When we made the decision to close the Gallery after 42 years of operation, I felt a bit like I was abandoning my family’s hard work and legacy. Yes, there were tears, but we still think it is the right decision to make. The last two years have been record-setting for us, and it is always nice to go out on the top of your game. After the tears subsided, sunshine started to emerge from the clouds and I feel like I can step away with a happy heart and peaceful mind.

Having said that, we will remain involved, as this has become a part of my life. In particular, our support for MIAC, SAR, IAIA, and Adopt A Native Elder will remain as strong as we can manage. We are also hopeful of retaining the long relationships we have with Native American artists and their families, gallery owners, and Native American supporters like you.

Blessings to all of you!

Katie, Michael, and Tanner the fluffy puppy

That brings me to the subject of this month’s newsletter. As of November 1, 2022, The Dancing Rabbit Gallery will be closing its doors after 42 years of operation as an art gallery specializing in Native American art of the American Southwest.

To celebrate our transition, we are offering all of our website visitors a special opportunity during the month of October. Everything on the website is offered at 20% off retail, and still includes the free shipping and free insurance in the United States and Canada. To obtain the savings, just enter the coupon code exodus in the shopping cart when you check out, and it will recalculate the price. The coupon code will expire at midnight on October 31, so do not wait if there is something you have been waiting to acquire. After October 31, the inventory will no longer be available for purchase. Because of the nature of this transition, we are unable to utilize layaway and unable to accept any returns. As always, shipping and insurance are completely free in the United States and Canada.

This was a difficult and very emotional decision for us. As Michael and I are both getting older and health issues are becoming more prominent, we felt that we were no longer able to sufficiently deliver a superior quality experience for our clients. We made the painful decision to cease operations.

We will always be very grateful for the amazing relationships we built over the decades with Native American artists and their families. These relationships will stay with us forever. We mourned the passing of decades-long friends, and welcomed new babies into the next generation of artists. We learned an immense amount about Native American cultures.

We also wanted to extend our heartfelt thanks to our clients, without whose support and encouragement this Gallery would have not been a success. Our overarching goal has always been to provide everyone a meaningful learning experience while looking at our website. Knowing more about the backstories of the artists, their tribes, and their cultures brings the art that they produce alive to a much greater degree. Art tells a story, and being able to interpret that story makes the art much more than pretty shapes and colors.

Part of our mission at The Dancing Rabbit Gallery was outreach, and we worked with a number of wonderful organizations over the years. The most touching to me is the work done by Adopt a Native Elder (anelder.org) as we sponsored elderly Navajo living on the reservation, often without running water, electricity, or adequate food. Being able to provide those life essentials is a very humbling feeling. We also worked with the Museum of New Mexico Foundation (MIAC) to help sponsor their activities, and the School for Advance Research (SAR), and the Institute for American Indian Arts (IAIA), and others. Generally, any profits we made from our Gallery went into those organizations.

And finally, we would like to extend our very grateful thanks to our suppliers and service partners over the years. In particular, Native American Arts magazine has continually given us both professional and high-quality advertisements and we feel as though we developed excellent personal relationships with many of Michael Clawson’s team.

We discussed at length the option of selling the business outright to another owner, and decided that even though it was a financially better option for us to do that, we did not want the name and legacy of The Dancing Rabbit Gallery to move away from our control.

We both feel truly blessed to have traveled this path over the years, meeting wonderful people and getting to become part of their lives and families. We have seen the grandeur of the American Southwest, both created by Mother Nature and subsequently modified by humans. The history and culture are both deep and extensive in this part of North America, often overlooked by those comfortable in large cities and crowded neighborhoods. The American Southwest, and the peoples who came to this area tens of thousands of years ago, developed a harmonious lifestyle together. We have learned many lessons from our time on Mother Earth, and we hope to continue to learn and grow for as long as we continue to make trips around the Sun. Happy Trails, everyone!

This summer, Santa Fe saw the return of many of the activities and events that have been held for many years. The main thrust of many of these events was fundraising for the Native American education scholarship funds, aiding eligible Native American artists to further their educations and continue the established traditions of their art.

The first gala event was held by the School for Advanced Research (SAR), which has the tremendous vaults of historic and contemporary Native American art on its campus. SAR offers internship programs where the artists live on the campus and explore their cultural heritage while continuing to improve and expand their artistic talents. A former agency of the State of New Mexico and its historical museum arm, SAR and the Museum of New Mexico Foundation share common heritage and common goals in preserving, educating, and expanding awareness of Native American culture and heritage. A non-profit organization, SAR relies heavily on contributions from its members.

SAR organized the first gala dinner and auction of the summer, held on the SAR campus on a lovely summer evening. At least, it was lovely until the heavy rains poured down. Michael Brown, the President of SAR, started with a wonderful welcome and discussion of how the efforts of SAR members contributed to the scholarship capabilities of SAR.

Not to be discouraged, the attendees had a wonderful dinner, followed by a silent auction of donated Native American art as well as an energetic live auction. The table at which Michael and I sat was blessed with vivacious and friendly people, and I believe that each couple at that table ended up winning an item in the live auction. We were fortunate to win a beautiful Robert Patricio pot donated by who other than one of our amazing Gallery friends, Charles King. The staff at SAR worked around the rain, and pulled off a fantastic evening for close to 200 attendees.

