Once again, I am in the company of wonderfully talented landscape painters. I will spend this week here at the rim of the Grand Canyon trying to capture and interpret, in my own way, the grandness of the Canyon. As one of 20-some painters from all over the country, I am thrilled to be here among this inspirational throng, among peers, fellow visionaries and, of course, good friends. This will be my third time participating in this event.
En plein air, a French expression, means “In the open air.” A painting done on the spot on the land. All while the shadows move, tested only by the undulating movements of light and shadows coursing the canyon into the lavender distances. It is a tricky and new process for me as a studio painter primarily. This step out of my comfort zone and invented reality is a challenge. But what is great music compared to the sounds of ravens, the sounds of the jays and wind symphonies through piñon pines? What is a convenient space compared to the wildest of beauty and mystery yawning before you as you sit in awe, frozen?
One has to call out the inner mathematician a poet, musician and coyote to even begin to process of fooling the eyes. I see only simple structures and colors as the only readily available interpretation. We have to give it spirit. This is our annual dance on the rim.
In preparation for this event, I had to think studio setting where my company is the squirrels, and the wide open elements. My company is also the encouraged public. I had to move into my adventure zone.
Twenty-some artists taking over the South Rim from Hermits Rest Trailhead to Desert View, from the North Rim into Phantom Ranch and other places beckoning in between. The canyon is rippling with excitement this week. The healing magic show of visual attempts begin. I have new Etch-A Sketches all ready for the knob-turning meditations.
As with any profound anomaly of the Earth, I am humbled by the presence of the Grand Canyon. I am told it is an art piece created by the ultimate artist. To be in the proximity of thus massive yawning is to be in the company of the creator. I call this “Na’haas Dzaan Bi’diyin.” I cannot help but feel the breath of the holy ones still emerging from the previous world, and the dire warning of our careless stewardship of the Earth. Such an undertaking cannot begin without proper prayers the landscape requires of me.
My participation in the Grand Canyon Celebration of the Arts is inspired being a Navajo of an Earth-worshipping branch. I am drawn to it for its many mysteries and its overwhelming presence. Interpretation of the Canyon is a very important part of my communion with it and my hopes in helping preserve it. My participation allows me that sense of healing.
Our choices of light and place on the rim are always changing and we move to race the bleaching midday light. The morning glow in the canyon as the blanket of darkness slowly relents to our perfect moments. The fiery evening sky holds onto the last of this day’s light.
These are moments not for the slow of hands. Where to set up my studio on the edge is always an overwhelming moment. We have to be able to be accessible by the public and allow them another way to capture the canyon besides the quickness of cameras. I enjoy these engagements. One child sidles up to my easel, studies it a moment and says, “Mr. Sir. You sure can paint better than I can,” or “Do you also do sand paintings?” Others come and compliment, others a respectful silence, but the reviews begin a few yards away. It is the ones you inspire, ones that decide this is how they want to memorialize their visits. With paints and, of course, with words. That melts the heart. Responding in my own Dineh’ language to a foreigner seems to connect us effectively and immediately, as it should.
When I find a space, it is my universe for that piece. I need a Sherpa to carry my studio out to the rim, though. Multiple trips to the parking lot are required of me. It takes little time to find a vantage point of interest. The first mark upon your officially-stamped canvas is always likened to that first syllable of an ancient prayer: all that follows must be in beauty.
I really enjoy the company of my fellow artists, some whom I’ve known and painted with before. I am always ready to hear them. I respect them. To see your landscape through an artist’s eyes is to see through a Native American lens. As a former National Park Service ranger, I learned to see beauty in both worlds.
I learn much from my peers. I learn to hold back and allow subtleties to reign. David Santillanes’ work and amazing use of such is profound. Joshua Been’s infectious humor and pure love of his gift reminds me of just that. Bill Kramer possesses a landscape painter’s eyes—that is good. Williamson Tapia is the only other Native American I’ve painted with here before. He can bring the Light from the darkness.
I am always happy to be part of this event. To bring artists together annually to the canyon’s rim. The proceeds of the event helps buy and establish other venues for the arts and culture here at the Grand Canyon. Anywhere art is being encouraged into a community, I am there. It will be a busy week for us. Sat, Sept. 20, we have our quick draw on the South Rim to nail the canyon in two hours after which all is auctioned off. I even let an Etch-A Sketch go at one of these. Our show of all we’ve done this week will open at the Kolb Studio this weekend. I wish to extend an invite to all. Unfortunately, my studio piece On the Edge of the Ages cannot be shown due to a tear I tried repairing myself. It’s so subtle. I see the tiny imperfection as a spirit break, a state of wabi-sabi. Though, we found a good replacement for it in Juniper Grove.
I want to thank the Grand Canyon Association for this wonderful annual event. I want to express my gratitude to the superintendent for his gracious and expressed support. I am grateful once again to be among this group of artists and friends. I especially want to thank my wonderful friend and fellow artist Kristen M. Caldon for her generosity in hosting me as the colors will soon begin to change.
