“How Do We All Take Part in Art?”
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Keith BraveHeart is an enrolled citizen of the Oglala Lakota Oyate and grew up in the community of Pejuta Haka (Medicine Root; Kyle, South Dakota). He attended the Oscar Howe Summer Art Institute at the University of South Dakota and was introduced to contemporary tribal fine arts. He graduated from the Institute of American Indian Arts in 2006 with a BFA, and received his MFA in 2018 from the University of South Dakota (USD).
Keith serves as art instructor for the Oglala Lakota College on the Pine Ridge Reservation, and is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellow.
Strokes of blues, a swirl of deep red, and the buffalo skull begins to form. Gathered in an art room, Keith leads youth, adults, and elders in painting buffalo head designs. Each individual’s multicolored piece is a unique expression of their creativity through 2D art. Once the designs are finished, Keith helps transfer them onto t-shirts for the participants to take home their art created during his “Buffalo Nation: Creating Community” project.
“This is about overcoming boundaries within the art world as far as, how do we all enjoy and take part in art?” Keith says. “I think it was something very much aligned with a tribal perspective, and definitely my Lakota perspective of how I view art. It’s not only individuals; it’s about everyone.”
Keith’s project is building community and breaking barriers in the art world, making it accessible. The first project collaboration took place in Minneapolis between Keith, the Native community, All My Relations Gallery, the Native American Community Development Institute, the Northern Spark Festival, the Oscar Howe Summer Art Institute at USD, and Minneapolis/St. Paul-based artists.
“With the art workshops, I’m trying to have the community understand that the intention is to uplift artists as being more than able to produce a commodity or an object,” he says. “These are people who are instilled with intergenerational knowledge.”
“Buffalo Nation: Creating Community” demonstrates a living practice of Lakota significance, and recognizes the “relative perspective” (Mitakuye Oyas’in) as a connector between art and community. Keith partnered with the Oglala Lakota College and several districts on the Pine Ridge Reservation, then expanded to Rapid City.
“I do feel motivated and inspired as an artist by my relatives and our cultural significance,” Keith says. “I live my life as an artist, instructor, student, and viewer. I see art in my community and as my identity, and I hold a responsibility in encouraging others to see it also.”
Sewing Traditional Regalia with a Contemporary Flare
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Set against the backdrop of a grove outside Gizhiigin Arts Incubator, Melissa Widner (White Earth) posed in her handcrafted ribbon skirt. The grove’s rich green grass and trees allowed the skirt’s vibrant colors — yellows, reds, blues — to pop during the sunny day on the White Earth Ojibwe Reservation in northwestern Minnesota this summer.
Melissa’s daughter, Courtney Olsen (Ojibwe), soon joined the fun with smiles and laughter. Courtney wore a ribbon skirt, as well, that she made.
Courtney and her sister, Megan Bunker Olson (Ojibwe), had nominated their mother, Melissa, for First Peoples Fund’s Jennifer Easton Community Spirit Award (CSA).
“Growing up I would attend ceremonies and pow wows with my mom,” Courtney says. “I didn’t realize how lucky I was that she would handcraft me and my sisters’ regalia and beadwork. She raised me with our traditional ways and has taught me so much, not only about regalia, but about beadwork, our Ojibwe language, ceremonies, pow wows, and our traditional foods.”
The CSA not only gave Courtney and Megan the opportunity to acknowledge their mother’s contributions to the community, but to have a moment to celebrate everything they had learned from her. Continuing to showcase their handcrafted ribbon skirts, Courtney and her mother posed for the event photographer, Roxanne Best (Confederated Tribe of the Colville Indian Reservation) who worked hard to capture the heart of Melissa’s art form — sewing for her community.
“I look at fabric, colors, styles, designs and immediately in my mind I put together a unique piece,” Melissa says. “I oftentimes get so inspired I sit for hours and days just sewing.”
She learned to sew from her grandmother, whose techniques and admonishments keep Melissa on the right path.
“My favorite materials are neons, bright patterns, and fun colors,” she says, “but in keeping with my grandmother’s teaching, I make sure the regalia I create also is traditional in cut, pattern, and style. My grandmother makes inward of 100 ceremonial quilts each year that are taken to our big drum ceremony in our village. Although I love the contemporary flair, my grandmother reminds me of the traditional side, and that I must incorporate these things into my work.”
After the photoshoot in the grove, Melissa and Courtney went inside Gizhiigin Arts Incubator where the CSA honoring was held. Roxanne took more shots with the family around the displays of Melissa’s fabric art pieces, and of the people gathered to celebrate Melissa.
“The honoring meant a lot because my community showed up,” Melissa says. “I’m usually a quiet type. Being up front and center is really not my thing, but I was honored.” Melissa’s colleagues, childhood friends, current students, and First Peoples Fund (FPF) staff sat in a circle in the open space. One of the youth, Opwaganse (Puggy) Goodwin, a close family friend, sang an honor song for Melissa. “
He’s doing so many great things in our community,” she says. “He’s an inspiring young leader.”