The following weekend, the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture (MIAC), the State run museum that has primary responsibility for Native American culture and heritage, had their wonderful gala and auction up on Museum Hill outside the MIAC facility. It was once again a lovely evening, and yes, once again the heavy rains poured down. The President and CEO of the Museum Foundation, Jamie Clements, gave an inspiring talk about the support provided by the MNMF organization to support MIAC.

Sadly, there were several groups from IAIA, the Lightning Boy Foundation, and other that were scheduled to perform before and during the dinner, but were unable to do so. The auction, however, proceeded without delay, and again the 200 or so attendees were able to contribute to the funds of this worthy organization.

We were particularly pleased to share a table with Diane Bird, who we had met at prior MIAC events, and who shared her voluminous knowledge of Native American artifacts with us. One of the MIAC archivists, Diane was instrumental in pulling together the Grounded in Clay exhibition.

It was interesting to see many of the SAR staffers at the MIAC gala, as many of the MIAC staffers had also attended the SAR gala in the prior week. These two organizations are working closely together to launch the Grounded in Clay exhibition, using many of the treasured artifacts found in both the SAR vaults and the MIAC storage areas. The exhibition will be a traveling one, currently open in Santa Fe, and then moving on to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City in 2023, the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston in 2024, and then to the Saint Louis Art Museum in 2025. This exhibition was put together by both organizations, using the insight and knowledge of over 60 members of 21 tribal communities in the American Southwest.

And in mid-August, the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) held what was possibly the most elegant summer gala at the La Fonda hotel. Well over 200 attendees enjoyed the indoor entertainment (yes, it rained again, as this is the summer monsoon season in Santa Fe), the sumptuous dinner, and the wonderful silent and live auctions. The President of IAIA, Dr. Robert Martin, started with an inspiring talk about the strides Native American students are making as a result of this resident university. As an enrolled member of the Cherokee Tribe of Oklahoma, Dr. Martin is living proof of the benefit that a solid college education can provide people.

We were able to see a stunningly elegant hoop dance performance by Shandien LaRance, a world champion hoop dancer, hear a reading by US Poet Laureate Joy Harjo (the first Native American named Poet Laureate by the US Library of Congress), and experience an electric moment when a donor stood up and announced an additional $250,000 donation to their existing scholarship foundation to IAIA. These events, needless to say, are not for the faint of heart. Attendees dug deep, and the result was a significant scholarship boost to the students working toward college degrees in the arts from IAIA.

This is the 60^th year of IAIA, and also the 50^th year of the IAIA Museum, both tremendous milestones to attain. Anyone who is in Santa Fe should definitely consider dropping by IAIA on the south side of the city for an inspirational visit.

There were other events of note in Santa Fe during the summer. The SWAIA Indian Market held its 100^th market (and yes, on Saturday it poured all day but somehow didn’t seem to dampen many spirits). Another juried show, Pathways, was held up at the Buffalo Thunder Resort for the second year in a row, and the Poeh Cultural Center and the Pojoaque pueblo did a wonderful job of managing this new event. It appears that they are trying to return to the Eight Northern Pueblos market that was historically held around this same time. As always, there were quite a few hangers-on sales events around Santa Fe, as unjuried events try to cash in on the presence of a large tourist crowd, many of whom are not savvy enough to know (or care) about authentic, high quality Native American art versus imitation crafts.

So now it is time for us to say goodbye to an exhausting summer of live events and begin preparations for the few events in the fall – Cherokee Art Market in Tulsa, SWAIA Winter Indian Market, and a few other juried events. Soon the snow will be falling on the peaks of the Sangre de Cristo mountains to the east of Santa Fe, and we will snuggle down in our blankets and replay fond memories of the hectic and oh, so enjoyable summer that was, hopefully erasing or abating the memories of the two prior years of summers that were not. We can also look forward to getting back to some semblance of normal in future years, as artists work hard this winter to innovate and improve their skills and give us even more spectacular and breath-taking works of art.

Lacking written languages, the First Americans used dance to communicate from generation to generation. They used dance to communicate with their holy ones, seeking fortune with crops and with hunting. They used dance to offer appreciation for the natural bounties they received from Mother Earth.

Some current Native American dances are open to non-tribe members and others are restricted to only tribe members for religious reasons. It is always important to ask in advance and make sure you are not intruding on a private ceremony.

We often see brief “tourist-oriented” dances at Indian markets, at gala dinners, at museum openings, and similar venues. These are often colorful, active, and a condensed version of the actual dance.  For the casual tourist, they are quite interesting to watch. The Indian Pueblo Cultural Center in Albuquerque has a number of weekend dances in which explanations are given to the tourists ringing the outside dance area.

Typically, feast days and religious holidays involve dances. The different clans in a tribe or pueblo often have their own specific regalia and tell stories about their clan through dance.

