Weaving Has a Heartbeat

Textile weaving is a long-standing practice in Indigenous communities throughout the world. In the Southwest, many groups, including Diné (Navajo), Tohono O’odham, and Yoeme (Yaqui) peoples, have kept weaving traditions alive in a multitude of forms. Whether in the form of baskets or clothing, weaving has been used by Indigenous people to tell stories and build robust communities across time and space. Weaving is more than a craft; it is a way of life and holds countless lessons that remain central to contemporary Indigenous life. One of the most stunning aspects of woven textiles is their color. The practice of weaving is so closely intertwined with the delicate process of natural dyeing that the artists involved in the Honoring Traditions program were afforded opportunities to experiment with pigment in Tucson, Arizona, and Teotitlán del Valle in Oaxaca, Mexico. Wool dyed during these workshops was utilized by interns to produce the pieces included in this exhibit.

Arizona State Museum’s Honoring Traditions: Connecting Indigenous Master and Emerging Artists across Cultures mentorship program was established in 2017 by Lisa Falk and Heather Ingram, with support from the National Endowment for the Arts. With continued support by NEA, the most recent iteration of the program—and the catalyst for this exhibit—engaged with the history and practice of textile weaving. For the last two years, two master and three emerging Indigenous artists learned in community about natural dyeing and weaving from Zapotec and Navajo artists. The group went on cultural trips to Oaxaca, Mexico, and the Navajo Nation and worked with museum professionals to create this exhibit.

This exhibit is meant to share insights into what it has been like for us, the Emerging Artist Interns, to learn from master artists Barbara Teller Ornelas and Porfirio Gutiérrez, their families and communities, and one another. In thinking about this exhibit, we chose to highlight the relationship-building aspects of our work. What happens during the slowness of warping, weaving, and natural dyeing? Where did our conversations around the table meander to? How does our creativity reimagine the world of Indigenous artistry? Join us as we reflect on our experience learning from master artists, one another, and the world around us.

This program brings together five Indigenous artists from various backgrounds: Diné, Zapotec, Tohono O’odham, and Yoeme. Our artistic experiences are rooted in and inspired by the way we experience the world. Much of what we create reflects the deep histories, teachings, and stories held by our families. The master artists have taken us on a journey to learn more about weaving and natural dyeing in order to develop our capacity as teachers and knowledge carriers. The opportunity to work with individuals from different Indigenous backgrounds has allowed us to envision a new world for artists and makers that supports Indigenous creativity, ingenuity, and autonomy.

Barbara Ornelas (Diné)

Barbara Teller Ornelas is an internationally renowned tapestry artist who carries on the family tradition of creating award-winning Navajo weavings. She is a fifth-generation weaver and takes to heart the responsibility of teaching the next generation how to develop skills as master weavers. Originally from Two Grey Hills, New Mexico, but a longtime resident of Tucson, Barbara has been weaving since the age of four. Barbara teaches workshops across the country and internationally. She has curated exhibits and has been featured in innumerable shows at museums and cultural centers all over the world. Barbara and her sister Lynda Teller Pete recently published the book Spider Women’s Children, which shares stories and pictures of Navajo weavers from across the Navajo Nation. In 2023, Barbara was named a USA Artist Fellow, supported by The Fred and Eve Simon Charitable Foundation. Along with Lynda Teller Pete, she received the Native Treasures Legacy Award from the Museum of Indian Art and Culture in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Barbara has won many awards, including several best of show awards at venues throughout the Southwest. Her work can also be found in museum collections around the world.

