Jeffrey Gibson is representing the US at this year’s Venice Biennale, marking the first time the country has staged a solo exhibition by an Indigenous artist. Gibson, who is a member of the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians and is also of Cherokee descent, was born in Colorado and moved frequently growing up, living across the US as well as abroad, including in Germany and South Korea. This international upbringing influenced Gibson’s colourful work, which often incorporates Native American traditions with text, a variety of textiles and concepts like identity and globalism.

How are you approaching the idea of representing the US, given the country’s history of massacres, displacement and racism? How are you thinking about your presentation in relation to that history?

It was very daunting initially. My initial proposal was very different from what I ultimately decided to do. I went to Venice [in 2022] and I realised the kind of weight and pressure of representing the US, and I started thinking about what I felt was important for me to contribute, content-wise, to that.

Ultimately, it came down to looking at my practice and thinking about the things that have been the most impactful with audiences. Some of it is where people see themselves in the work, in particular Native people and Indigenous people. In Native communities, many people refer to their nations, like the Choctaw Nation. Words like “nationhood” and “homeland” become complicated when I’m representing the US. I also had to be really honest with myself that throughout my life growing up abroad, I have identified as American, and then talked about being Native American in places where some people were really unfamiliar with it. I felt like it was my responsibility to just tell my story.

The title of the pavilion is the space in which to place me. Can you share what drew you to this passage from Layli Long Soldier’s poem He Sápa?

I have followed Layli’s work for years now, and it speaks to me on a personal level. She is able to put into words and lay onto a page the internal thoughts I’ve had my whole life. When I was thinking about a title, I knew that I wanted to work with an Indigenous writer.

The text goes, “This is how you see me the space in which to place me/The space in me you see is this place/To see this space see how you place me in you”. That piece does what I try to accomplish with the way that I use text, which is always hoping that people can project themselves and their own stories into it in a way that becomes self-reflective. That’s one of the goals of the pavilion. Although I am Indigenous, I hope that we’re not just looked at as [having] a kind of separate experience, but more as individuals who have experiences that can overlap with people from many different nationalities and many different backgrounds.

What kind of themes does the pavilion explore?

I wanted to start by reading the foundational documents of the US. I started with the Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence, and eventually that led me to things like amendments and proposals that have yet to be passed or may never be passed. You get into individuals who were parts of those movements and statements that they’ve made. There are a little over 20 works in the exhibition. It is a wonderful way for me to walk through history and think about my own family and my own tribes and where they’ve existed in the states of the US and in what periods of history.

What do you think are the hallmarks of a successful national pavilion? Have any in particular stuck with you?

Mike Nelson for the British Pavilion [I, Imposter in 2011]. It was like you were in a weird headspace. You just couldn’t make sense of it. I felt like it was a real, very immersive experience that I wanted to return to. I also remember seeing Félix González-Torres’s installation in the American pavilion [America in 2007]. I’m a huge fan, he’s been a huge influence on me.

I think a strong pavilion for me is when the space is addressed, and it doesn’t feel like we’ve tried to recreate a white box institutional space, and the building itself is sculpturally important. For me, the American pavilion is a fully activated space. This is the building you inherit if you’re going to represent the US.

The American pavilion didn’t come into the Biennale until 1930, so I think it’s interesting that the architecture is very much marked by the period it was commissioned, and that was a very significant period for Native people as well. There are very few things that don’t carry a ton of content with them, including the building itself.

The Circle of Indigenous Students’ Alliance (CISA) presented its Native Art Showcase with live poetry, dancing, music and visual art presentations at an April 12 event. 

CISA, an organization that elevates the voices and culture of Indigenous students on campus, followed the theme Le Emátanhanpi, which in the Lakota language is interpreted as “We Belong Here.” The showcase featured seven performances and four artists and art groups on display, with the performances featuring four poetry readings, one song, one dance and an oratory.

Rachel Two Bulls (CAS ’24), a Lakota student who organized the event, said the thematic emphasis on the concept of belonging comes from the diversity of Indigenous culture and the idea of environmental belonging. 

