In the hushed galleries of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a striking collection of artworks is challenging long-held perceptions of the Northern New Mexico landscape. Titled "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," the exhibition thoughtfully juxtaposes the iconic works of Georgia O’Keeffe with the vibrant, contemporary expressions of twelve Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and culture bearers. This powerful collaboration aims to reassert the enduring presence and narrative of the Tewa people on lands often solely associated with O’Keeffe’s celebrated, yet at times, exclusionary vision.

A central figure in this reclamation is Jason Garcia, of Santa Clara Pueblo (Kha’p’o Owingeh), whose Tewa name is Okuu P’o. Within the museum’s walls, a series of his paintings depict Cerro Pedernal, a significant mesa in northern New Mexico known to the Spanish as "Flint Hill" and to the Tewa people as Ts’i’ P’o. Garcia has rendered this sacred mountain repeatedly, exploring it from a singular vantage point through various artistic lenses, from minimalist interpretations to dramatic plays of light and shadow, even capturing its enigmatic presence under the cloak of night. This deliberate repetition is not merely an artistic exercise; it is an act of profound cultural reclamation. Garcia’s ambition is to have more of his interpretations of Ts’i’ P’o displayed in the O’Keeffe Museum than O’Keeffe herself created during her lifetime. Currently, nineteen of his works are installed, and he envisions a larger project, "Our Private Mountain," which will ultimately comprise over thirty depictions of the iconic geological formation.

O’Keeffe’s sweeping landscapes, devoid of human figures, have indelibly shaped the American imagination, transforming Northern New Mexico into what is popularly known as "O’Keeffe Country." Her prolific output of Southwest scenes, from animal bones and desert flowers to adobe buildings, has cemented her visual legacy, often to the exclusion of the land’s original inhabitants. This romanticized, yet empty, portrayal of a desert paradise has been distilled into a singular, pervasive narrative. However, as Garcia points out, "Tewa people are still living on this land. We still have our ancestral place names for pretty much all of Tewa country," emphasizing that the region remains a vibrant, lived-in homeland, intrinsically connected to its Indigenous peoples who continue to reside within their four sacred mountains.

O’Keeffe’s own pronouncements about the land, such as her 1977 statement in Newsweek that Ts’i’ P’o was "my private mountain. It belongs to me. God told me that if I painted it enough, I could have it," highlight a perspective that, while influential, overlooked the deep, ancestral connections of the Tewa people. This sentiment of proprietary ownership extended to broader marketing efforts; in 2021, the New Mexico Tourism Department revived another of O’Keeffe’s quotes, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," for an advertising campaign, further solidifying the association of the landscape with her singular ownership.

Recognizing the problematic nature of such claims, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum itself took a critical stance, issuing a statement that 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 museum acknowledged that "while these quotes are from the artist, it is now clear that this is the language of possession, colonization, and erasure." This institutional self-reflection began prior to the "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition, notably with a 2020 panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country," moderated by the exhibition’s co-curator, Bess Murphy. The panel featured prominent voices such as Corrine Sanchez, executive director of Tewa Women United, and Christina Castro, founder of the Three Sisters Collective, alongside Jason Garcia, all of whom contributed significantly to the museum’s evolving dialogue.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition serves as a crucial counter-narrative, filling the visual and historical gaps left by O’Keeffe’s dominant presence and the institutions that have amplified her mystique. It offers a more expansive and authentic reflection of Indigenous presence, reminding viewers that O’Keeffe, for all her renown, was but one individual within the long and complex history of Tewa Nangeh.

Among the compelling works on display is This Land Carries Us, an 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 rich visual layering and stop-motion animation to weave together scenes of autumnal trees bathed in sunset light with superimposed Polaroids of elders, children, and traditional ceramics. Her artistic statement powerfully articulates the exhibition’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."

Eliza Naranjo-Morse, also of Kha’p’o Owingeh, contributes Coming Home, a breathtaking mural painted directly onto the gallery walls. Naranjo-Morse utilized clay gathered from across the region, creating a visceral connection between the artwork and the land it represents. The mural captures the northward view through the badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, evoking the artist’s own journey home from Santa Fe. Her work prompts 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."

The exhibition also confronts pressing contemporary issues that uniquely impact New Mexico, including the devastating consequences of climate change and the lingering legacy of nuclear weapons development. Michael Namingha, of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, presents Disaster #8, a powerful piece depicting a colossal cloud of smoke hovering ominously above a mountain landscape. While directly referencing the 2022 Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire, the largest wildfire in New Mexico’s history, the smoky mass also powerfully evokes the chilling imagery of atomic mushroom clouds. Namingha’s work engages in a direct dialogue with O’Keeffe’s 1945 painting Red with Yellow, created in the same year the first atomic bomb was detonated in a New Mexico desert deemed "unpopulated." Both artists utilize a fiery palette of acid oranges and reds, but Namingha reinterprets these colors to represent the Air Quality Index, a stark reminder of contemporary environmental anxieties.

Other artists directly challenge O’Keeffe’s perceived appropriation of the landscape. In Jason Garcia’s Tewa Tales of Suspense series, a collection of comic book-style clay tablets approximately the size of iPads, he humorously reimagines O’Keeffe. In one tablet, O’Keeffe, clad in her signature black wrap dress and hat, stands before Ts’i’ P’o. A sign behind her, initially reading "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country," has been deliberately altered, with "O’Keeffe" scratched out and replaced with "TEWA," a potent visual assertion of Indigenous ownership and a playful yet profound critique of colonial narratives.

The exhibition arrives at a moment of heightened cultural and political tension regarding historical narratives and representation. Six years ago, the O’Keeffe Museum initiated its critical examination of O’Keeffe’s role in Indigenous erasure. Today, the broader national discourse has increasingly tilted rightward, impacting the interpretation and presentation of art and heritage. Recent events, such as the U.S. Department of Homeland Security’s posting of John Gast’s American Progress with a quote echoing white nationalism, and the Trump administration’s proposed budget cuts to arts institutions prioritizing diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives, underscore the urgent need for exhibitions like "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country." Such initiatives, particularly those impacting institutions like the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, highlight the vulnerability of Indigenous and minority-serving educational programs.

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." The collaborative spirit of the exhibition is evident in its participatory curation process, where the twelve featured artists were involved in every stage, from selecting O’Keeffe’s works to be displayed to writing their own accompanying exhibition text, which was then meticulously reviewed by Dr. Beverly Singer, an Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo. Garcia also notes the collaborative creation of a map detailing the six Tewa pueblos, featuring Tewa place names and ancestral villages, further enriching the exhibition’s contextual depth.

Ultimately, "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" champions the power of self-representation. Through artist and community-led exhibitions, it fosters nuanced and instructive dialogues, offering a vital corrective to a region too long defined by external perspectives. This exhibition is a testament to the enduring resilience and cultural vitality of the Tewa people, reclaiming their rightful place in the narrative of their ancestral homeland.