Sunday, October 20, 2013

Portraying Native Americans in Paintings and Photographs

I used to be pretty oblivious about just how bad Native Americans still have it today, but the movie Edge of America first opened my eyes a few years back. (The movie is about a teacher who goes to the Three Nations Reservation to teach high-school English and winds up coaching the girls’ basketball team. It’s definitely a good complement to the photographs we’ve been looking at if anyone is interested.) Despite being aware of the reality of poverty, alcoholism, and gangs on Indian reservations, I was still deeply affected by Aaron Huey’s photographs and the stories about Pine Ridge. In his TED Talk, Huey shocked me with the statistics about poverty and unemployment; I couldn’t believe that 90% of Native Americans live below the poverty line and that 85% are unemployed.

Huey definitely accomplished his goal to “hurt the viewer” with his photos. After looking through the photos, I felt sad, upset, guilty, and frustrated. Like Huey mentions in his TED Talk, white people continue to take the best meat, but at the same time, he says, “Pity is not the answer. The Lakota are an incredibly beautiful and proud people” (“Behind the Scenes: Still Wounded”). I don’t know if there even is an answer, but I appreciate how Huey is working towards “a more complete view of the Pine Ridge reservation” with new images and by letting the Oglala Lakota people tell their own stories through the Pine Ridge Community Storytelling Project. The story of hope and perseverance is just as important as the story of poverty and dejection. Alexandra Fuller successfully captures this ambivalent sense of hope when she quotes Olowan Thunder Hawk Martinez at the end of her article: "We’re in dire distress, but we don’t need anyone to come and save the Indian. When we honor our customs, and when we perform ceremonies, and when we listen to our ancestors, then we have everything we need to heal ourselves within ourselves" ("In the Shadow of Wounded Knee").

Martinez’s comment inspired me to look for some of the more hopeful messages in Huey’s photographs, especially by comparing them with Catlin’s paintings. I have four images I want to focus on for the rest of this blog.



 

These two images struck me as surprisingly similar. Both Huey’s photograph (top) and Catlin’s painting (bottom) show lone Indian figures standing in the foreground high above natural landscapes. In his article, Gareth John discusses George Catlin’s painting River Bluffs, 1320 miles above St. Louis, explaining that the lone figure “conveys a sense of solitude, perhaps a surrogate for Catlin himself, romantically pondering the dreadful fate that awaits the western Indian tribes who face the spectre of an ever-encroaching frontier” (193). John’s reading of River Bluffs accurately captures what he terms “ambivalent imperialism” in Catlin’s works. By comparing Catlin’s painting with Huey’s photograph, however, we see that Catlin’s ideas were part of the misguided cult of the Vanishing American. The lone figure in Huey’s photograph is a testament to the endurance of the Indians. He is much larger and much more of a central focus than the figure in Catlin’s painting. Furthermore, rather than looking out over the vast landscape like the Indian in Catlin’s painting, the figure in Huey’s photograph looks down as if he’s trying to make his way over the rough mountain ridge without stumbling. The viewer’s eye follows the figure’s line of sight, looking down at the perilous path he is taking rather than out at the immense landscape in the background. In addition, while the landscape in the photograph is beautiful, it is brown and rugged as opposed to the green rolling hills in Catlin’s painting. The harsh yet lovely terrain in the photograph seems to symbolically capture both the beauty and the pain that Native Americans experience on the reservations today. In contrast, the terrain in Catlin’s painting beckons pioneers to fertile, untouched land in which Indians seem to almost melt away because of how small the Indian figure is in the painting.



