“I am for an art that kicks my soul in the ass. And if we do not have souls, I am for an art that makes me feel like I have a soul, and that it has just been kicked in the ass.”
John Feodorov is always provocative and outspoken on the subject of racism and colonialism, but he mixes it with humor to lighten the blow. He has also used animals frequently as a stand in for white people’s differences from Native beliefs. We make toys of them, while Native people see them as spiritual, creative and embedded in life.
His recent exhibition at 4 Culture “Assimilations” explores the idea of his own mixed background, which he has done indirectly before in other work, but now he foregrounds himself and his family. His mother, a Navajo (Diné) converted to Jehovah’s Witness. “Assimilations” ( I feel there should be double quotes there, as title of show and the fact that he is showing its complexities). He is saying that assimilation
” forces an inherent contradiction within the colonized. Not unlike what Franz Fanon wrote about in Black Skin, White Masks. At least that has been my experience. Some embrace assimilation, while others, like me, cannot make our peace with it. It’s always about not being enough. In my case, not Navajo enough, and certainly not white enough.”
He calls himself a suburban Indian. Buried within his paintings are photographs of boring suburbs in Whittier, California where he grew up. He had two types of contact with Native culture, going back to see his grandparents on the reservation, and the kitsch Indian depictions that American culture spews out as comics, tv shows, movies and documents. In addition to these references, he buries in his paintings, pages from a bible given to him by his mother, the Jehovah’s Witness as well as a Pentecostal hymnals that his mother gave him.
John gave up on organized religion in his twenties, but now he feels that the colonizing of religion still exists inside him. He sees himself as a hybrid.
The paintings are actually a dramatic departure for him, featuring large blocks of bright color that make it hard to see the photographs and other images hat he has pasted on the painting. He told me he had recently become interested in De Kooning, who, of course, is part of the colonization of white culture, the great Abstract Expressionists in the 1950s.
But his interest is obviously about the juicy color that swirls around De Kooning’s subjects, almost absorbing them. I can also think of Hans Hofmann with his big blocks of color, but in Hofmann’s case there is rarely any figurative reference. He told me he also looks at Mondrian, Guston, Jaune Quick to See Smith, and Rick Bartow.
Feodorov was moving in the direction of abstraction in the Desecration series, that addressed uranium mining, oil pipelines and coal fracking on Native land. Yellow becomes uranium.
But in “Assimilations” Feodorov’s main point, as it emerges in the color fields, is his own feeling that the Diné beliefs and the white American perceptions of Indians both still exist inside him.
So as we look closely as this dense colorful paintings, we see strange Indian caricatures, “dictionaries” of Indian languages,; a photograph of his mother wearing a Navajo blanket and what appears to be a kitsch headdress, his elementary school class where he is caricatured with a big “Indian” head and much more. The fact that he has closed off the depth with the color squares, is a metaphor for closing off these elements he carries inside himself.
He alternates these paintings with prints based on photographs that juxtapose stills from Wild West movies of cowboys and members of his family on horses in a series called Ambivalence.
This exhibition includes a work that links to his earlier, more figurative approach My life as a Suburban Ind’n
We see the actual reference points of his early years, especially tv shows and movies caricaturing Indians. The traditional pot with a lace doily on top of the tv epitomizes the contradictions.
The rest of the Assimilations follow the format of large squares of color with racist images just visible. The domination of the color squares over these small Indian caricatures and oddball references speaks to the difficulty of escaping white culture and its caricatures.
John and Nicole Feodorov in front of his large triptych Memories of a Suburban Ind’n no 1. John Feodorov always seems to be smiling at a private joke, in his art and in his natural disposition, but the joke is actually a very serious awareness on his part that he is never going to escape the colonization of his culture or his own complex position within two cultures. .
This entry was posted on June 12, 2024 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Raven is Back!
Raven, the creator in the Tlingit mythology, rescued humans from darkness by stealing the sun.
“He was a white bird and the world was in Darkness. Raven decides he will try and do something about the darkness, for himself and for the world. As he follows the Nass River, he encounters the Fishermen of the Nights … They tell Yeil ( as Raven was then called) that Nass Shaak Arankaawu ( the Nobleman at the Head of the Nass River) has many treasures in his Naa Kanidi ( Clan House)including beautifully carved boxes that house the light,” So Raven having disguised himself as a seed swallowed by a princess who gave birth to a human baby, enchanted her grandfather and then took the stars, and moon out of their boxes and liberated them. He transformed back into a Raven and flew away to liberate the sun ( see my blog post about Preston’s show in Tacoma on this story)
Preston Singletary wondered what Raven has been doing since mythic times, so in his new series of glass works he brings Raven back, he wakes him up to our disastrous world. This exhibition (which unfortunately closed on June 1 but there is a free catalog) includes Raven responding to the damaged world, as well as new stories “New Takes on Traditional Stories” written by collaborator Garth Stein. His texts are written on the wall above the Raven sculptures tell of the challenges Raven faces as he emerges in the world of today.
“I Dream Therefore I am Raven”
Most of the exhibition is contained in the smaller room at Trevor Gallery, a low lighted space with a large photo of the forest at one end. Interspersed throughout the room are the new Raven sculptures: it feels like we are walking into the forest with Raven all around us joining him in his challenges.
