BEAUTIFUL...AS POSSIBLE
The pottery art of Nathan Begaye.
By Robert F. Nichols
Nathan Begaye grew up near Tuba City in the western part of the Navajo reservation. His mother was Hopi, from the village of Meonkopi. His father's family was Navajo, from the Tuba City and Copper Mine Canyon areas. Because he is half Hopi and half Navajo, Nathan usually felt rejected by members of both tribes. Even if some tribal members didn't seem to wholly accept him, he now feels very strong ties to both cultures. Nathan did not become initiated into either tribe since he would be forced to choose one over the other. He sees the beauty in both and both are very much part of him.
As a result of the continual Navajo versus Hopi conflict, the young Nathan was always withdrawn. So he watched the clouds--they were always changing and "you could see things in them." He collected pieces of broken pottery. And he dreamed. His dreams were often of ancient villages and of caves full of pots. In one particularly influential dream, the setting sun and sky were bright red. Nathan, alone, was in Hopi walking from village to village, all of which seemed to be abandoned. Inside the one house with a light was an old woman from an ancient time sitting on the floor beside a fire. She was surrounded by many beautiful ancient pots. "As I walked in she picked one up and handed it to me. Then I woke up. I knew I had to make pottery," he recalls.
Because neither his parents nor grandparents were potters, Nathan learned on his own. His mother would tease him because those first pots were very crude. But his Hopi grandfather, James Humetewa, was always encouraging, telling Nathan "You'll figure it out." His Navajo grandmother was supportive by telling him that her aunt said someone in the family should make pottery.
Nathan received formal art instruction in the mid 70's at the Institute of American Indian Art high school in Santa Fe. But at IAIA he was most influenced by the ceramics department, which was headed by his aunt Otellie Loloma, whom he remembers with great fondness. Although she was a very traditional Hopi, her pottery was stoneware that was thrown on a wheel and fired in a kiln. But she worked with the materials "like an Indian potter." With her death earlier this year, Nathan has been "inspired how to be more open and aggressive"--less shy and more courageous in dealing with the outside world. The role of family potter has been passed on to Nathan Begaye.
A SWAIA scholarship permitted Nathan to spend the summer of 1986 at Alfred University in upstate New York, which is known for its ceramics labs--"a potter's paradise" says Nathan. The experience of meeting ceramic artists from distant places, from Israel to the Orient, doing so many different things "made me more open to things in the world…my work became more modern." He still tries to understand things in terms of his own, Indian, background. "Sometimes when I see things from other cultures, I like to think how our culture would do it." In this way he is following in the footsteps of his aunt. She used non-traditional materials but related to them in a traditional--spiritual--way. Nathan uses traditional materials and techniques that he interprets in innovative--modern--ways.
Nathan's work is always an interpretation of what he sees around him or what he remembers or was told. While he remembers seeing Kachina dances as a child and being impressed by the colors, and while he loves animals and plants, most of his designs come from clouds. The open space on a pot is the sky itself. In fact, he says, "if a pot didn't have a border the design would go on forever." Through his painting you should "feel energy--of lightning and thunder." Nathan's red pots, which relate back to the red sky of that first dream, often have the decoration outlined in white--the white border of clouds with the sun behind them. Other elements that appear in his pottery are also sky related. He often includes water (on the desert, water comes from clouds) and the sun (he is related--his Hopi grandfather is of the Sun clan) and the eagle (living in the clouds).
To Nathan, clay--like the earth itself--is a living thing. Making pottery is giving life to the earth, it is "giving the earth a chance to live." When making a pot he doesn't know beforehand what it will be like. "Pottery is my canvas--the sky is my canvas." He prays first, thanking the creator for the world we live in. While painting, Nathan says he is in a trance-like state. "I feel like I am not painting--like someone else is. The decoration just comes out. I am surprised by it when it is finished."
