To the left is Hummingbird Copper Dress, 1989 by Dorothy Grant (Haida) with Robert Davidson (Haida/Tlingit) at the Renwick Gallery/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Marie Watt, Seneca Nation of Indians, Blanket Stories: Three Sisters, Four Pelts, Sky Woman, Cousin Rose, and All My Relations, 2007, Seattle Art Museum, General Acquisition Fund,in honor of the 75th anniversary of the Seattle Art Museum, at the Frist Art Museum/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Navajo artist, Second phase chief blanket, c. 1880, Minneapolis Institute of Art, Gift of Elissa and Paul Cahn, These blankets are valued today about as much as they were by the Navajo nation in the late 19th centuryl. They were often worn by chiefs and their wives/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Label copy at the Renwick (this photo taken at the Frist) said Jamie Okuma began making "extravagant attire in which to attend powwows" leading to her " successful career creating wearable art." Her heels are her "way of reimaging Native couture." She planned a career in the fashion industry but her success as a beadworker took her in a different direction/Photo by Patricia Leslie
From the label copy: "Elk-tooth dresses like this one are important symbols of prestige for Apsáalooke women. Because they can have as many as 500 elk teeth meticulously sewn into the bodice, and because the maker only uses the two canine teeth of the bull elk, a dress like this reflects not only a woman’s sewing skills, but, as importantly, her male family members’ hunting prowess. Today, few elk-tooth dresses are made entirely from real teeth—there are acceptable commercial substitutions—but the dress endures as an object of significance and cultural pride."/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Detail of Jolene Richard, Tuscarora, b. 1956 ...the sky is darkening ..., 2018, courtesy of the artist with special thanks to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Tuscarora women made beadwork of passenger pigeons which were hunted to extinction by1902, according to the label copy. Beadwork by Tuscarora women helped them survive when they were forced to leave their homes in North Carolina in the early 18th century/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Apsaalooke (Crow), Infant Boy's Coat, c. 1890, buckskin, cloth, glass beads, sinew, Denver Museum of Nature and Science. At the Frist/Photo by Patricia Leslie
The artists pay tribute to Pocahontas, drawing inspiration from 17th century engravings by Simon van de Passe and Thomas Sully’s classic 1852 painting,
Anita Fields, Osage, b. 1951, with her coat entitled It's In Our DNA, It's Who We Are, 2018, Minneapolis Institute of Art. At the Renwick Gallery, Feb. 20, 2020. Printed inside the coat is the Treaty of 1808 when the Osage Indians ceded almost 2.5 million acres including the state of Arkansas and almost all of Missouri to the U.S. government for cash/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Anita Fields, Osage, b. 1951, It's In Our DNA, It's Who We Are, 2018, Minneapolis Institute of Art, at the Frist Art Museum/Photo by Patricia Leslie
From the label copy: "Women’s Voices at the Council, part of a series that Joan Hill began in 1971 during the Vietnam War (1965–75), depicts multiple generations of Native women and the power they hold to decide between war and peace. Hill focuses attention on essential elements of women’s regalia including turtle shell leggings, and she presents Muskogee/Cherokee cultural aesthetics, symbols, and meanings. She juxtaposes the white background, a Cherokee symbol of peace, with a red disk, possibly symbolizing a threat of war."
This was my second favorite of the show. The contrasts, the colors, the mixture of generations, their positions, the silhouettes, and the solemnity of the time. While the women discuss, the men (to the left) prepare to battle. Leave it to the women to bring peace!
Four of the artists at the Renwick Gallery, Feb. 20, 2020. In the white shirt is Anita Fields and to her left is Kelly Church/Photo by Patricia Leslie
Kelly Church (Ottawa/Pottawatomi) with her Sustaining Traditions—Digital Memories, 2018, at the Renwick, Feb. 20, 2020. Black ash, sweetgrass, Rit dye, copper, vial EAB, and flash drive with black ash teachings/Photo by Patricia Leslie
According to the label copy: "The green in this basket represents the emerald ash borer. This beautiful insect has destroyed ash trees, essential to making ash baskets, throughout the Upper Midwest. Placed within this basket, which is shaped like a Fabergé egg is a flash drive containing what Kelly Church describes as 'all the teachings of the past, all of the things happening today, and all of the things we need to do in the future to sustain this tradition [basket weaving].'”
