Within the hallowed halls of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a subtle yet profound redefinition of "O’Keeffe Country" is unfolding, challenging long-held perceptions of New Mexico’s landscape and asserting the enduring presence of its Indigenous peoples. In a series of galleries, the iconic mesa of Cerro Pedernal, known in Spanish as "Flint Hill" and in Tewa as Ts’í P’ín, is rendered anew by Jason Garcia of Santa Clara Pueblo (Kha’p’o Owingeh). Garcia, whose Tewa name is Okuu P’ín, has dedicated himself to portraying this sacred landmark repeatedly, exploring its multifaceted character from a singular vantage point. His works range from minimalist interpretations to sophisticated plays of light and shadow, with at least two pieces capturing the mesa under the cloak of night.
This deliberate repetition serves as an act of reclamation, a visual assertion of sovereignty over a landscape that has been largely defined by external narratives. Garcia, who also co-curated the exhibition, harbors an ambitious vision: to see more of his depictions of Ts’í P’ín displayed within the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum than the artist herself created during her lifetime. Currently, his installation comprises 19 pieces, a testament to his ongoing project, which he plans to expand to over 30 works under the overarching title, "Our Private Mountain."

These powerful works are integral to "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," an exhibition that thoughtfully juxtaposes the artistic visions of 12 Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and culture bearers with the celebrated paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe. O’Keeffe’s evocative portrayals of the region have become so deeply ingrained in the American consciousness that they often stand as the sole representation of northern New Mexico, effectively eclipsing the centuries of human history and cultural continuity that precede and surround her artistic legacy.
Throughout her prolific career, O’Keeffe captured scores of Southwest scenes, from still lifes of animal bones and vibrant flowers to architectural studies and sweeping landscapes. It is these expansive vistas, however, that have achieved the greatest resonance and permanence in the public imagination. Her landscapes, much like the genre itself, were notably devoid of human figures, fostering an impression of an empty, isolated, and pristine wilderness. This singular vision has coalesced into a widely recognized descriptor: "O’Keeffe Country." Yet, as Garcia points out, this framing overlooks a fundamental truth: "Tewa people are still living on this land. We still have our ancestral place names for pretty much all of Tewa country," he emphasizes, underscoring that the community continues to thrive "within our four sacred mountains."
Despite the Tewa people’s continuous inhabitation and deep connection to the land, O’Keeffe’s interpretations continue to hold considerable sway. In a 1977 interview with Newsweek, she referred to Ts’í P’ín, which she simply called "the Pedernal," as "my private mountain. It belongs to me. God told me that if I painted it enough, I could have it." This possessive sentiment, echoed by others, has led to the region being widely understood through the lens of her work. This framing was notably revived in 2021 when the New Mexico Tourism Department utilized one of O’Keeffe’s quotes in an advertising campaign, featuring a voice-over proclaiming, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," against a backdrop of riders traversing the region’s iconic sienna bluffs.

The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum, in a significant act of institutional self-reflection and ethical re-evaluation, publicly distanced itself from such territorial claims. The museum issued a statement declaring 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 pivotal stance signaled a commitment to addressing the historical power dynamics inherent in the museum’s namesake and its collection.
This institutional introspection had been underway for some time, notably including a 2020 panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country," which the author had the privilege of moderating. The panel featured a vital dialogue with Corrine Sanchez, executive director of Tewa Women United; Christina Castro, founder of Three Sisters Collective, an Indigenous and Pueblo-women led organization based in Santa Fe; and Jason Garcia himself.
The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition stands as a powerful testament to this evolving understanding, actively working to fill the void left by O’Keeffe’s pervasive influence and the institutions that have historically leveraged her image. By centering the perspectives and artistic expressions of contemporary Tewa creators, the exhibition offers a more expansive and accurate reflection of Indigenous presence, reminding viewers that O’Keeffe, despite her renown, was but one individual within the vast and intricate tapestry of Tewa Nangeh’s history.

