My original plan for today had been to show photo documentation of the damage to my immediate surrounds, wrecked by the ice storm. That will have to wait since a more immediate need has come up that got my attention and requires my solidarity.
Many individuals I know have suffered losses, neighbors and a dear colleague from OregonArtsWatch who had multiple trees fall on her house and destroy it among them. The folks at The Reser had to close the gallery – with quite a bit of the art on display completely destroyed – due to pipe breaks from the storm. And then yesterday I learned that Lillian Pitt‘s studio is under water with horrific destruction of tools, materials, and collections of art.
You may remember my review of Pitt’s last exhibition and her lifetime work in Portland’s public art spaces just 4 months ago. Resilient, flexible, forgiving: The Gifts of Lillian Pitt focused on the strength and determination of a Native American artist who forged her own way, while carrying lots of others with her, to make a lasting contribution by filling our lives with beauty. Importantly, she also kept the flame of memory alive, linking to the history of her people, often tied to losses and calamity.
Loss and calamity is what she is facing now, once again, late in life. What moved me to ask everyone I know if they can possibly help – as I do today, here, as well – is not so much the material loss, but the vision that this has made it impossible for the artist to create, to work, both to make it through this shock and also to provide the necessary daily livelihood. It is like taking the instrument away from the musician, the tools from the carpenter, the pen/computer from the writer. Something at the core of your being is forcefully blocked.
No matter HOW resilient, and that was, after all, the first adjective I used in my September description, something concrete needs to be done to remedy the situation.
There are several ways we can help:
Below are some images of works on sale (from the Star People series and three prints) that will also be shown in Eugene at the PRN Gallery until mid-April. If you are interested in purchasing one just from reading about them here, you can email Mary Rose at friendsfortvancouver@gmail.com, who is representing Lillian in this case. (Unfortunately I cannot link to this email directly.)
If you feel like acquiring one of them in person in Eugene, you can contact Analee Fuentes who will help make that happen.
Alternatively, you can plan an outing to the Friends of Fort Vancouver bookstore/gallery at Fort Vancouver. The Friends are the official non-profit partner of the National Park Service dedicated to supporting the educational mission of the Fort Vancouver National Historic Site. Executive Director Mary Rose also tends to sales on Lillian’s own website. There are many of the smaller items for sale at the historic site store and the Fort is always worth a visit in any case.
Finally, there is also a GoFundMe site for Lillian, organized by Analee Fuentes (another local artist whose beautiful work shown at The Reser was reviewed by me here.)
Here are images of the available Lillian Pitt art works: Star People sizes range from the smallest about a foot tall, to the largest at 26″. They are painted wood and some have embellishments including abalone discs or horn and tacks.
#61 $240 — — — — #72 $200 — — — — #62 $200
#63 $200 — — — — #64 $180 — — — — #65 $200
#66a $150 — — — — #66b $200 — — — — #67 $120
#68 $150 — — — — #69 $200 — — — — #70 $200
#71 $200 — — — — #74 $120 — — — — #75 $120
#76 $120 — — — — #77 $200 — — — — Star Person feeling grounded $300
Left to right: Star Person feeling peaceful $250 – Star Person feeling proud of his people $250 – Star Person feeling regal $250 – Star Person initiating four stars $250.
“…and we will remain here as long as we can see ourselves in the stars.”
– Minnesota Poet Laureate Gwen Westerman, from her poem We come from the Stars.
***
IMAGINE coming into a room filled with certain vibes: feeling peaceful, enjoying the flow, feeling grounded, dressed up to party, enjoying the rain, feeling the happiest ever, preparing for a calm rest, ready to unwind, feeling the brightness of the day, blending in, feeling proud of your people, feeling regal, filling the sky with stars. I don’t know about you, but these emotions, expressed in the titles of Lillian Pitt‘s newest exhibition, elicited a sense of joy in me, as well as a smidgen of envy, when I walked among them and the sculptures they were attached to. How can we tap the source of such serenity?
A collection of Pitt’s work is currently on display at the Bush Barn Art Center in Salem. It is an assembly of masks, carved wooden figures, ceramic and cast-glass sculptures, shimmering with color, wit and reflections echoing the positive affect of their titles. The exhibition The Art of Lillian Pitt: Past and Present is on view until the end of October, with an artist talk scheduled for Saturday, September 30, 2023. It is more than worthwhile to visit, if only for the reason that Pitt announced it to be her last public showing. I could not envision a more beautiful way to bow out.
Much has been written about the artist (Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs/ Wasco/ Yakama), born on the Warm Springs Reservation in 1943 and living in Portland for the last 60 years, so much that it is hard not to sound repetitive. She is the recipient of multiple arts Awards and part of many, many public and private collections nationally and in Canada. I happily refer to detailed accounts in an Artswatch interview with Dmae Lo Roberts from 2021 and a short documentary video by Jacob Pander from last year. My title lines were borrowed from something Pitt said in that video when asked about her approach to art as well as life.