Just outside the entrance is a green blue glass piece Raven’s Dream. Raven dreams of the World Before with clear skies, clean water, uncorrupted animals, “magnificent salmon, bellies ripe to bursting with roe hurling themselves up river to spawn. …Before the world turned on itself with contempt and tore itself apart.” The blue glass raven, as all the ravens in the exhibition, is created by first blowing the glass in a kiln, letting it cool, then carving (sandblasting) the designs that he wants. His images are based on traditional Tlingit form lines, but they are directly related to the stories of Raven’s adventures.
To the right of the entrance is “Blue Light Spirit Mobile” suggesting blue spiritual light floating in the air. Nearby is “Communicating with the Spirits” two children riding on a composite bird/animal that is a shaman’s stick. These works set the stage for our entrance into Raven’s experiences.
In the narrow entrance signs say “Have you fed the Raven today” and “Please Feed the Raven.” In the stories Raven is constantly in pursuit of food, as he realizes how degraded the salmon and berries he is given have become.
Just as he is waking up from the lush unspoiled world, he sees skyscrapers, but only for the blink of an eye. A large photograph of the forest at the end of the room briefly transforms into a scene of tall skyscrapers , then returns to the forest.
Near the entrance we see two white Ravens, one atop a globe and one on a stick. Raven was originally white, but when he stole and released the stars, moon and sun, the Chief was so angry that he threw ashes at him and turned him black. But after sleeping for such a long time Raven grew new feathers and turned white again. As he arrives among people all glittering and white, they stare at him, so he decides to rub himself with ashes and turn black again so no one will notice him.
Preston: “In my interpretation of what is happening now I want to believe that Raven is battling climate change, protecting the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women, or helping discover the Boarding School grave sites.”
His first stop is for food, and although he is welcomed, the food he is given does not satisfy him at all, so he seeks the salmon in the river.
The Salmon King sculpture is orange glass as befits a salmon, and he advises Raven on how to bring the salmon to him by expressing gratitude.
The blue glass “Yeti” box called Weird Adventure. Yeti refers to a type of fancy contemporary cooler. The pattern on the box is based on those of traditional bentwood boxes.
Raven opens the box and finds it empty so he crawls in and closes it, then is swept out to sea. He does battle with evil spirits, then through his magical talents creates a way out.
Raven through a hole in the ocean represents his escape as he emerges.
Raven cries to purify the water and to melt the frozen river to liberate the fish there.
Raven visits the grave sites of the children who have died at boarding school; he comforts them with a fog hat which he has taken from a Petrel by trickery.
Raven Protects the Children with faces of children between his wings is one of the most touching in the exhibition. It underscores the extent to which Singletary transforms the traditional vocabulary of Haida sculpture while still staying true to its aesthetic.
The final event is Wolf sitting on a Rock “observant, cunning, ruthless, merciful, the spirit he would need to lead People into the Future World.”
It is hard to overstate how creative this collaboration is between Stein and Singletary. The sculptures each convey the poignancy of the stories. They are all subtly colored, red, yellow, blue and created with blown and sand carved glass compressed within a larger shape and the form lines of traditional Tlingit sculpture.
Stein’s stories seamlessly bring together the mythic and the contemporary in narratives that both tell us of the degraded state of the world, and the possibilities for healing it.
Yet we see how much must be done. That is why Raven in the end dons a warrior hat 
and seeks the help of other animals and birds in his quest.
These hypnotic stories and sculptures give us a deep sense of the quest we must all pursue.
This entry was posted on June 8, 2024 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Henry Taylor 8th floor roof of Whitney Museum of Art, November 2023, Untitled, bronze, 2020
In early November on a trip to NYC, I saw exhibitions by Henry Taylor, Ruth Asawa ( Whitney Museum) and Kay Walkingstick (New York Historical Society): it was wonderful to see the work of major artists in major venues in NYC that are not part of the old fashioined mainstream white guy art history. Each of these artists is now well-known, each has gone entirely in their own chosen direction.
What a change from not too long ago when the big issues were whether art could be political and whether non abstract art was legitimate. But during my career this change has taken place. When I first started writing in the 1970s and 1980s, the farthest from mainstream were the earthworks artists, giant works in the wilderness created by bulldozing. Although they were full of metaphors, ( as in Smithson’s Spiral Jetty) any realism in a painting at that time was still considered a failure of nerve.
Now we have a wide range of possibilities and no one dictating what artists need to do to be creating meaningful art. Admittedly many artists still go after “success” and the latest thing, but many are freed from that to create as they wish. The result is artists like
Henry Taylor, Ruth Asawa, and Kay Walkingstick.
Warning shots not required, 2011 Acrylic, charcoal, and collage on canvas 75 1/4 × 262 1/4 in. (191.1 × 666.1 cm) The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; purchase with funds provided by the Acquisition and Collection Committee
Henry Taylor is from Los Angeles. As a contemporary art critic, I am not familiar with him!. Apparently he had his first solo exhibition about two years ago,in his sixties, and here he is at the Whitney Museum, with a huge exhibition “Henry Taylor: B Side”this is an ironic title, suggesting these are the pieces that are on the “other” side of the record, or in other words, less known. But the exhibiiton is a thorough overview of the artists work. Intriguingly I just discovered that one of the works considered his “masterpiece” by some, was omitted – his transformation of the Demoiselles D’Avignon called From Congo to the Capitol and Black Again.
I think omitting it was a good idea, when all of his paintings here are so sympathetic to the subject (usually families and friends), and personal. We don’t need Picasso to legitimize Henry Taylor.