“CISA and the theme of indigeneity on campus has been really difficult to harness just because of how diverse and spread out we are,” Two Bulls told The Hoya. “I think belonging to the land is something that is big in culture but not necessarily something that is talked about and let alone something that different groups can talk about together and still understand because we’re from different places, but I think once we establish ourselves as belonging to a community, it becomes easier to actually identify with Indigenous groups.”

“Capturing the big picture narrative is what we’re trying to do,” Two Bulls added. 

The showcase, also sponsored through Campus Ministry, ended with a raffle for three winners to receive select pieces of art from the showcase. 

Sophia Monsalvo (CAS ’26), a Colombian African American student who performed at the CISA showcase for the first time, sang “Saber Olvidar,” which in Spanish means “to know forgetting.” She said she chose to join the showcase because of the strong community she has found in CISA and among Indigenous people. 

“I chose to sing tonight in general because I just started getting involved with CISA last year and it was about a really big journey of reconnecting with my own Indigeneity and understanding what that means in the Latin American context,” Monsalvo told The Hoya. “CISA has really helped me find community in that and speak and be able to exist in that.”

“I really love any chance I can get to share my energy and space with people,” Monsalvo added. 

At the showcase, Simone Guité (CAS ’26), a member of the Chinook Nation, shared her oratory titled “Tonto Got His Indian Money” to draw attention to the fact that the Chinook Nation has not yet received permanent federal recognition.

Guité said she created the oratory after a research project in which she examined how her family’s history connects to United States history. 

“I looked at my tribe, so I came in kind of having a really strong foundation and knowing a lot of the nitty-gritty tribal legal cases and dates and events,” Guité told The Hoya. “And so then I thought what better way to share it rather than presenting a big whole paper than my own personal stories and family stories.”

Monsalvo said she chose her showcase song because of its resonances with an experience common among many Indigenous people — channeling hope by remembering the many different parts of their identity.

“I know a lot of that feels like remembering the ancestors and remembering the legacy and life that we still hold within ourselves as Indigenous people,” Monsalvo said. 

Two Bulls said that events like CISA’s showcase help capture the lives of Indigenous people and communities in their own words, something that many Georgetown students may not understand. 

“I think creating spaces like this to talk about something more than struggle, despite how difficult it is for us to splinter and then have to come back together as a group, to look at something about us rather than something about what we’re struggling with,” Two Bulls said. “It is also instilling in us that there is a place amongst others in Georgetown that is for you, in that identity as an Indigenous person.”

Guité said that events like the Native Art Showcase help her and other Indigenous students build community on campus, which she said is not always easily accessible. 

“I think a lot of times there’s obviously not a lot of spaces that are meant for Indigenous people to share their stories and their artwork,” Guité said. “So having this event is a great way for that to happen and a great space to create more community and come together and share our own experiences.”

Here are highlights of the range of work produced by Native artists in the pavilions and a central exhibition that proudly calls itself “Foreigners Everywhere.”

Details

By Kaili Berg

April 10, 2024

Soule (Chippewas of the Thames First Nation) was a professional body piercer and tattoo artist for about 15 years, working in shops across the world. He now juggles various artistic endeavors, painting, sculpting, installations, music, and his clothing line, CHIPPEWAR. 

During the spring to fall seasons, you can catch him on the powwow trail, traveling to various powwows across the United States and Canada to sell his art, clothing, and other merchandise. 

Soule recently talked to Native News Online about his transition from tattooing and body piercing to multimedia work sparked by the Idle No More movement — an Indigenous-led social and environmental justice movement, his creative process, and what advice he would give to aspiring Native artists.  

What inspired you to become an artist?
I worked as a body piercer and tattoo artist for about 15 years before I shifted my focus to artwork around 2012. This change was influenced by the emergence of the Idle No More movement, which inspired me to contribute to sharing messages from the Indigenous community through my art. 