What I want to focus on, rather than repeating facts about her evolution as an artist, is the double role she has powerfully used to enrich all of us: that of a member of her own Native American community who reminds the world of both the history and the contemporary presence of tribal life, art and achievements, and that of an artist who brings beauty and new knowledge to the rest of us who are exposed to her works inside or outside wherever we happen to encounter them. Works that teach and produce wonder at the same time.
Here are a few examples of public art projects that I happen to encounter on my walks, or when taking the Max train (admittedly before the pandemic.) They introduce both familiar and not so familiar imagery to us passing by, clues of a history that has not necessarily been frequently taught. At the Rosa Parks Trimet station depictions of baskets, pictographs, petroglyphs and salmon remind us of the tribal modes of existence in the Pacific Northwest.
If you live in NE Portland you have surely encountered the Mammook Tokatee Housing around Ne 42nd Ave, which offers surprises around every corner.
If you walk along the South West waterfront, the River Guardian greets you regardless of the weather – but in full brightness, when the sun hits just right during mid-morning, she sends out these luminous rays that feel like a life force.
And last but not least, at the plaza in Hillsboro there are multiple basalt boulders that reveal their secrets with differing degrees of ease – 30 petroglyphs have been carved by Pitt in an installation called Riverbed. It is a timely reminder that the city is located on Tualatin Kalapuya (Atfalati) land, in this specific case. These are just a few of the many examples that can be found. In general, her public art works weave themselves into our daily lives, making us conscious with whom we share a space and how long lasting a culture and its artifacts or religious objects teaches us about the history of the region and its inhabitants that predate us by ten thousands of years.
***
IN CONTRAST to the large configurations discoverable across the city, the current exhibition has many smaller objects, among them Pitt’s traditional Raku-fired masks,
and the familiar presence of She Who Watches.
There were also numerous wood carvings adorned with, at times, whimsical details. I must admit I was partial to these for idiosyncratic reasons. One of my childhood pleasures was to be allowed to open my grandmother’s sewing box and take out a can with buttons, often large and unusual, playing with them and arranging them to my liking. Multiple buttons can be found on Pitt’s work as well, making my fingers itch….
Left to Right: Star person enjoying the Flow, Star person feeling peaceful, Star person feeling grounded, Star person with many stars. Details below.
Details:
Last row: Star Person enjoying the copper rain.
Star persons? I learned from Pitt’s introduction that different tribes had origin stories about the Star People, who helped generate agricultural skills and introduced the most important food groups, according to the Navajo People’s legends; the Sioux used stories of the Star and Cloud people to instill hope among suffering, with animal ancestors coming down from the stars to guide the way home.
These Star People stories have now found instantiations in the star people capturing color and light: here are some of my favorite instances:
Top to bottomt: Star Person ready to unwind, Star Person feeling the brightness of the day, Star Person preparing for a calm rest, Star Person feeling the happiest ever, Star Person blending in.
I could not help but wonder if these were companions during mental preparation for retirement, an artist’s recital to herself that a life so full as her’s deserved a rest, unwinding, happiness. And that that would unfold. I cannot imagine for a second, though, that a creative mind like Pitt’s would ever slow down, much less shut down. Maybe the public exposition of her work, but not the ideas themselves. After all, she is a story teller in the grand tradition of her people, full of experience, wisdom, knowledge to be shared. And storytellers need to tell their stories.
Of course, this is the pleading voice of the audience, here, who doesn’t want to let go of opportunities to explore the legends. To hold the beauty, a beauty, in my book, most emotionally conveyed in Pitt’s ceramic work:
Starperson feeling the strength of the Snake Goddess
Star Person Blushing
Star Person filling the sky with stars.
Resilient, flexible, forgiving: attributes of the clay that she shapes into testimonials to Native American history. Attributes that shaped her into one of our most important sources of artistic expression inseparable of that history.
Dear Lillian Pitt, could we respectfully ask you to please postpone retirement a little longer?
***
Here is the full poem about what the Star People brought.
Wicaŋhpi Heciya Taŋhaŋ Uŋhipi
(We Come from the Stars)
Stellar nucleosynthesis. That explains where everything
in our universe
came from according to astrophysicists who only recently discovered the cosmological constant causing the expansion
of our universe.
Our creation story tells us we came from the stars to this place Bdote where the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers converge, our journey along the Wanaġi Caŋku,
in our universe,
that stargazers later called the Milky Way now disappearing in the excessive glow of a million million urban uplights. The original inhabitants of this place,
of our universe,
we are Wicaŋhpi Oyate, People and will remain here as long as we can see ourselves
The Oregon Humanities offers a terrific program called Dear Stranger. It is an annual letter-exchange project that connects Oregonians with each other, to share bits about their lives, their experiences and beliefs. You send a letter in and they randomly swap it for another one sent back to you. This year’s topic revolves around care: who cares about what, whom, where do you see care and where its absence. You can still join, the deadline is in June, I believe.