Eldridge Cleaver, 2007 Acrylic on canvas 75 3/4 × 94 3/4 in. (192.4 × 240.7 cm) Private collection
Henry Taylor, That Was Then, 2013. Acrylic on canvas, 95 × 75 in. (241.3 × 190.5 cm). Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh; The Henry L. Hillman Fund 2013.12. © Henry Taylor. Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth. Photograph by Sam Kahn
Here are two examples of his portraiture the homage to Eldridge Cleaver, above, and the ironic That was Then, below.
Both are painted in flat areas of similar color. Cleaver obviously reminds us of Whistler’s Mother, which is really funny.
That was then shows an old man with “Boy” written on three sides. It is poignant and perhaps sarcastic. Are black men no longer called boys. I hope so. The image tells us that this elderly man certainly was. Taylor’s portraits are full of empathy for the sitter, as we see here.Carefully observed details of the man’s clothing tell us a lot about him
Here are the Obamas (2020)
and David Hammons selling snowballs in Africa. (2016) based on a performance Hammons did in NYC. Note the subtle references to Christmas
i’m yours” (2015)
I’m yours provides three generations of a family, each with a different expression, but all engaging the artist directly: one is resigned, one is angry and one is questioning.
Resting is a portrait of some of his familly, and their informal engagement with the artist suggests a relaxation, but behind them a third figure lies, is he sleeping, is he dead? We don’t know. 
Resting 2011
“the times thay aint a changing, fast enough!” (2017), (Philandro Castile)
There is a shock in this painting, as we look at the wide flat areas of paint that send our eyes to Philandro, then we see the gun.
One of the show stopping installations was an homage to the Black Panthers. We could really experience their potency as we interacted with the mass of manniquins in leather jackets and the photographs of Panthers.
Untitled, 2022 Black Panthers Mannequins, leather jackets, and posters Dimensions variable Collection of the artist and Hauser & Wirth
. 
Another powerful experience is the improvisational drawing in the so-called window lounge. Roberta Smith described it well:
“Using an image of Djenné’s Great Mosque, it loosely delineates the forced journey of many Africans from their homeland to a Southern plantation. Then comes the Great Migration that began after World War I. Passing reference is made (in an alluring little landscape) to “Big Momma’s House” in Naples, Texas, from which Taylor’s parents migrated to Oxnard, Calif., in the 1950s. The finale is Chicago and Whitney Houston as a large presiding angel. Here, dashed-off, stream-of-consciousness is perfect. It’s part of a history that all Americans should know by heart.” (NYT, October 18)
detail Whitney Houston
In one gallery we see this strange tree. What is it about? Trees always lead to thinking about lynching, but here the tree is completely without branches. It has an ominous presence that can suggest a guardian, or a disguise, or a place of confinement.
Most of the exhibition consists of portraits of his friends and family, created with empathy. He captures an everyday event and suggests its ordinariness as well as its grandeur.
the dress, ain’t me, 2011 Acrylic on canvas 84 1/4 × 72 in. (214 × 182.9 cm) Private collection; courtesy Irena Hochman Fine Art Ltd.
Taylor gives us intimacy. His parents migrated from East Texas to Southern California during the Black Migration of World War II, Taylor grew up in Los Angeles. When he went to art school he worked at Camarillo State Mental Hospital, from 1984 to 1995, making portraits of the people he met. 19 of those portraits are included here, suggesting his empathy for the patients.
“Henry Taylor: B Side” includes sports stars and political stars as well as ordinary people. But the stars look approachable and the ordinary people look like stars.
Untitled, (Obamas) 2020
Also at the Whitney is “Ruth Asawa:Through Line”
Ruth Asawa as a Japanese American was interned during World War II, but she had the incredible luck to be with artists that taught her a great deal—- specifically animators from the Walt Disney Studios, who taught art in Rohwer Relocation Center in the Southeast corner of Arkansas. She was fortunate also in being allowed to leave to go to school. In 1946 she attended the avant-garde Black Mountain College
At that time she began creating what became her famous looped wire sculptures, a technique she learned in Mexico. Here we see one example of her sculpture from the Whitney Museum exhibit “Ruth Asawa Through Line”. This piece has a long title:
Hanging Six-Lobed, Complex Interlocking
Continuous Form within a Form with Two
Interior Spheres, 1955 (refabricated
1957–58). Brass and steel wire
The main theme of the exhibition is her extraordinay drawings, using line. Of course the sculpture above also consists of line, but as we experience her varied media and line, it enriches our understanding of her sculpture as well. Here are two unusual pieces.
Untitled (S.003, Freestanding Reversible Undulating Form), 1998 Bronze Private collection
Untitled (SD.254, Tied-Wire Sculpture Drawing with Six Petals in Center), c. late 1960s Tin 32 ¾ x 32 ¾ x ¼ in. (83.2 x 83.2 x 0.6 cm) Private collection
The exhibition is full of notebook sketches that reveal her deep exploration of growing patterns in nature, such as we see here executed in tin.
We feel a whole new insight into line as she creates in so many different materials.
At the New York Historical Society Kay Walkingstick Hudson River School created a thrilling series of paintings overlaying historical American landscape paintings with native signs, reoccupying the land
What we see are brilliant paintings of landscape and seascape and in the foreground are emblems of native tribes as though protecting the land.
Aquidneck after the Storm 2022 oil on panel in two parts, Colleection of Charlotte and Herbert S. Wagner III
Wampanoag Coast, Variation II, 2018 oil on panel Collection of Agnes Hse, PhD and Oscar Tang
Thom Where are the Pocumtucks2020
As in Thomas Cole ‘s famous painting of t he Oxbow
You can see her overlay more clearly here
Niagara 2022
overlay with Haudenosaunee pattern
Farewell to the Smokies Trail of Tears 2007 oil paint on wood panel,Denver Art Museum
About this painting the artist wrote:
“Its about the traumatic experience of leaving home- leaving this beautiful home”.
