Within the hushed galleries of the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, a series of paintings captures the enduring majesty of Cerro Pedernal, a distinctive mesa in northern New Mexico. Artist Jason Garcia, a member of Santa Clara Pueblo (Khaʻpʻō Owingeh), has repeatedly rendered this sacred landscape – known as "Flint Hill" in Spanish and Tsʻiʻ Pʻiʻn in Tewa – from a singular vantage point. His interpretations range from stark, minimalist depictions to complex explorations of light and shadow, with at least two canvases offering a profound glimpse of the mesa under the cloak of night.

This meticulous repetition serves as a deliberate act of reclamation. Garcia, whose Tewa name is Okuu Pʻiʻn and who co-curated the exhibition, harbors a clear ambition: to see more of his interpretations of Tsʻiʻ Pʻiʻn displayed within the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum than the iconic artist herself created throughout her entire career, a testament to his deep connection to the land. Currently, his work is represented by nineteen pieces, a significant presence that underscores his artistic mission. Garcia envisions this body of work culminating in a larger project titled "Our Private Mountain," an expansive installation planned to feature over thirty distinct depictions of Tsʻiʻ Pʻiʻn.

The exhibition, "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country," is more than just a showcase of Garcia’s art; it represents a broader initiative to amplify the voices and perspectives of twelve Indigenous Tewa artists, scholars, and cultural bearers. Their contributions are presented alongside the celebrated paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe, whose evocative portrayals of the region have become so deeply ingrained in the American consciousness that they often function as the sole visual representation of northern New Mexico.

Throughout her prolific career, O’Keeffe produced countless works depicting the Southwest, including striking still lifes of animal bones, vibrant floral studies, and stark architectural forms. However, it is her sweeping landscapes that have resonated most powerfully through the decades, shaping a dominant narrative of the region. Much like the landscape genre itself, her canvases were notably devoid of human presence, fostering an impression of an empty, isolated desert paradise. This singular vision has been distilled into the widely recognized phrase, "O’Keeffe Country." Yet, as Garcia points out, this portrayal overlooks the enduring reality: "Tewa people are still living on this land. We still have our ancestral place names for pretty much all of Tewa country," he asserts, emphasizing the continuous human connection to these ancestral territories. He further adds, "We’re still living within our four sacred mountains," referencing the deeply spiritual geography central to Tewa cosmology.

Despite these assertions of continuous inhabitation and cultural significance, O’Keeffe’s artistic legacy continues to dominate the popular imagination of New Mexico. In a 1977 interview with Newsweek, O’Keeffe referred to Tsʻiʻ Pʻiʻn, which she simply called "the Pedernal," stating, "It’s my private mountain. It belongs to me. God told me that if I painted it enough, I could have it." This possessive sentiment, unfortunately, proved contagious, leading to a widespread perception of the region being defined solely through the lens of O’Keeffe’s art. This framing was further amplified in 2021 when the New Mexico Tourism Department revived one of the artist’s quotes for an advertising campaign. A commercial featuring women riding horses through the region’s ochre-hued bluffs, accompanied by a voice-over proclaiming, "When I got to New Mexico, that was mine," starkly illustrated this prevailing narrative.

However, the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum itself has taken a significant step to counter this narrative, issuing a statement that explicitly distanced itself from such interpretations. 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 further elaborated, "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 reflects a commitment to institutional self-reflection that began in earnest in 2020. That year, the museum hosted a pivotal panel discussion titled "This is Not O’Keeffe Country," which the author moderated. The panel 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 collective based in Santa Fe; and Jason Garcia.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition stands as a powerful contemporary effort to address the historical blind spots created by O’Keeffe’s overwhelming artistic presence and the institutions that have sometimes capitalized on her mystique. By centering the experiences and artistic expressions of local Indigenous communities, the exhibition offers a more expansive and accurate portrayal of the region, reminding viewers that despite O’Keeffe’s renown, she was but one individual within the vast and intricate historical tapestry of Tewa Nangeh.

