Within the hallowed halls of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a deliberate and powerful artistic statement is unfolding, challenging long-held perceptions of the New Mexico landscape. Tucked away in a series of galleries, paintings of Cerro Pedernal, a prominent mesa in northern New Mexico, draw the viewer’s eye, but their significance extends far beyond their aesthetic appeal. Jason Garcia, an artist from Santa Clara Pueblo (Kha’p’o Owingeh) and co-curator of the exhibition, has dedicated himself to capturing this sacred landmark, known as Ts’i P’i’n in Tewa and "Flint Hill" in Spanish, from a singular vantage point. His rendition of the mesa appears in numerous forms, some starkly minimalist, others intricate studies of light and shadow, with at least two pieces depicting the imposing geological feature under the cloak of night.

This persistent focus on Ts’i P’i’n is an act of profound reclamation, a deliberate assertion of Tewa presence and cultural continuity. Garcia’s ambition is to see more of his interpretations of Ts’i P’i’n displayed within the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum than the iconic artist herself created during her lifetime. Currently, his compelling works fill 19 spaces, a number he intends to expand significantly. "Eventually, the entirety of the piece will be called ‘Our Private Mountain,’" Garcia explained, referring to his overarching project to create and exhibit over thirty depictions of Ts’i P’i’n, solidifying its place within the museum’s narrative.

These deeply personal and culturally significant works are integral to "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," an exhibition that thoughtfully situates the art of twelve Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and culture bearers alongside the celebrated paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe. O’Keeffe’s evocative depictions of the region have become so deeply ingrained in the American consciousness that they often serve as the sole visual representation of northern New Mexico, eclipsing the vibrant and enduring Indigenous presence.

Throughout her illustrious career, O’Keeffe produced a vast body of work capturing the Southwest’s diverse landscapes, flora, fauna, and architecture. However, it is her sweeping desert vistas that have achieved the greatest enduring fame. Much like the landscape genre itself, her canvases were notably devoid of human figures, fostering an impression of an untamed, isolated, and almost primordial territory. This singular vision has distilled the region into a facile descriptor: "O’Keeffe Country." Yet, the reality on the ground is far more complex and deeply rooted. "The reality, though, is that Tewa people are still living on this land," Garcia emphasized. "We still have our ancestral place names for pretty much all of Tewa country," he added, underscoring the living, breathing connection of his people to this ancestral homeland, a connection that predates and extends beyond any external artistic interpretation. He concluded with a poignant reminder: "We’re still living within our four sacred mountains."

Despite this deep-seated Tewa heritage, O’Keeffe’s artistic legacy continues to dominate the popular imagination of New Mexico. In a 1977 interview with Newsweek, she famously referred to Ts’i P’i’n, 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 viewpoint proved remarkably influential, shaping how an entire region is perceived through the lens of her artistic output. The New Mexico Tourism Department even revived one of her quotes for an advertising campaign in 2021, with a voice-over declaring, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," accompanied by visuals of riders traversing the state’s distinctive red rock formations.

In a significant act of institutional introspection, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum itself pushed back against the appropriation of its namesake’s language. The museum issued a statement asserting, "We do 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 critical re-evaluation of O’Keeffe’s legacy began in earnest around 2020, leading to initiatives like the panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country," which the author moderated. That pivotal discussion featured prominent voices such as 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 vital effort to redress the narrative imbalances created by O’Keeffe’s pervasive influence and the institutions that have historically capitalized on her mystique. By foregrounding the works of contemporary Tewa artists, the exhibition offers expansive reflections of Indigenous presence, reminding viewers that while O’Keeffe achieved immense recognition, she was but one voice in the rich and complex history of Tewa Nangeh.