From the catalog by Wendy Nalani E. Idemoto:
” the Cherokee painter felt the pull of her ancestral land the first time she drove through the present day Carolinas and tennessee. Ghostly silhuetts march across her seeking mountainscape, referencing the forced eviction of her people from their homelands in the 1830s along the Trail of Tears.
This entry was posted on January 7, 2024 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Linda Okazaki: Into the Light
Retrospective Exhibition to February 25, 2024
Bainbridge Island Museum of Art
Dazzling color paired with emotional depth and brilliant handling of the watercolor medium strike us right away in Linda Okazaki’s paintings in her retrospective exhibition at the Bainbridge Museum of Art.
Okazaki has lived in Port Townsend for decades, and before that she lived in Eastern Washington, attending Washington State University for two degrees and then joining the faculty there in the 1970s. She was part of an informal group of faculty and graduate students, a relaxed connection because of the isolation of Pullman. I can remember when I was on the faculty there in the late 1980s (long after Linda Okazaki had left) the rural setting affected the artists in unusual ways. We had parties to look at the stars, bonfires for the fourth of July, and still plenty of time to work. The artists often engaged with the unique landscape, its stillness, its creatures, its odd palimpsests of earlier times.
Gaylen Hanson, by my time retired and painting full time in the tiny town of Palouse, was one of Okazaki’s professors. Near the beginning of the exhibition is a “studio conversation” of Gaylen and Vincent Van Gogh. We see Hanson’s presence in her art in the benevolent animals and birds that fill her paintings.
But her birds multiply and congregate and disperse as in the wonderful recent painting, Birds Take Flight into Twilight, 2023. We see twenty different species of birds, each carefully observed, in a landscape filled with a rainbow of colors.
Another inspiration was the Bay Area artist Joan Brown, who also pursued a personal vocabulary of self portraits, dancing and swimming, in a fantasy world.
Also important to her was the anguished imagery of Frida Kahlo, as we see in Letter to Frida, 1985.
The exhibition has numerous themes, but they are not clustered together; rather Curator Greg Robinson, in collaboration with the artist, conducts a symphony of phrases that build on one another, and repeat, each with a new variation. The themes given are “Personal Narrative, Domesticity and Nature Morte, Dream Logic, The Mother Wound, Landscape and Waterscape, Music, Song, and Theater, The Briarcliff series, and Birds.
My own response is that water is the dominant subject that encompasses all the others. First, there is the transparency of watercolor which conveys many moods. At the outset of the exhibition, we see Evening Departure, 1980. The sea (Puget Sound) swirls around the boat, as the artist, accompanied by her dog, is held in the arms of a large wolf. The embrace is tender, but the image suggests anxiety. This represents on one level her departure from many years in Eastern Washington to live in Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula.
But on another level, we can sense her fear of starting over in an entirely new environment through the imaginary, but gentle embrace of a wolf.
In River Story Return, 1989, the artist now depicts herself nude in the water, carrying a raven and reaching for the shore as a glass vessel floats toward her and a person in a red and black striped robe fails to connect to her. Desperation is palpable, expressed through the color, textures, and images.
Crypt Swimmers heightens the sense of danger as several figures swim among heavy columns and arches.
When Okazaki was six, her mother was murdered by a stalker who then committed suicide. For the first time, the artist is showing several works that refer to this trauma, each more explicit than the last. The earliest is a pencil drawing made while in art school, but later large watercolors confront this painful subject with a courageous directness.
Not surprisingly then, the overall sensation of the exhibition is one of unease, everything is off kilter, filled with undecipherable metaphors, particularly in the still life paintings of tables set vertically against the picture plane and filled with odd objects as in Leaving the Table (above)
Much of the imagery is from dreams, dreams that suggest struggles to just find a firm footing. as in Music is the Muse ( left) and Fire Inside the Heart ( right)
It It is timely that the exhibition “Hokusai Inspiration and Influence” is at the Seattle Art Museum: Hokusai was a master of painting water. The artist clearly has an affinity with him.
But I will end where I began with the dazzling color: Okazaki immersed herself in a study of Goethe’s color theory and then made her own color charts in order to exactly convey the emotions that she wanted to express. So seeing these paintings through color first gives us a feeling of comfort and sometimes joy, even as the paintings themselves take us on a fantastic adventure.
Below is Hunger Artist, Pond with Old Spirits and Dream at Salt Creek for those who make artifact.
This entry was posted on December 23, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
This holiday be sure to make time to go to the Seattle Art Museum to see “Hokusai Inspiration and Influence” (to January 21) and “Calder: in Motion, The Shirley Family Collection” (to Aug 4, 2024.) Both expand our understanding of these two famous artists. In “Hokusai” we see the larger context of his work possible because this exhibition comes from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, a pioneer collector of Japanese woodblock prints. The Calder is a delightful exploration, the first in a series based on the wonderful gift of forty-five works by Calder by Jon and Kim Shirley.
Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849) is familiar to all of us for his Great Wave also known as “Under the Wave of Kanagama” part of his Thirty-Six Views of Mt Fuji. It depicts three fish delivery boats caught up in a huge wave (had you noticed there are three boats in the wave?)
