Close Encounters of the Art Kind (In Wyoming)

Listen to the essay here

The scholar in me wants to watch the movie referenced in my essay title to draw even deeper connections to what I want to mull over in this correspondence. But the artist in me just needs the trailer as reference so that I can riff on it. And as this project is informed by the scholar but led by the artist, I’m taking the artist’s lead on this one. I’m writing this from the sanctuary of the ChicFinn, having recently returned from Wyoming and holding the many experiences that I’m still processing, digesting, attempting to make sense of— integrating into my new form. In this season of graduations, of regalia, of scepters and flags, the scholar in me trends toward a default state of so-called objectivity. The disembodied voice from the head that is such a disciplined force in me. Though my mentioning of this force is an attempt to lift the veil, to pull the curtain back, to prove, to assert, to argue, while also elucidating, illuminating, expanding on the heart center where it all truly emerges.

The First Kind: Sighting

“I would love to lay my eyes on the original Rosa Bonheur painting of Buffalo Bill” I said to MTA as we drove to Buffalo, Wyoming a couple of weeks ago. Apparently the idea popped into my head because we were going to Buffalo. And I mistook Buffalo Bill Cody’s home to the first part of his name instead of the last. Later, we would make a drive to Yellowstone National Park snaking through Cody, Wyoming where I should have suspected the painting might be in the quite audaciously declared Buffalo Bill Center of the West collections instead.

For those not familiar, Rosa Bonheur was a French painter who specialized in realist representations of animals and is perhaps one of the most famous women painters of the 19th century. When Buffalo Bill Cody came to Europe with his traveling troupe Bonheur and BBC became friends and she painted a portrait of him atop his favorite horse. Bonheur serves as a queer artist icon, defying gender and sexual conventions of her time through the ways she chose to dress, through the subjects she chose to paint, and through the long-term relationships she maintained with women across her lifetime. For the astute US-museum goer who has spent any time at the Met you have likely come across her most famous painting - The Horse Fair - that is a master class of  horse depictions that become more important subjects than the humans across the span of the large canvas. Some art historians have even theorized that this is a self-portrait! Imagine my surprise in the nearly 600 page Gardner’s Art through the Ages 15th edition of an important art history textbook that her work only warrants three paragraphs even as authors note, “The most celebrated woman artist of the 19th century was Marie-Rosalie (Rosa) Bonheur (1822-1899)” as the first sentence of the section.

Fun fact? Buffalo, Wyoming it turns out is not named after Buffalo Bill, nor even for the buffalo that once roamed free across these lands, but rather takes its name from Buffalo, New York. Anyways, I did end up sighting a sad reproduction of Bonheur’s painting on the famous people who have stayed at the Occidental Hotel’s gallery wall. The Occidental is a super cool historically important hotel that is currently in working order for the modern guest. Of course, in my dismay over the poor photocopied rendering of the painting I didn’t even think to grab a picture. So, enjoy this sighting instead, of a bad US President who once stayed at the Occidental and whose room is currently being used as a cool peek-in opportunity for a glimpse into the past. I did snap this image (above) because Vaimo and I have stayed at the only US Presidential house outside of the US - the Hoover House in Western Australia! What a wildly connected world this one is.

The Second Kind: Evidence

On a rainy Thursday, the Residency Program Manager extraordinaire, asked us residents at our weekly group meeting if we would like to go to the Brinton Museum in Big Horn. An enthusiastic “yes” echoed through the crowd, as all seven of us piled into the residency suburban for the journey. On the way she took us by the Golden Eagle nest home to a mated pair of eagles who had just welcomed eaglets a few days prior. We caught various glimpses of their fluff peeking out over the edge of the large nest as we drove by. As we neared Big Horn she attempts to explain the origin of the museum to the car-load of artists and writers. “It’s sanctified, or whatever the word for that is” she says in her slow and steady way, reaching for the words and admitting she doesn’t know the exact, right way to put it. But we all gather that Native Americans have blessed the space though specifics are lost in this translation of information. “There’s a plaque you can read all about it,” she ends as we pile out of the three rows of seats and into the building.

The Brinton is named for the former caretakers of the ranch that continues to serve as part of the museum complex of tour-able amenities. The collections and permanent exhibits are characterized in dichotomous oppositions - Western and American Indian. The former representing fine art, the latter a collection of “artifacts” that Bradford Brinton “collected.” These phrases are vague because that is how they are delivered. Vague provenance reflected as “gifts,” museum placards write about the significance of the regalia on display and what it “means” for the non Lakota, Dakota, Apsáalooke, Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Nez Perce, and other nomadic Plains Indian peoples being “honored” by the displays. Western fine art takes up the gallery beyond the dimly lit plexiglass cases and are of white settler cowboys wrangling cattle, riding horses, fighting with Indians, traversing the expanse of “the West” in majestic purple mountain majesty settings. Portraits of Indigenous people in watercolor and crayon by German-born Winold Reiss span the gap between the art and the artifacts, a Western perspective of Indigenous peoples summarizes the views of cultural collisions on the second floor.

