous identity and renaming them in a non-Indigenous way. The Curtis photo “Flathead female type”, which is the basis for one of these pieces, was especially painful to me. This was a Bitterroot Salish woman photographed by Curtis who used only her image for his own purposes. She might be an ancestor, she might not. I don’t know because her name was lost.
In these beaded portraits, the whole impetus is about “renaming” the subject from Edward S. Curtis’ dehumanizing titles to something more Indigenous. This is done most directly with the title of the work – Sunwoman. But the beads, their dimensionality, and their colors also function as a kind of language which renames and reclaims these people. Beads and color, especially in the way I have used them, mark this subject as “Indigenous”. The material “names” the subject and “identifies” the subject. This woman has become more than just a nameless person in a flat, black and white photo taken by a non-Indigenous person for Colonial/Capitalist reasons bankrolled by a 19th century robber baron (JP Morgan).
Plans for the Future I have just recently finished the second portrait and have prepared the ground for the third one, based on a photo entitled “Nespelem Maiden” which has all sorts of problematic connotations that I’d like to address (the fetishizing use of the word “maiden”). These portraits, at this size, take about 55 to 60 hours – it’s a slow medium to work in. So I am not anticipating getting this latest portrait finished until well into Fall semester.
Curtis’ original photo – “Flathead Female Type”
Painting: Indigenous/Non-Indigenous Fusion. Continuing a trajectory that I started last Fall semester, I am exploring ways of using pigments, color, subject matter, method (reductive and additive), and symbiology in my painting practice. I recently attended the Native Pigments Revealed symposium a few weeks ago and have come away with a renewed interest in exploring the pre-Contact Indigenous painting traditions of Qlispe’ and Seli’š people. The idea that earth pigments – rock, plants, etc. – tie a work to a certain place because the materials have been gathered from that place is really appealing to me. Much of my painted work contains visual references, overt and covert, to landscape. I’d like to push this further.
Plans for the Future The images below represent what I’m experimenting with right now. The left most painting was done right after the Native Pigments Revealed symposium and represents the direction I’d like to go with foraged pigments. Finding pigments in the landscape, making them into paint. And then painting with them. This field of enquiry will very likely extend through Summer, through Fall semester, and into Spring semester.
Print I started thinking about the use of print in my practice when I started working with the facsimile 1881 Montana map and the treaties that established the reservations in the state. These were printed works on paper – in some cases, mass produced in order to disseminate information. I’m interested in this communication method when thinking about the purposeful amnesia of the general American public with regards to Indigenous people and history. I’ve also branched out to thinking about print and symbols, especially the use of multiples, to create meaning and to tie that into my current work. I’m still investigating this tangent by creating my own blocks for printing/stamping and thinking about the symbols I want to weave into images. I really like the idea of using one symbol to build a portrait or picture of a subject in a Pointillist manner.
Plans for the Future Along with continuing these lines of thought, I am taking a Print workshop this Summer and the Graduate Print Portfolio elective this Fall. It will be interesting to see what comes out of this focused time.
Initial experiment to prove concept
Built up proof-of-concept using buffalo stamp and alizarin crimson on paper, 17×14 inches
I wasn’t crazy about how the High Flow behaved when inking this tiny block/stamp.
Drawing
A regular part of my practice includes almost daily concept sketching but I have recently gone back to creating drawings as “finished” work. Like my painting practice, this is another area where I am exploring style and symbolism to create specific messages.
graphite on paper, 9 inches diameter.
Sketch: “If you don’t hear from me, call the police”, graphite on paper, 4.5 inches diameter.
Sketch, graphite on paper, 4.5 inches diameter
Sketch, graphite on paper, 4.5 inches diameter.
Sketch: “Community”, graphite on paper, 4.5 inches diameter.
Experimentation: Quilling with Paper
There is a European tradition of “quilling” with curls of paper which looks nothing like Indigenous quilling with porcupine quills. I’ve been experimenting with quilling paper in the Indigenous quilling tradition. These are tests, using treaty text, to see how much of the wording can be read and how I can manipulate the text. This is an offshoot of the Boundaries project lashings which are vinyl encased strips of treaty text. It has a very quill-like materiality to it so I wondered how it would behave when quilled onto a surface.
Proof of concept; working in the round.
Experimenting with formatting to get as much text on the front of the work as possible.
And, As Always, Long Walk… I still continue to work on this very large bead sculpture. Currently, all foam cores have been cast and I am in the process of skinning each bead with hydrocal, sanding them, and then painting them. It takes time for the clear, top coat to cure so I’ll be working on these, this summer, in between all the other projects and school work.
The 130th anniversary of the removal of the Bitterroot Salish from the Bitteroot valley is October 15th, 2021. I am hoping to finish this by then but may not make that deadline.
For a more in-depth discussion of this project, please go here.
I continue to work on this very large sculpture, between Summer and Fall new projects. Despite having conceptualized it about a year ago and starting it months before I began my MFA program, I still refer to it and think about it a great deal. Especially when considering and further researching contemporary artists (who happen to be Native American) and Gerald Vizenor’s theory of Survivance.
The point to this sculpture was always very straightforward. I took a craft – beadwork – which is stereotypically Native American and has never really been considered ‘art’ in the same sense as painting, drawing, or sculpture but as more of an ‘artifact’ in the anthropological sense. Which excludes it from the art world. By enlarging beadwork, I elevated it to the status of ‘sculpture’. Which, by definition, now makes it ‘art’. The largeness of the work is also straightforward; by taking up space, the piece will claim that space and force the viewer to navigate around it. It’s a direct call back to reservations, settler land claims, and the idea that America was ‘vacant’ before the Europeans colonized it. This is a direct reference to Gerald Viznor’s theory on Survivance – not only is it demanding to be seen, it’s also commanding the space around it.
The basics of the piece are also specifically tied to my own heritage. Each row contains thirteen beads; the Bitterroot Salish calendar was lunar, with thirteen months rather than twelve. Each row represents a year. Eventually, there will be 130 rows representing the amount of time since the Bitterroot Salish were forcibly removed from their ancestral territory and placed on a reservation approximately one hundred miles to the north. The colors of the beads are based on reading oral histories about pigments that were available and their symbolism. The dashes, created by three yellow beads, are representative of foot steps – based on the ledger art of a Bitterroot Salish man named Five Crows. Hence the title, “The Long Walk”, the journey taken out of the Bitterroot valley which continues, through time.
This is, by far, the most Native American piece I’ve done so far. I am really reluctant to have my work stereotyped in any way so I usually avoid overtly Native symbology. But the point of this piece is overtly native so I’ve pushed that.
Making these giant beads is a three-step process. I began by carving three prototypes out of foam. I then made a silicone mold of them. The mold is used to cast new beads in pourable casting foam which is lightweight. To make it durable and to smooth the surface, I coat each bead in a reinforced hydrocal shell. The beads are sanded, painted, and top coated in a durable acrylic clear coat. Once that cures, they are strung using nylon parachute cord. I also had to make my own oversized needle to return through the last row added to start each new row.
The photos show just the first section of the entire sculpture. By the time I am finished, the sculpture will be approximately thirty-seven feet long and is 28″ wide and 3″ thick. The plan has always been to hang it from the ceiling of the venue and have it drape down onto and across a significant portion of the floor. I wanted it to refer back to European cathedrals and the sacred space from the rosette through the alter and down the aisle. I have a second large sculpture planned that will be a rondel eight feet in diameter.
