Oscar Howe, a Yanktonai Dakota artist, initiated a movement against “gatekeepers” who restricted Native art and artists to limited cultural expressions. His efforts led to a transformative shift in the world of Indigenous art.

Howe, who ultimately became a renowned contemporary painter as well as a distinguished Native artist, motivated others to forge their unique artistic journeys.

Numerous Native artists have gained recognition as masters in their crafts, with some pushing boundaries while others equally embrace their roles as both artists and rebels.

Fritz Scholder, a painter and sculptor from the La Jolla Band of Luiseño Indians, often claimed he wasn’t an Indian, yet his vibrant impressionist portrayals of contemporary Native life characterized the middle of the 20th century.

Allan Houser, a Chiricahua Apache sculptor and painter, initially worked as a pipefitter and art teacher to support his family before establishing a sculpture school at the Institute of American Indian Arts and achieving international fame.

Charles Loloma, a Hopi jeweler, crafted intricate gold jewelry embellished with unusual materials like sugilite and lapis lazuli. His work, however, was initially dismissed by Indian markets due to being perceived as insufficiently “Indian.”

The Arizona Republic, part of the YSL News Network, spoke with two recognized masters of Indigenous art.

Part 1: A New Generation of Artists Seeks to Redefine Native Art Beyond Traditional Limitations

Doug Hyde: ‘The Stone Speaks to Me’

PRESCOTT, Ariz. — Doug Hyde wanders around his home and studio, identifying various types of stone. Massive blocks of alabaster, limestone, granite, and marble are scattered across the dry lawn.

“The stones essentially tell you what form they desire to take,” shared Hyde, who has been shaping stone for over six decades as a master sculptor in Indian Country.

Looking inside one of his workshop spaces, guests can spot a variety of power tools. Another area houses the machinery for polishing. A different building contains models, preliminary versions of some of Hyde’s well-known sculptures, along with an assortment of artwork and supplies.

Hyde, of Assiniboine, Nez Perce, and Chippewa descent, is celebrated globally for his talent in breathing life into raw stone. His artwork can be found in over 50 museums, including the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, the Heard Museum in Phoenix, the Gilcrease Museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma, the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis, and the Museum of the Southwest in Scottsdale, Arizona.

His stone and bronze sculptures are also featured in various art centers, private collections, and public spaces, with numerous commissions from tribal entities.

Significant works are displayed in numerous cities, including a prominent bronze sculpture named “Code Talker” in Phoenix, which commands attention at a busy street corner, while his “Intertribal Greeting” sculpture welcomes guests at the Heard Museum just down the road.

Despite these accomplishments, Hyde remains humble about his journey. At the age of seven, he and his six siblings were placed in a Catholic children’s home when their mother was sent to a tuberculosis sanatorium. It was during his seven years there that he learned household skills like caring for chickens and cooking.

He also received colored pencils as a gift, which sparked his interest in art. “I did some pencil sketches of the girls there, but they usually didn’t appreciate them,” he recalled.

In 1963, Hyde attended the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, New Mexico. At just 17, and never having left home before, he struggled with painting, but found a different calling in stone carving.

“Wow, this is a stone,” he exclaimed. “You observe it from different angles, and it transforms. It’s something that people can physically interact with.” Inspired, he realized that’s what he truly wanted to pursue.

Working under Allan Houser, another celebrated sculptor, Hyde made arrangements with his instructors to excuse him from English and history classes to spend more time in the studio carving.

He soon began sculpting during the summers and estimated he earned around $2.80 an hour creating pieces for the Miccosukee tribe for their casino.

After graduating in 1966, he received a scholarship to the San Francisco Art Institute, where he became frustrated with the basic art courses offered.

“I had already created over 100 sculptures, while they were still focused on plaster models,” he said.

Ultimately, Hyde chose to leave and enlist in the Army. Just three days later, he found himself at Fort Lewis, Washington, preparing for deployment to Vietnam.

It was there that he faced a near-fatal incident when a grenade exploded just four feet away from him. “I spent nine months recovering in the hospital,” Hyde reflected. “That experience completely dissuaded me from a military career.”

Returning home, he married and began working on tombstones after being laid off from a lumber mill. He carved ten sculptures and some paintings, leading to a show at the Northern Plains Museum in Browning, Montana.

