Visit the other museum
It will leave you with more than a tote bag
The line at the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe was long. We were just hitting the part of the trip where we relaxed, locking into full vacation mode, ready to see and feel everything. We’d walked the plaza and shopped along the Palace of the Governors. Now the iconic museum stop.
That long line did not square with the vibe. I’ve been feeling curious lately, porous in the way of spring. On top of that, I’m already familiar with Georgia O’Keeffe. (Holy Helen Frankenthaler, come to think of it, I may have hung a poster of one of her prints in a college dorm room.)
Anyway, the museum line. We reconvened outside the crowded lobby to consult the trip recommendations from my friend EB. She taught on a pueblo outside the city. I’d asked for a good hike and she’d sent an art-hike twofer.
“I love the Wheelright Museum,” she wrote. It’s near the Atalaya trail, and, we discovered, conveniently located just past an excellent drinkable chocolate shop. That morning at the Wheelright, its featured exhibition the multimedia art of Marcus Amerman, was the best travel time we’ve spent in forever.
Art in a mainstream museum can feel like a sacred holy thing that exists to be important or observed. But Amerman’s art felt open and alive, moving through fashion to persona to beadwork to painting to satire. A member of the Chocktaw Nation of Oklahoma, his art carries and re-sets Native stories. A serious endeavor, but it was also entertaining and, at times, intentionally funny (a gown made of Crown Royal bags!). Even as my own white culture is on the hook for that need to reclaim stories, I felt the artist letting me in. I was really grateful for that.
I’ve been reading my friend Jefferey’s book of short stories, which you should buy right now. Its queer, Black characters navigating present times are making me think about what people expect, versus what is real. Our experience in the Wheelright inspired similar. The art moved icons around, like they are not fixed. Like all is capable of shifting from stasis to flow. What a thought! And daring, because satire especially is often interpreted terribly.
All my art is deeply rooted in fear. I think it’s “all just Art to me.” All my creativity is about communication without words. I arm myself with different mediums and avenues of creativity for my war on stereotypes. And my desire to illuminate my culture and peoples. It’s a scary thing to not put materialism and commerce as a primary artistic motivation. It’s antithetical to this society. My work is eventually about communicating with the “other” world and being directed by the wishes of my ancestors. That’s what gives me confidence in my creativity, feeling their presence and feeling like I’m doing the right thing in collaboration with them. It’s not a lack of fear as it is “going beyond” the fear with the power of love and the mission of “Cosmic Justice.” (Amerman)
Though it’s a fairly small building, we stayed for a few hours and shopped the gift shop, too. If you are visiting Santa Fe, or live within driving distance, I hope you can get to the Wheelright before Amerman’s show ends in January of next year. Some of the art is in collaboration with Chemehuevi photographer Cara Romero—California readers can see more of her work at the Museum of Photographic Art in San Diego through October.
We were lucky to have averted the Georgia O’Keeffe line. Lucky that EB was looking out for us, recommending something better. To me, that’s the best part of travel, when it nudges you off a well-trodden path and into the new.
Happy almost-weekend.
'Buffalo Man' is amazing! I will make sure to visit that museum next time.