One of the first dances I saw was on a pueblo roof at Zuni Pueblo many years ago. We stayed at the fabulous Inn at Halona, a small B&B right in the middle of the pueblo (highly recommended by me) and one of our Zuni sculptor friends asked us if we wanted to go to the dance later that evening. Of course we agreed, and when the sun went down, we headed to the middle portion of the pueblo and took the dirt path up to the rooftop. In the plaza below, we saw the tribal elders sitting in their folding chairs in a ring around the plaza, and the dancers in the center. Our friend strongly suggested we not approach the kiva ladder and opening down into the kiva, as that was where the dancers were preparing for the dance. He then explained a little of each dance, and told us that the dances would likely continue all night long. With those simple instructions, we immediately became consumed with the music, the dances, and the stories that were told. Though neither of us speak more than a few words of the Zuni language, the communication was strongly evident in the dance moves, the regalia, and the progression of dancers.

Another time, we were up at Santa Clara Pueblo for one of their summer feast days. This time, we came early with folding chairs, hats, and lots of water. There are several major plazas at Santa Clara, and the dancers from each clan would come to a plaza, complete their dance, and then move to the next plaza to do it again. After five or six clans had rotated through the plaza where we were sitting, we noticed the first dance group returning. They continued all day long, progressing from plaza to plaza.

We had been invited to “grandma’s house” as part of the feast by one of our Santa Clara potter friends. It turns out that every house in Santa Clara pueblo is “grandma’s house” and tend to have no street signs or house numbers. But we managed to find the correct “grandma’s house” with friendly assistance from the Santa Clara residents, and went in to have a bite to eat with grandma’s family. When we got to the house, we both realized that in this case, grandma was Margaret Tafoya, and we both looked at each other with wide eyes, wondering if we should set foot in the house where this incredible matriarch grew up and made her pottery. We finally got enough courage to go in, and we were immediately warmly welcomed to the home by her family. Sitting and chatting with the Tafoya family members was another of those experiences we will never forget.

A few years ago, we were back out at Zuni Pueblo for their Mainstreet festival, which is very reminiscent to a Southwestern pow-wow. Lots of artists showing their talents – of course we managed to purchase a few pieces of art. There was also a huge main tent for the dances. I enjoyed the buffalo dance and the deer dance, as some of the dancers had authentic, harvested headdresses as part of their regalia and the hunters and pueblo maidens had elaborate regalia to tell their part of the stories.

Quite a few years ago, Michael and I went to the Five Civilized Tribes pow-wow at the Standing Bear Park in Ponca City (northern Oklahoma), and they had an amazing Grand Entry dance and dance competitions throughout the weekend. The drummers sat under a tent in the center of the dance area, and the dancers proceeded to demonstrate their talents. In years long ago, the multi-tribe pow-wows were an excellent mechanism for young people to meet someone from a neighboring tribe. It also fostered cooperation and good will between the tribes.

The Chicasaw Nation formed the Chicasaw Nation Dance Troup in 1992 to help preserve their cultural stories. We thought that sounded interesting, so we investigated further. At the Chickasaw Nation Cultural Center and museum near Sulphur, Oklahoma, we had an opportunity to watch several dances, and then the big surprise – they invited the audience to participate in a friendship dance. Of course, I was on the stage in a heartbeat, with Michael and his two left feet ambling on behind me. The dance “demonstrators” explained that friendship dances were often held between tribes for that express purpose – to get to know each other and dance to the music. So we did.

Over the past couple of decades, we have seen the emergence of hoop dancing, and there is now a World Championship event held at the Heard Museum each spring. One of our extremely talented artist friends, Steve LaRance, has created the Lightning Boy Foundation as a non-profit organization to spread hoop dancing throughout the northern New Mexico pueblos, giving young people both an outlet for their athletic tendencies and also to deepen their understanding of their culture and values. The Lightning Boy hoop dancers perform on the weekends in the Santa Fe plaza, and are often asked to perform at gala events in and around New Mexico. In past years, they have performed at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland and other prestigious locations.

Dance is much more than just swaying to tunes. Early man (and woman) used dance as part of a simple mating ritual. It evolved into telling stories, and even more into the communication of cultural values like thanking the deer for helping to sustain the lives of the tribe. Today, dance still has all of those components, with the addition of competition to demonstrate the artistic elements of dance.

If you have never been to a Native American dance, now is the time to do so. Spring and summer dances are frequent, and feast days are identified on most pueblo and tribal calendars. It is an experience that will forever enhance your perception of Native American culture.

That brought to mind – for me, at least – the very similar and equally tragic stories of other peoples who went through these terrors. Sadly, the terrors were also right here in the United States.

Many different ethnic groups migrated to the United States over the past several hundred years. Many were placed into indentured servitude – one small step above outright slavery – and entire families grew up in those conditions. They were the Chinese, the Scots, the Italians, the Irish, and so forth. But that is not what really came to mind when I thought of Juneteenth.

I immediately thought of the residents of this continent before the European incursions. Native American peoples had lived in North America for over 15,000 years. When the European explorers arrived, they unfortunately brought viruses and diseases for which the Native American populations had no protection. Entire tribes were wiped away. It was unintentional genocide, but catastrophic nonetheless.

