In a quiet corner of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a series of paintings by Jason Garcia, a member of Santa Clara Pueblo (Kha’p’o Owingeh), centers on Cerro Pedernal, a prominent mesa in northern New Mexico. Known as "Flint Hill" in Spanish and Ts’í P’ín in the Tewa language, Garcia has rendered this iconic landform repeatedly from the same vantage point, exploring its many facets through minimalist compositions and masterful interplay of light and shadow, even depicting it under the cloak of night. This persistent focus is an act of reclamation, a deliberate effort by Garcia, whose Tewa name is Okuu P’ín, to ensure that more of his interpretations of Ts’í P’ín are displayed in the museum than Georgia O’Keeffe herself created during her lifetime. Currently, 19 of his works are on view, part of a larger ambition to install over 30 depictions of the mesa as part of his expansive project, "Our Private Mountain."

These compelling works are featured within "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," an exhibition that intentionally juxtaposes the creations of 12 Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and culture bearers with the celebrated paintings of O’Keeffe. O’Keeffe’s evocative depictions of the region have become so deeply ingrained in the American consciousness that they often serve as a default representation of northern New Mexico, overshadowing the enduring presence of its original inhabitants. Throughout her prolific career, O’Keeffe painted numerous scenes of the Southwest, including flora, fauna, and architecture, but it is her sweeping landscapes that have left the most indelible mark. These works, much like the landscape genre itself, were notably devoid of human figures, fostering an impression of an empty and isolated territory. This romanticized vision has been distilled into the popular phrase "O’Keeffe Country," a label that obscures the lived reality of the region. 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," a testament to their continuous connection to their ancestral homelands. He further emphasizes this deep-rooted presence by stating, "We’re still living within our four sacred mountains."

Despite this rich and ongoing Indigenous history, O’Keeffe’s New Mexico imagery continues to hold significant cultural sway. In a 1977 interview with Newsweek, O’Keeffe spoke about Ts’í P’ín, which she referred to simply as "the Pedernal," asserting, "It’s my private mountain. It belongs to me. God told me that if I painted it enough, I could have it." This possessive perspective proved highly influential, leading to a widespread perception of the region being defined by O’Keeffe’s artistic lens. This influence was so pervasive that in 2021, the New Mexico Tourism Department utilized one of her quotes in an advertising campaign, with a voice-over proclaiming, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," accompanying visuals of women riding horses through the iconic landscape.

However, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum has actively challenged this narrative, issuing a statement that declared its non-support for the use of O’Keeffe’s quotes that frame the New Mexico landscape as "her country" or claim "that was mine." The museum recognized that "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 that began in 2020, when the museum hosted a panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country." The panel, moderated by the exhibition’s co-curator, featured 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.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition represents a conscious effort to address the cultural blind spots created by O’Keeffe’s prominent artistic legacy and the institutions that have leveraged her image and mystique. By showcasing the diverse perspectives and artistic expressions of local Indigenous people, the exhibition offers a more comprehensive understanding of the region’s history, reminding viewers that despite O’Keeffe’s fame, she was but one individual within the long and intricate narrative of Tewa Nangeh.

Among the works that contribute to this richer tapestry is "This Land Carries Us," an evocative experimental documentary by Charine Pilar Gonzales. A 2024 Sundance Institute Native Lab Fellow and a community-based filmmaker from San Ildefonso Pueblo, Gonzales demonstrates a remarkable talent for layered visuals and stop-motion animation. One particularly poignant scene opens with a stand of trees adorned with the vibrant orange leaves of autumn, bathed in the warm glow of a setting sun. Superimposed over this colorful panorama are Polaroid photographs of elders, children, and traditional ceramics, visually asserting that "You cannot speak of Tewa land without also speaking of Tewa people," as Gonzales articulates in her artist statement.

Similarly, Eliza Naranjo-Morse, from Kha’p’o Owingeh, contributes "Coming Home," a mural directly painted onto the gallery walls using clay gathered from across the region. The artwork offers a view northward through the badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, mirroring the landscape Naranjo-Morse sees on her drives back to her ancestral home from Santa Fe. This piece 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 writes in her artist statement.

Other pieces in the exhibition delve into the unique perils facing New Mexico, particularly the impacts of climate change and the legacy of nuclear weapons. Michael Namingha, of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, presents "Disaster #8," a striking artwork depicting a colossal cloud of smoke hovering ominously above a mountainous landscape. While the smoke directly references the 2022 Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire, the largest in New Mexico’s history, it also evokes the chilling imagery of mushroom clouds from atomic explosions. 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 seemingly desolate New Mexico desert, O’Keeffe’s painting, like Namingha’s, utilizes a fiery palette of acid oranges and reds. However, in Namingha’s interpretation, these colors are recontextualized to represent the Air Quality Index chart, a stark reminder of contemporary environmental concerns.

Further challenging O’Keeffe’s perceived dominion over the landscape, Jason Garcia’s "Tewa Tales of Suspense" series features comic book-style clay tablets, each roughly the size of an iPad. Crafted from locally gathered natural pigments and fired using traditional Pueblo pottery techniques, these works offer direct commentary. In one piece, O’Keeffe appears as a character, standing before Ts’í P’ín, clad in her signature black wrap dress and hat. A sign behind her initially reads "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country," but the name "O’Keeffe" has been intentionally scratched out and replaced with "TEWA," a powerful assertion of Indigenous ownership and identity.

This exhibition arrives at a critical juncture, amidst a broader national discourse about historical narratives and representation. The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum initiated its critical examination of O’Keeffe’s role in Indigenous erasure six years ago. Today, the cultural and political climate has shifted, with a pronounced rightward turn influencing the realm of visual culture. Last summer, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security controversially shared John Gast’s "American Progress," a seminal Manifest Destiny painting, accompanied by a quote that echoed sentiments of white nationalism: "A Heritage to be proud of, a Homeland worth Defending." Concurrently, federal funding for public art institutions that champion diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives has been significantly reduced under the Trump administration. Furthermore, Indigenous and minority-serving higher education programs, including the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, face potential funding cuts, as indicated by the administration’s proposed budget from April.

Bess Murphy, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum’s Luce Curator of Art and Social Practice and co-curator of the exhibition, emphasizes the importance of a more compassionate approach, stating, "We can and should do better and work from a place of care instead of violence, fear or racism." The collaborative spirit of "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" is evident in its co-curation process, where the 12 participating artists were involved in every stage, from selecting which O’Keeffe paintings to include to writing their own exhibition texts, which were then meticulously copyedited by Dr. Beverly Singer, an Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo. Garcia also highlighted the collaborative development of a map that delineates the six Tewa pueblos, incorporating Tewa place names and ancestral villages, further underscoring the exhibition’s commitment to community-driven narratives.

Ultimately, this exhibition champions a framework of self-representation, presenting artist and community-led exhibitions that foster nuanced and educational dialogues about a region that has for too long been defined by external perspectives. It offers a powerful counter-narrative, reminding the world that the vibrant cultural landscape of Tewa Country is a living testament to the enduring presence, resilience, and artistic expression of its Indigenous peoples.