The top and third floor of the museum features a rotating contemporary arts perspective and it is here that we find evidence of the museum’s attempt to trouble the “cowboys vs. Indians” dominant narrative of “how the West was won.” Taking in The Gift the viewer is treated to a collaborative exhibition of 41 Lakotan artists, musicians, and poets’ interpretation of White Buffalo Woman (Pte Oyate) giving a sacred pipe to the Itazipco Oyate. Each artwork or poem reflects the story and the event through paint, textile, sculpture, or words. A clear provenance and tribal affiliation of each artist accompanies the works. The top floor, located right next to the cafe, marks evidence of the shifts necessary for museums to undergo; provides evidence of some of the work underway.

The Third Kind: Contact

In Wyoming, the least populated state in the US, contact with extraterrestrials may, in some conditions, be more likely than other humans amongst the rugged, rural landscape. Even Steven Spielberg agrees as one can clearly see from the trailer of Close Encounters of the Third Kind when Devil’s Tower becomes an important geographic site referenced in the film. For those unfamiliar, Devil’s Tower is located in Wyoming. About a three hour drive one way from the part of Wyoming I was exploring as an artist in residence, Devil’s Tower looms as beckoning tourist site; as national treasure. Bear Lodge, as it’s more familiarly known to the Lakota (Mato Tipila) was, in no surprise to this writer, renamed “Devil’s” Tower after an expedition of white folks journeyed to study the Tower at the turn of the twentieth century. According to the National Parks System that oversees the caretaking of the Tower today, this misnaming could have been from a mishearing of Bear Lodge to “Bad God” Tower. Ahhh how so much gets lost in the translations. Petition to bring back Bear Lodge name!
Anyways, third encounters - contact - seems to be the name of the tourist game of Wyoming with slogans like this one I found painted on the wall of the Mountain Meadow Wool factory, “Touch the West.” Which to be honest, was a true highlight of the arts and culture I got to experience in Wyoming while I was away. Located just a couple of miles outside of Buffalo, Mountain Meadow Wool works with Wyoming sheep tenders and processes wool into yarn and a variety of other products that make you want to touch them. After taking the tour and taking the quiz (where a 100% correct score gets you 10% off a purchase in the gift shop) I splurged on a sweater that changed my life as I was romping around Yellowstone. A gorgeous brown/grey thread, perfectly construction, it’s such a gem of a sweater I might dare say I’m excited for another Minnesota winter to roll around so that I can live in it. I’m not rushing it, just saying, I will be warm this winter. MTA and I had such a fun time at the wool factory. We were watching a machine from up above and were called down to the floor by one of the staff who graciously took us around to our excited ooooooohs and ahhhhhhs about the magic of spinning wool into yarn. I love a behind the scenes fabrication site, and after getting to pet and feed animal crackers to Yarnold, the factory’s cool mascot, I must admit touching the west truly meant something different for me after seeing this zero waste facility in action. Even I, rural femme, was as enchanted by Yarnold as my urban travel companion. He is a very cool sheep. A sheep I’d love to paint! A sheep I’d love to paint in the style of a Rosa Bonheur. A sheep whose wool will be saved and made into something special at the factory. A sheep who made me consider calling up a special friend who tends sheep (you know who you are!) And asking if I could come spend some time with her and her sheep. A joy to think that Yarnold inspired all this in me, and that the vision of a place that truly cares about stewardship and legacy could be more inspiring to me the artist than a museum space I encountered. A good reminder for us all that encounters of all kinds are within our reach when we remain open to the myriad possibilities.

Creative Ritual

Having returned to Minnesota from a month away I’m happy to report I’m unpacked and all settled back into my home studio. I’ve created a small space outside my studio for sewing on my machine which I’m doing frequently as I amass quilted blocks for the exterior of this red work quilt painting I’m currently working on, successfully transferred from residency studio to my home studio wall. Since I last corresponded, I submitted a piece of writing to an online publication and am currently working on a submission for a show, cross your fingers for me! I’m desperately trying to hold onto the best parts of residency like freedom to do what I want to do in my home studio practice without apology. Paintings remain on view and available for your purchasing pleasure at Calendula Gallery in St. Paul, MN, and I've reopened my shop so you can purchase an ArtofKCF smaller work original now that I'm back at the shipping station site. 

Questions to ponder

What art encounters have you had recently that connect to sightings, evidence, or contact? 
It's sheep shearing season, what are you hoping to shed now? 
How are you thinking about the narratives written about the places you are connected to/where you reside? 
What have you touched? What has touched you? 

Thanks for journeying with me. I hope, as always, that you take what you need and leave the rest for someone else, or for another time. 

-KCF

The Art of KCF Newsletter is a fiscal year 2023 recipient of a Creative Support for Individuals grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board. This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.