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In Two Worlds
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Non-Native photographers historically have ventured into Indian Country with the notion that their work would be the final visual commentary of the "vanishing American Indian." Beginning a century ago, they made their way on foot, wagon and horse carrying fragile glass plates and cumbersome, weathered view cameras. Some contemplated whether they would get rich or famous, or both.
A few did. One of those truly committed to his craft was Edward S. Curtis. This tenacious photographer sacrificed family and health to document what he assumed would be the final images of the North American Indian. Curtis left a visual treasure of more than 40,000 glass plates and negatives. Twenty volumes of his dedicated work are in special collections throughout world.
Today, Native Americans are carrying their own cameras and pointing their lenses at contemporary Indian life. But it is not because of dire predictions about their cultures. Rather, their images are capturing cultural transitions, as well as the vibrant lives of Native peoples.
On every reservation, Indian men and women teach and mentor the next generation, passing traditional cultural knowledge of their grandmothers and grandfathers, proving wrong the predictions of early non-Indian photographers.
Some Native American photographers seek to preserve with images what they deem vital to the survival of tribal identity. Sometimes, their own communities suspect less-honorable motives similar to those of the non-Indian photographers who preceded them. Even with the availability of sophisticated camera equipment, some Native American photographers may eventually bow down and bow out due to the adversities of recording the history, culture and traditions of their people for all to see.
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Left: He Wears it Well
Top: The Love of the Drum. |
There is no danger of that when it comes to the works of two distinctly different Pueblo photographers-Howard T. Rainer (Taos/Creek) and Lee Marmon (Laguna). Combined, their photographic experience amounts to more than 75 determined years of serious visual documentation.
Rainer grew up in the secluded Taos Pueblo in New Mexico. He has roamed Indian America for nearly three decades as both a motivational teacher and a visual historian.
Rainer prefers using natural-light photography. "I have found over the years that my photographic results have been more successful when doing environmental portraiture without flash. I gave up on using a flash years ago when some of the elders could only endure one or two flash shots before they quietly got up and walked away from the shooting session. Photography is already an intrusion for some Indian people, and glaring lights or camera flashes merely limit a possible great shot," Rainer says.
Rainer has a rare collection of Native American imagery that rekindles fond memories of his travels throughout Indian Country. "I want my work to be a personal testament that I tried to bring dignity to my people, who deserve it."
The images of his own Taos community give Rainer the most satisfaction. Recalling early childhood memories of living at his grandparents' home in Taos Pueblo, he has tried to re-create some of those special moments with his camera.
Left: Laguna Pueblo Eagle Dancers. Below: White Man's Moccasins.
"Three of the most profound memories while living at Taos Pueblo were learning the importance of a spiritual foundation, the traditional importance of wearing a cotton blanket and Indian singing as a family," he says.
In his image titled In Two Worlds, Rainer says that he sees a symbolic statement of the inner faith and spiritual values Native Americans have always had. "My grandmother was a marvelous teacher of the importance of personal faith through prayer. She exemplified her devotion to her religion by word and deed. I pay tribute to her for my own personal connection and devotion to my chosen religious faith and to the Creator God today."
In the image He Wears It Well, Rainer recalls as a young boy witnessing "powerful men like my grandfather wearing the cotton blanket."
"They were not embarrassed to wear these cotton blankets as they did commerce and worked in the non-Indian town of Taos, New Mexico. The wearing of the blanket was a silent social statement of strong resistance to outside intrusion into Pueblo culture."
Each wearer had his own way of draping his blanket. "Those families who have the original J.C. Penney cotton blanket are very fortunate. These are priceless heirlooms from those wonderful days of strong Taos Pueblo tradition and culture."
The Love of the Drum is a tribute to Rainer's favorite and respected uncle, Tony Reyna. "He is a gentleman who has always been a great supporter of my life's work and mission with Indian people. He and my other uncles have many grand memories of singing Indian songs on Pueblo feast days and special occasions. My family at Taos Pueblo are all singers, and I am indebted to them for placing in my heart many beautiful traditional songs. I took this image of my uncle to remind me of those grand moments when we stand around the drum."
Rainer's love for photography goes beyond expectations of monetary reward or adulation. "Photography gives me the great gift of never-ending anticipation. This means that somewhere in Indian America or at the village of Taos Pueblo, there is a stunning image still waiting to be taken."
He uses photography to motivate Native people, as well. "If you want to become a successful photographer, your heart must be in the right place. You must be willing to endure moments of failure and frustration. If you love the work you are doing and it is inflamed with passion, it can never be stamped out. The camera cannot deceive. Native Americans are a beautiful people."
