Some of the earliest known works by Nampeyo frequently depict imagery of kachinas, often from the waist up or focusing only on the mask or face of the kachina. However, by the year 1906, this pictorial imagery and figuration disappeared almost completely on Nampeyo’s pottery, with only the Palhik Mana being depicted instead of other kachinas. Through Hopi artists’ accounts, I assert that while Nampeyo almost certainly molded these pieces and should rightly be considered their maker, her husband Lesou painted the kachinas. Nampeyo herself did not paint kachinas because she was a woman, and men are in charge of kachina ceremonies at Hopi—only men with specific ritual knowledge would have depicted them at all. I will argue that internal political factors at Tewa village, Wàlpi, and the other Hopi villages, which led to the split of Orayvi and the founding of Hotvela in 1906, had a much greater influence on Nampeyo’s work than which designs she thought would most likely appeal to the non-Hopi tourists and anthropologists frequenting Hopiland. I will argue through historical accounts and interviews with contemporary Hopi artist Bobby Silas and others, that Lesou mainly painted kachinas for tourists, and this was a high-demand design that Nampeyo and Lesou would not have stopped producing if they were motivated by the art market alone. Specifically, I will argue that Nampeyo’s transition from depicting many different kachinas on her pottery to only depicting the Palhik Mana—which would have possibly been deemed more acceptable by religious leaders and her peers in the Hopi villages, and by Nampeyo herself—is further evidence of this thesis. I will examine pottery with boht kachina figuration and Sikyatki Revival abstraction to document this transition.

I will also argue that as curator and professor Nancy Marie Mithlo writes, “abstraction serves indigeneity”: Nampeyo’s abstract designs are often coded with meaning for a Hopi audience, and not meant to solely appease the aesthetic taste of her non-Native pottery collectors. I will use accounts from Hopi and Tewa artists I know personally, including Bobby Silas, Dan Namingha, Arlo Namingha, Rachel Sahmie, Vernida Polacca, and Neil David, Sr. as primary sources in this essay to discuss Nampeyo’s work and legacy. This methodology resists what Mithlo describes as the current logic of the art world: "The value of objectivity has long been discredited in a number of fields. It is associated with the values of science. The premise of objectivity holds that, to be real scholarship, the findings of research cannot have any relation to a social context—cannot have subjectivity, or the presence and influence of the researcher. This value is still often at play in Native arts criticism today, but it is masked, as many developments in the field are, under the rubric of quality … one’s subjectivity as a researcher should always be present."

Acknowledging positionality and centering relationships is itself an anticolonial method used intentionally throughout this essay because it rejects the idea that art history and other disciplines must be objective and impartial in order to “protect the quality of research.” No human is capable of being completely objective—we bring our experiences and biases to any research project, from the questions we ask to the methodologies we use. The sciences’ obsession with objectivity distorts both the researcher’s own subjectivity and positionality, as well as that of their “subjects.”

The essay will conclude with a discussion of abstraction as an anticolonial method and a form of resistance, through Nampeyo’s transition to using more abstract imagery in her work, beginning with her revival of Sikyatki designs in the 1890s and leading up to and after the Orayvi split and the founding of Hotvela. The idea of abstraction as resistance, and Nampeyo’s near-abandonment and rare use of kachina imagery on her pottery after 1906, dramatically alters the interpretation of Nampeyo’s art and legacy.

Hollis Chitto (Mississippi Choctaw/Laguna and Isleta Pueblos) (he/they) is known for their beadwork, and has been featured in Vogue and InStyle. He was the 2022 Ron and Susan Dubin Fellow at SAR and explored two spirit themes as part of his residency.

The exhibition will show Hollis' beadwork in conversation with his relative Arroh-A-Och's pottery, who is also two spirit. We also plan to include Bobby Silas (Hopi), who uses designs in the style of his ancestors to discuss two spirit identity on his pottery. We will announce more collaborators as the project develops.

We are specifically designing this exhibition for the Wheelwright Museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico because the Wheelwright used to be called the Museum of Navajo Ceremonial Art. The museum opened in 1937, right after the artist it was built to honor passed away. Hastiin Klah created huge weavings of the ceremonial sand paintings he knew, and the museum originally had exhibits that showed actual sand paintings. Because Klah's art is sacred, it is not appropriate for public exhibition, although the museum continues to co-steward the weavings with Navajo Nation. Klah is an important artist not only because of how monumental his works are, but because he was two spirit—he never married or had children, and he was a weaver (which was considered a feminine power), as well as a medicine man (a masculine power). We will physically hold space for Klah in the exhibition in place of his artworks, so that we can still tell his story and honor him as a two spirit artist.

Bobby Silas is a Hopi artist from Bacavi. He is known for Zuni and Hopi traditional pottery, as well as his revival of Sikyatki, Jeddito, and other hisatsinom ancestors’ pottery; his work is in many museum collections across the country. Bobby co-curated the de Young Museum exhibition Nampeyo and the Sikyatki Revival, and contributed to Native American Art from the Thomas W. Wiesel Family Collection.