Thirty-Six Views of Mt Fuji (1830 -31) was immediately popular. The exhibition demonstrates that artists from then to now have been inspired by it. Hokusai moved beyond the traditional scope of ukiyo-e prints that present Kabuki actors and women dressed in beautiful clothes (his teacher Katsukawa Shunsho’s specialty). Ukiyo-e means “pictures of the floating world,” and that world was the well-off educated urban middle class of Edo, Japan (1615-1868). Hokusai expanded those subjects to include landscape, folk tales, history, and literature.
The exhibition includes his teachers, his pupils and others who were inspired by Hokusai.
Wave(2006), a seven foot intaglio print by Peter Soriano, suggests we are inside the wave with its vertical thrust of water that breaks at the top.
One unusual series is One Hundred Ghost Stories (Hyaku monogatari). The most famous, The Ghost of Oiwa (Oiwa-san) has a strange distorted face on a lamp. According to the catalog:
“A man killed his wife in order to marry the rich girl next door, using a poison that caused poor Oiwa to become disfigured before she died. Her ghost returned to torment the killer by possessing everyday objects, such as the lantern that takes on the distorted shape of her dying face. “
“Calder: in Motion” ranges from large complex hanging mobiles to tiny wire sculptures of animals. I was amazed at the astonishing skill involved in putting these works together. How did Calder get them to balance? How did he decide how to attach the different parts, what colors work? But above all you see the playful humor of Calder, a perfect exhibition for these depressing times.
My favorite work by Calder is still his wonderful circus. I saw it at the Whitney many years ago, along with a movie of Calder manipulating the tiny wire animals. It came out of 1920s Paris, that exuberant period of experimentation in all the arts. Calder set it up in living rooms and the celebrity artists of the time came for the evening watching him bring the little circus alive; he even had music.
In this exhibition we see a set of seven prints of the circus performers that remind us of this playful, experimental era.
I also loved the Bird, the Rat, and the Cow, created out of wire and found materials. Calder’s ability to capture the nuances of moving animal forms in just a few lines, or pieces of wire, is the result of making hundreds of quick linear drawings at the Bronx Zoo in the 1920s.
Calder works from very small to very large. Space itself was a primary material for him, and we have to look up and down and sideways to fully experience his inventive work.
Although using different media in different eras, both Hokusai and Calder are about motion, scale and perspective. Hokusai pioneered a landscape art that included great changes in scale (he was familiar with European linear perspective; although his overall image size was small, we perceive vast distances. His other focus was moving water of which he was a master.
In the 1930s Calder began to create mobiles that are thought of as abstract. He also began to make monumental stabiles that shape space but touch the ground like Eagle in the Olympic Sculpture Park.
Given this title, I like to think animals are lurking behind all the abstract forms.
Expand your sense of space as you visit these two shows!
This entry was posted on December 22, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Indigenous Artists and Climate Change
National Nordic Museum, 2655 NW Market St 98107, ph: 206.789.5707 Hours: Tues-Sun 10am-5pm; Admission: varies by age, see website; FREE on first Thursdays
Sorry it ended on Nov 26.
“Arctic Highways” by Meryl McMaster (b. 1988) What Will I Say to the Sky and the Earth II, 2019 (in the series “As immense as the Sky”) Print on aluminum
Finally, museums are offering us exhibitions that directly address climate change. “Arctic Highways” at the National Nordic Museum, until November 26, features twelve Indigenous artists from the circumpolar North (Sápmi, Canada, and Alaska) who address “the silent and the silenced knowledge” of their Sámi culture. The Museum of History and Industry ( MOHAI), until March 3, 2024 , features an interactive exhibition “Roots of Wisdom: Native Knowledge, Shared Science” developed by the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. Entirely interactive, it reaches out specifically to ages 12 – 14, but anyone can enjoy it.
“Arctic Highways” emphasizes common themes and shared concerns among Nordic cultures, beyond the artificial borders of nations. It began as an artist residency in Granö, Sweden and has now grown into a traveling exhibition and a book. The artists boldly experiment with a wide range of media, from traditional crafts to video art.
The idea of “arctic highways” creates connections between cultures: “Highways that are cultural and spiritual, real and thriving – but as invisible as the system of national borders that have imposed their rigidness and weight upon us, pitilessly trying to nullify the free flow of ideas and identity connecting our souls.” (museum label)
Several of the artists are from traditional reindeer herding families. They are acutely aware of the changes caused by warming weather, as well as alternative sources of energy filling open space. Wind turbines severely disrupt the grazing land of reindeer and melting snow alters migration and herding rhythms.
Maureen Gruben (b. 1963), Aidainnaqduanni, Aurora, 2020. Print on aluminum
Maureen Gruber’s striking photograph of three polar bear skins hanging on an abandoned survey tripod, looks like polar bears are climbing the tripods, then it becomes frighteningly clear that they are only skins.
Perhaps the most dramatic photograph in the exhibition is Meryl McMaster’s What Will I Say to the Sky and the Earth II, 2019 (in the series “As Immense as the Sky”): the artist stands against an Arctic landscape, wearing a protective coat with insects embedded. She states “Among the coastal ice flows of Lake Erie, I am covered by various insect species—members of a poorly understood and very important class of lifeforms. There are millions of insect species that are unknown to us but play an important role in maintaining ecological equilibrium. To me they represent the fragile, harmonious balance that we are a part of and that we must take care to protect. Their silence is a warning that we are falling into a disharmonious condition.”
Works by Sonya Kelliher-Combs and Tomas Colbengston address the subject of Church boarding schools in Alaska and Sweden that stripped children of their Indigenous Sámi culture. Kelliher-Combs’s Credible, Small Secrets, consists of 35 finger sized sculptures referencing abuse with human hair, nylon thread, glass beads, and steel pins. Each one refers to a village with credible reports of abuse. Colbengston’s painting is based on a photograph of a boarding school with the children lined up in front.