I wish I had gotten one of these letters, years ago, from someone living in Hillsboro. It would have helped me discover a vibrant community, devoted to the arts, caring for education and inclusivity. It’s sort of absurd that I have hiked and photographed in neighboring Jackson Bottom Wetlands Preserve for years on end, and never ever set foot into the town nearby, so easily reached by the MAX Blue line or by car with plenty of free parking.
Maybe you all knew all along. But I am not the only one who had no clue what’s on offer. When I visited the Glenn and Viola Walters Cultural Arts Center by invitation of the gallery specialist, Karen de Benedetti, I uttered something along the lines of “I didn’t know this existed!” This seems to be a sentiment frequently voiced by visitors right next to the belief that the building is a church. Which it was, and a beautiful one inside at that.
The Walters opened its doors in 2004 and has since served the community in many ways. Like the Parks and Recreation, Cultural Arts Division, all the Walters’ programs are part of the City of Hillsboro. What used to be a sanctuary is now a performance space with a stage, a fully equipped, concert-quality sound booth, and a program that includes something for every interest, from music to dance to the spoken word, diverse genres and cultural perspectives included. Of the 16 performances in each annual series, 6 are grant funded by the Performance Series Grant Program, providing opportunity for local groups to join the series. There are also other grant programs that support local artists and arts organizations. Cultural Arts Manager Michele McCall-Wallace is one of the forces at work to shape these programs at the Walters as well as the town’s cultural arts action plan that envisions future developments.
Entrance Hall and Performance Space at the Walters
The large space with its beautiful wood-work ceiling arches can also be rented for social occasions, from weddings, to quinceañeras, to celebratory luncheons, fundraisers and so on. Another, perhaps even more important way to serve the community, is the educational program offered by the center.
Melissa Moore is responsible for the education and outreach program which offers a wide variety of learning opportunities, from painting, to dance, theatre, music, drawing, and more. Among them is a fully equipped ceramics studio that welcomes students of all levels and provides access to its kilns for those enrolled in the classes.
From pre-school to seniors, with scholarships available, art education is prized, as is community involvement. The center, in partnership with the Washington County Office for Aging, Disability, and Veteran Services, offers a Memory Café, for example, which is designed for people with memory loss, early stage Alzheimer’s or a related dementia, and their families. Trained guides help participants experience art in a gentle environment.
Various local-non-profits engage with youths in programs at the Walters, in ways that contribute both knowledge and occasional gifts. The Hillsboro police department, for example, donated and fitted helmets at the end of a class that had kids create designs and then paint a skateboard. Skateboards reminded me of Hillsboro author’s Blake Nelson’s novel Paranoid Park, made into a movie by Gus van Sant. Remember? The film won, among others, the Cannes Film Festival’s special 60th anniversary prize. Nelson these days has an interesting travel blog, by the way.
***
Gallery space upstairs and downstairs
I had come to explore the current exhibition, Fire & Ice: Magic from the Earth, at the Walters’ art gallery which covers a set of spaces upstairs and downstairs, wide open and more intimate, respectively. Sensitively and tightly curated by de Benedetti, the exhibit alone is worth a trip out to Portland’s Western neighbor. The work is divided between ceramics and photography, the latter of frozen constellations captured by notable PNW fine art photographer Don Jacobson. Some of the icy landscapes might make it into the history annals, if the current warming climate trends continue (never mind this strange snowy April weather.)
Don Jacobson: Eagle Creek #1
Don Jacobson Ice Cathedral – Lower Multnomah Falls #2
Don Jacobson – Porcelain Basin #2
The ceramics were created by the folks at East Creek Art, a community art studio in Willamina, OR, that serves students, artists and educators, offering an introduction to and use of the West’s first Anagama wood burning kiln. Making these objects requires firing the wares in a collaborative process that takes several days of round-the-clock stoking, with flames and ashes creating the incredible patterning on the art.
Aubrey Sloan and Joe Robinson Flotsam
Cooper Jeppesen Tripod Vase
From left to right: Jenna Lee Wood-fired ZigZag Planter; Katy McFadden A Union; Chris Schwartz Wood fried Temmoku Vase; Elijah Pilkington Altered Stoneware Vase;
Jess “Squirrel” Komaromy Old Rosie.
What struck me most was not just the beauty of individual pieces, but the communal richness of the show: art ranged from works of absolute beginners to masters of the form, reinforcing rather than distracting from each other. Instructing new generations in an ancient Asian methodology.