What are you looking forward to the most by having your art showcased alongside other local artists at the Artist Project?
For the Artist’s Project, I won’t be emphasizing sales pitches. It’ll simply showcase my paintings and the neon signs I create. I’ve taken on this space mainly to expose my work to potentially thousands of people. This isn’t my first time participating; it’s probably my third or fourth. Honestly, it’s never been financially rewarding—I usually end up losing money. However, I see it as a chance to promote and market my work rather than focusing on sales. My art, which blends Indigenous themes with pop culture, might not always find the right market here. Still, I attend to make connections, meet new people, and network with fellow artists. That’s what matters to me more than just selling my work. 

Can you tell us about any specific pieces or collections you’ll be showcasing at the Artist Project and what inspired them?
I’ll be displaying nine of my neon signs from a series I call ‘Max Versus.’ They’re inspired by the old Mad Magazine spoofs on products. For example, I’ve taken a product like Mr. Clean and changed it to ‘Mr. Genocide Magic Eraser,’ featuring Johnny McDonald. Another sign is a spoof on a Canadian Dry soda can, titled ‘Caniduh Lies,’ renamed ‘Ginger Tails.’ There’s also ‘Chief Rezardee,’ a play on Chef Boyardee, featuring a canned moose stew. In total, there are nine of these neon signs. Additionally, I’ll be showcasing a variety of skateboards and my movie poster works. For instance, ‘They Lie’ and ‘Indian Boy in the Temple of Doom’ highlight the residential school system and the Catholic Church’s impact on Indigenous children. The exhibition will include larger paintings, neon signs, and skateboard artwork.

Could you share some insights into the creative process behind your artwork and clothing designs? 
All of my work is based on pop culture references. Growing up in a non-Indigenous home, I spent my time watching TV and watching movies and listening to music. I didn’t know much about my culture or where I came from initially. As I started learning and reconnecting, I found a way to incorporate Indigenous themes into pop culture references. It became a means of Indigenizing what I knew about pop culture while also addressing the lack of Indigenous representation and the misrepresentation in film and television. I also grew up skateboarding, reading Mad Magazine, and watching various movies, so my work is a combination of all those influences.

Soule’s neon sign series, ‘Max Versus, ‘ imbues recognizable products with a narrative twist. (photos/Instagram)

What challenges have you faced as an Indigenous artist navigating the art world, and how have you overcome them?
The biggest challenge for any Indigenous artist is that we earn 30 to 40 percent less than non-Indigenous artists in Canada. The art market here tends to favor traditional Indigenous art, creating closed spaces for Indigenous artists. When opportunities do arise, they often expect traditional Indigenous art, which doesn’t align with my pop culture and pop art style. This has made it difficult for me to fit into their expectations. Curators, museums, and galleries struggle with defining what traditional Indigenous art looks like. It’s been a significant challenge. Most of my progress has come from my own initiative—about 90 percent of it involves me opening doors for myself or self-producing.

Can you share any upcoming projects or exhibitions you’re particularly excited about after the Artist Project?
I have two upcoming exhibitions. One begins later this month, towards the last week of April, at Museum London in London, Ontario. They’ll be displaying 14 of my movie poster paintings in the museum. Then, on June 14th, in Quebec City, my buffalo skulls exhibition returns. This time, it’ll be indoors, set up in the basement of a 200-year-old brick or stone building in Old Quebec City. It’ll be quite interesting to set up all those skulls and images in that space. It’s fun and exciting to see this exhibition in a different setting. I’ll be figuring it out as I go, as I’ve never even been in space until I set it up.

What advice would you give to aspiring Indigenous artists?
Just do it. Follow your instincts and create the artwork you’re drawn to. Be original with your ideas, put new spins on things, and just go for it. Don’t let anything hold you back from pursuing your art.

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About The Author

Author: Kaili BergEmail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Staff Reporter

Kaili Berg (Aleut) is a member of the Alutiiq/Sugpiaq Nation, and a shareholder of Koniag, Inc. She is a staff reporter for Native News Online and Tribal Business News. Berg, who is based in Wisconsin, previously reported for the Ho-Chunk Nation newspaper, Hocak Worak. She went to school originally for nursing, but changed her major after finding her passion in communications at Western Technical College in Lacrosse, Wisconsin.