These artists of the polar North witness change every day, as ice melts, temperatures rise, and animals and humans must change centuries old habits. The show is poignant, but also triumphant because the artists are both witnessing and resisting change.
“Roots of Wisdom: Native Knowledge, Shared Science” Building a Healthy River courtesy of the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.
MOHAI, 860 Terry Ave N 98109, ph: 206.324.1126 Hours: Tues-Sun 10am–5pm; Admission varies by age see website; FREE First Thursdays 5-8pm
Down on Lake Union at MOHAI “Roots of Wisdom: Native Knowledge, Shared Science” features interactive displays, created in consultation with contemporary tribal members. Each display highlights a different theme and tribe: “Reestablishing a Native Plant” (Eastern Band of Cherokees), “Restoring Fishponds,” (Hawaii), “Rediscovering Traditional Foods,” (Tulalip) and “Saving Streams and Wildlife” (Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation). We can learn how to build a fishpond in Hawaii and or help preserve an ancient fish. The Lamprey, less glamorous than salmon, also suffer from the dams on the Columbia River. We can restore a river or learn why cane is better than grass near a river. We can weave a basket as we listen to traditional elders speak about caring for the land.
The MOHAI exhibit makes each pairing of contemporary science and indigenous knowledge easy to remember. Most striking perhaps was the section on “biopiracy” in which the question of patenting seeds is raised, a big issue in today’s world. “Native Origins” suggests all the everyday products we use, like popcorn, that originally were created by Indigenous peoples.
We are fortunate to have both of these shows featuring Indigenous creative ideas that suggest a few ways to survive on the planet.
Another interesting exhibit:
M Rosetta Hunter Gallery at Seattle Community College, 1701 Broadway (inside the building) Hours: Mon-Thur 10am-3pm
This Fall at the M. Rosetta Hunter Gallery at Seattle Central College, the exhibition “Lush Computation” explores digital and algorithmic aesthetics. September 26–November 16, 2023. Curated by the exciting artist and director of the gallery, Meghan Trainor, “Lush Computation” explores the idea of resisting AI as these artists manipulate digital aesthetics, rather than using AI generated ideas.
This entry was posted on November 25, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
From last spring, I forgot to post.
Contemporary cross by Gerry Judah who was born in Calcutta and moved to London when he was ten.
The imagery suggests cities falling apart, catastrophes.
St. Paul also had a lot of statues to colonial leaders with accomplishments like “reduction of French West Indies” meaning taking them over I think.
Statue to a young captain who died at sea in the battle in Burma
A large area behind the altar dedicated to Americans who died in World War II
These strange plaques and signs about the Indian Army and all the places they fought for the British.
Personal Experiences
Teens from Botswana on a field trip to London
I am holding a large Ukrainian cupcake given me by these two women, Julia and Natalia, whom we met walking along the Thames.
They are coming to the end of their supported situation in UK and wondering what they will do next. Both have families here, children, parents, not their husbands.
We also toured the Globe Theater, for which Shakespeare wrote his
plays.
It was rebuilt in the late 20th century funded by Sam Wanamaker.
It has perfect acoustics, no artificial lighting, the audience is visible to the actors which scares the actors ( not the audience)
The people standing in the middle drank beer and urinated creating a stench, so the people in the boxes rubbed oranges on themselves and then threw them at the people below.
The lobby of the Globe “We are such stuff As dreams are made on” The Tempest
This entry was posted on and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Laila Susanna Kuhmunen When Two Become One Installation with kolt traditional clothing, 2019
Finally, museums are offering us exhibitions that directly address climate change. “Arctic Highways” at the National Nordic Museum, until November 26, features twelve Indigenous artists from the circumpolar North (Sápmi, Canada, and Alaska) who address “the silent and the silenced knowledge” of their Sámi culture.
Laila Susanna Kuhmunen opens the show with her installation of a traditional kolt garment, formerly for work, not festive.
In the background is a seasonal celebration with fabrics Mátki Sámi ja Sámi áigodagaid čađa (The Roadtrip through Sápmi and the Sámi seasons) by Gudrun Guttorm. She is editor, together with Harald Gaski and Katya Garcia Antón, of Let the River Flow. An Indigenous Uprising and its Legacy in Art, Ecology and Politics (Office for Contemporary Art Norway/Valiz Amsterdam, 2020).”Let the River Flow’ takes the eco-indigenous action against the construction of a hydroelectric power plant in the Altaelva river in Northern Norway during the late 1970s and early ’80s as its starting point. The series of massive protests led by the Sámi people grew into an unexpectedly broad movement of solidarity across society, in which artists played a pivotal role.
This book reflects on events at the time and their correlations with artists’ eco-actions worldwide today. It addresses the political, cultural, and artistic aspects, including political organising, new influences of indigenous thinking on contemporary politics, and the centrality of artists within these activities.”
“Despite their protests, the Norwegian Supreme Court ruled in 1982 that the government had the right to construct the dam and power station, and the project was completed in 1987”
Laila Susanna Kuhmunen Steingiisá (Stone chest) Installation, stone, 2016
Laila Susanna Kuhmunen’s second work is a compelling stone sculpture from which a small polished chest emerges.
Máret Ánne Sara (below) comes from a reindeer-herding family in Kautokeino, Northern Norway, and currently works in her hometown. Sara’s work deals with the political and social issues affecting the Sámi communities in general, and the reindeer-herding communities in particular.”