Cooper Jeppesen East Creek Basket #1
Lew Allen Ashfall (Excerpt) Carrie Gibbs Oregon’s Elusive Bigfoot 2020 “Barely Made It!”
About a quarter of Hillsboro’s population (in total now well over 100.000 inhabitants, thus Oregons 5th largest city) could probably read Cervantes in the original, given their Hispanic background. I can only manage in translation: “One who reads and walks a lot, sees and knows a lot.” And walk we did during this visit, as well as drive, guided by yet another friendly person willing to devote some of his work day to showing me around.
Karl LeClair, a recent transplant from Idaho, is the new Public Art Supervisor in the Hillsboro Parks & Recreation universe. He guided me to three points of interest beyond the Walters, relevant to the appreciation of public art. (Further reading, in agreement with Cervantes, will involve this link to the Public Art Archive, a fount of information.)
We looked at the Hillsboro Civic Center and the adjacent Plaza first. The few remaining Sequoias across the street are reflected in the building, and a bold piece on its walls traces the needle branches.
Brian Borrello Sequoia Frond (2004)
The Plaza itself is a lively place when the weather warms up and Tuesday night markets resume. It is lined with basalt boulders that reveal their secrets with differing degrees of ease – 30 petroglyphs have been carved by Lillian Pitt (Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs/ Wasco/ Yakama) in an installation called Riverbed. It is a timely reminder that the city is located on Tualatin Kalapuya (Atfalati) land (I wrote about some of the Kalapuyan tribal history earlier here.)
Lillian Pitt Riverbed
Inside the Civic Center the visitor is greeted with colorful art on the elevator doors, glass art on the stair well, and a gallery space, the Shirley Huffman Auditorium Gallery, that contains permanent as well as changing exhibitions, currently showing work of some of the faculty that teaches at the Walters.
Hampton Rodriguez Diversity
Linda Haworth Father Time (2004) – John Groth Grand Staircase (2004) – Walters’ Faculty show Creative Brilliance – Skateboard included!
Another gallery space can be found at the recently opened Hidden Creek Community Center, a stream-lined, state-of-the-art facility for sports, education and meeting rooms. OPSIS Architecture collected tons of well deserved awards across the last two years for this first-of-its-kind mass timber building that blends into the adjacent forest. Situated close to a site designated for a large affordable housing development, the wood and glass structure is functional and inviting. Better still, with a large solar array on the roof of the community wing, natural ventilation, water conservation measures, and balanced daylighting, the Community Center is enrolled in the Energy Trust of Oregon’s Path to Net-Zero program and is expected to achieve net-zero energy use.
The public art above and below is by acclaimed Seattle public artist Norie Sato, a front entry steel wall with embedded tiny mirrors that reflect light and a free standing sculpture, E+MergenCe: Energy and Memory.
There are clearly numerous decentralized spaces for art in this city, and, as LeClair told me, conversations have often looked to find ways to coordinate and harmonize the isolated showings and offerings. As a City of Hillsboro program, the Cultural Arts Division of Parks & Recreation operates under the guidance of the Hillsboro Art and Culture Council (HACC) which is a citizen advisory committee appointed by the Mayor and City Council. The City’s Cultural Arts Action Plan captures the spirit of critical mass within Hillsboro advocating for the growth of cultural assets that benefits the local community and guides the work of Cultural Arts in serving the community.
Here are some of the upcoming programs at the Walters – just so you get a glimpse of the variety on offer.
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A Thousand Words June 7 – July 22, 2022
Joy Cartier, Mark Dunst, Jane Kearns, Stacey Stoudenmeyer, & Eliza Williams
On display Jun 7 – Jul 22
First Tuesday’s (June 7 & July 5)
Like the pages of a book, artists Joy Cartier, Mark Dunst, Jane Kearns, Stacey Stoudenmeyer and Eliza Williams explore the messy, imperfect space between thoughts and words. Layering paper, paint, and meaning over time, the artists merge simplicity and complexion, with captured emotions and expressions to tell abstracted stories.
Upcoming programs:
First Tuesday Art Walk, May 3rd 5:00 – 8:00 pm (Walters)
Lee Kelly dedication, May 17th 11:30 – 1:00 pm (Public Works building)
Rasika Dance Friday, May 20th 6:30 – 7:30 pm (Walters)
Barro Mestizo Friday, May 6th 7:30 pm (Walters)
Grupo Borikuas Friday, June 10th 7:30 pm (Walters)
Rejoice Friday, April 22nd 7:30 pm (Walters)
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***
And then there was the unexpected detour to the Hillsboro Public Works facility. Think transportation, sanitary sewer, and storm drainage, housed in a modern structure, designed by the same LRS architectural group that built the Civic Center. In front, an unwieldy, huge sculpture emerges through mist and rain, seemingly dropped from the sky like an alien crustacean. It stands there stubbornly, daring us to find a linkage, any association at all, to the building behind it, which I failed to come up with. Not that it mattered: Lee Kelly’s 30 year-old Untitled (Omark) piece breathes freely on its own. A powerful, abstract Cor-Ten steel structure stretches all of its 14x26x36 feet size into space, solidly anchored on stout columns, beckoning with openings under its arches.