I learned the basics of weaving from my mother, my grandmothers taught me the legends of weaving, and my older sister Rosann taught me design. I had a lot of teachers. – Barbara Teller Ornelas

Porfirio Gutiérrez (Zapotec)

Porfirio Gutiérrez is a California-based Zapotec textile artist and natural dyer who was born and raised in the richly historic Zapotec textile community of Teotitlán del Valle in Oaxaca, Mexico. He grew up immersed in color and surrounded by the wildness of Oaxaca’s mountains as well as  traditional knowledge of plants for healing and for color. His life’s work has been revitalizing and preserving traditional Zapotec natural-dye techniques with a focus on reinterpreting traditional textiles and materials to reflect his distinct creative vision. Gutiérrez works in both Ventura, California, and Oaxaca. His art practice maintains his ancestors’ spiritual belief in nature as a living being, sacred and divine. His grounding in Zapotec traditional knowledge is manifest in his textiles, as he reinterprets the traditional weaving language and subverts and reimagines the symbols and forms, morphing his textile designs toward the fractal forms and spaces of architecture and the movement he sees in cities and other urban environments. Gutiérrez is a truly American artist, moving freely across the border imposed between his two countries, as his ancestors and many other Indigenous peoples have done for thousands of years. His designs draw deeply on his experiences of two cultures, moving between the traditional and the modern but always reliant on the deep knowledge and spiritual dimensions of his work. In 2021, Porfirio received the Carolyn Glasoe Bailey Foundation art prize, which included a solo exhibition. His work can be found in a number of collections, including the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of the American Indian, the Museo Nationale de Culturas Populares in Ciudad de Mexico, Mexico, and the Arizona State Museum. Samples of Porfirio’s pigments have also been added to the Harvard Art Museum’s Forbes pigment collections, which are used for testing and as reference materials.

We were honored to have Barbara’s sister Lynda Teller Pete, also an award-winning artist, educator, and author, and her husband Belvin Pete join us on our journeys in Oaxaca and on the Navajo Nation. Belvin also made the weaving tools we are using. We felt privileged to listen in on, and participate in, discussions with all the master artists about the strong connections with family, community, and other Indigenous artisans across borders.

1. form (fabric or a fabric item) by interlacing long threads passing in one direction with others at a right angle to them.
2. make (a complex story or pattern) from a number of interconnected elements.  _{– The Oxford Pocket Dictionary of Current English, Encyclopedia.com. 20 March 2023} 

The weaving practices of our Diné and Zapotec teachers are similar in that they are passed down from one generation to another through in-person interactions. Spending time with a teacher is equal parts practice and storytelling. Both aspects are essential when learning a cultural art. Barbara, Porfirio, and their families have shown us the utmost kindness and generosity in allowing us to learn about and experience the practices of their respective families. Their stories and knowledge stem from a deep understanding of who they are as Indigenous people. The privilege of being part of the continued transfer of knowledge cannot be overstated.

Weaving is a practice that pulls many ways of learning into a single process. Learners may benefit from various styles of knowledge transference—via listening, hands-on practice, or casual conversation. While a teacher may provide a learner with the technical skills needed for weaving, the learner carries the creative potential of their piece in their mind. By exploring their lived experiences and all the details of their physical surroundings, a learner has the capacity to tell stories through design elements, such as crosses, stripes, and diamonds.

Weaving is an extension of who we are as people and strengthens our connections to our communities. As master artists Barbara and Porfirio have shared, this work is a way of life. Learning the delicate ins and outs of weaving and natural dyeing promotes a greater understanding of who we are in relation to the land, plants, animals, and other beings around us.

Our work is a representation of ourselves, our families, and the communities we come from. The designs and approaches we take in creating new pieces are part of the story we wish to tell as artists. Weavings can be read like books. For example, a weaver may depict scenes of homelife or landscapes. In these works, the artist may be relating a specific story or allowing an observer to create their own storyline.

There are many approaches to weaving and different spaces people weave in. During our time as interns, we saw artists’ weaving spaces at their homes and studios in Tucson, on the Navajo Nation, and in Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca, Mexico.

We were excited to learn more about the spaces in which Zapotec weaving happens. In Teotitlán del Valle, we explored the beautiful home studios of many artists, including the Porfirio Gutiérrez Studio. The looms are very different from those used in Diné weaving. One of the benefits of spending three days with the family in their home studio was having an opportunity to see, learn about, and try our hand at the loom. Needless to say, using a pedal loom takes an incredible amount of skill, creativity, and balance.

As artists, we have experienced the highs of weaving in the company of others and the lows of struggling to work with enough light. Our environments are always changing, and so are we. We were gifted with upright Diné looms, cleverly built by Belvin Pete, to travel with us wherever we go.