As the European immigrants settled into the New World, they began expanding from the East Coast of North America further into the continent. In doing so, they often displaced the existing residents from their lands. Many treaties were signed, giving the Native American tribes “rights” to their own land, and “protecting” them from further degradations of their living conditions. One example of this, near and dear to my heart as this is roughly where my family settled, is the Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek, signed in 1830 between the US Government and the Choctaw tribe. In that treaty, the Choctaw relinquished roughly 11 million acres of fertile Mississippi land in exchange for roughly 15 million acres of far less desirable what would later become Oklahoma land.

This was the very first treaty signed under the Indian Relocation Act, a Federal law giving the US Government the authority to move Native Americans from their ancestral lands to lands further away from their home. Roughly 15,000 Choctaw walked to their new territory, suffering one of the worst blizzards of the winter of 1830-31 and a devastating cholera epidemic in 1832. Almost twenty percent of these men, women, and children died during this forced migration. The Choctaw, one of the Five Civilized Tribes, were the first to be forced out, followed quickly by the Cherokee, Muscogee Creek, Seminole, and Chickasaw.

These forced migrations were later named the “Trail of Tears” as the travel conditions were cruel and the Native Americans arrived to find no shelters, no food, and almost no ability to survive. The Choctaw did survive, rebuilding a community that lasted until Oklahoma was opened to white settlement in the “Land Rush” in the 1880’s and later when Oklahoma was admitted to Statehood in 1907. During that period, the Choctaw were stripped of much of their land, forced into smaller and less desirable lands, and eventually even stripped of their own governmental structures so that Oklahoma could gain statehood.

As the United States population surged further westward, this devastation of the Native American peoples occurred over and over. The Native American elders were of two minds – one group in every tribe wanted to peacefully accommodate the new settlers, and the other group wanted to try to enforce the treaties of the US Government by force if necessary. Again, sadly, the US Government decided to side with the new settlers and often forced the Native American tribes into reservations and prisons, stripping them of their rights that were supposedly guaranteed under the US Government treaties.

A strong example that comes to mind here in the American Southwest is the imprisonment and forced relocation of the Navajo and Mescalero Apache peoples from around Arizona and New Mexico to a horrid encampment at Bosque Redondo in southeastern New Mexico. Another “Trail of Tears” took place in the 1860’s. While Bosque Redondo, known to the Navajo as “the place of suffering” is the most familiar, there were numerous forced marches of tribes to locations such as Fort Wingate, Fort Defiance, Fort Sumter, and others. These marches were always on foot, without food or drink, and lasted for hundreds of miles through extremely rigorous terrain. Stories were told of young children drowning in river crossings, of parents starving to death so their children could have another few bites of food, of disease and injuries, of torture, rape, and abuse by the soldiers, and horrid deaths.

The Bosque Redondo Memorial just opened an exhibit at Fort Sumner to remember the tragic conditions suffered by the Native Americans forced on this and many other cruel relocations. The exhibit calls the trials of the Navajo, Mescalero Apache, and other tribes a testament to their resiliency. From the perspective of the survivors, it definitely is a testament.

But it is also another reminder, much as we have from the Juneteenth celebration, that human beings have incredible capacity for cruelty and violence, along with incredible capacity for caring and compassion. It is our choice as to which direction we choose to go as a people.

The atrocities of the past make me angry – so angry that we could do those things to others. This has gone on as long as we have been on this earth. Lest we forget, Native Americans often had slaves from other tribes. African-Americans had slaves from other African tribes here in the United States. Even today, we hear many stories of women being abducted here in the United States and elsewhere for the sex slave trade. In any form, slavery is abhorrent, and we need to acknowledge this and prevent its reoccurrence. My husband always says, “Learn from the past, live in the present, and plan for the future.” We need to learn from the past – not continue to live in the past or try to profit from the tragedies of our ancestors. We cannot change what happened in the past. But we can change today and tomorrow.

I am greatly saddened when I go to a place like Bosque Redondo, as I can see the blood and tears of innocent peoples on the ground. I pray that we have learned something from our cruel past, which stretches back to when the first aboriginal man used a club on another aboriginal man. I pray that what we see in today’s senseless violence of mass shootings, unchecked crime, bigotry, and hatred can be overcome so we can all live in happiness together. I pray that we can grow together as one people, celebrating the cultural differences that we all have, yet moving together toward harmony and kindness. It is our choice.

A young boy by the name of Ansel Adams was able to experience some of this early in his life, when his parents took him on a trip to Yosemite Valley in California. He immediately fell in love with the valley, and spent his entire life capturing the American Southwest in general, and the Yosemite Valley area in particular, on film. Often regarded as one of the greatest American photographers, his extensive portfolio of still images is a rich testament to this geographic beauty.

In March, the New Mexico Museum of Art sponsored a talk by Dr. Rebecca Senf, the chief curator of the Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona – Tucson. Rebecca has spent her academic career focused on the works of Ansel Adams, and she gave a wonderful talk discussing the life and contributions of Ansel Adams.

The major elements of what Rebecca discussed were already known to us, as Michael is a huge fan of Ansel Adams and we have two of Adams’ large Yosemite prints in one of our hallways at the house. Michael has visited the Ansel Adams Gallery in Yosemite Valley a number of times over the past fifty years to admire the collected works of Adams. Our next trip might involve a stop at the Tucson Center to see even more of Adams’ works.

