In “Thunderbird Memories” and “Boy and a Chair” I have used props from the modern world to show this two-worldliness that generations of Native people have lived in. In “Thunderbird Memories”, a car, considered vintage today, is the modern day horse for my sunglass-wearing subject. And finally, my young Cheyenne boy leans as comfortably on a chair as he is comfortable in his own Cheyenne regalia. Using bold black beaded lines and a canvas of red two-tone silk, I’ve tried to make my Native kid “pop” into the here and now.

This piece is a collaborative effort between my husband and myself. Dennis is Ottawa from the Great Lakes and I am Kiowa from the Southern Plains.

Surrounded by the forests and the lakes, Dennis’ people are woodworkers: canoe makers, basket weavers, bowl makers, etc. He has chosen to work with wood like his grandfather and great-grandfathers before them though he, like all Native peoples today, has access to exotic materials and tools and is influenced by contemporary life.

I come from a long line of beadworkers and like him have chosen to work with the “traditional” beads and hides. Of course, prior to contact with Europeans, we did not have glass beads so for my people at least, it is a new tradition.

For many years I have admired the beautiful floral beadwork of the Great Lakes region. Their use of local plant life so carefully represented on their clothing and objects has always awestruck me. But, as much as I liked their florals, I did not want to appropriate their culture and aesthetics. I have seen too many times Kiowa designs stolen and used incorrectly.

About 15 years ago, I met Dennis, this Ottawa man from the Great Lakes. And 12 years ago we had our first son, Ahbedoh White Eagle. Nine years ago, we had our second son, Nimkees Ankwaad White Eagle. And now, with an Ottawa husband and two Ottawa/Kiowa sons, I feel I have some right to interpret those beautiful Great Lakes beaded florals.

…of course those people up north would look at this piece and just shake their heads wondering what we were thinking with our crazy looking woods and crazy looking beadwork.

Gabrielle d’ Estrees was the mistress of King Henry IV of France. She had a sister, or just perhaps a friend who was a sister, who traveled through life with her. Towards the end of her days, the King gave her his coronation ring and the famous painting of her and her sister in the bathtub, with a servant lady in the background doing chores, was born. “Elk Tooth d’Estrees,” is my indigenized interpretation of this painting. And of course, the Gabrielle of my piece is holding Indian “gold:” an elk tooth.

My grandmother, who was born in a tipi at the end of the Indian Wars, would have never seen Andy Warhol’s “Double Elvis” that hangs in MOMA in New York City, even though it was made long before she passed on. But my mother, a generation later, traveled to MOMA and witnessed this masterpiece of contemporary Americana. And now I have, 2 generations later, tried to look at it through the eyes of a people that have been iconized and popularized and stereotyped in untold numbers of fine art. With all of the racial and cultural politics that Native people embody; with all of the racial and cultural politics that Elvis embodies (he was, after all, Cherokee but rarely mentioned it); and with all of the cultural politics and fame that an Andy Warhol painting embodies, I have chosen to pair one American icon to another. America in a show-down with America.

Many people have commented to me about the blank faces I bead. I’ve always liked the idea of a blank face as it allows the viewer to read into the piece whatever feelings they want to see. Probably one of the most famous pieces of art to have such a mysterious face like this is the Mona Lisa. This not-so-beautiful woman has the knowing look that generations of viewers have tried to understand. It seemed quite appropriate that I pair one of the most famous women on the planet, Mona Lisa, with my version of the knowing and mystery of a Cheyenne woman, as replete in her wool and shell finery as the Mona Lisa is in her velvet and handmade lace.

In “Thunderbird Memories” and “Boy and a Chair” I have used props from the modern world to show this two-worldliness that generations of Native people have lived in. In “Thunderbird Memories”, a car, considered vintage today, is the modern day horse for my sunglass-wearing subject. And finally, my young Cheyenne boy leans as comfortably on a chair as he is comfortable in his own Cheyenne regalia. Using bold black beaded lines and a canvas of red two-tone silk, I’ve tried to make my Native kid “pop” into the here and now.

My grandma was born in a tipi at the end of the Indian Wars in the United States.  She was eventually placed in a Catholic boarding school where her hair was cut short and mouths full of lye soap were doled out for speaking her language.  My grandma made it through 6th grade, having been taught enough Anglo domestic skills to be released into the American workforce.  This was how the country that had swallowed up her peoples viewed her:  unskilled labor from a primitive people with enough Western schooling to read the Bible.

My grandma was an artist.  Not that she ever would call herself that but that is what she was.  She spent most of her adult life making the beautiful objects that defined Kiowa aesthetic, culture, society and history:  objects that are now considered worthy of being in any Native American art collection but at the time were considered crude curios.  Her drive to express herself kept her up beading many a late night after a long hard day of labor.  She continued beading until she couldn’t see and her hands had almost completely given in to arthritis.

By the 1950’s, Suzy Ataumbi Big Eagle was making buckskin dresses.  In 1952, her middle daughter was crowned Kiowa Princess and in 1963, her youngest daughter was crowned Cheyenne Princess.  She made both of her daughters complete outfits, drawing on years of technical skill and tribal knowledge that had nothing to do with those 6 years with the Catholic nuns.  My grandma, a plain woman with large rough hands from years washing dishes and pulling cotton, had two beautiful girls that were recognized by and represented their communities as the epitome of Kiowa and Cheyenne womanhood.  In their honor and with immense pride, she made them their regalia; creations the best couturier in Paris could understand if not in context, at minimum in technical mastery.

I am humbled to be Suzy’s grand-daughter.