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    Nicholas Galanin Hews Visions of the Present From Indigenous Knowledge, Land, and Memory

    “Never Forget” (2021), steel and paint, 59 feet 4 inches x 360 feet 7 inches. Photo by Lance Gerber. All images courtesy of the artist and Peter Blum Gallery, New York, shared with permission

    Nicholas Galanin Hews Visions of the Present From Indigenous Knowledge, Land, and Memory

    December 24, 2024

    ArtHistorySocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

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    Between 1869 and the 1960s in the U.S., thousands of Indigenous children attended at least 523 boarding schools, supported by the government and church groups that were fueled by the grim motto, “Kill the Indian, Save the Man.”

    Children were sent hundreds, if not thousands, of miles from their families and tribal communities, suffering horrific abuse, and in many cases, dying as a result. Federal agents often abducted minors, who were sent to school and punished severely if they spoke their Native languages. By 1926, nearly 83 percent of Indigenous school-age children were enrolled.

    “Loom” (2022), prefab children’s school desks and chairs with graphite and pencil carving
    100 x 83 x 54 inches. Photo by Jason Wyche. Image courtesy of the artist; Peter Blum Gallery, New York; and the Gochman Family Collection

    The National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition explains that the purpose of the schools was “expressly intended to implement cultural genocide through the removal and reprogramming of American Indian and Alaska Native children to accomplish the systematic destruction of Native cultures and communities.”

    In October, the U.S. government issued a formal apology for its role in the boarding schools, yet efforts will long continue to fully understand, process, and begin to heal the trauma.

    For Tlingit-Unangax̂ artist Nicholas Galanin, looking to the past is fundamental to constructing a more nuanced perception of the present. His multidisciplinary practice “aims to redress the widespread misappropriation of Indigenous visual culture, the impact of colonialism, as well as collective amnesia,” says a statement from Peter Blum Gallery, which represents the artist and is currently showing Galanin’s solo exhibition, The persistence of Land claims in a climate of change.

    “We can sharpen our vision of the present with cultural knowledge and memory,” Galanin says. “These works embody cultural memory and practice, reflecting persistence, sacrifice, violence, refusal, endurance, and resistance.”

    “White Flag” (2022), trimmed polar bear rug and wood, polar bear: 50 x 78 inches; wood: 10 1/2 x 6 1/4 inches. Image courtesy of the artist; Peter Blum Gallery, New York; and Gochman
    Family Collection. Photo by Jason Wyche

    Based in Sitka, Alaska, Galanin often incorporates traditional Tlingit and Unangax̂ art forms into contemporary sculptures and installations. “The Imaginary Indian (Garden),” for example, takes as its starting point a totem pole, a customarily towering representation of animals hewn from a single tree that is deeply imbued with spiritual and social significance.

    In “3D Consumption Illustration,” Galanin comments on a lack of respect for the art form by cutting up a single totem figure like firewood, as if it’s disposable or merely decorative. In “Loom,” he stacks a series of ready-made children’s desks into a winged, totem pole-like tower to memorialize the children who suffered in residential schools.

    Galanin’s often provocative work emphasizes the inherent power of symbols and associations. A polar bear pelt stands in for fabric in “White Flag,” a nod to a symbol for surrender, which draws attention to the increasingly stark effects of the climate crisis on the arctic and on Native peoples’ way of life.

    In Miami earlier this month, masts and rigging emerged from the sand as if a Spanish galleon had been buried beneath the beach. The sails boldly asked in both English and Spanish: “What are we going to give up to burn the sails of empire?” and “What are we going to build for our collective liberation?”

    “The Imaginary Indian (Garden)” (2024), Indonesian replica of a Lingít totem with Victorian wallpaper, installation dimensions variable; totem: 81 1/4 x 69 3/4 x 17 3/4 inches. Photo by Jason Wyche

    The installation, titled “Seletega (run, see if people are coming/corre a ver si viene gente),” tapped into the European colonization of North America and its aim of extracting wealth, establishing cities and commerce, and expanding westward at the dire expense of Indigenous peoples.

    In The persistence of Land claims in a climate of change, Galanin continues to highlight the “Indigenous cultural continuum,” says a gallery statement, defying cultural erasure and refusing the legitimacy of colonial occupation. “Galanin reflects on the distance between peace and justice by centering the enduring Indigenous protection of Land in the face of expansive extraction.”

    Through photography, monotypes, and sculptural works in ceramic, bronze, and wood, the artist reflects on systems of racial oppression and disenfranchisement, Indigenous knowledge and responsibility, and the importance of collectivity and connection as we proceed into the future.

    Galanin is the recipient of a slew of prestigious awards recently, including a Joan Mitchell Fellowship in 2023 and both the Guggenheim Fellowship and Don Tyson Prize this year. See more of his work on Instagram, and if you’re in New York, visit The persistence of Land claims in a climate of change until January 18.