Ansel Adams was born in San Francisco, so a family vacation to relatively nearby Yosemite Valley in the early twentieth century would not be particularly unusual. An only child, Adams was encouraged by his parents to pursue music, which he did with the piano, and subsequently encouraged to pursue photography, using an original Kodak No. 1 Box Brownie. Ansel visited Yosemite Valley for the first time in 1916 at the age of 14, using his rudimentary camera to capture a number of images that are on exhibit at The University of Arizona – Tucson to this very day. He fell in love with Yosemite Valley that summer, and would return each year to the valley until his death in 1984.

There are many photographs of Ansel Adams going about his work in the American Southwest. Often, all of his camera equipment, tripods, and glass photographic slides are shown strapped to a donkey, the transportation of choice in the rugged terrain he was photographing. Instead of using timed exposure film, he continued to use heavier glass slides throughout his career because he felt he could control the exposures, shadows, and depth of field with more precision.

What stands out almost immediately when one views an Ansel Adams photograph is the interpretation that Adams gives to the scene. His selection of perspective – where to stand to view an entire mountain range, or to view a valley scene, or to view a grove of trees – contributes to an energy level of the scene that, when combined with his manipulation of photographic variables, leads to a dynamic presentation of a scene that most people would not perceive.

In one famous story related by Dr. Senf, Adams and his small group trekked up the trails to a specific spot in Yosemite Valley, where Adams wanted to capture the energy of Half Dome, a monstrous chunk of stone regally raised above the valley floor. While making the trip, Adams continued to find interesting scenes to photograph, rapidly diminishing his supply of glass photographic slides. When he arrived at the plateau from which he wanted to take the ultimate Half Dome photograph, he had only a handful of slides remaining. He tried several combinations, but knew that he didn’t have exactly the right mix of variables to produce the image he wanted. Down to his last slide, he carefully thought through all the variables, and as the light began to fade, he took the shot. It was magnificent, and through his clever use of exposure and filters, became an iconic image of Half Dome – one that nobody will see in real life, as the colors in Adams’ shot were created by Adams just for the photo.

Throughout his life, Adams demonstrated why his use of photography was more than just a true-to-life recording of a scene. He used his artistic skills to transform scenes with a consistent flair for drama and energy. As Dr. Senf mentioned in her discussion, “The photographs of Ansel Adams are immediately recognizable by anyone who knows his work. They may not have seen the specific photograph in question, but his style is very evident.” Much like we recognize the styles of famous oil painters, we can also recognize the dynamic images of Ansel Adams.

After the talk, Dr. Senf remained for questions from the audience. She later moved into the lobby where she chatted with attendees and signed copies of her new book, Making a Photographer – The Early Work of Ansel Adams. Michael, of course, enthusiastically took advantage of this and received a wonderfully inscribed message in his book, which will rapidly join his collection of treasured tomes.

Many thanks to the New Mexico Museum of Art for sponsoring this talk by Dr. Senf. This lecture, and the many more offered by the Museum, adds depth to the wonderful experience of living in and traveling about the American Southwest. Never again will I look at a beautiful sunrise, a stunning mountain valley, or a babbling river without thinking of how Ansel Adams could have transformed that image to something even more spectacular. Yes, it definitely helps to have the awesome raw materials of Mother Nature with which to work, but the touch of an artist helps to bring out emotions and energies that otherwise might be unseen.

IAIA has roughly 500 full-time students enrolled in their degree programs, with almost 20 per cent of that amount in graduate degree programs. When other categories such as part-time are added, the total headcount soars to almost 1000 students, representing 91 Native American tribes. Though highly oriented toward Native American arts, both Native American and non-Native American students are welcomed to the campus. A university with a global scope, IAIA currently has students enrolled from over three dozen States and half a dozen countries.

In 1986, IAIA had a significant milestone in its history when the US Congress made them one of only three Congressionally-chartered schools in the US. The focus of IAIA is American Indian and Alaska Native arts and culture, and their accredited degree programs revolve around this focus.

IAIA offers a broad spectrum of creative art fields for students, starting with often overlooked ones in museum studies and Native American art history. They have vibrant undergraduate programs in performing arts, cinematic arts, creative writing, and (my favorite) studio arts. Creative Writing and Studio Arts have graduate degrees offered as well. Michael’s favorite courses, as he is a retired businessperson and retired University professor, are found in the business and entrepreneurship offerings within one of their majors, so students can be both successful as artists and successful as small business owners.

Earlier this month, we had the opportunity to visit IAIA during one of their visiting Artist-in-Residence programs. IAIA brings in these world class Native American artists from various fields, and they get to work with their own creations in large, well-equipped studios, as well as work with students eager to learn at the feet of the masters. One of our friends, Cliff Fragua, was asked to be an Artist-in-Residence for two months, and IAIA arranged for a reception and tour of the studio spaces open to the general public.