“It’s so nice to see our youth stepping up and being able to sing honoring songs and tribal songs,” Courtney says, “and participate in ceremony the way he does.”
After the honor song, people impacted by Melissa’s work began sharing stories and offering words of praise. Taught by her grandmother, Melissa has been sewing and beading for 30 years.
“Everyone that knows her knows they can reach out to her, and she will help them,” Courtney says. “She is efficient and selfless. I can genuinely say, as one of her seven children, that she has done everything she can for us, and our community. She is a true Anishinaabe woman.” Melissa teaches a weekly class alongside her sister, who is the Domestic Violence Culture Coordinator.
“As a Substance Abuse Prevention Specialist, I have incorporated regalia making for those in need, hurting, bored, learning, lost, and in recovery,” Melissa says. “I always try to have an elder in each class, and my grandmother often volunteers her time.”
One project very close to Melissa’s heart is the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) sewing class she started at Gizhiigin. While getting ready for an MMIW march one day, she sat down at her sewing machine to cut a new ribbon skirt.
"As I started sewing and cutting and creating this piece, I thought, ‘wow, this skirt is beautiful. What could I add to it to represent the MMIW?’” she explains. “I cut a tiny red dress appliqué piece out, sat and looked at it for a long time and finally stitched it on my skirt. The emotions were overwhelming.”
At the time, there was an MMIW exhibit in the gallery at Gizhiigin. On the last day of the exhibition, Melissa brought her skirt to show in a class. The emotional response launched the MMIW Skirt class she now teaches in addition to her other community work.
“We were really attracted to her commitment to community,” says Amber Hoy, First Peoples Fund’s Program Manager of Fellowships, who attended the honoring. “Melissa often referred to her grandmother, who couldn’t be there that day. She kept directing the conversation back to giving praise to and uplifting the elders who came before her.” The time came to wrap Melissa in her CSA star quilt. Melissa’s love of bright colors was incorporated into her custom-made quilt to celebrate her dedication.
“Community Spirit Awardees are the unsung heroes,” Amber says. “Younger kids might not recognize their importance. We’re traveling there to affirm the importance of their work, of keeping these ancestral traditions and practices alive.”
“I enjoyed hearing what everyone had to say about my mom,” Courtney says. “I’ve known her my whole life as my mom, but to hear how other people view her and how they have such high opinions of her was special. It was so nice to see all that love coming from different directions.”
From Stumbling Over Words to Becoming a Grammy Award Winning Singer
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Kalani Pe’a (Native Hawaiian) writes, arranges, and produces Hawaiian, Contemporary, and Soul music. He won his second Grammy® at the 61st Annual Grammy® Awards for Best Regional Roots Music Album. He is also an illustrator and has published five Hawaiian language children stories for immersion programs statewide under the direction of the Hale Kuamo’o Hawaiian Language Center at the University of Hawai’i at Hilo.
Kalani has a B.A. in Public Relations/News Editorial from Colorado Mesa University and took M.A. courses in Early Childhood Education. He uses his college degree as an independent music owner. His 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellowship helped support his recent “Music For The Soul Tour” which included Portland, Eugene, Berkeley, Folsom, Flagstaff, Phoenix, and Irvine.
Between Kalani’s parents and the mall’s security guard looking for the lost four-year-old, it wasn’t long before they found Kalani standing in front of a mannequin, serenading it.
His parents were shocked. Kalani — a child diagnosed with a severe speech impediment — was standing there singing out words clearly. Kalani’s parents immediately recognized the importance of music in his life.
“My dad came from a musical family,” he says. “My mom introduced new music material for me to learn while getting vocal training. They saw me compose music at age ten and noticed my stammering and stuttering stopped. Music helped me enunciate and emphasize words and phrases.”
Kalani entered and won numerous talent and karaoke competitions from age eight throughout his college career, singing in choirs to now taking his music around the world.
“Music and singing saved my life,” he says. His family spoke their native language at home. Kalani and his siblings attended Ke Kula ’o Nawahiokalani’opu’u, an immersion school where every subject was taught in Hawaiian. His original songs consist of music composed in Hawaiian.
Kalani shares his art internationally, selling out shows in Hawai’i, the U.S., and Japan.
“Hawaiian music defines and describes my people, providing the listener knowledge of where we come from, how we think in a Hawaiian perspective and how we live day to day as people of our land,” he says. Kalani is passing on the gift of language and music to youth, hoping it impacts their lives as it did his.
“You can sing R&B, opera, rock-n-roll, or rap in the Hawaiian language. It’s possible while maintaining your cultural values and practices. My long-term goal is to encourage every young child to feel that Hawaiian music tells their story.”
Leaving Footprints for Others to Follow
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Maile Andrade (Native Hawaiian) is a multi-media artist and holds a Master of Fine Arts degree from the University of Hawai’i-Månoa. She has participated in several Indigenous Symposiums/Gatherings in New Zealand, Tahiti, and the Longhouse in Evergreen State College, Washington. Maile has been an artist-in-resident in New Zealand, at the Alaska Heritage Center, and SAR School for Advanced Research, in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She serves as an Affiliate Researcher at Bishop Museum and has presented all over the world.