    “Seletega” (2024), site specific commission,
    dimensions variable. Photo by Oriol Tarridas. Image courtesy of the artist and Faena Art

    “Neon American Anthem (red)” (2023), neon installation, 7 x 16 feet. Photo by Brad Tone

    “The Value of Sharpness: When it Falls” (2019), 60 porcelain hatchets, 13 1/4 x 5 x 1 inches each; installation variable. Photo by Thomas Mccarty. Image courtesy of the artist; Peter Blum
    Gallery, New York; and the Gochman Family Collection

    Detail of “The Value of Sharpness: When it Falls”

    “The American Dream is Alie and Well” (2012), U.S. flag, felt, .50 cal ammunition, foam, gold leaf and plastic, 84 x 84 x 9 inches. Photo by Jason Wyche. Image courtesy of the artist; Peter Blum Gallery, New York; and Sheldon Museum of Art, Nebraska

    Detail of “The Imaginary Indian (Garden)”

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    Our Favorite Stories of 2024

    All images © Todd Antony, shared with permission

    Our Favorite Stories of 2024

    December 13, 2024

    ArtColossalHistoryPhotographySocial Issues

    Colossal

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    As we look back at the hundreds of remarkable initiatives, artworks, discoveries, and events we’ve chronicled throughout 2024, we’re continually awed by the creative work we’re able to write about everyday. It’s a privilege to be able to share so much creativity with you, and we thought we’d compile a list of our favorites.

    Below, you’ll find eight picks—two from each of us—that showcase just a few of the remarkable projects we published over the past twelve months. Many of these articles impart deeper context, delve into personal experiences through interviews, and highlight important stories that may have flown under the radar.

    You might also enjoy our readers’ choice top articles of the year and Colossal’s favorite books of 2024. Happy reading!

    —Christopher, Grace, Kate, and Jackie

    Image © Irina Werning

    Jackie’s Pick: In ‘Las Pelilargas,’ Irina Werning Celebrates the Impeccably Long Hair of Latin American Women and Girls

    For the last 17 years, Irina Werning has traveled throughout Latin America photographing women and girls for her ongoing series, Las Pelilargas, or The Longhairs. Shot in color and black and white, the portraits document a distinct cultural practice through an incredibly alluring, even surreal lens.

    L.V. Hull at her home in Kosciusko, Mississippi, in 2002. Photo by Bruce West. Image courtesy of the L.V. Hull Legacy Center

    Grace’s Pick: The Home Studio of the Late Artist L.V. Hull Is Added to the National Register of Historic Places

    Kosciusko is a small town in the center of Mississippi with just under 7,000 residents. Known as the birthplace of Oprah Winfrey, Kosciusko was also home to the late artist L.V. Hull (1942–2008) who devoted her life to painting and assembling found objects.

    Ellie Hannon works on one of her paintings on the aft deck during sunset on the Timor Sea around Ashmore Reef. Images © Schmidt Ocean Institute

    Kate’s Pick: Art and Science Set Sail in Schmidt Ocean Institute’s Artist-at-Sea Program

    “There are many ways to tell a story or to document and share research and discoveries,” says artist Ellie Hannon, one of 54 artists who have embarked on a unique residency organized by the Schmidt Ocean Institute. From slip-cast porcelain and painting to 3D printing and virtual reality, the storytelling possibilities are endless in the Artist-at-Sea program, which invites artists to work alongside scientists on weeks-long expeditions into some of the least-explored areas of our oceans. More

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    Marilou Schultz Weaves Computer Processor Patterns in Traditional Navajo Tapestries

    “Replica of a Chip” (1994), wool mounted on wood, 120 × 146.1 centimeters. Photo © Museum Associates/LACMA. Image courtesy of American Indian Science and Engineering Society, shared with permission

    Marilou Schultz Weaves Computer Processor Patterns in Traditional Navajo Tapestries

    November 14, 2024

    ArtCraftDesignHistory

    Kate Mothes

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    What does Intel’s Pentium computer chip have in common with Navajo textiles? More than you might think.

    For artist Marilou Schultz, the ancestral practice of weaving melds with an unexpected contemporary source of inspiration. Merging analog loom methods with the patterns found on computer processor cores, Schultz entwines the histories of the Navajo people and modern technology.

    Detail of Intel Pentium core processor die

    In the late 17th century, Spanish colonists introduced a breed of sheep called the Iberian Churro to the American Southwest. The Diné—known also as Navajo—who had lived in the Four Corners region for hundreds of years, embraced shepherding and wool production, eventually developing a unique breed still managed today, the Navajo-Churro.

    Along with an aptitude for raising sheep, Diné weaving traditions flourished. Anthropologists surmise that the craft was adopted from the neighboring Puebloans sometime in the 12th or 13th centuries. As time passed, Navajo styles and techniques evolved, rising to popularity first among Plains Indian tribes and then, in the 19th century, with Europeans and non-Native tourists who sought out blankets and rugs for their remarkable craftsmanship and geometric patterns.

