Tony Abeyta’s (Navajo) work invokes complex tribal symbolism in highly original images that riff on styles from Modernist to contemporary. He works in a variety of media, including oil, charcoal, and sand.
In a recent interview, he noted an "abrupt change in palette," toward "richer and more vibrant" color. An exhibition of his large-scale drawingsÑwith some innovations he is keeping mum aboutÑwill precede the Indian Market show.
In the Indian Market exhibition, Abeyta will show mixed-media works on board, incorporating oils, sand, and three-dimensional woodcarving with some surprising new elements. For him, the work is always about change; about following what manifests in the creative process. "Sometimes I know what I am going to do when I start," he says. "Often, I don’t. A lot of satisfaction comes out of the chaos. It is a great experience to be able to paint, to do what I want to do. I feel a tremendous gratitude for that."
Gerald Cournoyer (Oglala Sioux) strives to "tell the story of two lives [this life and the afterlife] through shapes, size, structure, scale, composition, and color" in his striking abstract paintings.
Recently, he has begun layering collage elements into his work. His work is essentially spiritual, and he wishes to accentuate "the movement of the dance rather than the dancer." The layers of collage emphasize movement and process over product. "I embrace the notion that you get out of a project what you put into it," he says emphatically. "I put everything I possibly can into my work."
Tammy Garcia (Santa Clara Pueblo). Looking to the future from the perspective of her 21-year career working with pottery, Garcia reflects, "my goals are to continue to perfect technical aspects of my work and to explore new media. For the last eight years I have been working with bronze, and it still feels new to me. Working with oil-based clay [for bronze casting] is exciting, because it never dries; there is no time limitation, which is wonderful. I can add clay as I work."
"My first experience working with glass was three years ago, in collaboration with Preston Singletary. It got me thinking about scale, in a new way. I am experimenting with designing panels of fabricated glass, and carving layers of imagery into them. It’s a new way of thinking about positive and negative space. Unlike bronzeÑwhere the color is done with patina, and the range is broadÑwith glass I work in two shades: frost and clear. Clay, of course, has its own natural pigments. These three media provide me with three different modes of expression, which keeps the work new and exciting."
Norma Howard’s (Choctaw, Chickasaw) highly detailed paintings depict Indian life in centuries past. She predicts that her work will expand into the realm of historic narrative, of "survival stories," she says.
Her father’s ancestors walked the Trail of Tears, the forced relocation in 1838 of the Cherokee and other Native Americans to what would become the state of Oklahoma, resulting in the deaths of more than 15,000 Indian people. Howard sees her work as "like a circle . . . a giving back . . . in my own way."
She refers to her exacting brushwork as "basket-weave stroke." Basket weaving has been essential to Choctaw cultural and physical survival, and their signature technique involves tight weaving of the smallest-diameter grasses. "My problem," Howard says, "is that when I make art, I don’t want to stop. . . . Art is always on my mind."
Hyrum Joe’s (Navajo) nascent career as an artist is off to a remarkably strong start. His oil portraits and charcoal drawings capture his subjects in a style whose maturity belies his twenty-seven years of age. "The best career move I’ve made," says Joe, "has been my association with Blue Rain Gallery. I love how open-minded and supportive Blue Rain has been." He wants "to do bigger and better pieces," he says. "It’s always about improving my craft, my talent, and my skill." In the near future, he sees himself traveling to and painting Asian and Polynesian tribal cultures.
Les Namingha’s (Hopi, Zuni) traditionally shaped pottery is painted with bold abstract expressionist designs that are at once traditional, modern, and unmistakably his own. He comes from a family of clay artists who are always experimenting. Namingha juxtaposes Hopi designs and contemporary colors in his work. "The fun part," he says, "is that I don’t know where my work will be in five yearsÑeach piece is a surprise."
Jamie Okuma (Shoshone-Bannock, Luise–o, Okinawan, Hawaiian) refers to her award-winning work as "soft sculpture." Her historically authentic figures are constructed of traditional materials and attired in Plains and Plateau ceremonial garments. She strives for realism, to a point at which her imagination takes over. She omits the figures’ facial features, inviting the viewer’s imagination to provide them.
Okuma would "love to do bigger pieces," she says, "not necessarily in terms of size, but complexity." In particular she sees herself sculpting more horses.