Among the compelling works featured is "This Land Carries Us," a visually rich experimental documentary by Charine Pilar Gonzales, a filmmaker from San Ildefonso Pueblo and a fellow of the Sundance Institute Native Lab. Gonzales’s film masterfully employs layered visuals and stop-motion animation, opening with a scene of trees ablaze with autumn color under a setting sun. Superimposed upon this breathtaking landscape are Polaroid images of elders, children, and traditional ceramics, weaving together the past and present. In her artist statement, Gonzales eloquently articulates the film’s core message: "The visuals of this film reaffirm what has always been true. You cannot speak of Tewa land without also speaking of Tewa people."
Similarly, Eliza Naranjo-Morse, also from Kha’p’o Owingeh, contributes "Coming Home," a striking mural painted directly onto the gallery walls. Naranjo-Morse utilized clay gathered from across the region, crafting a view northward through the badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, a vista she encountered on her drives home from Santa Fe. This personal connection inspired her to contemplate "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 describes in her artist statement.
The exhibition also confronts critical contemporary issues that resonate deeply within New Mexico, including the profound impacts of climate change and the enduring legacy of nuclear weapons testing. Michael Namingha, of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, presents "Disaster #8," a powerful piece depicting a colossal cloud of smoke looming over a mountainous terrain. While directly referencing the devastating Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire of 2022—the largest wildfire in New Mexico’s history—the imagery also powerfully evokes the chilling specter of nuclear mushroom clouds. Namingha masterfully positions his work in dialogue with O’Keeffe’s 1945 painting, "Red with Yellow," created in the same year the world’s first atomic bomb was detonated in a New Mexico desert, a site then mistakenly deemed uninhabited. Both artists employ a vibrant palette of fiery oranges and reds, yet Namingha imbues these colors with contemporary meaning, associating them with the Air Quality Index, a stark reminder of environmental degradation.

Other works directly challenge O’Keeffe’s perceived appropriation of the landscape. In Garcia’s "Tewa Tales of Suspense" series, a collection of comic book-style clay tablets, each roughly the size of an iPad and fired using traditional Pueblo techniques with locally sourced pigments, O’Keeffe herself appears as a character. Depicted against the backdrop of Ts’í P’ín, adorned in her signature black wrap dress and hat, a sign behind her reads "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country." However, the name "O’Keeffe" has been deliberately scratched out and replaced with "TEWA," a potent visual statement reasserting Tewa ownership and identity.
This exhibition arrives at a critical juncture, coinciding with a broader national discourse surrounding historical narratives and representation. Just six years ago, the O’Keeffe Museum initiated its examination of O’Keeffe’s role in perpetuating Indigenous erasure. Today, the cultural and political landscape has shifted, with a discernible rightward political trend impacting how history and imagery are perceived. This is evidenced by the U.S. Department of Homeland Security’s controversial posting of John Gast’s "American Progress," a tableau symbolizing Manifest Destiny, accompanied by a quote that resonated with white nationalist sentiments: "A Heritage to be proud of, a Homeland worth Defending."
Furthermore, recent administrations have proposed significant cuts to federal funding for public art institutions that champion diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. Indigenous and minority-serving higher education programs, including the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, are also facing potential funding reductions, as indicated by proposed federal budgets.

Against this backdrop, Bess Murphy, the O’Keeffe Museum’s Luce Curator of Art and Social Practice and co-curator of the exhibition, emphasizes the imperative for a more compassionate approach. "We can and should do better and work from a place of care instead of violence, fear or racism," she states. The collaborative spirit of "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" is a cornerstone of this philosophy. The 12 participating artists were involved in every facet of the exhibition’s development, from selecting the O’Keeffe paintings to be displayed to writing their own interpretive texts, which were then meticulously copyedited by Dr. Beverly Singer, an esteemed Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo. Garcia also highlighted the collaborative creation of a map that delineates the six Tewa pueblos, incorporating Tewa place names and ancestral village sites, further enriching the exhibition’s depth and authenticity.
Ultimately, this exhibition champions the vital principle of self-representation. Through artist and community-led initiatives, "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" fosters nuanced and instructive dialogues about a region that has for too long been defined by external gazes, offering a powerful counter-narrative rooted in the enduring voices and perspectives of its original stewards.