But she is also involved with the international art community and showed in Documenta 14 in 2017 and will part of the Nordic Pavillion in Venice next year, which will now be a Sámi pavillion
Máret Ánne Sara (foreground) Moder Jord I (Mother Earth I) Sculpture made from a globe and scooter spring, 2015 Crowned by Foreign Fate (Background)
Máret Ánne Sara (detail)
“Arctic Highways” emphasizes common themes and shared concerns among Nordic cultures, beyond the artificial borders of nations. It began as an artist residency in Granö, Sweden and has now grown into a traveling exhibition and a book. The artists boldly experiment with a wide range of media, from traditional crafts to video art.
The idea of “arctic highways” creates connections between cultures: “Highways that are cultural and spiritual, real and thriving – but as invisible as the system of national borders that have imposed their rigidness and weight upon us, pitilessly trying to nullify the free flow of ideas and identity connecting our souls.” ( museum label)
Artists are from traditional reindeer herding families. They are acutely aware of the changes caused by warming weather, as well as alternative sources of energy filling open space. Wind turbines severely disrupt the grazing land of reindeer and melting snow alters migration and herding rhythms.
Aidainnaqduammi, Aurora Photo by Kyra Kordoski, print on aluminium
Maureen Gruber’s striking photographs of three polar bear skins titled Aidainnaqduanni (Inuvialuktun for ‘We are finally home’ ), Aurora, hanging on an abandoned survey tripod, looks like polar bears are climbing the tripods, then it becomes frighteningly clear that they are only skins. Her work here includes harp seal skin, red velvet, thread. She also works with “polar bear fur, beluga intestines and seal skins together with resins, vinyl, bubble wrap and metallic tape,” connecting the Arctic to ecological concerns.
“Throughout a week-long installation during winter freeze-up, sea ice gradually accumulated around the base of these assemblages, shifting the bears’ positions such that their gaze slowly tilted up towards the stars.”
detail of Seal in Our Blood
Maureen Gruben Seal in our Blood
Perhaps the most dramatic photograph in the exhibition is Meryl McMaster’s What Will I Say to the Sky and the Earth II, 2019 (in the series “As Immense as the Sky”):
The artist stands against an Arctic landscape, wearing a protective coat with insects embedded. She states “Among the coastal ice flows of Lake Erie, I am covered by various insect species – members of a poorly understood and very important class of lifeforms. There are millions of insect species that are unknown to us, but play an important role in maintaining ecological equilibrium. To me they represent the fragile, harmonious balance that we are a part of and that we must take care to protect. Their silence is a warning that we are falling into a disharmonious condition.”
Tomas Colbengtson, Sápmi and Defaced
Tomas Colbengtson,Residential School
Works by Sonya Kelliher-Combs and Tomas Colbengtson address the subject of Church boarding schools in Alaska and Sweden that stripped children of their Indigenous Sámi culture. Colbengston featured in a previous exhibition at the Nordic Museum, Mygration, in whcih he collaborated with to create a moving installation about a strange project to bring reindeer and their herders to Alaska from what was then called Lapland.
https://www.artandpoliticsnow.com/2022/12/mygration/
Sonya Kelliher-Combs’s Credible, Small Secrets, consists of 35 finger sized sculptures referencing abuse with human hair, nylon thread, glass beads, and steel pins. Each one refers to a village with credible reports of abuse. Colbengston’s painting is based on a photograph of a boarding school with the children lined up in front.
Laila Susanna Kuhmunen When Two Become One Installation with kolt traditional clothing, 2019
These artists of the polar North witness changes every day, as ice melts, temperatures rise, and animals and humans must change centuries old habits. The show is poignant, but also triumphant because the artists are both witnessing and resisting change.
*****************************************************
The Museum of History and Industry ( MOHAI), on Lake Union features an interactive exhibition “Roots of Wisdom : Native Knowledge, Shared Science” developed by the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. Entirely interactive, it reaches out specifically to ages 12 – 14, but anyone can enjoy it.
“Each display highlights a different theme and tribe: “Reestablishing a Native Plant” (Eastern Band of Cherokees), “Restoring Fish Ponds,” (Hawaii), “Rediscovering Traditional Foods,” (Tulalip) and “Saving Streams and Wildlife”( Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation).
We can learn how to build a fish pond in Hawaii and or help preserve an ancient fish. The Lamprey, ( on the right) less glamorous than salmon, also suffer from the dams on the Columbia River. We can restore a river or learn why cane is better than grass near a river. We can weave a basket as we listen to traditional elders speak about caring for the land.
The MOHAI exhibit makes each pairing of contemporary science and indigenous knowledge easy to remember. Most striking perhaps was the section on “biopiracy” in which the question of patenting seeds is raised, a big issue in today’s world.
“Native Origins” suggests all the everyday products we use, like popcorn, that originally were created by Indigenous peoples.
We are fortunate to have both of these shows featuring Indigenous creative ideas that suggest a few ways to survive on the planet.
This entry was posted on October 23, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Dhyana Garcia’s pre show Butoh event outside King Street Station
Tatiana Garmendia (IMG is movie) La Boveda: My Mother’s Kitchen IMG_3555
Dhyana Garcia Victoria@ King Street Station. THis was a long piece and she constantly metamorphosed.
Xavier Lopex and Katherine Adamenko
Soft Cyborg meets the Beauty Borg
crazy costumes
Katherine Adamenko had a second piece called Shocked. I couldn’t photograph it, basically it was about having a shock treatment. She did a brilliant job of enacting that experience, but it was too much for me.
