Johnson, who is Mohawk and Blackfoot, is a multidisciplinary artist whose work feels simultaneously familiar and distinct, both approachable and demanding. Her work is full of subtleties, allusions and challenges that invite the viewer into deeper, denser conversations about social camouflage and protection, community and humans' relationship with land.
This can be seen in her work, which often features natural and organic elements, like fur and shells, as well as familiar iconography portrayed in unconventional media. One of the most powerful messages in her art has to do with the complex relationship between U.S. and Native history.
"The idea of America didn't include Onkwehonwe (Indigenous people) or non-white/non-male people until relatively recently," Johnson told Mic. "My work explores camouflage in cultural terms, how we identify, protect and hide ourselves; and how we are identified, hidden and threatened by others ... the fear of predation exists for all animals, [and] people are a kind of animal.
"I work from my perspective as mixed, descending from Onkwehonwe and settlers, so I am exploring my experience and learning about where I come from as well."
Galanin, who is Tlingit and Aleut, celebrates his contemporary art education with his awareness of traditional (also known as customary) practices in his multimedia art and music. He holds his individuality and his culture high, developing a singular, passionate, autonomous voice.
"Nothing about what I do is a new perspective on Americanness," Galanin told Mic about how his work reflected his perspective on what it means to be American. His work, he said, "comes from a place that has known 'America' before 'America' decided to call this land 'America.'"
In unique ways, his art rejects the so-called "settler" narrative. "To exist and offer works that speak from our own indigenous perspective is revolutionary when the institution is created to teach this perspective as a cliff note. Sovereign Indigenous creativity is power," Galanin said.
Hyde, who is Onondaga and Nez Perce, is a multimedia painter and visual artist whose work is as multidimensional as the concepts he explores. Hyde's work simultaneously acknowledges and rejects the stereotypes that are often associated with so-called "Indian artists."
Hyde's work has echoes of street art as well as graphic design, fantastic colors and an almost-playful surrealism. However, his perspective on his experience as a Native in America, or a Native artist, isn't playful or surreal at all.
"I'm still holding up a mirror to popular society but I'm also not where I want to be yet — I have my eye on bigger venues and bigger conversations nationally," Hyde told the Santa Fe Reporter. "By sort of being persistent, I've earned a place in the contemporary Native art scene, whatever that is or wherever it exists outside of Santa Fe. It's one thing to be invited to the dinner, but it's another thing to hold your place at the table."
Henriquez, who is Maya and Nahua, has a distinctive visual voice expressed primarily on city streets. As a student of street art and graffiti culture, his unique perspective on Native and mainstream U.S. creative expression is especially compelling. Graffiti is deeply tied to New York City's urban environment, especially so in the '70s.
This muralist, street artist and clothing designer works primarily in Los Angeles, but his recent project in collaboration with the Minneapolis American Indian Center will be his largest.
Like so many American street artists, Henriquez and his work both reflect the passion and devotion to community. "L.A. is full of art, crime, justice, abuse and many other things like any other city, but this is where we live," he wrote on Facebook. "So make it a beautiful place!"
Red Star, Apsáalooke or Crow, creates photographs and mixed-media paintings that incorporate a level of satire, awareness, candor and even feminism that brings to mind Nan Goldin's unique portraiture, Cindy Sherman's repeated self-transformations and even Andy Warhol's commercial satire.
This questioning, reframing and even satirization of identity is essential to her work. Her commentary on Native rights and the perception that Native peoples are seen as a "people of the past," especially with progress.
"I use humor and wit as a way to break down the complexities of Native and U.S. history," Red Star told Mic. "I am able to make sense and plunge into the heart of the matter without feeling defeated before I even get a chance to process or experience. This approach also allows my viewers a gateway to approach some of the difficult subjects I want to discuss through my work."
Her work is beguiling, but don't be lulled by how attractive it is — it's deeply developed and deeply empathetic.
"The Native experience is a human experience in which everyone can relate. It is not just my history but your history, and together it is our history," she said.
