Navajo Mountain. Canyon de Chelly. Monument Valley. The mere mention of these landscapes conjures up images of isolation and breathtaking natural beauty, but they are significant for another reason, for this remote area of northern Arizona and southern Utah has become the cradle of an artistic renaissance in contemporary Navajo basket weaving. Master basket weavers like Joann Johnson and her contemporaries Elsie Holiday and Sally Black, all of whom live in this region, are creating innovative forms of designs within this traditional medium.

Indeed, this region would seem an unlikely spot to see the "latest and hippest" in a contemporary Navajo art form that was, until twenty years ago, largely ignored. For many, a reference to Navajo baskets immediately creates a mental image of traditional wedding baskets better suited to ceremonial uses than to a gallery display shelf. However, with the dawn of the twenty-first century, the medium of Navajo basketry has undergone significant reinterpretations through striking new forms defined by vibrant colors and dynamic imagery. A journey to this country of the Navajo basket weavers will provide seekers with unexpected treasures and rewards.

My own adventure begins when a picture of a set of baskets, the Dawn to Dusk series woven by Joann Johnson, jumps off the page of a recent Indian Arts and Crafts Association publication. The realistic colors, the magical abstract designs, and the size of the pieces convey an image of the rising and setting of the sun over the northern Arizona landscape. I had to see for myself the innovators at the forefront of this striking new movement in Navajo basketry. So I head toward the Mexican Hat, Utah, area one afternoon in search of these weavers.

The emergence of a basket, demonstrated by Peggy Black Rock

Passing the Douglas Mesa area, clouds of debris swirl around the car, the result of a transient dust devil circling nearby. The day\'s fading sunlight creates dappled images in shades of purple, mauve, ocher and orange. The parallel between this stark, haunting beauty and the multitude of contemporary weavings I saw not two hours earlier at the local trading post is remarkable. From that encounter, my curiosity is piqued and I am intent on meeting as many of these new artists as possible.

As I drive further and encounter the shadows of Big Rock Door Mesa and Mitchell Butte, I experience a spectrum of natural color and shapes that is the basis for this artistic renaissance. Ribbons of paved highway, and the occasional dirt road, crisscross the area, intertwining the area\'s remoteness much like splints dart through and around the coils of a new basket. These lifelines carry me past hogans, leading to the weavers\' remote homesteads in the Douglas Mesa and Monument Valley areas, home to some of the most creative and talented basket weavers in the Four Corners region.

I arrive unannounced at the home of Sally Black and am lucky to find the weaver at home. A hearty handshake and quick exchange of Navajo greetings follow; I feel as though I have been expected for some time. The warmth and friendliness that mark her hospitality will be repeated at other weavers\' homes and put me immediately at ease. I feel privileged to be allowed into this world of basket-weaving creativity.

The techniques and craftsmanship of coiling baskets created in the American Southwest date back several thousand years. The methods and materials used in their construction have remained essentially unchanged. Nowhere is this truer than in Navajo basketry. Once reserved for ceremonial or utilitarian use, the art form gradually transformed itself in the late nineteenth century, to meet the demands of a growing tourist industry. In recent years, this transformation has been taken one step further, in basket forms that encompass both traditional Navajo myths and legends and new abstract designs rooted in religious and historical contexts. For most Native cultures, each generation contemporizes its artistic history and traditions, reaffirming current tastes of both the Native American and the larger world. Whether such interpretation derives from Navajo oral tradition, or emerges from a dream, or has its origin in some other artistic source, such ideas come to full fruition in the three-dimensional artistry of today\'s Navajo baskets.

Joann Johnson\'s home is typical of others that I visit. Awls, knives and scraping tools of various sizes are placed haphazardly over kitchen counters. Raw sumac bundles are strewn throughout the house, having been gathered the previous day. She confides that there are secret areas scattered about the mesas where families gather the plants. Sumac, along with occasional willow and other materials, often grow near streams and riverbanks. However, the tone in her voice, coupled with a wry smile, confirms that she has no intention of divulging the location of such a coveted cache of sumac, particularly to a stranger.

Sally Black does, however, describe for me the laborious process of stripping the splints and selecting which ones will be used as the foundation, or coils, of a new basket. She stresses the importance of trying to achieve a uniform size of the sewing splints, which will give the completed piece a nearly perfect polish and finish. Dried and bundled, they are carefully stored until needed. Once ready to weave, Sally then dyes the splints into a vast array of colors, the selection of which remains latent in the weaver\'s mind until the design begins to emerge.