How many hours does it take to create a Diné textile?

Every weaving is unique, as is every weaver. The amount of time it takes to complete a weaving will depend on variables like the size of the piece, weight of the wool, skill of the weaver, and complexity of any patterns employed.

It is important to consider that some weavers spend countless hours before they ever start weaving: they gather plants for natural dyes, shear their sheep, and clean, spin, and dye their wool by hand. Raising sheep to the point that they can be sheared can take up to two years and is affected by the variability of the climate. There is a cycle to the growth and harvest of plants for natural dyes as well.

Weaving is a labor-intensive art form. Not including the time it took to harvest and collect the materials necessary for the weaving, loom preparation, and textile removal, my piece pulling heartstrings took me 58 hours to complete (warping and removing the piece from the loom took around six hours). All artists deserve to be fairly compensated for their intellectual and artistic contributions to society. which can be difficult to achieve in a world flooded by mass-produced and cheap goods. The success of artists is largely contingent on patrons recognizing the deep effort and care involved in creating art and choosing to invest in that work. – Mariah Claw

Our natural-dyeing workshops felt profoundly relational. Our success as artists is dependent on our knowledge and awareness of the process, materials, and our own being.

The impactful, yet delicate, practice of natural dyeing is underpinned by a deep knowledge of cultural stories, ecological knowledge, and chemistry. Learning how to successfully use natural dyes for wool hinges on an understanding of and reverence for the relationship between plants, animals, water, land, air, and ourselves. Collecting materials used to make dyes, for example, is done only during appropriate times, and we never take more than what is necessary. Typically, an offering is made in exchange for the gift of dyeing materials.

In Zapotec and Diné traditions, natural dyeing is a practice learned through intergenerational pathways. Being around natural dyeing is a foundational part of Indigenous natural-dyeing practices. Little ones may begin to establish their relationship to nature by first exploring the world around them and eventually joining their parents or grandparents on harvesting journeys. Though such opportunities are not available to every person at an early age, it is never too late to learn a cultural practice. For us, our journey in natural dyeing has only just begun. Our youthful enthusiasm for color and creativity has been renewed by learning about natural-dyeing processes.

Our first natural-dyeing workshop took place at Mission Garden in Tucson, a living agricultural museum of the Sonoran Desert located on Tohono O’odham territory. We used a ramada in the middle of the garden for our workshop, which felt appropriate given our agenda for the weekend. We were surrounded by various grasses and fruit trees. Porfirio, who is known for his mastery of pigments and natural-dyeing techniques, led the workshop and brought most of the materials from his home in Oaxaca, including pericón (Mexican tarragon) and cochineal insects. Barbara learned about Zapotec natural-dyeing processes alongside us. She provided the group with skeins of off-white Navajo wool to be dyed. The two-day workshop was labor-intensive yet restorative.

On the first day, we helped unload several gallons of water, multiple large burners, and other materials. Before we could put our hands to work, Porfirio made sure we knew where the materials were coming from as well as their cultural significance to his ancestors. The knowledge bestowed upon us by Porfirio set the tone for the rest of our time together. It was clear that, while the workshop would be fun, the process had to be undertaken with the utmost care. Between tasks, we talked about our homes and navigating settler colonialism as Indigenous people. The time we spent sharing stories and laughing was incredible, and by the end of the day we had finished dyeing our first skeins of wool in hues of yellow. On our second day, we overdyed the wool with cochineal, a dye made from the insect, to create deep-red tones. Experimenting with pigments was exhilarating, and the comradery of working together laid the foundation for the rest of the internship.

Growing up, my family’s tradition was never to dye wool. We are strictly weavers. All of our materials are natural from the sheep. We didn’t have a need for dyed wools. My sister Lynda got interested in dyed wools. She really got into learning about natural dyeing and had to look beyond the Navajo Nation to make friends with non-Native dyers. It wasn’t until we worked with Porfirio that we realized the abundance of plants for natural dyeing. She learned a lot from the Oaxaca trip. It was amazing and educational. Thank you, Porfirio, for being willing to share your knowledge about colors, dyes, and plants. – Barbara Teller Ornelas

What is it? Tagetes lucida, known as pericón or Mexican tarragon, is a marigold varietal native to North America, most notably Mexico and Central America. It is commonly used as both a culinary and medicinal herb as well as a source of natural dye. Pericón is harvested in the fall in Oaxaca, Mexico.