In January 2024, the American Museum of Natural History in New York closed its Hall of the Great Plains and Hall of Eastern Woodlands, and visitors to the Field Museum in Chicago and other museums across the country are seeing covered display cases and signs explaining that these exhibits “have been covered in consideration of ongoing legal and ethical reviews.” These closures are overdue corrections by museums that have long misrepresented and misused Indigenous history. But more than a subtraction, they are a sign of an important shift in where and how Americans learn Native American history.

It’s easy to see covered cases and closed exhibits as a loss, even if an understandable one. Most of the news coverage has explained the shift as an unavoidable sacrifice for Native rights and sensibilities, a zero-sum game in which museum-goers and school field trips are the necessary losers. Headlines proclaim closures and removals and show pictures of empty cases or the final rush of visitors before the items were taken from public view. Stories quote disappointed visitors who interpret the closures as keeping them from learning about Native Americans.

Yet this focus misses the fact that there has never been an easier time to learn about Native American histories and cultures and to see Native American art and artifacts. A field trip that may be diminished by the closures at the American Museum of Natural History can simply head to lower Manhattan to visit the NYC branch of the National Museum of the American Indian. It’s time to stop expecting Native history at museums of “natural history” and start learning it from museums and cultural centers that are run by any of the hundreds of Native nations in the United States or with their collaboration. And it’s time to start learning the quite different stories that they tell.

Until recently, exhibits about Native Americans were in museums of “natural history” because white Americans saw them as part of archaeology and anthropology rather than history. At its opening in the 1960s, the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History had nothing about Native Americans, who instead were in the National Museum of Natural History alongside early primates and dinosaurs. The message was clear: Native Americans—perceived of as a monolithic culture—were primitive and destined for disappearance, fitting more with displays of animals than with the American History Museum’s message of technology and progress. In the early 20th century, the Yahi man known as Ishi was displayed as a living exhibit at the University of California Museum of Anthropology following the genocide of his people. In 1968, a group of Miwoks (Yosemites) visited the National Museum of Natural History and read in one of the exhibits that their tribe had gone “extinct” in the 19th century. And until the closures that happened in January, visitors at the American Museum of Natural History could see generic mannequins of Native men and women stoically conveying timeless primitiveness.

The latest changes are responding to new federal rules on the implementation of the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) regarding the rights of Native nations over sacred and funerary objects of their ancestors. The National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI) in Washington, D.C., founded as part of implementing NAGPRA, was a way to responsibly deal with the large collection of Native American skeletal remains and sacred burial objects held by the Smithsonian. But the NMAI has become far more than that. Its Indigenous designers, curators, and administrators, in part with funding from Native nations, have built a public space with locations in D.C. and Manhattan where everyone can learn about Native peoples—in all their diversity—as continuing nations with living cultures, as real human beings in the past, present, and future.

The return of objects, funds from casinos and other tribal businesses, and an ongoing renaissance in tribal politics and culture have enabled Native nations across the country to build and renovate their own museums and cultural centers. In spite of their fraught histories with museums, some Native nations have embraced and changed museology. As Native scholar and founding director of the Chickasaw Cultural Center, Amanda Cobb-Greetham, explained to me, Native peoples have “turned an instrument of colonization and dispossession … into an instrument of self-definition and cultural continuance.” They portray their own specific peoples as a living history. Executive Director of the Museum of the Cherokee People Shana Bushyhead Condill explains of her museum, “We preserve and perpetuate the history, stories and enduring culture of the Cherokee people.”

There are hundreds of examples, including the Mashantucket Pequot Museum and Research Center in Mashantucket, Connecticut; the Osage Nation Museum in Pawhuska, Oklahoma; and the Himdag Ki: Tohono O’odham Nation Cultural Center and Museum in Sells, Arizona. These museums all teach the diverse histories of their peoples, from the distant past to the present, to Native and non-Native visitors. As Mohawk scholar Scott Manning Stevens puts it, in these Indigenous cultural centers, “living cultures are as much a part of the fabric of the institution as the artifacts still displayed in exhibits.” Many have research centers too, where tribal and non-tribal scholars can work on a more respectful and accurate study of the past.