On a visit to weaver Elsie Holiday, the squeak of her awl pierces the coil; the imperceptible movement of sewing another sumac splint stitch in place occurs with machinelike precision. The quiet solitude of the home belies the fact that numerous children are also helping their parents in their weaving endeavors. Elsie sizes the sumac by passing the splints through a punched-out hole in a coffee can\'s lid, rendering uniform widths, a hallmark of Holiday craftsmanship. Elsie is unique among weavers in utilizing a single-, rather than a double-coil foundation for her baskets. To the connoisseur\'s eye, however, the results remain outstanding from both an aesthetic and technical standpoint.

The aesthetic appeal is enhanced by a bold use of color that distinguishes this contemporary trend. Color becomes not only an important element in this new type of basket design, but also allows the weaver to explore themes in unconventional and exciting new ways. For example, in Joann Johnson\'s Four Seasons series, the abstract use of color has become the means by which she conveys the essence of each new season. Tints and hues may derive from natural sources or, more often, from the spectrum of commercial dyes. In either case, the wide range of colors available to experiment with adds depth and dimension to the design, as can be seen in Elsie\'s new Landscape series.

Leading supporters of this new trend in Navajo basketry can be found in Bluff, Utah. Steve and Barry Simpson, owners of the Twin Rocks Trading Post, have been instrumental in supporting the weavers in their exploration of new interpretations in basket weaving. The post has become a focal point for weavers, a place for them to gain inspiration and to exchange ideas. Steve shows me a set of watercolor paintings, abstract and avant-garde, in mellow brown and ocher tones. Then he points out the latest work by Elsie, who has translated the painter\'s designs and coloration elements into a stunning three-basket set featuring this new "Wings" design. The viewer no longer sees flat art but experiences an art object with sculptural qualities.

Surprisingly, twenty-first century technology dovetails well with this ancient art form. Damian Jim, an employee at Twin Rocks, has a strong interest in computers. With his technical expertise, he has developed graphics programs that allow him and the artists to create a variety of colorful abstract designs that can be used as a blueprint for transfer to a three-dimensional basket surface. Many weavers visit the post to seek out Damian\'s assistance in designing future works. It is commonplace to see Joann, Elsie and other weavers sitting beside him at the computer screen, trying out multiple permutations of colors and design strategies, until one dazzling combination fills the screen and is then printed in laser-sharp detail to be transformed into a weaver\'s next master creation.

Often, weavers visit the post to view Polaroid shots of masterpieces created by their contemporaries. According to Barry, many of tomorrow\'s ideas come from this scrapbook of memories past. It is such inspiration that has led to a friendly rivalry among many of the weavers. Such competition, they believe, challenges each to invent new and imaginative design concepts. This application of ultra-modern design to an ancient art form is what\'s fueling the contemporary revival of Navajo basketry.

Ensuring the continuity of this artistic tradition is a serious concern among the weavers. They all agree that it is important to constantly fuel this revival in basketry and that they need to increase the involvement of the next generation. Weavers emphasize that, if the revival is to continue, the younger generation must assist by either watching and learning or by apprenticing at their parents\' sides. Elsie Holiday\'s children assist her in the preparation of the materials. She believes that experiencing the feel of good-quality sumac is essential for the day when her children will begin to stitch their own creations.

Such experience cannot be taught; it must be learned by doing.

Sally Black points with pride to the beginning of a small plaque started by one of her teen-age sons. Just as her own mother did many years before, Sally patiently assists and supervises his weaving during his weekends home from a Flagstaff boarding school. Balancing the needs of Navajo tradition with those of the educational skills necessary to function in the modern world is difficult, but not insurmountable. Never one to foist the art on her children, Sally waited until her son approached her on his own, asking if he might try to make a basket.

That desire to try is a sure sign that the seed of this new basketry art has been successfully planted in the next generation of Navajo weavers, so that this renaissance may carry on into the new millennium. That generation will define the trends that will carry this renaissance in Navajo weaving into the new millennium and yield new basketry designs and techniques as yet unimagined.

Eric David Tack is a physician in Phoenix, Arizona, with a lifelong interest and a collector\'s passion for all Native American arts.