“They sold everything.”

Hyde’s life took another turn when Houser reached out to offer him his former teaching position in Santa Fe. However, Hyde decided to change things up by introducing power tools in his sculpting classes, which he had adopted over the years.

As time passed, Hyde mentioned that his approach to completing his sculptures transformed. “I became more aware of how people perceive the art from different angles, and I learned to finish every side thoughtfully.”

This new awareness of sight lines alongside his growing skills as an artist resulted in an influx of commissions and accolades. After his teaching stint at IAIA, Hyde found himself sharing studio space with notable 20^th century artists like Houser, T.C. Cannon, Earl Biss, and Kevin Red Star.

“It felt almost sacred because of the creativity flowing during those years.” Hyde believes this collaborative environment positively impacted perceptions of Indian art.

“It represented a significant shift in mindset; you could be both an Indian artist and a great artist,” he explained. “We participated in museums and exclusive exhibits, challenging traditional boundaries.”

A stream of commissions for large-scale works followed. Hyde hasn’t paused in his creative pursuits. When asked about his artistic direction, he humorously responded, “My work goes to my studio every morning.”

On a serious note, he admitted he doesn’t focus on the future, but rather on his daily projects. “Currently, my octopus lady piece encompasses my entire world until it’s completed.”

“It’s hard to explain how fulfilling it feels when working with stone,” he shared.

Jeremy Frey: ‘I didn’t like that there was a ‘wall’ there’

Some Indigenous artists have shattered the confines of the “Native artist” label, striving to simply be recognized as “artists.”

In contrast to scholars like Hyde, Passamaquoddy basket maker Jeremy Frey has not exhibited or sold his artwork at Indian markets for several years. Instead, since 2023, he has been exclusively represented by Karma, a contemporary gallery and bookstore in New York and Los Angeles.

Frey’s journey from the tribal housing in Motahkmikuhk (Indian Township) in Maine, near the U.S.-Canada border, to a prestigious art gallery in Manhattan is rooted in culture, family, and the tradition of brown ash trees.

Frey has long aimed to eliminate the “wall” separating Indigenous arts from the mainstream, a goal inspired by a lifelong passion for artistic expression.

“I’ve dabbled in carving, sculpting, metalwork, and painting,” he shared. “When you’re passionate, the medium doesn’t matter.”

Eventually, Frey fell in love with the ancient craft of basket weaving, which is among the oldest artistic traditions of the four Maine tribes, known as the Wabanaki or the People of the Dawn. He has dedicated most of his life to mastering this art form.

His mother, Gal Frey, taught him the painstaking techniques of basket-making. Later, he apprenticed with various artisans through the Maine Indian Basketmakers Alliance, which played a pivotal role in preserving this craft as it neared obsolescence.

His first traditional basket was completed and sold in 2002. He mentioned in a report back in 2018 that typically, the first basket is not sold, yet he was in need of funds.

As time went on, creating ornate baskets in traditional designs like corn and acorn shapes became less appealing to him, prompting Frey to explore creating baskets purely as artistic expressions.

This commitment to evolution as an artist opened doors, including a fellowship with United States Artists. This support allowed him to focus on honing, redefining, and innovating within his ancestral craft.

Frey and his Penobscot basketmaker wife, Ganessa, were able to support their three children while progressing in their careers due to this fellowship.

In 2011, Frey made history as the first basket artist and only the second Native artist ever to win both the Heard Indian Fair and Market and the Santa Fe Indian Market in the same year.

He added another Best of Show award from the Heard Indian Fair in 2015 to his growing list of accomplishments.

Then fate, or perhaps Karma, intervened in Frey’s career.

“The first time I encountered Jeremy’s work during the 2022 New England Triennial, I recognized it was something exceptional,” said Brendan Dugan, the owner of Karma. “I kept returning to his baskets until I realized I needed to connect with the artist behind them.”

Since then, Karma has represented Frey.

The rigorous craft of Wabanaki basket-making

Wabanaki basket-making demands strength and dedication; it’s an intense and lengthy endeavor.

Initially, Frey travels to the forest to find a suitable brown ash tree, selecting one that is the right size, has a straight trunk, and is disease-free. He cuts down the tree and transports the trunk back to his studio near Bangor, where he removes the bark and meticulously separates the rings using the flat side of an axe.