Sonia Aguilar Mourning Pomegrantes A Veiled symphony
If you look closely you will see she has arrows in her body. This piece ranged from lyrical to agonized.
Santiago Vega performing on colonization
Last Friday, a type of performance/workshop with
Men in Dance, five choreographers. This was right before they started. Each one created a dramatic contrast of emotions. The man on the far right in the white shirt is a friend of mine, Bryon Carrr
Next to him is CHris Bell from New York, then in the background with long hair is Jet DogDog,(Long Branch California), Will Jessup and Bnjamin Defaria ( Vancouver BC) and Jameel Hendricks (Philadelphia) . the woman standing on the right was one of the three panelists who offered feedback on the performance.
Next was Indigenous People’s Day a rally and march down
fifth avenue, celebrating and honoring elders.
There were tribes from all over, from Alaska to Mexico and many parts of the US. Where it says img with a number is a link to a movie.
IMG_3606 
IMG_3609 
IMG_3620 IMG_3621 
This entry was posted on October 14, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
Memorials for Gail Tremblay (1945 – 2023), Alfredo Arreguín, (1935 – 2023)
This summer we had memorials for two special artists, both deeply concerned about our planet: Gail Tremblay, Native American poet and multimedia artist, and Alfredo Arreguín, Mexican and American painter. Gail Tremblay was a close friend for many years, I only met Alfredo once when I interviewed him for an article. The memorials were equally moving, although approached in different ways. In each case, I learned a great deal about the artists.
Gail Tremblay, of Mi’kmaq and Onondaga descent, was a long time professor at The Evergreen State College. The memorial took place at the House of Welcome Cultural Arts Center on the college campus. We heard about her huge role at Evergreen since the 1980s in creating a Native arts program, as well as mentoring students of all backgrounds. Called an “Artistic and Teaching Retrospective” it included testimonials to her importance as an educator, readings of her poetry, and a celebration of her art career.
I knew Gail mainly as a poet and a visual artist who addressed difficult topics in original mixed media formats.
The last time I talked to her, she read me some of her new poetry on the phone. What a wonderful experience. She was still writing in spite of many physical issues.
I have written about her art work for many years, as well as reviewing group exhibitions that she curated such as “Voices of Water” and “Not Vanishing. Contemporary Expressions in Visual Art.” Her striking installations addressed ecological disasters such as cancer from pollution at Hanford- “It is Heavy on My Heart,”
– and the loss of salmon-“Empty Fish Trap.”
She incorporated recorded narratives, video, photographs, and poetry into her installations.
She was best known for her film baskets woven from 35 mm film addressing the racism of Hollywood.
As I wrote in 2003:
“Gail Tremblay weaves our spirits into these artworks and takes us on a journey with her extraordinary technical ability, her words, her deep caring for the earth, and her sense of humor. On the journey we enter small worlds and large worlds, the outer universe and the inner universe. She hopes that we end up caring about all of it as much as she does.”
The memorial for Alfredo Arreguín on Whidbey Island at the Schouten Gallery featured an exhibition of his works in the gallery that surrounded us with his brilliant invocations of nature.
Arreguin started exploring the theme of Frida Kahlo many years ago, before she was a household name.
Arreguín’s painting is extraordinarily detailed, it includes layers of intricate patterns with faces emerging from them, or birds and monkeys immersed in deep jungle scenes.
I took this photograph when I visited him for an article for South Seattle Emerald. they wanted too much rewriting, so I posted it on my blog instead.https://www.artandpoliticsnow.com/2019/08/a-visit-to-the-home-of-alfredo-arreguin-and-susan-lytle-june-2019/
I also included in my book, Setting Our Hearts on Fire.
While he talked to me, he turned around from time to time and added a dot to the painting. Here is a detail.
Arreguín’s paintings both celebrate and grieve for the loss of our rich biodiversity. As he stated, “We are the most dangerous animals on the planet.”
The next day the memorial featured informal statements by close friends in the garden of the gallery. The event was led by eminent poet Tess Gallagher. She and her husband, writer Raymond Carver (1938-88), were dear friends of Alfredo and Susan Lytle. Gallagher read “Reaching” a poem she wrote for him when he gave her the painting Green- Eyed Poet.
Lauro Flores, chair and professor of Ethnic Studies at the University of Washington and author of Alfredo Arreguín Patterns of Dreams and Nature spoke eloquently. Jeff Day, sculptor, and long time personal friend of Alfredo and Susan spoke about the Blue Moon Café, that famous bar in the UDistrict where many of Alfredo’s friends first met.
Both memorials honored the artists through the invocation of their lives and creativity. But what came across most clearly for both Alfredo Arreguín and Gail Tremblay was their vivid spirits, generous friendships, and extraordinary originality as creative people.
Arreguín painted leaping orcas in Puget Sound in several versions. Shortly after Arreguín’s memorial we heard of the death of Tokitae, an Orca captured on August 8, 1970 in Penn Cove, Whidbey Island the only survivor of hundreds captured. She spent her life in a small tank at the Miami Seaquarium. After many years of effort, she was about to be returned to her home pod in the Northwest.
Tragically, immediately after her death, the decision was made by the Aquarium to have Tokitae undergo an autopsy, so her body has been cut up. This is an additional shock to the Lummi since they weren’t consulted.
Now the Lummi have decided to cremate the remains and bring the ashes back home.
This entry was posted on August 28, 2023 and is filed under
Uncategorized.