We gleefully piled in the car and headed to IAIA for the reception, where we had a chance to mingle with a number of IAIA faculty and students while eating a catered dinner. We were both impressed at the quality of faculty – many with terminal degrees – and the eager, cheerful students. Following the dinner, we headed down to the stone sculpture studio to chat with Cliff.

Along the walk to the studio spaces, we came across an exhibition of student art. Wandering about for a few minutes, we were amazed at the skill and attention to quality of these students. Yes, there were quite a few ribbons and we debated between ourselves which ones we liked the best, but the overall impression of the exhibition was “wow!”

Cliff’s studio space at IAIA is part classroom with work tables and the ability to work with small groups of students and part stone sculpting tools.

Cliff brought to IAIA a roughly four-foot-tall marble maiden that he had been working on for a number of years, a start-and-stop project as his time permitted. The marble was from the same large piece of Tennessee marble from which he created the dynamic Po’Pay statue that stand in the National Statuary Hall of the US Congress.

A consummate perfectionist, Cliff has worried over the expression of the maiden, the accurate portrayal of her arms and torso proportions, and how he can bring his vision to life.

We sat and chatted with Cliff for quite a while, as other people wandered into the studio and listened to the conversations. Often a spirited exchange would take place with several visitors, and everyone was truly blessed to get this intimate discussion from Cliff.

Cliff showed us some of the tools he uses to sculpt stone. Individual stone pieces, like the Po’Pay statue, come from massive blocks of stone. Cliff told us about having the stone from which Po’Pay was sculpted delivered by a large flat-bed truck to his studio in Jemez Pueblo, where he had to erect a sturdy A-frame to work on the stone. Even a “small” piece like his four-foot maiden can be several hundred pounds or more. As many sculptors did in the past, Cliff started with large and small chisels to take away the “non-subject” pieces of rock, leaving only the sculpture that was intended. He moved to larger diamond-tipped carbide blades for his saws, making the initial removal much more straight-forward.

Once the figure is roughed out, Cliff then begins the delicate process of creating the art within the rock. He talked about using a small star-point chisel to carefully extract very small pencil eraser size parts of the rock, and the extensive sanding and smoothing that takes place as well.

Our time at IAIA for this reception was all too soon over, so we thanked Cliff and departed homeward. This won’t be our last visit to IAIA, however, as they continually present both the works of their students and the receptions of visiting Artists-in-Residence to keep the general public engaged.

On this sixtieth birthday of IAIA, we celebrate not only the Institute and its focus on maintaining Native American arts and culture, but also the talented students and dedicated faculty that are the lifeblood of emerging Native American artists. Knowing that these students are learning and polishing their artistic talents and are ready to assume their position as the next generation of cultural messengers is both comforting and inspiring. IAIA, Happy Birthday, and here’s to many more to come!

A wonderful man, and an incredibly talented jeweler, Albert Lee, has passed away.

Albert was born in 1980, making him a very young 41 years old. He passed away on the evening of April 12 in his hometown of Farmington, NM at a park where he often went to relax, meditate, and enjoy the splendid scenery.

I will always remember Albert as someone who cared deeply about those around him. He often met me with a huge smile and a big hug at art markets, and I always made a specific point of knowing where his booth was and making a beeline there when the market opened. Usually he was accompanied by his mother Velma, a constant source of assistance and support for Albert. Generally we focused on how we were doing since the last time we had chatted, and Albert was all too eager to show me the lovely jewelry he had made since then.

One of the most humble people I know, Albert tended to downplay his amazing talents. I, on the other hand, am very willing to discuss them. He had several generations of teaching behind him, particularly the skills and tools from his father, Alfred. Albert was an exacting technician when it came to both silversmithing and stone placement, and his bezels were always perfectly centered, aligned, and sized. The stones he selected were of the highest quality he could acquire, and he and his older brother Chuck carefully cut them to present the most amazing colors possible. When mounted on the heavy silver base, the stones took on a life of their own, and I sighed audibly when he showed me his newest works.

And let it be known that I am not the only one who sighed at the beauty of his works. Albert has a large, dedicated following of galleries, collectors, and even notables (discriminating jewelry wearers) such as former First Lady Laura Bush and her daughter Jenna Bush Hager.

Many years ago, Michael and I were going through the Navajo Nation to pick up some orders we had placed with different Navajo artists. As part of our journey, we stopped in Farmington to see Albert. We invited Albert and Chuck to join us for lunch, as we would be arriving around 1o in the morning. When we arrived, Albert and Chuck had set a huge spread of fruits, pastries, and other assorted goodies “to tide us over until lunch.” So typical of Albert and his big, loving heart. Yes, we did indulge, and yes, we did acquire some lovely pieces of jewelry that he had just finished, and then we went to lunch with Albert, Chuck, and his parents.

While we were visiting Albert in his home, he delighted in showing us some of the museum-quality works of Native American art that he had collected over the years. Albert was very proud of his Navajo heritage, but also a strong supporter of Native American artists and their expressions of their culture in general. His excellent eye for detail was obvious, and I do not hesitate to believe that he would have been an outstanding judge at the highest level of juried competitions. Of course, Albert would likely have a built-in conflict of interest if he judged jewelry, if any of his magnificent pieces were entered. But knowing Albert, his integrity and humble nature would award the ribbons to other deserving artists. He was just that way.

