Within the serene galleries of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a profound dialogue unfolds, centering on the iconic mesa of Cerro Pedernal in northern New Mexico. Jason Garcia, an artist from Santa Clara Pueblo (Kha’p’o Owingeh), has dedicated a significant portion of his practice to capturing Ts’í’p’ín, or “Flint Hill” as it’s known in Tewa and Spanish respectively, from a singular vantage point. His series of paintings, some rendered with stark minimalism and others as intricate studies of light and shadow, including nocturnal interpretations, represents an act of profound reclamation. Garcia, whose Tewa name is Okuu P’ín and who co-curated the exhibition, harbors an ambitious vision: to see more of his interpretations of Ts’í’p’ín displayed within the museum’s walls than O’Keeffe herself created during her lifetime. Currently, nineteen of his works adorn the exhibition space, with plans to expand this collection to over thirty pieces under the overarching project titled "Our Private Mountain."

This powerful artistic endeavor is a cornerstone of "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," an exhibition that thoughtfully juxtaposes the works of twelve Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and culture bearers with those of Georgia O’Keeffe. O’Keeffe’s evocative depictions of the region have indelibly shaped the American perception of northern New Mexico, often serving as the primary visual representation for the area. Throughout her prolific career, O’Keeffe captured numerous Southwest scenes, from flora and fauna to architectural forms, but it is her sweeping landscapes that have achieved the most enduring fame. These landscapes, characteristically devoid of human presence, fostered an impression of the region as an untouched, isolated paradise, a vision distilled into the popular descriptor "O’Keeffe Country." However, as Garcia emphasizes, this perspective overlooks the enduring reality of the land’s original inhabitants. "Tewa people are still living on this land," he asserts, highlighting the continued use of ancestral place names for virtually all of Tewa Country. "We’re still living within our four sacred mountains."

Despite the persistent cultural narrative, O’Keeffe’s New Mexico imagery continues to hold significant sway. In a 1977 interview with Newsweek, O’Keeffe referred to Ts’í’p’ín as "my private mountain," stating, "It belongs to me. God told me that if I painted it enough, I could have it." This possessive viewpoint unfortunately proved influential, leading to a widespread association of the entire region with her artistic legacy. This was further amplified in 2021 when the New Mexico Tourism Department utilized one of O’Keeffe’s quotes, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," in an advertising campaign that featured riders traversing the landscape.

Recognizing the problematic implications of such claims, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum itself issued a statement, distancing itself from the artist’s pronouncements of ownership. The museum declared it "did not support the use of Georgia O’Keeffe quotes describing the New Mexico landscape as ‘her country’ or claiming ‘that was mine.’" The statement continued, "While these quotes are from the artist, it is now clear that this is the language of possession, colonization, and erasure." This stance emerged from a period of institutional introspection, including a 2020 panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country," which explored the complexities of representation and Indigenous presence in the region.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition stands as a vital corrective, seeking to fill the perceptual voids left by O’Keeffe’s dominant narrative and the institutions that have historically amplified her mystique. By presenting the works of contemporary Tewa artists, the exhibition offers a more expansive and nuanced reflection of Indigenous life and connection to the land, reminding viewers that O’Keeffe, despite her renown, was but one voice within the long and intricate history of Tewa Nangeh.

Among the featured works is "This Land Carries Us," a compelling experimental documentary by Charine Pilar Gonzales, a filmmaker from San Ildefonso Pueblo. Gonzales, a fellow of the Sundance Institute Native Lab, employs rich visual layering and stop-motion animation to underscore the inseparable link between Tewa land and Tewa people. In one particularly striking scene, a stand of trees ablaze with autumn colors and a setting sun forms the backdrop for superimposed Polaroids of elders, children, and traditional ceramics, a visual testament to the enduring presence of Tewa culture. Gonzales articulates this sentiment in her artist statement: "The visuals of this film reaffirm what has always been true. You cannot speak of Tewa land without also speaking of Tewa people."

Eliza Naranjo-Morse, from Kha’p’o Owingeh, contributes "Coming Home," a mural painted directly onto the gallery walls using clay gathered from across the region. This artwork offers a view northward through the badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, a vista Naranjo-Morse experiences on her drive home from Santa Fe. The work invites contemplation on "the understated but significant acts that maintain relationship to land, preserve the Tewa language and the values of respect and reciprocity with all life," as she writes in her artist statement.

The exhibition also confronts issues uniquely pertinent to New Mexico, particularly the devastating impacts of climate change and the legacy of nuclear weapons. Michael Namingha, of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, addresses these concerns in "Disaster #8." The artwork depicts a colossal cloud of smoke hanging ominously over a mountain landscape, evoking both the destructive force of the 2022 Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire, the largest in New Mexico’s history, and the haunting imagery of atomic mushroom clouds. Namingha masterfully draws a parallel between his work and O’Keeffe’s 1945 painting "Red with Yellow," created in the same year the first atomic bomb was detonated in a New Mexico desert. While both artists employ a fiery palette of oranges and reds, Namingha’s hues directly reference the Air Quality Index, signifying the pervasive threat of environmental degradation.

Other pieces offer direct critiques of O’Keeffe’s perceived territoriality. In his "Tewa Tales of Suspense" series, Jason Garcia presents comic book-style clay tablets, each roughly the size of an iPad, fired using traditional Pueblo pottery techniques and painted with locally sourced natural pigments. In one such tablet, Garcia depicts O’Keeffe standing before Ts’í’p’ín, clad in her signature black wrap dress and hat. A sign behind her, initially reading "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country," has been provocatively altered: "O’Keeffe" is scratched out and replaced with "TEWA."

This exhibition arrives at a critical juncture, amid a broader national discourse grappling with historical narratives and representation. The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum began its critical evaluation of O’Keeffe’s role in Indigenous erasure approximately six years ago. This introspection now takes place against a shifting national political landscape, which has seen a resurgence of nationalistic imagery and rhetoric. The U.S. Department of Homeland Security’s recent use of John Gast’s Manifest Destiny painting, "American Progress," accompanied by a quote echoing white nationalism, exemplifies this trend. Concurrently, federal funding for arts institutions prioritizing diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives has faced significant cuts, and Indigenous and minority-serving higher education programs, such as the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, are also at risk.

Bess Murphy, the O’Keeffe Museum’s Luce Curator of Art and Social Practice and co-curator of the exhibition, emphasizes the importance of a compassionate approach. "We can and should do better and work from a place of care instead of violence, fear or racism," she stated. The exhibition’s collaborative spirit is evident in its curation process, with the twelve participating artists actively involved in every stage, from selecting O’Keeffe’s works for inclusion to writing their own exhibition texts. Dr. Beverly Singer, an Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo, provided editorial oversight for these texts. Furthermore, a collaborative map detailing the six Tewa pueblos, featuring Tewa place names and ancestral villages, enriches the exhibition’s contextual depth.

Ultimately, "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" champions a framework of self-representation. Through artist and community-led exhibitions, it fosters nuanced and instructive dialogues about a region too long defined by external perspectives, offering a vital opportunity for Indigenous voices to shape their own narratives and reclaim their ancestral lands in the artistic and cultural landscape.