In the art classroom, Maile breaks chunks of alaea — dry red clay — into smaller and smaller pieces, then crushes it to powder. Adding water, she uses a brush and mixes it into a thick paste. She dips a bamboo stem in the mixture, taps away the excess, and presses it on the kapa (bark cloth). By repeating this over and over, she creates a design.
From a young age, Maile’s parents recognized her talent as an artist. It was how she saw the world, how she expressed herself. Over decades of practice, she mastered multiple disciplines and is now finding herself in the position of being the older generation, the one who holds all this knowledge. She shares it as a professor at Kamakakukalani Center for Hawaiian Studies at the University of Hawai’i-Månoa, where she teaches in a Native Hawaiian Creative Expression Program.
But if she walks away, who will pass on Hawaiian arts to the next generation?
There is currently no one to take Maile’s place when she retires, no one to give clear direction in running the fiber arts classes.
“I created these classes, and enrollment is high,” she says. “That tells me it’s important, the students want it. I have several people I’ve been training who are the next-generation down. But I find that, while they understand it, they can’t facilitate a bigger discussion around the cultural aspect because they lack a broader base.”
The generation above Maile is gone; the one coming behind her hasn’t mastered all the arts. But rather than despair, she is using her 2019 Cultural Capital Fellowship from First Peoples Fund to create a solution.
Maile is reaching out to others with her level of knowledge to record what they learned, as she did when she apprenticed with a master weaver in 1989. She is creating workshop curriculum, training young weavers, making sample weaving patterns for use in future instruction, and documenting the designs and patterns of master weavers for a database, or possibly a book.
“There are different master weavers, and I want to honor the lineage of each,” she says. “A lot of young weavers don’t see the differences in the detail, but hopefully as they gain experience, they will see the subtleties in the masters.”
When Maile does walk away, she wants to leave clear footprints for others to follow.
From Pop Up Markets to Hockey Stadiums – Growing the Arts Ecosystem in White Earth
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
“Go talk to Joe.” This is a common phrase in the community on the White Earth Ojibwe Reservation in northwestern Minnesota.
“Joe” is Joseph Allen (Lakota/Ojibwe), project coordinator for the Gizhiigin Arts Incubator. Gizhiigin (“grow fast”) is a project of the White Earth Reservation Tribal Council’s Economic Development Division. Gizhiigin is also the recipient of a 2019 Indigenous Arts Ecology Grant from First Peoples Fund. They work with culture bearers in their community to foster growth, promote local artists, assist with skill development and marketplace goals, and provide artists with space and resources for entrepreneurial development.
When emerging artists are starting out, they are often referred to Joe and the Gizhiigin Arts Incubator. Whether a phone call, text, or Facebook message, Joe is always open to coaching artists. “
We assist them with their careers,” Joe says. “We help them take photos of their work and teach them how to take photos of it, and connect them with markets or opportunities for exhibitions.”
One such artist is Rick Kagigebi (Lac Courte Oreilles Band of Lake Superior Ojibwe), who makes ceremonial star quilts and other blankets. He never viewed his creations as art, they were just something that he did.
In the small community of 1,500 people, where everyone knows everyone, Joe was familiar with Rick and his wife’s art. Penny Kagigibi (White Earth) is a talented birch bark and quill box maker. One of her quill boxes was exhibited in the Anishinaabe Arts Initiative Grant Recipients exhibition Gizhiigin hosted. The couple works together in their art mediums.
“They are getting close to retirement age, and they want to do this full-time,” Joe says. “Rick is starting to sell now. He’s learning to make things for market, going through that process of deciding what it is you’re going to sell and what you’re not going to sell.”
Through Gizhiigin, Rick connected with galleries and is now exhibiting regionally. He recently won best in show in a juried art show at the Watermark Art Center in Bemidji, Minnesota, and is gaining recognition as an artist — publicly and for himself.
Indigenous Arts Ecology Projects Growing Fast
Joe is the project coordinator for the 2019 Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) grant from First Peoples Fund. He was a First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellow in 2012 and has stayed connected to First Peoples Fund’s work over the years. After reading First Peoples Fund’s 2018 report, Investing in the Indigenous Arts Ecology , Joseph urged his community to deepen their work with artists and helped completely change the local strategy for economic growth.
Now, using the IAE grant, Gizhiigin is helping materialize the tangible elements of that strategy. Joe has spent this year creating new market opportunities for artists in his area. They began holding pop up markets inside Gizhiigin on the first Saturday of every month. Young artists exhibit their beadwork, paintings, star quilts, and baby quilts.
Joe is also developing relationships with businesses that want to buy from Native artists. One of these is the Sanford Center, a 4,700-seat multi-purpose arena and convention center located in Bemidji. Home of Bemidji State University hockey, the center is purchasing Native art for halls of the venue concourse areas and outside their suites. The presence of Native art in such a high-traffic public space is raising awareness of Native arts and helping overcome one of the greatest challenges for artists in the region.