Earlier this month, I had a large “surprise” birthday party at our home in Santa Fe, and Michael invited our neighbors, local friends, and nearby Native American artists to join us in this party. To our great pleasure, Albert and Chuck drove down from Farmington the night before and came over to the party. Albert told me of their travel plans, and of course I asked them to stop by early so we could have a visit before the other 70 or so guests arrived. They agreed, and we had several wonderful hours to chat in our living room.

So this is a very sad time for me. A giant has fallen. His time here with us on Mother Earth ended all too soon. In passing, Albert follows his older brother Vince, and he is survived by his parents Alfred and Velma, and his older brother Chuck, and many related family members. It is a very sad time for them as well, and I ask that you keep them all in your prayers. We will say our farewells to Albert on Saturday at his services in Farmington and celebrate his life. And I will miss him so.

We are all diminished by the loss of Albert, and I grieve that I will no longer see his smiling face except in my pictures and memories. In my memory, I see Albert’s huge smile, his warm hug, and his radiant personality. That is how I will always see him. A giant has fallen, and a dear friend is no longer with me.

We both love poetry, and were quite intrigued by the opportunity to hear an actual Poet Laureate discuss her works. Right after getting our tickets for the event, we did some quick discovery on both what a Poet Laureate is and who Joy Harjo is.

The first part of our investigation was fairly easy. Started in 1936, a United States Poet Laureate is selected by the head of the Library of Congress to represent and promote poetry throughout the United States. This position nominally lasts for one year, though many have been appointed to a second term to see the completion of projects that they may have underway.  Only Robert Pinsky and Joy Harjo have been given a third consecutive term as Poet Laureate. Pinsky was asked to retain the position for a third term because of the United States Bicentennial celebrations, and Harjo has extensive projects underway during a difficult pandemic.

Due to the success of this highly visible national position, many individual States have also appointed State Poet Laureates (in 2020 New Mexico recently became the 46^th State to do so) and even some cities like Santa Fe have established City Poet Laureate positions.

The second part of our investigation was a bit more complex. The basic facts are straightforward – Joy Harjo is the first Native American to hold the position of United States Poet Laureate, a Muscogee Creek who attended the Institute of American Indian Arts (IAIA) in Santa Fe as a high school student, a graduate of The University of New Mexico and a holder of a Masters of Fine Arts from the University of Iowa, a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, a very talented saxophone and flute player, and an activist for both feminist and Native American rights. But as is always the case, understanding the person behind the resume is far, far more challenging.

Following a nice introduction by the Museum of New Mexico, Joy came onto the stage and began her presentation. We thought we might get a brief poetry reading, but were we pleasantly surprised! Joy started with a brief discussion of her United States Poet Laureate position and duties, and gave us a nice overview of where she wanted to take the evening’s discussion.

We were all quite pleased when Joy started with a lovely tune on her wooden flute, throwing bright rays of sunshine, butterflies, and the scent of morning dew scampering through our imaginations.

Joy read a few passages from her latest memoir, Poet Warrior, and also a few small parts of her latest book of poetry, An American Sunrise. Throughout the readings, she imbued the words with depth of emotion, giving her words strength and passion. As she read, she became the poem and lifted the audience to thrilling heights and insights about her culture and her life. Her voice had an inner strength and commanded the attention of the audience. We didn’t dare even breathe while she was reading her poems, for fear of making a slight noise or missing a key word or phrase.

Joy’s poetry is much more than just pretty words strung together. It reveals a depth of pain going back to the Muscogee Creek journey along the Trail of Tears in the 1830’s, abandoning their Southeastern Woodlands home in Tennessee, Georgia, and Mississippi to be forced into Oklahoma reservations. Many died during this tragic episode, and many more were forever uprooted and separated from their ancestral homelands. The Muscogee Creek are known as one of the “Five Civilized Tribes,” and their story is beautifully told in the Five Civilized Tribes museum in Muskogee, Oklahoma. The five civilized tribes include the Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Seminole, and Muscogee.

The Mississippian culture from which the Muscogee Creek emerged over a thousand years ago was a civilized, mound-building, peaceful society. They traded extensively with their neighbors, and established a thriving agriculturally-based series of communities. Archaeologists have traced the roots of these peoples back to the Paleo-Indians who first settled the area over 12,000 years ago.

Joy also traces the recent abuses to her peoples in her poetry, though it is more of a sense of resigned acceptance of past atrocities and a sense of current and future dignity than what many others write. Her hope for the future is bright and welcoming, looking to the abundance found around us and to the possibility of a better life for her grandchildren.

There is a very evident strain of philosophy in Joy’s work, accompanied by a belief in equality and justice for not only her people, but for everyone. As an early feminist and Native American rights activist, Joy’s inner angst comes from a place of experience, and her voice clearly expresses these many lessons.

Having spent my entire life immersed in Native American cultures, particularly those of the American Southwest, I was familiar with the broad strokes that Joy painted with her words. I knew of the Trail of Tears, as my parents grew up in Oklahoma and favored Oklahoma Native American artists who drew extensively from that tragic episode in our history. I knew of the repeated treaty violations by the US Government, as they continually and deliberately destroyed Native American cultures. I read the sanitized version in school books, and then learned the other side of the story from my Native American artist friends.