From FOCUS magazine/SANTA FE/JUNE/JULY 1993
The pottery art of Nathan Begaye.
By Robert F. Nichols
Nathan Begaye grew up near Tuba City in the western part of the Navajo reservation. His mother was Hopi, from the village of Meonkopi. His father's family was Navajo, from the Tuba City and Copper Mine Canyon areas. Because he is half Hopi and half Navajo, Nathan usually felt rejected by members of both tribes. Even if some tribal members didn't seem to wholly accept him, he now feels very strong ties to both cultures. Nathan did not become initiated into either tribe since he would be forced to choose one over the other. He sees the beauty in both and both are very much part of him.
As a result of the continual Navajo versus Hopi conflict, the young Nathan was always withdrawn. So he watched the clouds--they were always changing and "you could see things in them." He collected pieces of broken pottery. And he dreamed. His dreams were often of ancient villages and of caves full of pots. In one particularly influential dream, the setting sun and sky were bright red. Nathan, alone, was in Hopi walking from village to village, all of which seemed to be abandoned. Inside the one house with a light was an old woman from an ancient time sitting on the floor beside a fire. She was surrounded by many beautiful ancient pots. "As I walked in she picked one up and handed it to me. Then I woke up. I knew I had to make pottery," he recalls.
Because neither his parents nor grandparents were potters, Nathan learned on his own. His mother would tease him because those first pots were very crude. But his Hopi grandfather, James Humetewa, was always encouraging, telling Nathan "You'll figure it out." His Navajo grandmother was supportive by telling him that her aunt said someone in the family should make pottery.
Nathan received formal art instruction in the mid 70's at the Institute of American Indian Art high school in Santa Fe. But at IAIA he was most influenced by the ceramics department, which was headed by his aunt Otellie Loloma, whom he remembers with great fondness. Although she was a very traditional Hopi, her pottery was stoneware that was thrown on a wheel and fired in a kiln. But she worked with the materials "like an Indian potter." With her death earlier this year, Nathan has been "inspired how to be more open and aggressive"--less shy and more courageous in dealing with the outside world. The role of family potter has been passed on to Nathan Begaye.
A SWAIA scholarship permitted Nathan to spend the summer of 1986 at Alfred University in upstate New York, which is known for its ceramics labs--"a potter's paradise" says Nathan. The experience of meeting ceramic artists from distant places, from Israel to the Orient, doing so many different things "made me more open to things in the world…my work became more modern." He still tries to understand things in terms of his own, Indian, background. "Sometimes when I see things from other cultures, I like to think how our culture would do it." In this way he is following in the footsteps of his aunt. She used non-traditional materials but related to them in a traditional--spiritual--way. Nathan uses traditional materials and techniques that he interprets in innovative--modern--ways.
Nathan's work is always an interpretation of what he sees around him or what he remembers or was told. While he remembers seeing Kachina dances as a child and being impressed by the colors, and while he loves animals and plants, most of his designs come from clouds. The open space on a pot is the sky itself. In fact, he says, "if a pot didn't have a border the design would go on forever." Through his painting you should "feel energy--of lightning and thunder." Nathan's red pots, which relate back to the red sky of that first dream, often have the decoration outlined in white--the white border of clouds with the sun behind them. Other elements that appear in his pottery are also sky related. He often includes water (on the desert, water comes from clouds) and the sun (he is related--his Hopi grandfather is of the Sun clan) and the eagle (living in the clouds).
To Nathan, clay--like the earth itself--is a living thing. Making pottery is giving life to the earth, it is "giving the earth a chance to live." When making a pot he doesn't know beforehand what it will be like. "Pottery is my canvas--the sky is my canvas." He prays first, thanking the creator for the world we live in. While painting, Nathan says he is in a trance-like state. "I feel like I am not painting--like someone else is. The decoration just comes out. I am surprised by it when it is finished."
From FOCUS magazine/SANTA FE/JUNE/JULY 1993