Read More: Without Indigenous History, There Is No U.S. History

Beyond tribal museums, other museums are being built or creating exhibits with participation by Native Americans. Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas, has become a leader in incorporating Native artists and curators into its definition of “American Art.” The Penn Museum at the University of Pennsylvania does not need to cover artifacts in its “Native American Voices: The People — Here and Now” exhibit because tribal representatives helped to create it. At the First Americans Museum in Oklahoma City, funded by the Chickasaw Nation in addition to Oklahoma City and the state of Oklahoma, Native nations collaborated on the architectural design, the exhibits, and the programming. And wherever you are, you can access online exhibits and teaching resources created by hundreds of Native nations on their own past and present.

Some of the items that have now been taken out of view may come back once they have gone through the NAGPRA consultation process, but much more important is the shift away from anthropological museums being the place to see Native American historical artifacts. Native American histories are not being lost or papered over, but the location as well as the style of their presentation is shifting to a more human, forward-looking one. This is a gain for everyone. Ideally, the covered cases and closed halls will prompt visits to new places and spark new understandings of the long and continuing history—and future—of Native America.

Jamini Roy, the man who is known for his efforts in combining folk art with modernism, showed his new, unique style through his paintings. In ‘The Three Pujarins’, Roy paints three women holding objects of puja in their hands, with a very serene expression on their face. The women are portrayed with elongated figures and simple features, which is a characteristic of Roy’s style influenced by Bengali folk art. The vibrant colours used by Roy, majorly the solid blue, yellow, and hints of red, with the women wearing nose rings has a sense of straight expression to them.

Antelope Valley Indian Museum State Historic Park will feature two guest artists, Cecelia Begay and Michael Chas Williams, in April to share their Native culture with museum visitors. The guest artists will have their art for sale.

Visitors will have the opportunity to meet Cecelia Begay (Diné Navajo) on April 13 and 14. Begay was born and raised in Castle Butte, Arizona, on the Navajo Reservation, but has lived in the Antelope Valley for over 30 years. She is known for jewelry she creates using beads, juniper seeds, pine nuts and shells.

On Saturday, April 20, the museum will showcase the art of Michael Chas Williams, a member of the Wichita Tribe of Anadarko, Oklahoma. Williams works with pastels, pencils, and pen and ink to create portraits of contemporary and historical Native American people. He also creates traditional Tribal necklaces with lapis, corals, turquoise, shells, and trade beads, in addition to leather work items and Plains dreamcatchers. Williams studied architecture and design at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo.

Event: Visiting Native American Artists

Time and Dates: 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., April 13, 14, and 20, 2024

Admission: $3 for adults. Children 12 and under are free.

Note: As a California State Parks Adventure Pass Park, 4th Graders and their families may enter for free!

Location: Antelope Valley Indian Museum SHP, 15701 East Avenue M, Lancaster, CA 93535

Directions: From State Route 14 in Lancaster, go east on Avenue K to 150th Street East. Turn right and go south for two miles to Avenue M. Turn left and go east on Avenue M for one mile to the museum.

Antelope Valley Indian Museum SHP exhibits over 4,000 objects created by the Native American peoples of southern California, Arizona, and New Mexico. Visitors also enjoy the museum’s nature trail, gift shop, and picnic area.

Pets are not allowed. Service animals are welcome per California State Parks’ Service Animals Policy.

For more information, please call the museum at (661) 946-3055 (711 TTY relay service) or visit the museum’s website at avim.parks.ca.gov. Follow us on Facebook at facebook.com/AVIndianMuseum.

The California Department of Parks and Recreation, popularly known as State Parks, and the programs supported by its Office of Historic Preservation and divisions of Boating and Waterways and Off-Highway Motor Vehicle Recreation provides for the health, inspiration and education of the people of California by helping to preserve the state’s extraordinary biological diversity, protecting its most valued natural and cultural resources, and creating opportunities for high-quality outdoor recreation. Learn more at parks.ca.gov.

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