I agree with Joy, and look forward to reading more of her almost two dozen books of poetry, memoirs, and anthologies of other Native American poets. We cannot change the past, nor should we ever forget the past. We live in the present and plan for the future, and that present and future can and should be equally prosperous for everyone. Basic human rights apply to all humans, regardless of cultural origin. We should all be allowed the same dignity as human beings and afforded the same respect. Voices of strength, like Joy Harjo’s, are beacons and guideposts for us to improve our society. Those voices of strength should continue to be heard.

However, for the most part, these large sculptures don’t fit in our homes, so the world of sculptors has produced sculptures in all different types of media meant for office or home display. Successful bronze sculptors like Remington have their sculptures everywhere. That is because they often authorize dozens if not hundreds of each work in various sizes, because the artistic work has been completed with the creation of the mold.

Other mediums, like stone and wood, tend to produce individual sculptural creations, as there is no mold for easy replication of the sculpture. Stone, in particular, attracts me because there is no recourse once a chisel cuts into a stone. The sculptor can’t just glue it back on. Each cut, each laborious layer of sanding, each detail becomes excruciatingly important for the artist.

That detail is one of the aspects that originally attracted me to Zuni fetishes and carvings. These small sculptures started out, hundreds of years ago, as found stones that resembled (to the imaginative eye) a forest creature. These stones were treasured as they were believed to possess the spirits of those forest creatures, and would somehow bestow the characteristics of that creature to the holder of the stone. For example, badgers are aggressive and territorial, so those characteristics would flow into the holder of the stone.

But Native American artists were not satisfied with just the stones created by Mother Earth. They began to shape the stones, bringing out more detail and character to their carvings. Some stones, like turquoise, were softer and easier to carve than others. Wood possessed much of the same softness, so it also became a favorite medium for Native American carvers.

As tools evolved, so did the elegance and fine detail of the carvings. Different stones were inserted for eyes, or as elements of maidens clothing. Combinations of stones were included as part of the prayer bundles often affixed to the backs of the creatures. These enhanced carvings were still carried in small pouches or pockets by many Native Americans as were the original found stones.

As with all artists, Native American artists began to innovate and experiment with their carvings. Many went to Europe and Asia to study with great masters, and to learn the techniques and lessons that aided the creativity within the soul of the artist. They learned how to separate the unneeded stone from the sculptural form they were creating, finding the object they sought within the raw stone.

Other sculptors began the cutting and mosaic additions of smaller stones, often of different types and colors, to create the forms that they imagined.

And yet other sculptors looked at the materials they had around their homes and began to create imaginative sculptures with mediums like shell, deer antler, and even combinations of these mediums with other materials.

The size and complexity of these small fetishes grew rapidly, as stone sculptors learned to take large pieces of granite, sandstone, and other stones and extract from these stones the vision that they had. Cliff Fragua of Jemez Pueblo in 2005 created a large 7-foot-tall marble sculpture of Po’pay, the Native American leader who began the 1680 Pueblo Rebellion. This inspirational sculpture stands in Emancipation Hall in the US Capitol Building Visitor Center in Washington D.C.

Other sculptors, such as Todd Westika and Jeff Shetima, both of Zuni Pueblo, have taken their small fetishes and turned them into larger scale works of sculpture. Todd, for example, recently took a buffalo horn and added inlay to the horn and created a sculptural work that stands 5 inches tall. He also gathered Orthoceras fossil stones (containing the fossilized remains of creatures from millions of years ago) and carved them into beautiful corn maidens. These maidens represent a fundamental aspect of Native American culture, as they are the ones who bless and aid the vitally important corn crop.

Jeff Shetima, who has been carving stone fetishes for many years, expanded with a striking mother of pearl dragonfly, sitting atop a set of sterling silver cattails, anchored to a chunk of cuprite to resemble Mother Earth. This stunning 5-inch-tall sculpture embodies the multi-media approach of assembling materials that belong in the vision, not trying to force one particular medium to satisfy all aspects of the creation. As a talented stone sculptor who favors Picasso marble, Jeff also created a highly detailed and very life-like bear, adding inlay of coral, jet, turquoise and mother of pearl to the almost 5-inch-tall figure.

Art continues to evolve. As sculptors learn ways to express their visions, they produce increasingly interesting pieces of art. Seeing their expressions of vision is inspirational to me, and I eagerly await the next items that come from their souls.

When I am fortunate enough to have these sculptures arrive at my Gallery, I am spiritually elevated as I gaze upon them. It is bittersweet, as I know that somewhere, someone is seeking to bring this sculpture into their home or office, and my enjoyment of the sculpture in my Gallery is only temporary.

Through March and April of this year, we are showcasing many different works of sculpture in our online exhibition titled Native American Sculpture Artistic Cultural Interpretations. This exhibition celebrates the works of over thirty Native American sculptors that we have been fortunate enough to have in our Gallery. We hope you enjoy the exhibition, and are inspired to bring a small or medium size Native American sculpture into your home or office.