“The biggest issue right now is lack of knowledge of Indigenous art in the art buying market,” Joe says. “Indigenous art is not commonly recognized as part of Minnesota.”
Without public support and awareness, Native artists struggle to keep their art forms in practice.
“With the lack of a viable market, the quality of the art has diminished,” Joe explains. “Things are getting lost because artists can’t make a living. We’re trying to revive those arts, but there has to be someplace where they can make money. Teaching these traditions is where a lot of our artists are supplementing their income. We try to connect the artists to organizations that want traditional artists to come in and teach.”
Gizhiigin also regularly hosts classes and open studios. Last fall, they focused on black ash basket making, and have noticed interest in these kinds of classes increasing. One of the students was mentored by 2000 First Peoples Fund Community Spirit Awards recipient Clyde Estey, Jr. (Minnesota Chippewa) in Gizhiigin’s Traditional Arts Mentorship program.
That student is now an instructor. 22-year old Courtney Olsen (Ojibwe), a recent graduate of the White Earth Tribal and Community College, was the lead artist in Gizhiigin’s Black Ash Basketry Open Studio Lab.
“The next generation is already teaching,” Joe says. Courtney is long familiar with her people’s art, being upheld by her grandmother and also her mother, Melissa Widner (White Earth). Courtney nominated her mother for the 2019 First Peoples Fund Community Spirit Awards. Melissa’s honoring was held at Gizhiigin, where she teaches sewing classes.
Making Space for Artists in the World of Finance
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Making space for artists in conversations about Native Community Development Financial Institutions (CDFI) and capacity building for communities nationwide, First Peoples Fund was excited to take part in the 4th Annual Native CDFI Capital Access Convening. Tosa Two Heart (Oglala Lakota), First Peoples Fund Program Manager of Community Development, presented reports and models from our Indigenous Arts Ecology program at the convening as part of a panel of presenters that included Vicky Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian), Duncan Ka’ohu Seto (Native Hawaiian), and Liz Takamori (Native Hawaiian).
Facilitated by First Nations Oweesta Corporation, a longtime First Peoples Fund (FPF) partner, the Native CDFI Capital Access Convening brought together stakeholders who share a commitment to the financial and cultural well-being of Indian Country. As a convening specifically for Native institutions, attendees were able to find shared experiences, brainstorm solutions relevant to their communities and build meaningful networks with one another. The First Peoples Fund panel was able to pull-in the importance of recognizing the presence and importance of art in Indigenous communities in a way that was relevant to the future of Native CDFIs.
“Art and culture are so ingrained with everything we’re doing and what Native CDFIs are doing, but to recognize it is essential,” Tosa says. “I’m hoping our presentation inspired that with the CDFIs. I’m so thankful to Oweesta for giving us that space and opportunity to share.”
After Tosa finished her part in the session — “Investing in Indigenous Arts Ecology” — she turned the platform over to a panel featuring individuals from the PAʻI Foundation. The foundation has a deep shared history with First Peoples Fund and is currently a 2019-2020 Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) grantee.
Duncan Kaʻohu Seto (Native Hawaiian), a master artist and a certified FPF Native Artist Professional Development (NAPD) trainer, brought his artist perspective to the discussion.
“We used the metaphor of weaving,” Kaʻohu says. “First Peoples Fund was one strand of fiber, PAʻI another, and then myself, and we are all intertwined.”
PAʻI Executive Director Victoria (Vicky) Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian) emphasized how artists are activists and change-makers, as well as preservationists. She connects artists with CDFIs, helping both parties understand how their work benefits the local community. Often, artists do not realize how a small loan can propel their business forward.
“I don’t think that our community really engages with our CDFI here in Hawaii for the kind of support they need to continue their practice,” Vicky says. “That’s one of the things we need to do in reaching out to artists and cultural practitioners.”
On the flip side, Native CDFIs are often unaware of the critical role artists play in the economy. Artists are at the forefront of perpetuating Native traditions and lifeways, yet they are overlooked regarding how much of their work is essential to sustaining their communities.
“CDFIs need to figure out how they can work with the artists a little closer,” Vicky says, “and how they can support the artists or really, the activists, in helping to protect our natural and cultural resources that are so vital to our survival.”
As shown in our 2013 market study ( Establishing a Creative Economy: Art as an Economic Engine in Native Communities ), artists need access to six resources to succeed and continue practicing their art. Native CDFIs are a massive component in this, meeting some of those needs for art markets, capacity building, capital, credit, and access to supplies in creative ways. Those investments drive change and make a sustainable difference in Indian Country.
“I presented our data highlights regarding the Indigenous Arts Ecology report and talked about how it would benefit Native CDFIs to invest in artists,” Tosa says. “It’s important to invest in relationships with the artists.”
“We’re so different, arts and finances, it’s unusual to have an artist who is well rounded in both,” Kaʻohu says. “Besides creating artwork, to be able to see the financial part of it. CDFIs can help artists get help if we need more materials, if a photographer needs a new camera. If you could just get a loan from a CDFI, it can help you out with canvas, paint, new chisels, things like that.”