Here’s another pair of images that lend themselves to comparison. Catlin’s painting Comanche Feats of Horsemanship (bottom) is briefly described on the webpage at http://americanart.si.edu/catlin/highlights.html:
All of the “untouched” Plains cultures Catlin most admired had been affected by Europeans, in no way more dramatically than by the acquisition of horses from the Spanish. An enthusiastic horseman himself, Catlin considered the Comanche the best of all Plains equestrians. He pointed out their adaptations of such Spanish techniques as the use of the lasso as well as practices they had developed on their own, including the use of their horse's body as a shield when firing upon enemies with bows and guns. (Image 19)
I completely forgot that horses came from the Spanish until I read this, and it made me look at both Catlin’s painting and Huey’s photograph (top) in a new way. Catlin’s painting shows Native Americans in their home setting wearing traditional attire and using traditional weapons. However, it also shows how their culture has been shaped by contact with European cultures as they use horses originally brought to them by the Spanish. The painting contradicts the cult of the Vanishing American, showing the Native Americans as fierce warriors who have adapted to “civilization” before, reappropriating horses for their own needs. Horses have become so synonymous with Native American cultures that people who see Huey’s picture assume that the Indians at Pine Ridge are staying connected to their roots by continuing to use horses. Although horses did not originally belong to Indians, Huey’s photograph still does accomplish a similar effect to Catlin’s painting. The Indians in Huey’s photograph wear clothes that look just like those that white men wear, but they continue to ride horses like their ancestors, and they ride bareback as opposed to using saddles. Both Huey’s photograph and Catlin’s painting show that Native Americans will be flexible to modernization, but, as Martinez says, “When the lights go out for good, my people will still be here. We have our ancient ways. We will remain” (Fuller, "In the Shadow of Wounded Knee").
 

4 comments:

  1. Christy,
    First of all, I thought your interpretations of the images were brilliant! And I love that you chose to focus on the hopeful, tying in the quote from Martinez in the end. When you brought up the thing about the horses in class, I also had forgotten that horses were not always a part of Native American culture. It's a great example of how they adapted and a reminder that Anglos were not the first Europeans to encounter them. It makes me even more sad, then, that it was us who violated their space and culture so deeply. I wonder why other imperial powers like Spain and France had not pushed inward into the Indians' territory? What stopped them from expanding like we eventually did once we "acquired" the land?

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  2. Christy,

    Nice analysis! I like how you juxtapose Huey's and Catlin's images in order for us to analyze them more intently. Your point about the horses from Spain helped me to make sense out of the German Shepherd in the bottom left corner of Huey's photo. My parents have had German Shepherds practically my whole life, and German Shepherds are typically known as "police dogs" and can also be rather expensive depending on their blood line. I like taking your approach to how the Indians have survived and adapted from their contact with Europeans and Americans as a way of seeing how this German Shepherd is also perfectly happy to have adapted to the "frontier" way of life. Instead of chasing cars, he is happily chasing or herding horses; perhaps, a more natural instinct for him/her to follow. I think my comment may seem a bit "stream of consciousness," but I wanted to further your excellent point by looking at the German Shepherd in context of your analysis.

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  3. Cristy,

    Like Katie and Jessica E., I think that your analysis of Catlin's and Huey's contrasting images is right on point. You seem to dig-out those nuances that can only be explored through a historical and critical framework. I especially, appreciated your interpretation of the first two images because of how you relate them to John’s—and the underlying Dippie’s—“Vanishing American.” One of those details that you nicely unveil is when you write,
    the figure in Huey’s photograph looks down as if he’s trying to make his way over the rough mountain ridge without stumbling. The viewer’s eye follows the figure’s line of sight, looking down at the perilous path he is taking rather than out at the immense landscape in the background (Lopez)
    Here, I can see you working through the theoretical framework and thinking about its implications on the images. You notice that Huey’s photograph works in a much different way than Catlin’s, even though the images are so similar. When you write that “the viewer’s eye follows line of sight,” I understood why I perceived many of Huey’s photographs in contrast to Catlin’s.

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  4. Cristy,

    I have to echo the others and say that I really appreciated your post. Upon first viewing your choice of the two landscapes, I didn't notice the whole line of sight issue. Thanks for bringing that to our attention. In response to your pairing of those two images, I would like to mention the visual effect of the contrast between lushness and barrenness. It seems like somebody might have mentioned it in class, but it is possible that I dreamed that. Anyway, the visual contrast suggests that the later photograph evidences the detrimental effect that Anglo-American influence has had on the landscape and environment. Additionally, I think that this contrast can be a comment on the agricultural poorness of the land to which the Native Americans have been driven. Of course, as you note, there is a sense of hope in this comparison as well.
    On a slightly different note, I should say that I enjoyed Jessica's comment, especially the extension of the analytical framework to the German Shepherd.

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