Rumor has it that the sculpture by Kelly, who passed away last month, was in limbo at its old location and destined for the steelyard. Originally commissioned by Omark Industries, (Oregon Saw Chain Company in its beginnings) it stood at their business site along Macadam Ave, at the Willamette river. When property changed hands nobody knew what to do with the piece. Kelly’s representative, Elizabeth Leach Gallery, came to the rescue, as did Hillsboro’s Public Art Program, and this new location was secured. A dedication ceremony is slated for May 17th.
Lee Kelly Untitled (Omark) (1992)
***
Portland, OR April 2022
“Dear Stranger,
I hope this letter finds you well and able to explore some of what our state has to offer. I immigrated to the US in 1981, and have lived in PDX since 1986. I am interested in practically everything, except sports and cooking. (Yes, people like that do exist.)
Art has a special place in my world and I admit that I have not been particularly informed about what Oregon provides state-wide, or even in my own vicinity. My bad. One of the remedies was an exploration of Hillsboro, a small town west of Portland.
Since the topic of this year’s pen-pal exchange is “care,” let me report that I just discovered how much Hillsboro and its organizations, its art- and public service-related staff, all care about the arts. Work for the arts. Educate about the arts. Invest in the arts.
There seems to be an implicit understanding that private and public art does not just enrich physical environments, or boost local economies. Art can raise community pride, promote civic discourse, connect neighbors and their communities in all their diversity and/or shared history. I am grateful that a single proactive gallery curator got me out to a place where all of this seems to be happening! Let me do you the favor in turn – head to Hillsboro!
Sincerely,
Another Stranger.”
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The Glenn and Viola Walters Cultural Arts Center
150 E. Main Street, Hillsboro, Oregon 97123
Hours of Operation Monday through Thursday: 9 am to 9 pm Friday: 9 am to 5 pm Saturday & Sunday: Closed except for special events & private rentals
Exhibit Reception for Fire& Ice: Tuesday, May 3, 5 to 8 pm
“…Make sure the spirits of these lands are respected and treated with goodwill. The land is a being who remembers everything. You will have to answer to your children, and their children, and theirs— The red shimmer of remembering will compel you up the night to walk the perimeter of truth for understanding….” – Joy Harjo – Excerpt from Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings (2015)
Analee Fuentes (Mexican-American) Sockeye Salmon, Spawning Oil on Canvas
Joy Harjo, a Musckogee Creek Nation member and 23rd Poet Laureate of the U.S., urged us in a recent collection of poems, Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, to assess our place in the world, to mind our obligations derived from history, and to fulfill our duty to “speak in the language of justice.”
Celilo, Never Silenced, the remarkable inaugural art exhibition at the newly opened Patricia Reser Center for the Arts in Beaverton, provides memory aides that will help us to “walk the perimeter of truth,” as Harjo phrases it, perhaps the first step in the direction of justice.
What was Celilo? Who were the people displaced by a U.S. governmental decision to dam up a river that provided existential, spiritual and cultural essentials at Celilo falls where salmon fishing and concomitant trade meetings for the Pacific Northwest tribes happened since time immemorial? As I wrote before in OregonArtsWatch, the fates of salmon and the Northwest tribes were intertwined and received an immeasurable blow when the Dalles dam was constructed in 1957. The dam inundated the upstream Celilo Falls and Celilo village, the largest trading center for salmon, with scant compensation for the loss. Subpar housing was built only for a few permanent residents of the village who were displaced, ignoring all those tribal members who lived on reservations but regularly came to Celilo to fish and trade. It took until 2005 to start building the promised structures and no serious reparations have been paid for the immense loss of livelihoods that depend on salmon fishing.
Sara Siestreem (Hanis Coos / Confederated Tribes of Coos / Lower Umpqua / Siuslaw) Disasters of Man Acrylic, Graphite, China Marker, Color Pencil on BFK
I honestly have no idea how many people in Oregon, if approached on the street, would know this history or be aware of its implications. I wager that for most of us there will be few associations, negative or positive. For Pacific Northwest tribes, on the other hand, it was a rupture, endangering fish and river health alike, increasing conflict over ever scarcer resources, and ignoring the spiritual importance of salmon to tribal culture as much as the fact that food security was endangered with less protein available.