Several FPF Indigenous Arts Ecology grantees also attended the convening, including Four Bands Community Fund, Native American Community Development Corporation, and Lakota Funds. These Native CDFIs have long recognized the value of reaching out to Native artists. They work to get artists bankable, offer business training, and create new markets for them to showcase their work. Over the years, these Native CDFIs have invested resources, time, and energy in developing artists in their communities.
Amidst the financial sessions at the convening was a time to engage in traditional Native Hawaiian weaving with weavers from Nā Mea Hawai’i, a community-centered organization. CDFI participants gathered to weave a “memory mat” and continue discussions.
“There’s a saying in Hawai’i that you can hear, but you can still work with your hands,” Kaʻohu says.
In a unique way, having those weavers take part in the financial convening summed up the conversation we wanted to bring. In the world of small loans and credit lines, artists should be recognized as a source of economics and community wealth building.
“We’ve always invited our CDFI to provide training for our financial literacy classes,” Vicky says. “That was twofold — doing financial literacy training, but also provide an opportunity to introduce the CDFI and their services to our artists. We are trying to encourage the CDFIs to get their message out, and to share how they can be supportive of the work that the artists are doing.”
Unbroken Beauty
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Addison Karl (Chickasaw Nation, Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma) is a contemporary artist. His work manifests itself in drawing, painting, and sculpture in exhibitions, public art, lectures, and installation. His art projects have found their way to Hong Kong, Pakistan, Mexico, Malaysia, Japan, Israel, Russia, the United States, and Europe.
Support from Addison’s 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership grant is helping him tell the Chickasaw story in a visual narrative. He resides in Bremerton, Washington.
Strength and beauty broke forth as Addison hammered away the ceramic shell surrounding his bronze sculpture of Mary Shackleford (Chickasaw Nation). Posed in traditional Chickasaw dress, Mary sat with folded hands, her expression one of calm determination. The sculpture of her had emerged from the fiery heat, enduring to the moment where it rested among the shattered pieces of ceramic, a symbol of perseverance, tenacity, and hope.
When Addison visited Oklahoma in 2017 for the Chickasaw Nation Annual Meeting and Festival, he captured the realness of people like Mary for his Heritage Preservation Sculptures project. From linguists and stomp dancers to storytellers and elders, he gathered reference material for his current focus of sculpture combined with heritage preservation. Addison is expanding his abilities as an artist to bronze sculpting, a strong material that represents the unconquerable spirit of the Chickasaw people.
Addison’s first attempts at 3D art were a learning process. He created a mold with plaster of Paris and sent it in the mail, only to have it arrive in crumbs. He needed to find something to withstand any journey.
“That’s where the bronze comes into play,” he says. “Thankfully, First Peoples Fund saw the benefit of this narrative in personal storytelling and using a material that has longevity to it. The cool aspect of this is, I’m learning so much throughout the process. Mary Shackleford is only my third sculpture in bronze. This is all brand new.”
Addison’s first translation into bronze was “Kamassa” (elder), an Oklahoma Chickasaw man whose quiet demeanor and tranquility shows in the gentle lines etched on his face.
The statue was durable enough for the journey to Munich, where it was on display before Addison brought it back to the U.S. and into the home of a private collector.
Addison has traveled worldwide with his work as he attempts to expand viewers’ understanding of the context, structures, and surfaces that his art inhabits. He will continue to create pieces like Mary Shackleford that symbolize rising out of brokenness.
“As for many tribal members, creating is a means of honoring our ancestors and passing down cultural values from one generation to the next,” he says. “It’s an important factor in turning the past’s hardships and wounds into something beautiful.”
Taking Artist Professional Development to the Next Level
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
“Is this upside down?” When new artists enter a gallery or marketplace to submit their work for display, the bare essentials often are not there. Victoria (Vicky) Holt Takamine (Native Hawaiian), executive director of the PAʻI Foundation, has experienced this time and again — art pieces with no bio, no frame, and no way to hang it. Is there a down or up side? Most importantly, what is the story of the piece so the gallery can sell it?
Getting artists market-ready is a dominant component in PAʻI’s work with Native Hawaiian artists. For their 2019 First Peoples Fund Indigenous Arts Ecology program, they are preparing artists for the opening of the new 6,000 square foot PAʻI Arts Gallery & Performing Arts Center on O’ahu, and also the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts & Culture taking place June 2020 in Honolulu.
PAʻI Foundation was established in 2001 as the nonprofit organization of Pua Aliʻi ʻIlima, a hālau hula (school of Hawaiian dance) founded in 1977 by kumu hula (master teacher of Hawaiian dance), Vicky.
PAʻI works with 200 Native Hawaiian artists. They selected 12 to focus on with the Indigenous Arts Ecology (IAE) program to provide advanced professional development training through specialized workshops in financial literacy, marketing, portfolio development, curatorial skills, gallery relationship management, and art installation and prep techniques. With the First Peoples Fund Native Artist Professional Development (NAPD) training and practical experience at smaller markets, PAʻI is raising up professional artists who are passionate about preserving and perpetuating their culture. They found a long term ally in this mission with First Peoples Fund (FPF).