Zoe Urness, Tlingit, b. 1984, December 5, 2016, No Spiritual Surrender, 2016, courtesy of the artist. Near a campsite at Standing Rock Reservation in the Dakotas. Thousands from around the world gathered to protest the Dakota Pipeline designed to carry oil but a threat to lives, damaging water supplies. Although the temperature that day "had hit forty below," the artist says on the label, "I had the camera under my armpit to keep the batteries warm. I watched this gathering of veterans of military service, from all over the nation, approaching." She moved quickly to take "a one-arm shot."
Rather than a photograph, this looks like a still from a horror movie. The reds, the blacks, the greys and whites combine with nature.to deliver a powerful message. My Number One Favorite in the show. It is a knockout, summoning up all the power of the protestors who march towards the viewer and summon: "Join us! We shall overcome!" At the Frist.
I was lucky enough to be able to see this intriguing and wide-ranging exhibition, the first major museum exhibition devoted to art by Native Women in two cities, in Nashville at the Frist Art Museum at Christmas, and in Washington at the Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery in February before coronavirus closed the show early.
I was lucky enough to be able to see this intriguing and wide-ranging exhibition, the first major museum exhibition devoted to art by Native Women in two cities, in Nashville at the Frist Art Museum at Christmas, and in Washington at the Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery in February before coronavirus closed the show early.
Most of the pieces shown here were displayed at both museums, but the larger galleries at the Frist (it included 115 pieces; the Renwick, 82) permitted more displays of textiles, baskets, beadwork, pottery, painting, sculpture, video, apparel, and installation art with a broader visual experience for some.
Works by artists from the U.S. and Canada, from ancient times to present day, were chosen by a curatorial team led by Jill Ahlberg Yohe from the Minneapolis Institute of Art (the organizing institution) and Teri Greeves, a Kowa artist and scholar.
They worked closely with an Exhibition Advisory Board of 20 Native women skilled in mixed media who provided guidance for the show, titled Hearts of Our People: Native Women Artists. It was "a radical shift in curatorial methodology," remarked Ms. Ahlberg at the Washington opening.
It is divided by three themes: legacy, relationships, and power which together present "the unique heritage and culture of various Indian tribes and communities."
Visitors from toddlers on up were fascinated by the extraordinary presentation and differences of what their heritage means to these Native Women.
At the February opening in Washington, Smithsonian American Art Museum Director Stephanie Stebich remarked that the timing of the exhibition in Washington to fall in the centennial celebration when American women got the right to vote was not just a coincidence.
To compare the ways the two museums assembled and displayed the art was fascinating; highly recommended whenever the chance comes along to compare the same exhibition in two different locations.
My impression that many (most?) living artists require their works to be specifically displayed, according to certain measurements and placements in galleries, was changed by this show since placements, heights, and juxtapositions varied from one place to another.
It is a shame, a shame (it bears repeating) that coronavirus will prevent many from seeing this magnificent, inspiring show. The Renwick will just have to bring it back.
My impression that many (most?) living artists require their works to be specifically displayed, according to certain measurements and placements in galleries, was changed by this show since placements, heights, and juxtapositions varied from one place to another.
It is a shame, a shame (it bears repeating) that coronavirus will prevent many from seeing this magnificent, inspiring show. The Renwick will just have to bring it back.
Audio tours with several of the artists are found at the Renwick website.
Most of the labels were multi-lingual with translations in the native language of the artist.
Grants from the Henry Luce Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities made the presentation possible.
A catalog of the exhibition is available for $39.95.
What: Hearts of Our People: Native Women Artists
When: Native Women Artists is set to close at the Renwick May 17, 2020 and likely cannot be extended since it moves to the Philbrook Museum of Art in Tulsa for viewing June 28 – September 20, 2020, The Renwick is closed by coronavirus until July 2, 2020, according to the website. It is usually open from 10 a.m.– 5:30 p.m. every day.
Where: The Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery, 1661 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington, D.C. 20006, at the White House 17th Street block, adjacent to Blair House.
Admission: No charge
Metro stations: Farragut North or Farragut West
For more information: (202) 633-7970 (recorded) or (202) 633-2850
patricialesli@gmail.com
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