Richard Rowland (Hawaiian) Ahikaaroa Firebox Vase Anagama Wood-fired Vase
The Reser exhibition provides an educational starting point for a conversation about Native American losses and the conflict surrounding broken promises, undermined treaties, and the consequences for tribal members in the present and not just some hazy past. That said, the show is also a marvel in the way it collects and displays a wide range of artworks across diverse media, thoughtfully curated by gallery coordinator Karen De Benedetti, showcasing the resilience and power of contemporary tribal artists.
Gail Tremblay (Onondaga and Mi’kmaq) Stone Giants sleeping under the Bear StarAcrylic on Canvas
De Benedetti knows to give the work room to breathe instead of overstuffing the walls, has a keen eye, and is willing to take risks with selections that vary across styles and accessibility – and all that in a part-time position, which makes the results all the more impressive. Trained as an artist and with a wide repertoire of experiences across educational and exhibitory settings, including positions at two previous art centers started from scratch, she knows the ropes. She managed to compile a set of works that introduce us to a significant number and variety of current Native American artists, one more interesting than the next.
Don Bailey (Hupa tribal member, raised on the Hoopa Valley Reservation in California)Once upon a time on the Columbia Oil on Canvas
Bailey is new to me. I was completely taken with the interplay of ambiguous planes in the painting, as well as the double use of paddle/pestle in the lower right corner, the landscape shifting in and out of configurations belonging to either nature or man.
Fused and blown glass, ceramics, painting, linocut prints, sculpture, photography, archival footage, poetry – smartly arranged, all telling a story, from different perspectives, about a river, a place, a sacred fishing ground and displaced nations – rising in resilience with memory intact and now translated into art. The “perimeter of truth” of which Harjo speaks was really laid out across these walls.
Amply represented is is Lillian Pitt’s intricate work. A member of the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs/ Wasco/ Yakama, she and Rick Bartow, who was an enrolled member of the Mad River Band of Wiyot Indians, and whose work is also included, probably have the highest name recognition.
Lillian PittRiver Stick Indian Cast Crystal, Steel and Granite
Lillian PittAncestors Fused Glass
Lillian PittRiverGuardian Cast Crystal, Steele and Granite
Another familiar name is Joe Feddersen, a member of the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation (Okanagan and Arrow Lakes.) His sculptures exhibit an almost clinical serenity I so often associate with good blown glass, letting us perceive light through reflection and cast shadow, belying the insane skill required to produce such quiet elegance.
Joe Feddersen Fishtrap Blown Glass
Joe Feddersen Fishtrap V Blown Glass
There is archival photography capturing the history and contemporary photography by Joe Cantrell, Cherokee, raised in Cherokee County, Oklahoma who also contributed a driftwood sculpture.
Joe Cantrell Totem Enduring Resilience Driftwood
Joe Cantrell Walking Together Digital photograph on aluminum
***
When you exit the gallery towards the main entrance hall, you step into a large space marked by wood, glass, steel and concrete with a motion-sensitive public sculpture of a dandelion shedding its seeds. Brian Libby, my colleague at OregonArtsWatch, wrote about the history, architecture and philanthropy of Patricia Reser regarding the building here.
Jacqueline Metz and Nancy ChewPuff Rearview Mirror Ball
The Reser Center has at its core a state-of-the-art theatre that has multi-purpose use and, come June, will be presenting Portland Chamber Orchestra’s production of a large-scale work by Nancy Ives, Celilo Falls: We were there. The chamber-music piece will be accompanied by text and storytelling by Ed Edmo (Shoshone-Bannock) and projected photographic images by Joe Cantrell (Cherokee) which explores the geologic and human history of Celilo Falls.
It never ceases to amaze me how a single individual with a vision, means and generosity, can set great things in motion.
Pah-Tu Pitt (Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs / Wasco / Yakama / Pitt River (Wintu))Salish Protector MaskCarved Yellow Cedar – Sean Gallagher (Asuruk, Inupiaq) Arctic Goose TranscendenceAcrylic on Canvas
When you walk upstairs you enter a space with a small gallery for emerging artists, which is as light-filled, with giant windows, as the first-floor space that abuts the street. On all levels, the outside is invited in, an openness towards and desire to merge with the community – which is by all reports what the new arts center is all about. Chris Ayzoukian, the Reser’s director, wants to celebrate the different cultures in the community and provide a platform that gives diverse artists a voice with this performing arts center. The building, which makes the inside visible wherever possible, reflects that goal. At the same time, the neighborhood is reflected in the glass of several of the gallery works, including one by Jonnel Covault, also new to me.
Jonnel CovaultUndamned Linocut Print
Rick Bartow (Mad River Band of Wiyot Indians,)Fall Hawk IMonotype
Covault’s linocuts capture the landscape in precise and elegant ways, walking a shifting line between abstract patterns and the occasional hyper-representation, often discovered only when you look closely.