In 2005, Vicky encountered FPF President Lori Pourier (Oglala Lakota) at a gathering held by Ford Foundation in support of Native art organizations.
“We had so much in common,” Vicky says, “but this has been 14 years of building relationships and trust as well as supporting each other. I’ve looked at Lori and First Peoples Fund as a mentor for PAʻI, connecting us with other art organizations. We’ve done collaboratives and worked with each other. One of the things that PAʻI did was First Peoples Fund NAPD training. Our first was around 2010. We immediately recognized this was a program we could use in our communities.’”
Knowing they couldn’t afford to fly FPF trainers to Hawai’i regularly for their hundreds of practicing artists, PAʻI partnered with FPF to train their own artists to teach the NAPD. This evolved into FPF bringing Hawai’i trainers to conduct trainings throughout the country.
“First Peoples Fund trained our own people as well as worked with them to travel and teach,” Vicky says. “Our artists would never have had those kinds of experiences otherwise. Coming back from that, the dedication and motivation the trainers have to work with the community and on their own artwork is wonderful. We have several brand new artists being mentored by the trainers. Those are the takeaways from the experiences we’ve had, and the impact First Peoples Fund has had on our community. The artists benefit from all those experiences.”
Gearing up for the 13th Festival of Pacific Arts & Culture in 2020, the NAPD curriculum will help prep artists for the 10-day show. Vicky knows the popularity of authentic Native art will make it challenging to keep it in stock.
“Most of the artists have a day job,” she says. “We’re trying to figure out who will be in the marketplace booth and how big of a space we can manage. That is part of our Indigenous Arts Ecology grant, to provide a space for artists to demonstrate and sell their work.”
Another part of the preparation is practicing at markets and local galleries. It is an opportunity for artists to expand their networks, increase sales in a professional environment while they learn things like pricing, displays, and how to tell their stories.
“With our Indigenous Arts Ecology program, we want to look at next-level development –– to work with those artists that have come to the first training session, and develop a second, higher level,” Vicky explains. “We want to make sure their bios are done and take a close look at their portfolios. Not just do the training and walk away, but follow up with the artists to see how they’ve improved, where they are in their career as artists, and what their needs are for the next level.”
The other major component of PAʻI’s Indigenous Arts Ecology program is the artspace —PAʻI Arts Gallery & Performing Arts Center — under construction on O’ahu. PAʻI is busy preparing artists for the new gallery space as they look toward a January 2020 opening.
“We want to make sure our Indigenous Arts Ecology artists can submit artwork,” Vicky says. “I’m hoping to get some of theirs installed in our art gallery when it opens. That’s our ultimate goal, that the artists we work with will be part of the exhibit in our new space. And then moving forward, we’re hoping to plan artist talks and demonstrations.”
Over the years, PAʻI has witnessed the growth of new artists as master artists come alongside them. Through the FPF NAPD training, these up and coming artists learn how to display their art, price it, and what things they need to bring when approaching a gallery.
“First Peoples Fund has been very generous,” Vicky says. “Generosity is one of PAʻI’s core values as well. Our missions align in our support for our Native peoples, and that is what’s been so great about the work we’ve been able to do with First Peoples Fund.”
Passing Down Ancestral Knowledge Through Theater
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Kenny Ramos (Barona Band of Mission Indians) is a theater artist and storyteller. His artistic experience covers acting in American Indian-written theater productions at professional regional theater companies including Cornerstone Theater Company, Oregon Shakespeare Festival, The Rose Theater, Native Voices at the Autry, and the Kennedy Center.
Kenny has facilitated theater workshops with urban Native youth at the Annual American Indian Youth Conference at UCLA and with urban Native youth at the San Diego American Indian Health Center.
He is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellow and resides in Lakeside, California.
Applause resounded as Kenny walked on stage in his role as an all-star Pueblo basketball player. In the audience, he saw the faces of his elders there, beaming with pride. The Barona Circle of Elders had traveled to Los Angeles to watch Kenny’s performance in “Bingo Hall,” written by Dillon Chitto (Mississippi Choctaw/Laguna & Isleta Pueblos).
“I felt extremely honored to share my art and perform for them,” he says. “The memory of that performance will always remain near and dear to my heart.”
In 2017, after moving back home to the Barona Indian Reservation, Kenny started regularly volunteering with elders. Reconnecting with them, hearing their stories, and learning his Native language through classes helped Kenny understand the responsibilities of being a culture bearer for his people.
“As a culture bearer, my development is centered on my lived experiences as a Diuegueño Iipay/Kumeyaay ‘iikwich (man) and on my growing understanding of my culture and language,” he says. “My experiences growing up on the reservation and being raised among my tribal community have instilled in me a deep sense of self and a strong connection to my people. I know who I am and where I come from.”
As he travels to communities across the country — Arizona, South Dakota, Nebraska, Alaska, and more — Kenny holds workshops where he instructs young Native performing artists in telling their stories through theater.