Among the compelling contributions is "This Land Carries Us," an exquisite experimental documentary by Charine Pilar Gonzales. A 2024 Sundance Institute Native Lab Fellow and a filmmaker deeply rooted in her community from San Ildefonso Pueblo, Gonzales masterfully employs rich visual layering and stop-motion animation. One particularly resonant scene opens onto a grove of trees ablaze with the fiery orange of autumn leaves, silhouetted against a setting sun. Superimposed upon this vibrant natural canvas are Polaroid images of elders, children, and traditional ceramics, weaving together past and present, people and place. In her artist statement, Gonzales powerfully 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."

This profound sense of belonging and connection to the land is palpable in "Coming Home," a mural by Eliza Naranjo-Morse of Kha’p’o Owingeh. Naranjo-Morse applied clay, gathered from across the region, directly onto the gallery walls, creating a visceral representation of the view northward through the badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, a landscape she encountered on her drives home from Santa Fe. This 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," as she eloquently states in her artist statement.

Other pieces within the exhibition confront the unique perils facing New Mexico, particularly the devastating impacts of climate change and the lingering legacy of nuclear weapons development. Michael Namingha, of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, presents "Disaster #8," a haunting depiction of a colossal cloud of smoke billowing ominously above a mountain landscape. While the smoke directly references the 2022 Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire, the largest wildfire in New Mexico’s history, its form also powerfully evokes the chilling imagery of mushroom clouds born from atomic detonations. Namingha’s work engages in a direct dialogue with O’Keeffe’s 1945 painting, "Red with Yellow." Notably, 1945 was the same year scientists detonated the world’s first atomic bomb in a remote New Mexico desert, a site initially deemed unpopulated by the military. Both artists utilize a palette of intense oranges and reds, but Namingha imbues these fiery hues with contemporary meaning, linking them to the Air Quality Index charts that signal environmental degradation.

Several artworks directly challenge O’Keeffe’s perceived dominion over the landscape. Garcia’s "Tewa Tales of Suspense" series features comic book-style clay tablets, each roughly the size of an iPad, meticulously crafted with natural pigments sourced from the region and fired using traditional Pueblo pottery techniques. In one piece, O’Keeffe herself appears, depicted against the backdrop of Ts’i P’i’n, clad in her signature black wrap dress and hat. A sign behind her, bearing the inscription "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country," has been deliberately defaced, with "O’Keeffe" scratched out and replaced with "TEWA," a powerful visual assertion of Indigenous sovereignty and cultural reappropriation.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition emerges within a broader national context of contested narratives surrounding history and representation. Six years ago, the museum initiated its critical examination of O’Keeffe’s role in Indigenous erasure. Today, however, the national discourse has increasingly shifted towards right-wing ideologies, impacting the realm of visual culture. Last summer, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security controversially posted John Gast’s "American Progress," a seminal tableau of Manifest Destiny, alongside a quote that echoed white nationalist sentiments: "A Heritage to be proud of, a Homeland worth Defending." Concurrently, efforts to curtail federal funding for institutions championing diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives are evident, with the Trump administration proposing budget cuts that could impact institutions like the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, a vital center for Indigenous arts education.

"We can and should do better and work from a place of care instead of violence, fear or racism," stated Bess Murphy, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum’s Luce Curator of Art and Social Practice and co-curator of the exhibition alongside Garcia. Murphy highlighted the collaborative nature of the exhibition’s development, emphasizing that the twelve participating artists were involved in every stage, from selecting which O’Keeffe paintings would be displayed to writing their own exhibition texts, which were then meticulously copyedited by Dr. Beverly Singer, an esteemed Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo. Garcia further noted the collaborative creation of a map that delineates the six Tewa pueblos, incorporating Tewa place names and ancestral village sites, underscoring the exhibition’s commitment to collective knowledge and representation.

This exhibition framework champions the crucial principle of self-representation, offering artist and community-led initiatives that foster nuanced and instructive dialogues about a region that has for too long been defined by external perspectives. It is a powerful testament to the enduring strength and vibrant creativity of the Tewa people, reclaiming their narrative and asserting their rightful place in the cultural landscape.