Tag Archives: western art

Native Americans Invade My Artwork

I don’t know if you’ve seen enough of my colored-pencil Paffooneys to tell this, but for an old white guy, I draw a lot of Native Americans and am rather deeply in love with American Indian images.  You may have seen this dream painting I posted before.

Magicman

The girl in the painting is a combination of this warrior’s daughter and myself.  I was naked in the dream and a female, facing this huge ghost-stag.  The dream came while I was reading Hanta Yo by Ruth Beebe Hill.  Maybe that book was the beginning of my Native American obsession.  Who knows?  I am a crazy dreamer.  But that wonderful book turned me on to the rich spiritual life that the Dakota people lived.  I identified with it so completely that I dreamed myself into their culture.  I was also struck by the manner in which a Native American culture handles education.  The grandfather is in charge of the boy’s learning.  He teaches by story-telling.  Here you see the grandfather in Sky Lodge teaching his grandson.  The girls would learn very different things from their mothers and grandmothers.

Skye lodge

I am also entranced by the life of the people expressed in dance and ritual.  Dance has deeper meaning than we white guys normally assign to it.  Dances could be magical.  Of course, the notion of a “rain dance” is the result of too much simplification in movie scripts and ignorant popular white culture.  Dance could connect you to the Earth, the Sky, and the Spirit World.  That’s what this most recent Paffooney shows.

Pueblo Bonito

So, you can see, I don’t really understand the concept of moderation when it comes to my obsessions in the world of colored pencil art.  Hanta Yo!  Clear the Way!  In a sacred manner I come!

child of fire

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Native Americans Invade My Artwork

I don’t know if you’ve seen enough of my colored-pencil Paffooneys to tell this, but for an old white guy, I draw a lot of Native Americans and am rather deeply in love with American Indian images.  You may have seen this dream painting I posted before.

Magicman

The girl in the painting is a combination of this warrior’s daughter and myself.  I was naked in the dream and a female, facing this huge ghost-stag.  The dream came while I was reading Hanta Yo by Ruth Beebe Hill.  Maybe that book was the beginning of my Native American obsession.  Who knows?  I am a crazy dreamer.  But that wonderful book turned me on to the rich spiritual life that the Dakota people lived.  I identified with it so completely that I dreamed myself into their culture.  I was also struck by the manner in which a Native American culture handles education.  The grandfather is in charge of the boy’s learning.  He teaches by story-telling.  Here you see the grandfather in Sky Lodge teaching his grandson.  The girls would learn very different things from their mothers and grandmothers.

Skye lodge

I am also entranced by the life of the people expressed in dance and ritual.  Dance has deeper meaning than we white guys normally assign to it.  Dances could be magical.  Of course, the notion of a “rain dance” is the result of too much simplification in movie scripts and ignorant popular white culture.  Dance could connect you to the Earth, the Sky, and the Spirit World.  That’s what this most recent Paffooney shows.

Pueblo Bonito

So, you can see, I don’t really understand the concept of moderation when it comes to my obsessions in the world of colored pencil art.  Hanta Yo!  Clear the Way!  In a sacred manner I come!

child of fire

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Western Art

Yesterday, on Friday the Thirteenth, we went to the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth.  My parents, both in their eighties, took us there in a week-long celebration of Dorin’s graduation from high school.  It was a worthy thing.  Unlike most kids, my three are not bored to apoplexy by art museums.  In fact, for most of the exhibitions, they traveled at my heels.  It seems I know enough about art to fascinate them.  All three of them are amateur artists themselves.

The Amon Carter Museum is centered on old Mr. Carter’s collection of the paintings of Frederick Remington and Charles Russell.

Remington was an adventurer and story-teller.  He was also a sculptor with a gift for creating action-filled scenes in bronze.  The Bronco Buster, the statue pictured here, is on prominent display in the foyer of the museum.  It is one of Remington’s first, and one of his best known (in large part due to the Amon Carter Collection).  The painting that follows was used as an illustration for one of his western stories.  Remington wrote western novels, articles about the west, and factual essays about Native Americans.  He had actually lived with Indians for a while and did a lot to lend credibility to everything he wrote about them.  He didn’t save them from the depredations of the white man, but then, who could have done that?  His nighttime scene is ultra-realistic and you can learn a lot about Indians just by studying the picture.

Russell came after Remington by a few years, but he was a contemporary and an admirer of Remington’s work.  Russell is also an artist of intricate detail and accuracy, having also studied Indians from inside their villages and camps.  The Silk Robe painting shown below and exhibited at the Carter reveals detailed knowledge of curing a buffalo hide that only could have come from watching the process in real life.  He also did bronze sculpture and watercolor paintings along with his fantastic oil paintings.  In fact, in his day, Russell was considered a sculptor who also paints.  I don’t know how you can look at his cowboy art and still believe that.   He is a truly masterful painter.

You’ll have to forgive me for taking a break from the usual humor blog, but I have an overwhelming love for art and painting, and this museum visit put an Indian arrow right through my silly old heart.

images frederic-remington-bronco Remington-The-Grass-Fire-AmonCarter 1961-381_s_0 1280px-russell_loops_and_swift_horses_are_surer_than_lead_1916 1961-141_s_0 cmrretro_dam_1209_07 images (1) the-wolfers-camp

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