Wilson, a Diné photographer who lived in the Navajo Nation, deals with a complicated issue: how cultural identity can be imposed rather than developed, defined through the lens of another.
Like Red Star, Wilson is also interested in how Native peoples are seen as a people of the past.
One of his most renowned projects, the Critical Indigenous Photographic Exchange, questions and expands upon the image of Native and Indigenous people popularized by photographer Edward Curtis. Wilson notes that Curtis' images are part of what makes Native people "frozen in time," he said in his artist's statement, which was adapted with permission for Mic.
Wilson's photographs "intend to resume the documentary mission of Curtis from the standpoint of a 21st century indigenous, trans-customary, cultural practitioner," according to his artist's statement. "I want to supplant Curtis' Settler gaze and the remarkable body of ethnographic material he compiled with a contemporary vision of Native North America ... These alone — rather than the old paradigm of assimilation — can form the basis for a reimagined vision of who we are as Native people."
Slick, who is Sauk, Fox and Winnebago, works mostly in monochromatic shades and shadows, like the moments before you open your eyes. His paintings, books and prints all share a kind of transience and elusiveness that draw the viewer close but not overwhelmingly close to the stories he tells.
Slick, like Red Star and Wilson, also is interested in this trapped-in-history understanding of Native peoples, in large part due to Curtis' images. These photographs, he told Mic, were part of a larger historical tragedy wherein Natives were placed "in a single grand narrative of history and representation." This sense of history, and the way that it influences the present, is central in Slick's work.
Slick said he was inspired by the "laughter of the coyote, the eternal trickster and ultimate survivor, saturated and filled our daily lives."
"His laughter is irreverent, and doesn't acknowledge the scale of the master narrative," Slick said. "It echoed through the lecture halls of histories and it was so powerful and it was so distracting that I forgot my place in linear time, and now I work from an untraceable present."
Longfish, a retired Seneca and Tuscarora painter, worked in primarily modernist and politically charged modes. His artwork is credited for leading the Native art movement and the emergence of Native contemporary artists. In his works, he questions the way we define our identity, interrogating those complex political, social, historical and psychological underpinnings.
"The more we are able to own our religious, spiritual, and survival information, and even language, the less we can be controlled," Longfish said in an exhibition statement with Molly McGlennen. "The greatest lesson we can learn is that we can bring our spirituality and warrior information from the past and use it in the present and see that it still works."
Jacobs, a Mohawk recipient of the Harpo Foundation's prestigious Native American Residency Fellowship, is one of the only artists on this list who works almost exclusively in one style: abstract metal sculpture. Her works are emotive and sharp, edged with knowledge and heavy with history — but they're not violent or threatening.
She uses contemporary alloyed materials, including steel and pewter, to question how cultures adapt to the art world, Jacobs told Mic. This use of steel is particularly layered with meaning; it references not only strength and resistance, but the weight of culture and the famed Mohawk Ironworkers.
When asked about the way her work reflects the relationship between Natives and the United States, Jacobs said, "There is such a complex relationship between Natives and the U.S. and I think that for survival we have to figure out how to adapt to a contemporary world without losing the essence of culture and meaning. This is one of the major ideas that I am exploring in my work."
Begay, Diné, is one of the most established artists on this list. He paints lyrical, pointilistic works, the dots of which "repeat like the words of a Navajo prayer," as described on his gallery's website.
Begay's work is widely accessible, and in some ways, it's even familiar. It has a gorgeously Impressionistic, even Expressionistic, sensibility. That said, its originality doesn't suffer from this comparison — rather, its beauty is enhanced.
That said, there are some darker historical shadows in his work. In Begay's biography, he has said he survived boarding school because he was able to draw on cultural and spiritual strength, and retreat into his drawings.
"'Arts save lives' has been my mantra ever since," Begay wrote. "Some people did not survive like me. They are walking traumas of my generation."
Artist, poet, performer, essayist, and American Indian Movement activist Jimmie Durham has lead an itinerant life, never settling in one medium or project, moving from his native Arkansas to New York, Mexico, Europe, and elsewhere. A Cherokee, Durham is concerned with Western preconceived notions and stereotyping of Native American Indians, so for him, an artistic practice is an alternative means of political activism. Through sculpture, performance, drawing, installation, and more, Durham tackles issues of national narratives, hegemony, and marginalized non-Western perspectives.