Lee Marmon still lives in Laguna Pueblo, 40 miles west of Albuquerque. Marmon's tenacity as a professional Native American image-maker has gained him international recognition. Few Native American photographers today can claim to have a photographic collection of black-and-white Native American imagery that spans half a century.
Marmon's traditional ties to the Laguna Pueblo afforded him the rare opportunity to create treasured, vintage images of daily life. His camera has preserved some of the guarded traditional dances of his village. Over the years, he has used a variety of 35mm, medium format and 4x4 Graffix view cameras.
Marmon's photographic aspirations were born while serving in the United States Army in 1943. After an honorable discharge, he vowed to use his camera to document Pueblo life when he returned home. Several years later, while working in his father's trading post at Laguna Pueblo, Marmon's photographic efforts began to bloom.
He went to Denver to work for the Chitton House of Photography, receiving intensive on-the-job training in the darkroom. He never once used a camera during this time. Instead, Marmon learned the important fundamentals of fine printing techniques, which he would eventually use back home with his own images.
Marmon shared his years of photographic craftsmanship with his daughter, Leslie Marmon Silko, who would travel with him often on his photographic ventures. Today, she is one of America's most successful American Indian novelists. Marmon taught his daughter that a powerful picture was one that told a whole story in a single image. And, in a reversal of roles, Silko's words evoke powerful mental pictures, as in her books "Almanac of the Dead" and her latest, "Gardens in the Dunes."
Marmon recalls with fondness what it was like in the 1930s, '40s and '50s to create images of the New Mexico landscape, as well as of the people of Laguna Pueblo.
"When I was a young boy, I was fortunate to witness the vivid color and vitality of our Pueblo life and the Navajo people who came to my father's store from great distances. I remember when Navajo families would arrive at our village for the Laguna feasts and do some trading and shopping in our store. At night, I would see their evening fires burning by their campsites. It was a wonderful time to see the Navajo people dressed in their traditional attire, adorned with beautiful turquoise jewelry, stove hats and women's dresses made of colorful silk. I miss those times!"
Marmon's parents encouraged him to seek permission from those elders, who were camera-shy. Opportunity eventually came his way when Marmon began delivering groceries to these elders.
One portrait became an international trademark for Marmon. "There was a certain elder from our village whom I sought out to take his picture. It was not an easy task. He was very reluctant. When I would approach him, he would shyly say, 'No picture today.' One particular day, I met Mr. Jeff Sousea and his response was the same, 'No picture today.' But good fortune was with me. On this particular day, I had a cigar he wanted. He traded with me-a few shots of him for that cigar. The title I gave to this image was White Man's Moccasins, which has since been purchased all over the world. It is one of my favorite images because of the challenge it was to take it!"
In 1953, Marmon witnessed the disturbing closure of an era-a time when the covered wagons stopped coming to his father's trading post. One day, Lee asked his father if he could leave his store responsibilities to take his 35mm camera and shoot pictures of the covered wagons parked outside. Before his father could consent, Marmon was climbing up a ladder to the store's rooftop. He recounted with sadness that this was the last time he saw those covered wagons in front of the family trading post.
One of Marmon's fondest photographs is of three Laguna Pueblo eagle dancers practicing for a ceremonial dance. Wings spread wide, they are lined up in formation on a sandstone mesa near his village-an image rarely seen outside the pueblo. "I have been blessed to have had the rare opportunity to take pictures of our elders and Pueblo life that are restricted to outsiders. Without the love and respect of my family at our village and my own reputation, I know that many of the elders, and particularly the shot of the eagle dancers, would not have been possible to capture."
Marmon acknowledges that many of his photographs are historic visual statements depicting an era of a rich Pueblo life. They also are strong testament to his feelings about the culture and the people. "In my darkroom, I printed an image of two Laguna women that I had completely forgotten about taking many years back. It took just a few seconds to print this image. When I looked at the finished work, it made my eyes water."
In May 1999, Marmon's photographic work of 50 years was on public display in the Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of the American Indian, George Gustav Heye Center, in Manhattan. There is no doubt that perhaps the elders, now departed, whose pictures were taken in Marmon's young manhood, would be proud of this exhibition. From beyond the clouds, perhaps they might have even smiled with some pride that one of their own had brought recognition and dignity to their people through photography.
Like most artists, these two photographers continue to create and seek their own personalized means of artistic self-expression. The challenge of preserving segments of Indian culture has not been easy for them, but their passion and commitment to being visual historians for their people have driven them to continue sharing what they have seen through their eyes.
Perhaps the most important legacy for these two Pueblo photographers will be that their works become a living testament, a declaration that the Native American, the First Nations people, the Native peoples of the Americas, have refused to vanish. 