What color does pericón create?

Pericón produces yellows ranging from rich, golden hues to soft, light shades.

Reflection by Harrison

The Tucson workshop was the first time we worked together as a group, and Mission Garden provided the perfect backdrop for our introduction to natural dyeing. Having come from a background in basket making, I didn’t have any experience with natural dyes, because the colors found in O’odham baskets are those of the natural materials used in their construction. The first portion of the workshop was to mordant our wool so that it would accept the pigments we would be dyeing with. We simmered the dye stuff to extract as much color as possible before adding the scoured or washed wool. First was pericón, to produce yellows.  The next day, we continued the process by grinding the cochineal, which was then simmered to extract its color. As the yellow wool became bright shades of red, I found it intriguing that this process was created thousands of years ago and continues to this day. Seeing the now red wools emerge from the dye pots, I immediately thought of bahidag—saguaro cactus fruit—which is all-important and sacred to the O’odham peoples. During one break, I found myself looking around at the various plants within the garden and wondering what colors they’d produce. To see the end product of dyed wool that had such vibrancy and depth of color was exciting. It’s easy to see why cochineal became such a valuable commodity the world over. 

What is it? Cochineal is a parasitic insect that grows on the pads of nopales (prickly pear cactus). It is white and bumpy, akin to thick paint splatters across the cactus pads. The dye comes from the carminic acid within the insect. Indigenous people, particularly the Zapotec, have long-standing relationships with cochineal, domesticating and farming the insect for generations to produce larger insects. This has resulted in deeper and more-potent dye than that produced by wild cochineal. Indigenous knowledge of working with cochineal predates Spanish colonization. Historically, the cochineal insect was used in medicine and in various ceremonies.

I called my mom to tell her about the workshop. I asked her if my great-grandma ever used cochineal insects to dye her wool since she was a lifelong weaver. While she couldn’t remember if my grandma used cochineal, my mom shared a few memories of her grandma I had never heard before. I could almost see her hands in my mind, lowering and lifting wool out of dye vats. One of the gifts of the workshop was how it reconnected me to someone I have not seen in many years. – Mariah Claw

This art form is a deep part of my culture and is my life. It is like my native language or our ceremonies. The cochineal produces a color just like the color of our blood; the weft and the warp are like the tissue in our body. Textiles are our second skin as well as a means of expression. — Porfirio Gutiérrez

Knowledge emerges from positive and mutually consensual relationships. As Indigenous people continue to enter and move through spaces, such as museums, our ability to make and maintain kinship relations is crucial.

The workshop with Zapotec and Navajo weavers is going to happen. Because our ancestors want it to happen. – Barbara Teller Ornelas

Reflection by Porfirio Gutiérrez

Working with Barbara is absolutely an honor. I never imagined that one day I would be able to connect with her, or with any Navajo weaver. She represents our elders, the historical memory of the Indigenous people of the Americas. My learning from her was centered on the practice of how Barbara and Navajo weavers approach their practice in relation to their worldviews. For me, it was interesting to learn about the songs, the weaver’s path line, how the warp is taken care of, and other ways that their culture has informed their art. The similarities in our cultures are evident. This experience has helped me to deepen my understanding about my own identity as Native American. Spending time with Harrison, who is Tohono O’odham, Mariah, who is Diné, and Desireé, who is Yoeme, made me see how we can celebrate our cultural traditions and that, even though a political border has run through our lands, we are still strong in who we are.

In March 2022, we had the great privilege of visiting Porfirio and his family in Teotitlán del Valle. While it is difficult to call any part of our trip the “highlight,” it may be safe to say that spending time at the home of Juana and Antonio made the greatest impact. For three days, we shared meals, stories, laughs, gifts, and knowledge. For many of us, being with Porfirio’s family felt like being with our own family. It was like being under a shade house in Diné country hidden from the blistering northern Arizona sun.