He is also encouraging other performing artists he knows or meets along his travels to apply for First Peoples Fund Fellowships or attend one of our Native Artist Professional Development Trainings. Often he finds that these Native artists are deeply connected to their communities and work from their heart, taking the intentions of their work beyond the accolades of the stage.
“That’s what my mission is about — to use theater to have a positive impact for Native communities internally, but also externally,” he says. “How do we use theater to empower and heal communities?”
This is Kenny’s heart in whatever community he brings his work to, with the teaching of his elders keeping him grounded wherever he goes.
Dream Warriors Use Performance-Based Art to Create Pathways for Youth to Heal
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Dream Warriors is the subject of a video story First Peoples Fund has created with funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. There will be an accompanying official written component for this video story. This video study is one of three focusing on how performing arts is creating healing pathways for Native youth into performing arts-based enterprises. These are rooted in traditional culture, knowledge, and values through performing arts, allowing them to reclaim, reconnect, and revitalize themselves and their culture in their communities.
First Peoples Fund Video Story: Dream Warriors
ABOUT THE WORK OF DREAM WARRIORS: A STORY FROM THE DREAM WARRIORS FAMILY
“I just got out of the hospital after trying to commit suicide.”
This is what one youth in Oklahoma shared with the five Indigenous members of Dream Warriors after one of their shows on their “Heal It” tour. During three days in Oklahoma, they played six shows. It was exhausting for Tanaya Winder (Duckwater Shoshone Tribe), Frank Waln (Sicangu Lakota), Lyla June (Diné / Cheyenne), Paul Wenell Jr. (“Tall Paul,” Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe), and Mic Jordan (Ojibwe), but stories the youth share remind them of the reason they are on the road.
“Our Native youth struggle with coping mechanisms to heal their traumas,” Tanaya says. She is a spoken word poet, founder of Dream Warriors Management, and 2017 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership (ABL) Fellow. “Without healthy methods of processing their mental and emotional needs, their lives are at stake.”
The youth who came up after a concert filled with voices, guitar, and drum told the Dream Warriors how her life was changed by hearing how they had overcome painful experiences in their lives. She was happy to be there to hear their stories after her own painful experience.
Frank had stickers in his bag, which he signed and gave to her and other youth with a message: “When you guys are having a hard time, pull these out and think about today –– think about this conversation because you matter to us. We’re doing this because you guys are special to us and we know what you’re going through.”
Frank, a two-time First Peoples Fund (FPF) ABL Fellow and hip-hop artist, intimately understands the struggles of youth and performs his original songs for healing. He launched the hashtag #healit after youth started telling him that with his music, he “killed it.” The Dream Warriors felt a better description of their work was performing to “heal it.”
“I feel really blessed individually as an artist because everywhere I go, every show I do, a young Native person comes up to me and tells me that my music changed their life,” he says.
The Dream Warriors mission is to embody, teach, and live their heartwork by providing a range of multi-faceted services around performance art and arts-based education to communities throughout Turtle Island. They define a Dream Warrior as someone who uses their passion, dream, or gift to provide for their loved ones and community while understanding the responsibility in using the gifts he/she has been given. Dream Warriors seek to empower others to tell their stories through art. By providing arts-based education and pedagogy as well as performances to community members, youth, and teachers, they hope to help those they serve find healthy outlets to address historical and present-day traumas.
Ultimately, their goal is to help communities heal.
Last year, one of the Dream Warriors, Lyla June, a public speaker, poet, hip-hop artist, and acoustic singer-songwriter, had the idea to reach out to Native boarding schools. Combined with Frank’s Heal It hashtag, Tanaya decided they could bring it all together for a tour. Dream Warriors received a 2018 Our Nations’ Spaces grant through First Peoples Fund to help support the tour.
The Dream Warriors impacted communities as individuals and collectively. Their stories and styles twine together to touch youth of all backgrounds and pain — cycles of drug and alcohol abuse, sexual assault, and historical trauma.
“All of us have broken those cycles,” Lyla says. “What we try to do through our music is to help kids understand they are beautiful Indigenous people and to never, ever think less of themselves than that.”
“I always tell them I share these hardships about my life not to be a tearjerker, but to let people know where I’ve come from and what I’ve experienced in life,” says Paul, a 2018 ABL Fellow. He often brings the power of Native language into his songs.
“They can see me right here in person,” he adds. “Here I am, far away from home, doing things that I love to do. If we can do it, you can do it too.”
The artists expressed how they’ve grown individually in their artistry by being together, learning from one another. But their collaboration takes it a step further. “We’re not just individual artists anymore,” Mic says. “We’re like a family. No egos are there when we do what we do. It’s all togetherness, and we wanted to prove that it’s a beautiful thing to just heal together, and also to get together as a team and build something.”
In 2017, Mic used his First Peoples Fund ABL fellowship to expand on his #DearNativeYouth project.
“All it takes is one moment of inspiration to change the course of a young Indigenous person’s life,” Tanaya says. “Each of the Dream Warriors has our own story of how music, how poetry, how art has helped us heal. If we can help youth find healing pathways towards empowerment by sharing our journeys, we can help heal our people.”
Dream Warriors has taken on not only a national identity but one that will last well beyond this clip of time they are together.