Jonnel CovaultThe Powers that BeLinocut Print
Jonnel Covault Over the Fall Linocut Print
***
Walking around the Reser, art gallery and building alike, I was thinking back to my last visit to The Whitney for the Biennial in 2019. If you imagine a portion of the NYC’s museum for contemporary art, condensed to an elongated miniature block and plopped down in Beaverton, you might find some similarities.
Whitney Museum of Contemporary Art upper left; the rest is The Reser.
Yes, a different world, a different league, but comparable in a shared thematic focus on inclusion of diverse constituencies. Both institutions are partly trying to use art to help us understand, in light of a sometimes violent history, who we and who others are and who we want to be. All of which includes an acknowledgement that there is often a separation between co-existing cultures, driven on one side by anything from racism to ignorance to fleeting guilt-tinged hesitancy to engage in conversation, met potentially by historically justified distrust and desire for inward protection on the other side.
I had written about the Whitney’s approach in 2019 here.
And this is where the power of the exhibition kicks in: demonstrating the brutal division between those of us who are clueless about what many of the artworks imply, and those who get it in the blink of an eye, being familiar with the expressed contents via the reality of one’s daily existence. We might share the same space, in world and museum alike, but we surely do not share a language or the experiences eventually captured by that language when it relates to race, gender, disability, and access.
I tried to explore a possible bridging between worlds by photographing NYC street-art found in Harlem and Bushwick, the East Village and Williamsburg, communal expressions of the issues at the center of the museum pieces, a call and response between cultures.
This year’s Biennial at the Whitney, opening in April, is titled Quiet as it’s kept, addressing our desire to look away from the harm we cause or have experienced, keep it secret and silent, no matter how much trauma ensued. The current Reser exhibition proudly defies keeping it quiet. Like all good art and education, it raises questions, sometimes uncomfortably so, and provides a toolbox so that we ourselves can explore potential answers. In this context it is helpful that there is support through organizations that have a history of engaging in dialogue.
One of those partners is the Confluence Project. The community-based non-profit presents indigenous voices to connect to the ecology, history and culture of the Columbia River System. Besides educational programs – here and here are some about Celilo – there are art landscapes that link present and past, open to be explored by all. One of my favorites is easily reached in the Sandy River Delta. Maya Lin’s bird blind, located at 1000 Acres park, was constructed with black locust, an invasive species to the Northwest. Its use after removal from the landscape underlines the commitment to sustainability. The wooden slats tell the names and current status of 134 species Lewis and Clark noted on their westward journey. As Harjo suggests, the land might be a being that remembers everything. This land art helps us to remember as well.
Make your way to the Reser first, though. Parking is easy with an adjacent structure, (butterfly-adorned, no less, with threatened Fender’s Blues.)
Will Schlough GatherPainted Aluminum
The Max station is a stone’s throw away, and outside seating is available around the arts center to take a break and enjoy spring temperatures, public art,
Jason Klimoski and Lesley Chang, StudioKCARibbon Concrete, steel, LED
and a bit of reclaimed duck pond. The Westside is lucky to have a new, important destination. Really, we all are.
Artists talks are coming up. More inclusive exhibitions are being planned. Go check it out!
Saturday, April 30th | 2:00 pm – Artist talk with Joe Cantrell, Ed Edmo & Nancy Ives
Saturday, May 14th / Artist talk with Analeee Fuentes & Richard Rowland
Saturday May 22nd / Artist talk with Lillian Pitt, Sara Siestreem, Greg Archuletta and Greg Robinson More details to come:www.thereser.org
Gallery exhibit from March 1 – June 5, 2022. Gallery hours are Wednesday-Saturday 10 am-6 pm.
Patricia Reser Center for the Arts, 12625 SW Crescent St, Beaverton, OR 97005
How do you persist as an individual, a group, a people, when insult is added to injury in a never ending stream of violations, ignorance – willful ignorance -, appropriations or plain, colonial hostility? What are the sources for resilience, when you face scarcity, displacement, disrespect and racism in continuity?
These thoughts went through my mind while standing in a sun-lit, silent landscape on the Washington side of the Columbia river near Horsethief Butte, the quietude only occasionally interrupted by the calls of birds of prey.
I was looking across the Temani Pesh-Wa Trail, lined by pictographs (rock paintings) and petroglyphs (rock carvings) that were created by the First People who lived in the Gorge and the surrounding uplands. The introductory panel read: Honor the Past, Respect the Present.
The story of these particular stones is one of sorrow and resilience, with little honor or respect from most of us non-indigenous folks when it comes to their fate in the last century, until they were placed at Columbia Hills a few years ago.