Our primary task was to learn about and experience the process of natural dyeing with indigo. This activity built on our previous workshop with Porfirio in Tucson, where we worked with pericón and cochineal insects.

Assisting Porfirio’s family with natural dyeing emphasized our relationship to the land as Indigenous people, because our identities and ways of life are so closely tied to the places we inhabit. Climate change and urban development contribute to culture loss as ecosystems are threatened and destroyed. Returning to the original source of knowledge, the land, and learning to work with it was deeply empowering.

Reflection by Barbara

I was taught not to like the Mexican weavers because they copy us, take from us. Because of this, I grew up with the mentality not to like them. But now I have a better understanding of the mentality of why they did what they did. They needed to feed their families, and they were responding to people telling them to weave in a certain way for the market. They weren’t thinking that maybe they were encroaching on someone else’s designs. Lynda and I had long talks about how meaningful the trip was. I felt at home in Porfirio’s homeland. There is something about Teotitlán del Valle that reminded me of our home. Porfirio and his family were willing to open their minds and their hearts to the people who were visiting so we could understand their works and lives. I am grateful to ASM and everyone involved for making this happen.

In Oaxaca, we focused on dyeing with indigo, a plant material that creates rich, blue hues. Both indigo and cochineal were so valued in ancient times that the Aztec demanded them as tribute payments from other tribes, and later the Spanish stole them for their own enrichment.

Indigo is insoluble in water. In order for the fiber to absorb the dye, the powder is mixed with alum and water, which then has to be reduced. There is no oxygen in the vat. When the wool is removed from the vat, oxygen penetrates the fibers. At first, when the yarn comes out of dye, it looks green, but after being exposed to oxygen, it turns blue. If you over dye yarn already dyed with cochineal, it becomes a purple hue.

Designated a world heritage site in 2010, Mitla was once the religious center of the Zapotec culture and holds great significance for the people to this day. The site is known for its elaborate and intricate mosaic stonework, and its patterns can be seen reproduced throughout the surrounding valleys. These designs are found incorporated into textiles in the village of Teotitlán del Valle.

Our time on the Navajo Nation provided us with more opportunities to learn about natural dyeing and weaving practices. The Navajo Nation is in the southwestern U.S. and encompasses parts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah. For this part of the program, we were joined again by Lynda Teller Pete and Belvin Pete. As we traveled across the Navajo Nation, we connected with several artists who have been engaged in decades of experimentation and innovation. Our visits were special because they provided a glimpse into a variety of  styles, processes, and stories that persist on the Navajo Nation. Engaging with Diné artists, including Barbara Teller Ornelas and Lynda Teller Pete, on their homelands added depth to our understanding of natural dyeing and weaving by connecting these processes to land and cultural knowledge.

The nature in Navajo land is very relatable, reminds me of Oaxaca. I know I’m home when nature is familiar. Indigenous people have a particular way of seeing nature, a different way of relating to nature. – Porfirio Gutiérrez

The first stop on our trip was the Navajo Nation Museum in Window Rock, Arizona. We were guided through exhibits and collections by the museum’s director, Manuelito “Manny” Wheeler. He discussed the museum’s programming and exhibits, as well as what it takes to run a tribal museum. Although short staffed, the museum also serves as a library and a community center. On the day we visited, they were hosting a health conference. It was good to see such a lively place.

After our meeting, we had the chance to view the exhibits. Although they featured few objects, their content was impactful. Manny discussed how the staff develop and fabricate their exhibits. Learning how things are done at the museum helped us as we worked on developing this exhibit about the Honoring Traditions program.