“We are the new ancestors,” Mic says. “We are the ones who our children and grandchildren are going to look up to in the stars. They’re all going through the same thing. It’s not us trying to help them heal, it’s all of us healing together.”
Woven into the Fabric of Diné Culture
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Darby Raymond-Overstreet (Diné) is a digital artist and printmaker. She received her B.A.s in Psychology and Studio Art and graduated with Honors from Dartmouth College in Hanover, New Hampshire in 2016. During her first time at the Santa Fe Indian Market (SWAIA) in 2018, she won multiple awards and received exposure in the Albuquerque Journal and Santa Fe New Mexican.
Darby is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Artist in Business Leadership Fellow and resides in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Darby sits with her portrait subject on their couch, going through photo albums as they tell the stories behind each photo they show her.
Those moments of sitting there with the person she is going to create a portrait of, reliving the experiences that have shaped their life gives Darby a feel for what she is going to create. Every portrait she does incorporates intentional, meaningful patterns. After careful consideration, she selects one of the photos. Based on the person’s personality, and inspired by Navajo weavers in the late 1880s-1950s, Darby chooses a rug pattern.
“I really respect weavers’ artistic integrity and their fortitude and resilience through hardship,” she says. “If not for their efforts, it may be that some of the people today would not have been woven into the cultural fabric that is Diné.”
Darby finds patterns in books, collections, museums, and sometimes from her own family, then scans the design and drops it into her digital program. It becomes an endless pattern.
Using digital tools, Darby overlays the photo and rug pattern, meticulously designing and interweaving them. When finished, she prints the portrait on canvas with archival inks and uses churro yarn to attach it to a traditional weaving loom she built. The entire process of creating a one of a kind portrait wall hanging takes up to 40 hours.
“The technique is something I came up with my senior year at college,” she says. “My professors were trying to get me to talk about the concept of creating pattern portraits, and the loom was a great way to put the idea out there of being woven into a culture, a society, an identity, and to have it really accessible to an audience.”
“Interwoven” is a piece Darby created from a photo of her mother and herself, enhanced with turquoise stone and mother of pearl inlay.
“Through the time we spent being nourished in her womb, we are interwoven,” she says. As part of her landscape series, Darby is using funds from FPF to travel and capture photos of sites important to her people.
“My efforts are to not only celebrate my Diné identity and heritage,” she says, “but to educate and give perspective on the history and relationship that the art of weaving has with my ancestors, current generations, and the history and landscape of the Southwest.”
Ancestral Lands, Ancient Traditions
By Sarah Elisabeth Sawyer (Choctaw Nation), Artist in Business Leadership Fellow 2015
Deborah A. Jojola (Isleta Pueblo, Jemez Pueblo) is an expert in a variety of mediums — painting, frescos, printmaking, ceramics, and bookmaking, with a special interest in the process of lithography. She has shown her artwork at the Santa Fe Indian Market (SWAIA) for over 25 years and served as curator of exhibitions at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center in Albuquerque. As an artist, she has worked nationally and internationally in Hawai’i, Canada, Russia, and Japan.
Deborah is a 2019 First Peoples Fund Cultural Capital Fellow and resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
As Deborah reaches in for a scoop of plaster from the bucket, the feel and smell of damp earth brings her a sense of comfort and purpose. She makes plaster from soil she gathers in cultivated fields. After sifting it clean, she adds ash and distilled water.
Most of her mason board panels, which she makes herself, represents tablitas, a traditional Pueblo headdress worn during ceremonies by men and women. Spreading the plaster thinly on the panel boards, she’ll add willows, shells and turquoise stones to create the traditional fresco wall hanging.
Ever since she was young, working with mud has fascinated Deborah. She helped her aunties, in Jemez Pueblo, plaster their adobe homes. That was when she knew she was an artist.
“My mother and Auntie from Jemez Pueblo share memories or reflections of their youth,” Deborah says, “learning from our grandmothers and grandfathers no longer with us about old ways and the understanding of ‘why’ we still continue to keep these traditions.”
Deborah recently received an Artist in Residence at Mesa Verde Historical Site. Living in a hogan, she pursued and researched the environment, soils, minerals, and art forms as she walked the trails of her ancestral lands.
“Literally walking in their footsteps, climbing the ladders to cliff alcoves and cliff dwellings once occupied by many Native families, it became my personal pilgrimage,” she says. “It was very powerful and enlightening. They worked together as a community, there was no I or me. It was we and us.”
With few elders who retain the knowledge of how to make frescoes, Deborah’s role in the community becomes more critical each year.
“My purpose in life is within my artwork, using my art to speak to my people, to teach and to revive a technique that will be lost if not learned and practiced,” she says. “It is critical that art, culture, and ancestral knowledge is passed on from one generation to the next.”
Note: Deborah’s Cultural Capital fellowship was funded through your generous donations during our 2018 Giving Tuesday event. We appreciate everything you do in supporting culture bearers like Deborah. She truly embodies every aspect of how the fellowship is used by Native artists who are committed to carrying on their community’s traditions.