Nobody knows how many of these images existed along the shores of the Columbia. It is estimated there were about 90 or so sites between Pasco and The Dalles. The rocks before you were about to be submerged when the floodwaters rose from yet another dam, the inundation of the John Day Reservoir. The U.S.Army Corps of Engineers cut out just a few of them in time and they were relocated under the guidance of Chief Gus George, (Rock Creek Indian) in the small town of Roosevelt, Wa. Stored there, in a small, unprotected park, they were subject to vandalism and decay, given that the community simply did not have the means to protect them from visitors who came to do rubbings, or worse. Several disappeared, taken as souvenirs or stolen by collectors, who knows. (I found much of the information for today here and here.)
Relocated again in 2003, they spent an interim decade in Horsethief park until they found a final home at the Temani Pesh-Wa Trail in 2012 with the help of the Wanapa Koot Koot working group that consisted of representatives of the Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation, the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation, the Confederated Tribes of the Warm Springs Reservation of Oregon, the Nez Perce Tribe and government administrators. Tribal elders and cultural specialists engaged to present tribal values and respect for the original creation of their ancestors. The site is open 7 months of the year and some of the paths only accessible with a guided tour, leading to the cliff face that depicts Tsagaglalal, or “She who watches” in the Wasco-Wishram language.
Vandalism and theft is a physical attack on heritage objects. Another is appropriation of imagery that does not belong on t-shirts, mugs or any other tourist trap merchandise. But there is also an issue with the use of language and interpretation of something that is rooted in a different culture. As early as 1719 Cotton Mather (on the East Coast) described “writing on stone.” Across the centuries the images caught the interest of archeologists, anthropologist, plain old explorers and people interested in the history of their region. Guesses about origins and interpretive or value judgements proliferated.
Eventually people settled on calling them rock art. Stop that!, argues eminent Native American artist Lillian Pitt carefully and Jon Shellenberger (Yakama), who holds a BS in Anthropology and MA in Cultural Resource Management, passionately.
“Petroglyphs/pictographs are not art. They are sacred images that represent significant cultural themes, messages, beliefs to a Tribe. They were not created for aesthetic purposes. They were created to teach, warn, or record those not yet born. Even though we may think that they are pretty, beautiful, pleasant to look at, those are not the values inherent in the images you see. those are the values that you as the viewer are placing on the image. Please stop calling them rock art. “
“There is a lot of meaning conveyed through petroglyphs/pictographs. Some of that meaning is known and some of it is only known by certain individuals within certain families. Many tribes didn’t have a written language and depended on oral tradition to perpetuate their culture. These images are a manifestation of the culture as it relates to the environment. They demarcate sacred sites, warn people to beware, indicate the presence of animals or plants, and are at times prophetic. Elders are still learning about the meaning of specific petroglyphs and its only in certain stages of life that they are able to understand their meaning.”
Contrast that with an interpretive sign at another petroglyphs site at Death Valley National Park:
Indian rock carvings are found throughout the western hemisphere. Indians living today deny any knowledge of their meaning. Are they family symbols, doodlings, orceremonial markings? Your guess is as good as any. Do not deface – they cannot be replaced. (bolded by me, source here.)
Licence is given to impose our (non-native) interpretations and stereotypes on objects as if we have the same amount of knowledge or insights as the living descendants of those who created the images, or tribal archeologists and anthropologists. Our fantasies of renewal and closeness to nature, of a long lost authenticity that we associate with Indian tribes, are superimposed on the carvings, when we have no clue what they really meant in the context where they were created.
“The stakes in the interpretation of rock art are substantial. Interpretations of(pre)historic rock art’s original meanings and functions, especially when passed on to the public through guide books, museum displays, and interpretive materials at rock art sites, have the potential to shape perceptions of Native Americans, challenging or reinforcing dominant perceptions of indigenous cultures and histories.” (Ref.)
Native Americans, like Lillian Pitt, explain the nature of these carvings as part of religious ceremonies, hunting rituals, or for the purpose of communicating important messages. Some were private, done by young people on vision quests, others public. Pictographs were painted with pigments derived from coal, iron oxide deposits (hematite and limonite,) clay and copper oxide. Ground into powder and added to a binder of fat, bolded, eggs, urine, saliva or plant juices, they were applied with fingers. Petroglyphs were achieved through carving into the rock, pecking, scratching or scraping with a harder hammer stone.(Ref.)
They all have in common a spiritual nature which requires that the sanctity of the place where we encounter them (even if they have been moved 4 times in 50 years… ) needs to be respected. Not my place of origin, not my culture, not my knowledge base – but a sense of linked humanity, a desire to communicate shared across the millennia.
It was easy to feel awe and reverence, on that bright morning, myself a tiny speck in a large landscape,
surrounded by ground squirrels and bald eagles,
and goose tracks,
facing a small tree that symbolized resilience, defying a barren location.
Nez Perce songs today for music. If you are interested in seeing work of contemporary Native American artists, visit Maryhill Museum, which opens again March 15th!