Stone—as it manifests in large chucks of rocks and pebbles alike—is a recurring subject in Durham’s work, as well as a channel by which to comment on art, power, and entropy. Using rocks to smash paint tubes and boulders to crush cars, Durham effectively points to complex social and political issues like the history of oppression, the traditional use of stone in sculpture, the fallacy of permanence, and the authority of nature.
Postcommodity is an interdisciplinary activist/arts collective consisting of Native American artists Kade L. Twist, Raven Chacon, and Cristóbal Martínez. You may recognize Postcommodity from the collective’s contribution to the Whitney Biennial earlier this year: a dizzying four-channel video sped up and slowed down in conjunction with sound, tracing the fences that line the US-Mexico border. The installation, titled A Very Long Line, demonstrates the "dehumanizing and polarizing constructs of nationalism and globalization through which borders and trade policies have been fabricated.” In their artists's statement, the collective writes "Postcommodity’s art functions as a shared Indigenous lens... to engage the assaultive manifestations of the global market and its supporting institutions, public perceptions, beliefs, and individual actions that comprise the ever-expanding, multinational, multiracial and multiethnic colonizing force that is defining the 21st Century through ever increasing velocities and complex forms of violence." Borders seem to be a recurring theme; Repellent Fence (2015), an ephemeral land-art installation comprised of 26 enlarged replicas of an ineffective bird-repellent balloon, hovered 50 feet above a two-mile long stretch of land connecting the US and Mexico. The group hopes to incite a constructive conversation about social, political, and economic forces that are destroying communities globally.
Teri Greeves (b. 1970), originally from the Wind River reservation in Wyoming, is known primarily for her use of the traditional Kiowa art of beading, which she learned from her grandmother. She writes that her grandmother expressed herself through beadwork, and despite working menial jobs as a dishwasher and a cleaner, she was always primarily an artist. Greeves has been working with beads since she was 8 years old, and for her, being an artist is about giving a voice to her ancestors before her. She writes, "I am compelled to do it... I have no choice in the matter. I must express myself and my experience as a 21st Century Kiowa and I do it, like all those unknown artists before me, through beadwork... and though my medium may be considered 'craft' or 'traditional,' my stories are from the same source as the voice running through that first Kiowa beadworker’s needles. It is the voice of my grandmothers." Greeves merges her cultural history with contemporary objects, as in the case of her tennis shoes series (shown above). She blends traditional geometric traditional Kiowa styles with figurative elements of the Shoshone, while also commenting on the derivation of American modernist abstraction from traditional Native American designs. Her figures are adorned with both traditional and contemporary clothing items, as a commentary on being a Native American woman in the modern world.
Matika Wilbur is a photographer and storyteller of the Tulalip and Swinomish Tribes. She has been traveling across the country for over 5 years, taking portrait photographs of Indian Tribes across the country to reclaim the Native American image, and to effectually change the way that Native Americans are represented. Wilbur has a background in fashion and commercial photography, and despite being very successful in her career, she knew in her heart that she had to use her voice to expose the diverse, unique individual personalities amidst America’s indigenous communities, who are too often either neglected or misrepresented. She began her portrait photo-series titled Project 562 in order to communicate the lives of neglected and/or misrepresented peoples. Her portraits capture a sense of intimacy and genuine raw emotion, likely because of Martika’s process. Her subjects choose where they want to be photographed, and Martika spends up to multiple days with them, bringing gifts and sharing songs and prayers. She seeks to bring the individual to life in her works, placing her photos side by side with text from the subject. She views herself as a “creator and messenger,” and her project is a form of re-education, offering a comprehensive visual curriculum of contemporary Native culture. She writes "while holding true to my heritage and tradition, I aim to empower contemporary visions. I believe that my work is the answered prayers of my ancestors, as I walk the path they fought to pave.” Wilbur has travelled to over 300 sovereign nations so far, and her photographs capture the vast diversity within and between indigenous communities.
