In Between the Hills
There is a powerful presence here at K Art. I used to think it was the smell of my morning coffee or even our chatter. But even during hush moments in the office, there is still an ongoing conversation happening right beside us. Our current exhibition, "Brought to Light: An Epidemic of Violence Against Indigenous and Native Women," tells an unfolding story of perseverance and strength. We cannot help but acknowledge the artists and their continuous dialogue of the personal and the communal. Their work speaks for itself and invites us to learn about the struggles and suffering within Native communities. Detailing events both domestically and abroad, they document stories of trauma and resilience. Artist Luzene Hill, for example, installed a custom piece that hangs in our front window called Traces and Wounds and created an accompanying series of ink drawings—that portray conflict and chaos in tandem with feelings of liberation and empowerment.
Luzene Hill is a multi-media artist best known for socially engaged conceptual installations and performances. Her work reflects interdisciplinary scholarship in visual art, women's studies, and Native American culture - topics that are integral to her background and personal journey. Through work informed by the pre-contact culture of the Americas, Hill advocates for Indigenous sovereignty - linguistic, cultural, and personal control. These concepts form the basis for her installations, performance, drawings, and artists' books. An enrolled citizen of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, Hill lives and works in Atlanta, Georgia.
In her first work, Traces and Wounds, Hill visualizes a sequence of significant numbers in the history of both First People and Native Women: 1492, 574, & 6956. The first, 1492, marked Christopher Columbus's arrival to the Northeast, inciting the start of invasion and conquest of native nations. 574 represents the number of federally recognized tribes within the U.S. However, many unrecognized nations today still struggle for representation, with costly and arduous applications taking over 30 years to process and many returning empty-handed. Her final number, 6956, is the average annual number of reported sexual assault cases against Native American women. Statistically, about 16% are counted. Nationally, many cases go unreported, but perhaps the numbers are even more significant for Native women. These numbers are documented with crimson knots, recalling an Incan practice known as Khipu, and are tied through three panels. Loose strands reach out from behind, warping and twisting their way into our space, casting shades of chaos back to the knots.
This ancient practice was once an accounting device. Now, however, Hill has not only recorded these numbers in the traditional sense but also illustrated the painful understandings of history. "These knots are wounds," she states, and the "shadows of the loose chords, viewed from the front, are the traces." Each number, each account, and each wound are all encompassed by the Khipu. They are chased by a traumatic trail of consequence and adaptation—a striking reminder of a culture's past and present. These strands are also symbolic of the U.S. government and their tumultuous attitude towards Indigenous people, further bolstering the impact of the numbers 574 and 1492. History is not something learned directly; rather, it is understood by its causes and effects; we can only comprehend the pain of assimilation and assault rooted in Native history by understanding its consequences in the present day or by the shadows of the strands.
While Traces and Wounds documents a historical narrative of agony, her series of ink drawings on paper, all labeled Untitled, are a reclamation of feminine power and control. Stark lines of ink contort and play on the surface, moving freely and stretching from corner to corner. Puddles of black and mahogany sink into the drawings, ultimately protected by their uncontrollable strings. In Untitled (ABQ 1), the piece resembles a plump fruit of sorts, a symbol of life colored only slightly by a drop of wine, and clings to its feeble stem, which now branches upward, eager for growth. For Hill, the act of drawing is a relinquishment of control where vulnerability finds comfort in spontaneity, granting life to unique forms and allowing them to carve a path for themselves.
This series was created in the making of her installation piece here at K Art. The dominant bodies of color and their swirling tails resemble the Khipu, where its strands follow the knot. Hill was inspired by matrilineal and goddess culture, even thinking about the resilience of the female body with each detail. In Untitled (ABQ 2), the black trails run around their origin, forming the shape of a human figure lying in the fetal position. However, it is essential to remember that each line segment speaks for itself, unconsciously expressing a presence, she says, in her work. Both the ink drawings and Wounds and Traces are exhibited together in the front of K Art, complementing one another's palette and shape with juxtaposing meanings of power and control.
"Brought to Light" brings together the work of four Native artists: Natalie Ball, Luzene Hill; Sonya Kelliher-Combs; and Julia Rose Sutherland. In different ways, their works address the trauma and violence resulting from systemic racism, sexism, and the ingrained history of colonialism in North America. These artists seek to bring an epidemic out of the shadows and into mainstream consciousness; and, in doing so, create new spaces of discourse and understanding about indigeneity.