Among the compelling works on display is "This Land Carries Us," a visually stunning experimental documentary by Charine Pilar Gonzales. A 2024 Sundance Institute Native Lab Fellow and a community-based filmmaker from San Ildefonso Pueblo, Gonzales employs a masterful technique of rich visual layering and stop-motion animation. One poignant scene opens onto a stand of trees ablaze with the fiery orange leaves of autumn, silhouetted against a setting sun. Superimposed onto this vibrant landscape are Polaroid photographs of elders, children, and traditional ceramics, a visual testament to the enduring human presence that defines the land. In her artist statement, Gonzales eloquently captures this sentiment: "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 place is also palpable in "Coming Home," a mural created by Eliza Naranjo-Morse of Khaʻpʻō Owingeh. Naranjo-Morse painted directly onto the gallery walls using clay she meticulously gathered from across the region. The artwork offers a view northward, through the rugged badlands and mesas of Tewa Country, mirroring the vista she experienced whenever she journeyed home from Santa Fe. This personal connection inspired her contemplation, as she describes in her artist statement, of "the understated but significant acts that maintain relationship to land, preserve the Tewa language and the values of respect and reciprocity with all life."

Other pieces in the exhibition confront issues uniquely pertinent to New Mexico, particularly the devastating impacts of climate change and the lingering legacy of nuclear weapons testing. Michael Namingha, an artist of Ohkay Owingeh and Hopi heritage, presents "Disaster #8," a powerful work depicting a colossal cloud of smoke ominously suspended above a mountainous landscape. While the smoke directly references the 2022 Hermits Peak/Calf Canyon Fire, the largest wildfire in New Mexico’s history, its form also evokes the chilling imagery of mushroom clouds from atomic explosions. Namingha masterfully engages in a dialogue with O’Keeffe’s 1945 painting, "Red with Yellow." Created in the same year scientists detonated the world’s first atomic bomb in a New Mexico desert that the military had erroneously deemed uninhabited, both artists employ a fiery palette of acid oranges and reds. However, in Namingha’s hands, these vibrant colors take on a new significance, directly representing the Air Quality Index chart, a contemporary marker of environmental peril.

Further challenging O’Keeffe’s perceived appropriation of the landscape are other works that offer direct critiques. In one of Garcia’s "Tewa Tales of Suspense" series, rendered as comic book-style clay tablets approximately the size of an iPad and fired using traditional Pueblo pottery techniques with naturally sourced pigments, O’Keeffe herself appears as a character. Depicted standing against Tsʻiʻ Pʻiʻn, she is clad in her signature black wrap dress and hat. Behind her, a sign reads, "Welcome to O’Keeffe Country." However, the word "O’Keeffe" has been deliberately scratched out and replaced with "TEWA," a bold assertion of Indigenous sovereignty over the land and its cultural narrative.

The "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition emerges at a critical juncture, amidst a broader national discourse grappling with contested historical narratives. Six years ago, the O’Keeffe Museum initiated its examination of O’Keeffe’s role in perpetuating Indigenous erasure. Today, however, the national political and cultural climate has demonstrably shifted rightward, influencing even the realm of visual representation. Last summer, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security controversially posted John Gast’s infamous Manifest Destiny painting, "American Progress," accompanied by a quote echoing white nationalist sentiments: "A Heritage to be proud of, a Homeland worth Defending." Concurrently, recent administrations have proposed significant cuts to federal funding for public art institutions championing diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. Institutions such as the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, which serve Indigenous and minority students, are also facing potential funding reductions, underscoring the precarious landscape for arts and cultural organizations that prioritize representation and inclusivity.

"We can and should do better and work from a place of care instead of violence, fear or racism," stated Bess Murphy, the O’Keeffe Museum’s Luce Curator of Art and Social Practice and co-curator of the exhibition. Murphy emphasized the collaborative spirit of the project, noting that the twelve featured artists were involved in every stage of its development. They collectively selected the O’Keeffe paintings to be included and penned their own exhibition texts, which were then meticulously copyedited by Dr. Beverly Singer, a distinguished Indigenous anthropologist from Santa Clara Pueblo. Garcia further highlighted the collaborative nature of the project, mentioning the creation of a map that delineates the six Tewa pueblos, incorporating Tewa place names and ancestral village sites, a testament to shared knowledge and cultural heritage.

Ultimately, the "Tewa Nangeh/Tewa Country" exhibition champions a crucial framework of self-representation. Through artist and community-led exhibitions like this, nuanced and instructive dialogues are fostered about a region that has for too long been defined and understood through the gaze of outsiders. It offers a vital counter-narrative, asserting the enduring presence, rich cultural heritage, and sovereign voice of the Tewa people.