    Schultz, a mathematician and teacher in addition to her studio practice, was commissioned by Intel in 1994 to make “Replica of a Chip” as a gift to the American Indian Science & Engineering Society, an organization still active today that focuses on advancing Indigenous people in STEM. As computer historian Ken Schirriff details in a thorough blog post about the piece—especially its highly accurate layout—the work highlights the alluring patterns of a trailblazing piece of technology.

    Detail of “Replica of a Chip”

    The first Pentium processor was released in 1993. About the size of a fingernail, the die—the material on which the processor is fabricated—contains more than three million transistors. These microscopic switches control the flow of electricity to process data. Today, some high-powered chips contain billions of transistors.

    Schultz faithfully transferred the die pattern to a tapestry, employing delicate loom techniques and working from a photograph of the chip. Unlike traditional Navajo textiles, the geometries in “Replica of a Chip” are far from symmetrical.

    She used yarn pigmented with plant dyes, and the cream-colored regions are the natural shade of Navajo-Churro wool. Schultz told Schirriff that the weaving process was slow and deliberate as she referenced the image, completing about one to one-and-a-half inches per day. The painstaking and methodical process of sending warp through weft creates a beautiful tension between the instantaneous results we associate with digital tools today.

    Intel Pentium processors

    “Replica of a Chip” was the first in a series of weavings Schultz created based on computer circuits, including one known as the Fairchild 9040. While not as common as the Pentium, the Fairchild company is notable for its employment of Navajo workers in its operation in Shiprock, New Mexico—within the Navajo Nation—in the 1960s and 1970s.

    Part of a government initiative to try to improve the economic conditions of life on the reservation, Fairchild was incentivized to open a manufacturing center in Shiprock. “The project started in 1965 with 50 Navajo workers in the Shiprock Community Center manufacturing transistors, rapidly increasing to 366 Navajo workers,” Schirriff says. Eventually, the company “employed 1,200 workers, and all but 24 were Navajo, making Fairchild the nation’s largest non-government employer of American Indians.”

    In 1975, the Fairchild-Navajo partnership took a dramatic turn that spelled its demise. With the semiconductor industry suffering from the crippling U.S. recession at the time, Fairchild laid off 140 Navajo employees in Shiprock, which today still has a population of only a little more than 8,000 residents. The layoffs were a blow to the community. A group of 20 locals, armed with rifles, responded by occupying the plant for a week.

    While the episode eventually ended peaceably, Fairchild decided to shutter entirely and move its operation overseas, further compromising trust in corporate interests on Navajo land.

    Women’s roles in manufacturing and assembling electronics are often under-recognized. Schultz taps into ideas around gendered labor, visibility, and the slippery notion of “progress.” Through the lens of Navajo history and craft, she addresses paradigm shifts in technology, economics, and social change through the language of fiber.

    You can see “Replica of a Chip” in Woven Histories: Textiles and Modern Abstraction at the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa, which continues through March 2, 2025.

    Detail of “”Replica of a Chip”

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    A Vibrant Ndebele Mural by Esther Mahlangu Illuminates Unity at Serpentine North

    “Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu” (2024), Serpentine North Garden. Photo by George Darrell. Image courtesy of Serpentine and The Melrose Gallery, shared with permission

    A Vibrant Ndebele Mural by Esther Mahlangu Illuminates Unity at Serpentine North

    October 10, 2024

    Art

    Kate Mothes

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    For more than eight decades, Dr. Esther Mahlangu has been creating large-scale, site-specific works that draw on the artistic traditions of Ndebele culture.

    Known for her vibrant, patterned compositions, Mahlangu learned techniques for decorating houses from her mother and grandmother while growing up in South Africa. She mixes natural pigments with clay, soil, and cow dung to paint directly on the exteriors of structures in her village.

    Photo by George Darrell

    Ndebele house painting emerged in the mid-18th century when the matrilineal tribe began to build huts out of mud rather than grass. Women applied colorful patterns to the walls to not only brighten the village but also communicate with others.

    The geometric shapes, characterized by bold, black outlines, serve as a visual language to express personal values, prayers, or major life events.

    Mahlangu paints by hand without using stencils or masking tape, employing chicken feathers and various brushes to create painstaking geometries that preserve a handmade quality. Over time, she has also created numerous works on canvas, using acrylic to broaden the range of hues in her work.

    Esther Mahlangu photographed by Clint Strydom, courtesy of The Melrose Gallery

    At Serpentine North in Hyde Park, London, Mahlangu’s first installation the U.K. was unveiled this week on a wall in the gallery’s garden.

    Comprising six wooden panels, the monumental mural celebrates unity and community and taps into an Ndebele philosophy: “Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu,” which translates to: “I am because you are.”

    The mural remains on view through September 28, 2025. Plan your visit on the Serpentine website, and learn more about Mahlangu’s remarkable work and career on her website and Instagram.

    Photo by Clint Strydom, courtesy of The Melrose Gallery

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