Detail from a Ho-Chunk bandolier bag.
In a dimly lit gallery in the School of Human Ecology on the UW-Madison campus sit three cases draped with linen. Beneath the coverings are funerary objects taken from Indigenous resting places — swatches of handmade cloth and bags that were meant to be used by the dead in the next world.
These pieces from the exhibit Intersections: Indigenous Textiles of the Americas, made of plants and animals native to their regions in forms symbolic to their cultures, are respectfully protected from the casual gaze. The curators wanted to give visitors — Native and non — a choice in seeing the funerary materials. Though each Indigenous community has cultural protocols around the objects, few museums offer a disclaimer when the sacred pieces are displayed.
“This was an opportunity to show the public how much of a faux pas it [can be] for Native people to be around burial objects,” says co-curator Kendra Greendeer, who is Ho-Chunk. Greendeer is a first-year doctoral student in art history with a focus on contemporary Native American art.
On display through Dec. 6 in the Lynn Mecklenburg Textile Gallery, the exhibit showcases select textiles from the Ho-Chunk arts organization the Little Eagle Arts Foundation, and the Helen Louise Allen Textile Collection, which is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. The pieces, many on display for the first time and from such places as Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Mexico and Wisconsin, date from before Indigenous contact with Europeans to the modern day. An opening reception is scheduled for 5-7 p.m. on Sept. 19.
“Many museums tend to categorize Native objects by region or material, and there’s not really a deep understanding of why Native objects are special in these communities,” says co-curator Dakota Mace, an artist of Diné (Navajo) descent pursuing a master’s degree in fine arts in design studies. “We wanted to highlight the histories and the narratives that are associated with them.”
Mace and Greendeer categorized the textiles — from blankets and bags to clothing and rugs — by themes that are common among Native communities — “Ancestors,” “Motion,” “Stories,” “Water” and “Lifeways.”
Pieces in the “Ancestors” category illustrate the ways cultural practices and knowledge are passed down through generations and across tribes, regions and eras. One example is the “eye dazzler,” a triangular motif used in Navajo weavings and found across Indigenous groups.
“[The eye dazzler] has a very long and complicated history and we don’t really know the origin,” Mace says. “Not one of us claims that design because we believe that it’s intended to be shared with others.”
Details of a uniquely two-sided woven cornhusk bag (most were one-sided), also known as a “flat twined bag.”
The design is spectacular, with concentric diamond shapes in contrasting patterns and colors creating an effect of movement or shimmering. It shows up in textiles like a 19th century cotton and wool Saltillo blanket from Mexico. The blanket, named for the place where it was produced, was made by the descendants of the Aztecs who relocated after European contact. The piece is colored with indigo vegetable dye and melon-colored cochineal (made of crushed insects) and faded with time. Tiny eight-pointed star patterns cover the rest of the sizeable blanket.
The theme of “Motion” describes the trade of the textiles among tribes, as well as a sense of motion in design, It is represented in a mid- to late-19th century bandolier bag of leather covered in intricate Ojibwe glass beadwork with scarlet strawberries and cerulean leaves winding up the strap. Alongside it is a smaller, bright and detailed wool and camelid hair woven Peruvian bag. Lined with a rainbow of pompoms, the piece is a tourist-friendly take on traditional styles.
Pokagon Potawatomi artist Jason Wesaw’s modern piece, “Healing Blanket,” is half deep blue and half bright red, trimmed with olive-colored material. Cones hang from it, similar to those worn for the ceremonial Ojibwe Jingle Dress Dance. On the cones, snippets of text from various treaties between the Potawatami and the U.S. government are overlaid on cyanotype images of past tribal leaders.
“Very often times, the Indigenous voice is silenced in a lot of places,” Mace says. “We want to give the opportunity for these communities to be represented and also invite the Native community to be able to say that we finally have a Native show.”
The exhibit will be included in upcoming UW-Madison First Nations Cultural Landscape Tours. The university has stepped up efforts on campus to acknowledge that the institution is built on stolen ground. Says Greendeer: “It’s a big time for Indigenous representation.”