Next, Frey carefully slices the rings into long, thin strips referred to as splints. These splints can be stored and curled on shelves until he is ready for the final crafting phases.

Using a specialized tool known as a gauge, Frey can now begin. This hardwood instrument contains ultra-sharp metal blades of varied widths. Some gauges have been passed down through generations, while others are newly crafted. Grasping one end of the splint, Frey meticulously drags the gauge along its length, slicing strips as thin as 1/32 of an inch. These strips can be dyed in desired colors or left as the natural light wood.

After completing this labor-intensive preparation, Frey finally begins to construct the basket. He utilizes a variety of hardwood forms to create both the basket’s base and walls, along with sweetgrass for embellishment.

Frey incorporates traditional Wabanaki materials with cedar bark highlights.

This is where his work transcends mere “craft” and enters the realm of “art.” He sharpens the splints into precise points and employs various colors to enhance the weaving. Frey invents new forms such as vases and double-wall basketry with differently dyed splints and designs that create a pleasing flow and symmetry.

Additionally, Frey embellishes some of his baskets with intricate designs crafted from porcupine quills. He keeps challenging himself with each piece he creates, fine-tuning his skills along the way.

“I never thought I would venture into contemporary art,” he mentioned. Yet, this drive elevated his mastery of traditional techniques while birthing innovative creations. “Each basket inspires the next.”

Frey expected it would take 20 years before he would have a solo exhibition, but suddenly, that time had passed, and he found himself offered such an opportunity.

This exhibition took place at the Portland Museum of Art. Titled “Woven,” it was showcased from May to September and will be traveling to Chicago next. This exhibition marks a significant milestone as it’s the first time a Maine Indian artist has been honored in such a manner.

Continuing his trend of innovation, Frey stated, “I have woven sculptures, I created a video, and included my prints. I strive to present something new while ensuring it resonates with my audience.”

Another advantage of gallery representation is that it allows Frey to focus on his art instead of dealing with mundane tasks like sales and public relations.

“I can devote my time to creating art,” he expressed.

This gives him the freedom to contemplate new ideas and techniques for weaving art from the versatile brown ash tree. “It’s truly a period of growth.”

While he appreciates being relieved from the business-related aspects of art, Frey misses participating in the Indian market scene. “I hope to return one day and take on a judging role to give back,” he reflected. “But for now, I need to navigate through this hectic period since everything is happening at once.”

However, one challenge looms: the emerald ash borer. This small, shimmering green insect, which arrived in the U.S. on wooden pallets, poses a deadly threat to ash trees and is predicted to destroy more than a billion of them across the Northeast.

In light of this, Frey has been stockpiling ash in preparation for when the species may disappear and is also researching alternative materials for weaving.

The video “Ash,” created for the “Woven” exhibit, illustrates the devastating impact of losing ash trees, which are integral to Maine Indian cultures like those of the Passamaquoddy. After demonstrating the lengthy process of crafting one of his stunning baskets, he dramatically sets it on fire to symbolize the destruction the ash borer will bring.

In a nod to the traditions passed down by his mother and other family members, Frey is dedicated to teaching the younger generation of Wabanaki basketmakers. His apprentice, Caleb Hoffman, who is of Penobscot and Cherokee descent, was awarded the Best of Basketry at the 2024 Santa Fe Indian Market.

Frey’s accomplishments continue to accumulate. The deCordova Sculpture Park and Museum in Lincoln, Massachusetts, bestowed upon him the 25^th Rappaport Prize, making him the first Indigenous artist to receive this prestigious award. Along with a grant, Frey was invited to give a lecture at the museum in October.

Despite all the recognition, awards, and global interest, Frey feels “blessed, honored, and humbled” to be acknowledged for his efforts.

“I don’t believe any one individual truly deserves this, but if it’s to be given, then why not me?”

Debra Krol focuses on Indigenous communities at the intersection of climate, culture, and commerce in Arizona and the Intermountain West. You can contact Krol at debra.krol@azcentral.com. Follow her on X @debkrol.

Support for coverage on Indigenous issues associated with climate, culture, and commerce is provided by the Catena Foundation.