It was quite special to see the exhibit on treaties and learn about the Treaty of 1868—its history and what was happening to the Navajo. When I was at the Navajo Nation Museum, the Zapotec were fighting for our sovereignty against the Mexican government. We presented our documents establishing our sovereignty, which was at risk. It’s incredible that in the twenty-first century we are still fighting for our sovereignty. – Porfirio Gutiérrez

TahNibaa Naataanii is an award-winning textile artist, respected teacher, and rancher from Table Mesa, New Mexico. Her days are full of caring for her sheep, her family, and her community, preparing wool, weaving, and felting. While we visited her family’s homestead, she introduced us to her Churro sheep, showed examples of the many styles of weaving and felting she does, and led us through a felting workshop. Her words reflected her connection to the land, the sheep, and her community, and revealed how the Navajo way of life gives her strength and a path to follow. We also enjoyed meeting Sarah Naataanii, TahNibaa’s mother, who is also a weaver and master of natural-dyeing practices.  

TahNibaa has been honored with many awards for her contemporary approach to a traditional art form. In 2018, she won first place in Traditional Arts at the Prescott Indian Art Market and first place in Contemporary Woven Textiles at the Santa Fe Indian Market. In 2020, she received the Community Spirit Award from the First Peoples Fund and a Mentor Artist Fellowship from the Native Arts and Cultures Foundation. In 2022, the National Endowment for the Arts named TahNibaa a National Heritage Fellow, which is the highest form of recognition for folk and traditional artists bestowed by the U.S. government.

Being on the Navajo Nation, I was reminded of the generosity of the Indigenous people. The first thing, TahNibaa gave us steamed corn. – Porfirio Gutiérrez

We had the opportunity to visit the historic Two Grey Hills Trading Post with Barbara and Lynda. Their father Sam Teller worked at this trading post for over 35 years. Lynda gave a presentation about the history of the trading post, which included personal stories about growing up there.

Reflection by Mariah Created with commercial yarn, this piece exemplifies the expansion of my weaving toolbox. Having completed a handful of textiles, I felt comfortable at the loom and was ready for a new challenge. Under the instruction of Lynda Teller Pete, I learned to weave diagonal lines in my textiles. The inclusion of this new skill has widened an already broad path in my creativity. Textiles from Lukachukai often include diagonal lines in patterns and motifs, which connect me to my family’s weaving history.

During our trip, we had the opportunity to visit with Roy Kady of Goat Springs, Arizona. A master weaver, sheep herder, and natural dyer, Roy spoke about his life and his work with all aspects of Navajo weaving. Not one to shy away from experimenting, Roy often combines a variety of weaving techniques in many of his pieces, especially in the pictorial textiles. He finds inspiration not only from Navajo songs and stories but also in the natural world around him. 

Roy maintains a flock of Churro sheep, whose genes go back to the original Churro sheep the Navajo hid during the period of the Long Walk (1863-1868). He uses his flock to teach and inspire up-and-coming weavers how to care for their own sheep and to encourage the preservation of Churro sheep. He can routinely be found giving workshops on weaving and dyeing techniques. He is known to be a fantastic teacher, and many of his students have gone on to become award-winning weavers themselves. Roy is very involved with the Diné Be’lina (Navajo Lifeway) organization and their annual Sheep is Life celebration, which each summer brings together Navajo weavers and dyers to share all things sheep and fiber arts.

Reflection by Harrison

I was fortunate to meet Roy in the fall of 2021 at a small market in Tucson. I was new to natural dyeing and asked about the wools he had for sale. Like any good teacher, he shared his process and didn’t seem to hold back. When I mentioned I was a student of Barbara Teller Ornelas, he really lit up. Even amid the busy atmosphere of the market, he took time to talk about his wools and dyes, and I excitedly walked away with some naturally dyed wools. Unbeknownst to me, we would meet again on our trip to the Navajo Nation. In Teec Nos Pos, we heard more about his work and his advocacy for the Churro sheep. Although our time with Roy was short, it was good to hear more of his perspective on weaving, natural dyeing, and the Churro sheep.

Reflection by Porfirio

Visiting the Navajo Nation for the first time reassured me about how connected as Native people we have always been. It reassured me that we all think of this land as home. I felt I was home with my extended family of Native people. It became clear to me the damage the border has done to the separation of Indigenous people. 

I was touched deeply by meeting Barbara’s aunt Mary Louise Gould, a master weaver. She reminded me of my mom. I was struck by the similarity—my mom doesn’t speak Spanish, and Mary Louise doesn’t speak English. But people think everyone in Mexico speaks Spanish and everyone in America speaks English. Their home reminded me of my home in Teotitlán del Valle. 