Mateo Romero (Cochiti Pueblo) is an internationally recognized artist, writer, and educator. His mixed-media works incorporate photo transfer and sensuous layers of paint.
Most of the photographs in his paintings, usually images of Pueblo dancers, are his own, often of people he knows. He combines, he says, "elements of portraiture and the narrative of the dance."
He occasionally reappropriates the historic photos of Edward Curtis and other "romantic imagery of Indians." He recently acquired a group of such photos from the Smithsonian and discovered among them a photograph of Cochiti Pueblo in which he recognized his uncle, now in his eighties, as a handsome teenager. His work, he says, is "capturing moments of the Rio Grande Pueblo world nowÑdocumenting the moment."
In the future, he says, his work will "evolve into more highly saturated color and contrast. I was originally an oil easel painter. About five years ago, I moved to mixed-media work; now I am returning to oil."
Maria Samora (Taos Pueblo) describes her stunning compositions as "natural forms made contemporary." Her jewelry designs, she says, "arise independently, from nature." This show will feature more gold.
Although she has been invited to exhibit at the Smithsonian, among many other honors and awards, including first place in her Indian Market category, she feels that "I am barely scratching the surface of what is possible in my work."
Yellowbird, an avid skier and kayaker, is "attracted to water," he says, to "fluid, liquid forms." He works "the shapes of traditional Pueblo pottery into something totally contemporary, with less emphasis on design and pattern than on the elemental form of the pottery. I try to leave something to the viewer to interpret. People say it looks like human forms; other viewers see moving water. I want it to have an organic feel . . . something of Pueblo pottery and something of what the viewer brings to it."
The future of his work, he says, will involve "the pottery dictating its own form. I am always developing a closer relationship with the clay; it’s a constant process of patience, trial, and error."
Russell Sanchez (San Ildefonso Pueblo) gathers all of his clayÑand much of his inspirationÑon hiking and rafting trips. He uses the traditional coil method before firing his work outdoors using traditional pit-firing methods, with cedar and dung fuel. His work has won many Indian Market awards, including Best of Pottery last year.
Sanchez is always experimenting with materials and techniques. He thrives on the new and the unpredictable and finds questions about the future of his work laughable. "Artists don’t live by a datebook or a planner," he says. "I don’t always know what I am going to be doing next month or next year. . . . I might have a general idea, and then inspiration hitsÑwhether in the form of the color in a cliff face while rafting down the Grand Canyon, the way water falls, a bird, or an opening in my thoughtsÑand boom! my direction is changed."
Preston Singletary (Tlingit) is one of the few Native Americans working in glass. He infuses his work with a narrative quality inspired, he says, by "tribal story-telling culture."
Born in 1963, Singletary has been working with glass since 1982. One of his interests is working with and exposing other Native artists to the glass medium. He is drawn toward ever larger projects, sculpting monumental forms that push the limitations of the materials. He seeks, he says "to develop new ways of working with different forms to highlight Tlingit designs."
Singletary says he is moving toward "manipulating the glass by hand to achieve more sculptural forms that push the possibilities of the material." He thinks of glass as "bringing a new dimension to Native artworkÑa luminous quality."
Richard Zane Smith (Wyandot) is an illusionist of the highest order. His clay vessels bear a detailed resemblance to finely woven basketry. Through the use of unconventional contours, color, and design, Smith coaxes the intricate texture of woven reeds and grasses out of clay.
A run-in with a chain saw and other unexpected physical challenges in the past year (from which he has made a strong recovery) have caused Smith to readjust his perspective. "I would love to create a work of art that would make the whole world drop their weapons," he says, "but realistically, I strive to create work that’s grounded in deep beauty and hope, beyond decoration."
Larry Vasquez (Aztec, Mayan, Mescalero Apache) blends and mills the gold and grinds the stones for his jewelry in a painstaking process. The future of his work, he says, hinges upon his ability to listen.
"In the past year, more than ever before," he says, "I am listening . . . and in my studio, I hear the hum of stones talking. They talk to me and I talk to them. Each stone is a being. Stone don’t lie. Stones have been a witness for a long time. They do only one thing: collect information. I allow that information to speak itself into form." Vasquez designs strands of beads to resemble DNA, the most basic repository of information. "I am giving birth," he says, "to pieces that have already been made."