Often described as the Pablo Picasso of pottery, Lucy M. Lewis began making pottery at the age of eight from her home in Acoma, New Mexico. Her use of fine lines shows a distinctive balance of craftsmanship, precision, and symmetry. Despite her proficiency and artistic prowess, Lewis had no formal education and was largely self-taught. She was invited to the White House in 1977 and maintains a permanent collection at the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C. Throughout her life and her work, Lewis received several distinguished awards including the New Mexico Governor’s Award for outstanding personal contribution, and recognition from the American Crafts Council College Art Association
Kananginak Pootoogook was a man truly among the elements of nature. Despite being a 20th century ink sculptor and printmaker he lived most of his early life traveling from igloos in the winter to sod homes in the summer. As a self-taught artist his work often recognizes the transition from traditional Native American life to modern existence. Pootoogook’s work also shows a clear oneness and appreciation for the link between man and nature. His prints reflect animals mimicking human-like qualities, and vice-versa, showing the equality of co-existence between man and beast. Among many other honors, an exhibition of his work was displayed at the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics.
The distinctive mixed media art of Juane Quick-to-Sea Smith is an embodiment of both her Native American culture and troubled childhood. Abandoned by her mother, Smith connects her personal challenges to the challenge of overcoming the myths and stereotypes of Native Americans. Each of her unique blends of painting, pictures, and text tell an individual story of personal adversity and the need to shatter the status quo. Her work is widely viewed at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C., the Whitney Museum, and the Museum of Modern Art. Among Smith’s many honors came her Lifetime Achievement Award from the Women’s Caucus for the Arts.
Widely considered one of the best Navajo tapestry weavers who ever lived, Julia Jumbo is well-known from her intricate designs coupled with the highest level of precision. Jumbo is best recognized for her use of the ‘daisy’ border, which was derived from a legendary weaver named Daisy Taugelchee. Her tapestries are finely crafted with the use of pin-straight lines and symmetrical patterns, surrounded by striking solid borders of both black and white. She used her talent for weaving as a means of overcoming her childhood struggles as well as a reflection of both personal and social order.
She certainly has a unique background indeed. Jane Ash Poitras was originally trained to be a microbiologist, yet felt her true calling was as a mixed media artist and painter. As part of the Dada movement (early 20th century avant-garde), Poitras sought her strength in depicting the origins of her Cree descent (largest group of Native Americans). Her work is best known for its prolific imagery of sacred Native American symbols like the eagle. Yet as a Christian, her work also contains a strong spiritual element which is evident in Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Poitras’ art is often seen as a challenge to the forced assimilation of aboriginal culture.
Partners both in life and in art, it is difficult to separate the works of Julian and Maria Martinez. Until the early 20th century the craft of black on black pottery was not known to have existed, dating back to the Neolithic period of Pueblo society. While Maria was the master potter, Julian became her artistic partner when he mastered the craft of painting pottery. Originally from Santa Fe, New Mexico, much of their early work was never signed, since they had little idea it would become so popular and renowned. Maria’s work has been exhibited at several world fairs, but as she was able to learn pottery from her aunt as a child, she sought to offer her knowledge to her children and others through funding by the National Endowment of the Arts in 1973.
One of the most influential, innovative, and talented Native American artists of the 20th-century, T.C. Cannon embodied the activism, cultural transition and creative expression that defined America in the 1960s and 1970s. Cannon’s work—as an artist, poet, and aspiring musician—is deeply personal yet undeniably political, reflecting his cultural heritage, experience as a Vietnam War veteran, and the turbulent social and political period during which he worked. Cannon preferred bold color combinations, mash-ups between Native and non-Native elements and never shied away from the complexity and nuance of identity politics. Cannon interrogated American history and popular culture through his Native lens, and exercised a rigorous mastery of Western art historical tropes while creating an entirely fresh visual vocabulary. T.C. Cannon: At the Edge of America celebrates Cannon’s creative range and artistic legacy through numerous paintings and works on paper, as well as his poetry and music