BIG PICTURE

Two, wall-sized photographic murals -- Apsáalooke Feminist # 2, 2016; and Indian Summer - Four Seasons, 2006 -- divide Red Star’s exhibition into discrete spaces.

Wendy Red Star: Thinking about scale in this show involves thinking about agency: about how native history is usually presented, and how I can bring out the agency of different subjects within that narrative. For example, with my daughter Beatrice and I presented as larger-than-life figures in Apsáalooke Feminist, I’m emphasizing our matrilineal society, and asking viewers to contend with it. 

With Indian Summer - Four Seasons, I think it was Laura’s idea to make this a wall-sized piece as well. It was lovely to see a work that was made in 2006 next to a work made in 2016. It’s incredible to have this transformation represented in this way: from me as a younger artist to me as a mother with my child.

Laura Thompson: One of the things that exhibitions visitors speak about with Apsáalooke Feminist is how colorful the work is, in contrast to the black and white historical images in the rooms around it. The way that gender is working here is significant -- you and Beatrice are like a monument overlooking these men. 

There’s something very important happening with the size and the placement of Apsáalooke Feminist on the wall that divides the gallery in two. On the other side of that wall is a video monitor that features Beatrice’s work, as well as a video of you and your father talking, and the auditory relationship draws you to the other side of the space.

So it’s scale as well as other sensory techniques that leads viewers through different parts of the exhibition. This movement between works gives agency to the subjects, and it also acts in a corrective way, countering misrepresentations of Indigenous history. When I take college students through your exhibition, they speak about how their previous perceptions of Native peoples -- as existing only in the past -- are challenged and a light bulb goes on over their heads recognizing that they need to relearn US history.

Clockwise, from top left: figure cutouts of Spotted Rabbit; Big Medicine; Sees With His Ears; and David Stewart, Big Shoulder Blade, and Carl Leider (each 2020).

Throughout the exhibition, viewers encounter life size cutouts of different Apsáalooke historical figures: some are presented along the walls of the exhibition, while others cutouts are freestanding, inhabiting the space that might otherwise be reserved for a gallery spectator.

WRS: It's always been a fantasy of mine to encounter the figures in these photographs. It’s part of the reason why the cutouts are life-sized or even larger-than-life-sized. To be around these figures it to make them real, almost like getting to meet them.

The research that I conduct about these subjects continues to unfold once the work is on view. I’ve always been interested in a detail, and I’m trying to keep the viewer curious, or even inspire their own research, by honing in on certain aspects of the work through enlarging, cutting, or writing on an image. 

LT: This is where the question of context also becomes important, as you confront history in this work. To support your work, the contemporary art gallery space becomes a place to position these historical artifacts in a new light. Especially as you add annotations to images, or scale them to life-sized proportions.

It’s interesting, the only critique I’ve received about this exhibition is about its position in Kidspace: that it’s “too good” for a kid’s gallery. But Kidspace engages world-renown artists for this very reason: to advocate for these important conversations with children from a very young age; to display art that uses context and scale in creative ways to foster and provoke these inner dialogues.

One photographic mural in the exhibition, drawn from an archival image located at the National Anthropological Archives, features a striking, blown-up group portrait of the 1872 Crow Delegation to Washington, D.C.

LT: This photo elicits a lot of different responses from visitors. Some don’t want to say what they think about it, because they say that the figures in the photograph look unhappy, and they are worried about saying so. 

There is a lot to consider in this photograph. Many of the delegation members weren’t feeling so well. They had to sit still for this camera. Plus, the government photographer was telling them which way to sit, and their body language is reacting to these gestures of control. 

WRS: When I see this image, I'm thinking about the incredible journey that the Crow delegation took to get to Washington, D.C., and the activism they engaged in in order to maintain their culture. Yes, their expressions are serious. But with the fast paced technologies that we're living with, people are trained not to really dig below the surface and understand that this was a really short moment amidst so many things that happened leading up to and following this encounter. 

I was at a studio visit recently with some graduate students, and one student was really obsessed with the flawed, artificial nature of photography. I think it’s fascinating what they were saying, but I also understand myself as more of an optimist. What I’m doing with these old photographs is pulling out the parts that I see — that I want to expose — and when I’m working with historical figures, I’m grateful to have the images over anything. Even when there is painful history that accompanies these images, this is a chance to find other kinds of information in these historical moments, too.

The exhibition features a community drawing project, in which Apsáalooke words for animals are used as a vehicle for exploring the transformative power of Apsáalooke language and cosmology. The exhibition includes a set of original toys, which reinterpret 19th century drawings by Medicine Crow.

LT: Currently, I'm concerned about visitors only being able to access this work digitally. My whole philosophy of museum work is that you gain so much by spending time with the actual object. Especially in work where size and scale is so important.

But there's something about digital technology, and how it takes us to a different place that is special. For example, we reproduced some drawings that Medicine Crow did of animals with color pencil in the 19th century. We also sent these drawings to China during the middle of the pandemic to be turned into stuffed animals. The MASS MoCA education team had the experience of color-matching these stuffed animals to these historical photos in this global production. 

WRS: I love thinking about this, too! I think Medicine Crow was in his mid-30s and the drawings he produced are kind of crude -- he was not known to be the best illustrator, in a community where there are many excellent illustrators. It can be hilarious to think about these contemporary manufacturers interpreting the drawings of this Apsáalooke man from the 1880s to produce these new, soft toys.

 LT: I will say that I’m thrilled that this show will be up through May 2022, so that we will have time for students in our partnership schools to make the translation from small screens to experiencing the pieces in person, and we can share all of the deep intentionality behind why the exhibition is designed the way that it is.

WRS: The pandemic was certainly a cliffhanger. I haven’t gotten to see this show in person yet because of it. Though many of my engagements were being either canceled or postponed, it was a rare opportunity to proceed with this show during this time, and I’m so grateful for it.