Seeing the way people lived on the Navajo Nation showed me that the wealthiest country in the world does not really care about our people. We are one of the wealthiest countries in the world, but yet not enough is done for the Native people. This visit helped me to better understand my identity as Native American rather than as a Mexican immigrant.

Collections curators at the Museum of Northern Arizona, in Flagstaff, invited us to view its Navajo weaving collection. We were able to see many exemplary textiles and discussed designs, dyes, and techniques together. One happy surprise was that Barbara reconnected with a Teller family weaving in the museum’s collections storage. Barbara was surprised to see her grandmother’s weaving, not knowing it existed. It was a copy of the one she owns. Her grandmother made these as samplers to show buyers at the Two Grey Hills Trading Post.

This piece is a coming together, a healing, a celebration. -- Barbara Teller Ornelas and Porfirio Gutiérrez

Reflection by Porfirio Two Native brothers and sisters, two communities, our relationship was disrupted first because of the border, and second because someone, a businessperson, created the demand for these designs and a misunderstanding. It is an illness, our relationship was affected, and it is hurting. I was thinking about how we can come together. With the opportunity with the Honoring Traditions program…I wanted to participate…and it just kind of happened—the relationship you and I have formed, Barbara. I think about how some of these things happen. I’ve been thinking about DNA and how things run through our blood. At this time, we come together to celebrate and heal because our ancestors envisioned this for us. My ancestors spoke, my grandkids are going to travel the world. I can’t explain these things, it is how I feel, it is in our DNA. Your leaders and my elders are sitting here having these conversations with us. I am thinking that they would like to see Native people in peace. When Lisa said for us to create a collaborative piece, I just imagined how our cultures were disrupted. I think about a wound in our body, even in our spirit. There is a healing process that has to happen. I am thinking about how our culture is somewhat ill, disrupted—almost like our culture got torn and that we need to sew it back together. I’m humbled that you, Barbara, also thought this idea would work for our collaboration. What we are celebrating is one language. There is a ceremony happening right now. There is something very special in the spirit world, that they are supporting and seeing our conversation. To me that is this piece, it is a coming together, a healing, a celebration.

Reflection by Barbara

Traveling the world, my grandmother told me, you’re going to teach the world about our work. I see the weavers there in their communities, and they have their commitments to their pieces, to an understanding of their cultures. There are weavers all over the world with the same concept and understanding that I have. As weavers, we speak our own language. When I showed them the work and how I do it, they knew exactly what I was doing without words in translation. Weavers all over the world have a special bond. We all have a right to continue our work and the cultural part of work. It opened my mind to other weaving. Each has special meaning to our cultures. This collaborative piece is like two weaving worlds coming together to heal and to have a better understanding of our life’s work.

Many thanks to all of the artists and museum professionals who have been part of this learning experience. Honoring Traditions: Connecting Master and Emerging Indigenous Artists across Cultures and Museums was made possible by two grants from the National Endowment for the Arts under the Traditional Arts program. We are grateful that NEA supports this type of learning and artistic creation.

The arts that are linked to our culture are very important. And it’s very important that we tell that story. – TahNibaa Naataanii, National Endowment for the Arts video, 2022

This exhibit was co-curated by

Mariah Claw (Diné), Emerging Artist Intern Harrison Preston (Tohono O’odham), Emerging Artist Intern Desireé (Yoeme), Emerging Artist Intern Lisa Falk, Honoring Traditions Program Director/Head of Community Engagement, Arizona State Museum

With contributions from

Porfirio Gutiérrez (Zapotec), Master Artist Barbara Teller Ornelas (Diné), Master Artist Lynda Teller Pete (Diné), Master Artist Kim Kreutzer, Volunteer, Arizona State Museum Abraham Edward Cooper, videographer Tobi Taylor, editor

Exhibit design by

Lisa Falk, Arizona State Museum Mariah Claw, Emerging Artist Intern Andie Zelnio, Arizona State Museum