By Dottie Indyke
Photography by Kitty Leaken

Dick Howard was hooked on Indian art in 1954 when he made his first
purchase: a $2.60 San Juan Pueblo pot bought from Charles Eagleplume
near Estes Park, Colorado. Two weeks later, he went back and bought a
second piece, and the next month he sold his stamp collection for $22
to finance a trip to Santa Fe.
Dick Howard in his bedroom with a tiny part of the collection, a ‘few of my beauties’ he calls them.
“I went to the studio of Popovi Da at San Ildefonso Pueblo, one of the
main outlets for Maria Martinez’s work,” Howard recalls. “The pot I
liked best cost $13.50. I stood there longingly, trying to figure out
how I could possibly come up with the money. This nice lady—Anita Da,
Maria Martinez’s daughter-in-law, who later became my friend—sold it to
me for $10.”
Howard, 72, a former president of the Southwestern Association for
Indian Arts and for six years the judging chairman of its annual Indian
Market, can keep a visitor entertained for hours with stories drawn
from more than a half-century of dealing and collecting.
Born and raised in Chicago, he was near graduation in geology from the
University of Colorado when he signed up for a course in Southwest
archaeology and Indian art. Enthralled, he spent the extra year it took
to complete a degree in anthropology. His first job was leading public
tours at Mesa Verde, where he met John Corbett, chief archaeologist for
the National Park Service, who helped him get a permanent position.
Before he retired, Howard’s Park Service stints included stays at
Salinas National Monument, Casa Grande Ruins and Canyon de Chelly.
His home on Santa Fe’s east side, where he has lived for 19 years,
literally overflows with Pueblo pots, traditional Native American
paintings, baskets and rugs, in addition to ceramics and textiles from
travels in Asia and Africa. Five years ago, he sold 530 of his Indian
pots to dealer Nedra Matteucci and still countless vessels fill entire
rooms, line the tops of his kitchen cupboards and rest behind every
cabinet door. Within the collection are sub-collections—miniature
ceramics, for instance, and ceramic boxes, and nearly 100 pots by
Tonita Roybal (San Ildefonso Pueblo). Roybal, who died in 1945, was a
friend of Maria Martinez’s but, until recently, was denied her level of
recognition. Howard liked Roybal’s work, and with a visionary eye,
decided to collect it.
“Shortly after I purchased a huge pot of hers at auction in New York,
Tonita’s daughter came over,” Howard remembers. “She saw the pot and
she asked, ‘Is that Maria? Is that Margaret?’ and I joked, ‘No, it’s
someone you knew better than that.’”

Howard’s collection is as much a reflection of his friendships as his
aesthetics and historical interests, and each piece recalls a special
encounter. There was the time in 1984 at Indian Market when he bought
“High Country,” a painting of deer grazing in an aspen forest, from
Pablita Velarde (Santa Clara Pueblo). She told him that she had made
the painting to celebrate life and allay her grief over the death of
her daughter, Helen Hardin, earlier that year.
Curve details of a polychrome pot by Lisa Holt (Cochiti) and Harlan Reano (Santo Domingo) 13" h x 13" d
Around 1960, on one of his many visits with the Da family, he asked if
they might be on the lookout for a polychrome pot by Maria Martinez for
him to buy. They started conversing in Tewa, pulled out a pot, and
asked Howard if he liked it. When he said yes, they gave it to him as a
gift. Today it stands on a table in his living room, one of his most
prized possessions.

In his years stationed at Mesa Verde, he met and befriended the
legendary Santa Fe Indian School teacher Dorothy Dunn, and later bought
a couple of her still-life watercolors. Dunn chose two of the paintings
in Howard’s collection to include in her 1968 book American Indian
Painting of the Southwest and Plains Areas.
Zig Zag pot by Robert Tenorio (Santo Domingo) with Line break or Spirit Line at the bottom, 51⁄4" h x 53⁄4" d
“These pieces have greatly enriched my life,” he muses. “Not just
living with beauty, but knowing some of the artists. It helps me
understand the culture and environment that produced the artist, which
helps me understand and appreciate the art.”
One of his most enduring friendships is with ceramic artist Robert
Tenorio of Santo Domingo Pueblo. “Robert is an excellent potter; he
works clay well, has an excellent sense of design, and he’s
innovative,” Howard explains. “He sees things in pots that I never
would have seen.”
Scattered throughout the house are examples of Tenorio’s craftsmanship
and wit. A bowl decorated with fish was sparked by the film Finding
Nemo. A Tenorio replica of Howard’s polychrome pot is his homage to
Maria Martinez, and one with a small looped handle was inspired by a
Greek urn, circa 1400 B.C., depicted on a postcard Howard sent from one
of his far-flung adventures. The funniest is a bowl painted with three
Pueblo men surrounding a monkey in a cage, based on a story about how a
monkey fell off the train as the circus rode through Santo Domingo.
Never having seen a monkey before, residents were mystified. His tail
looked like a cow, and his face like a boy, so he must be a cowboy.
below,
left to right: Effigy pot by Lorencita Pinos (Tesuque) with human faces
on both sides. 101⁄2" h x 141⁄4" d; Detail of a large jar by Jean
Sahmie (Hopi) great granddaughter of Nampeyo. 111⁄2" h x 16" d
Tenorio’s extended family has befriended Howard, as have multiple
generations of the families of the artists he collects, such as the
Medinas of Zia Pueblo and the Ortiz family of Cochiti. In the bathroom
is an enormous dough bowl, perhaps the largest the Tenorios ever made,
by Robert’s sister, Hilda, and her husband Arthur. At his 65th and 70th
birthday parties, members of the Tenorio family cooked dinner for
Howard’s guests.
After years of fielding requests to locate particular pieces and
inquiries about purchasing a pot right off his shelves, Howard decided
to become a dealer. One room of his house is an ad-hoc gallery, stocked
to the rafters. Over the entryway is a license plate he has had for
years. It reads “Pottery,” the only advertising he has ever done.
Despite the low-key approach, he is perhaps the largest dealer-owner of
traditional Native American paintings in the country and certainly one
of its greatest experts in the pottery of Southwestern tribes.
“I’ve been at this just short of 51 years,” he adds, with typical wry humor. “Possibly in another 51, I’ll get tired of it.”
Dottie Indyke is a journalist and art critic based in Santa Fe. She is
a contributor to ARTnews, the Santa Fean, Cowboys & Indians and the
Albuquerque Journal. She has written more than 60 profiles of Native
American artists for her “Native Arts” column in Southwest Art.