Some months ago when the preparation for my new exhibition at the Museum of Northern Arizona was beginning, my friend and brother of a lighter shade, glassblower George Averbeck, approached me with the idea of collaborating on a piece for the museum gala auction. In our continuing support for this fine institution, I readily agreed. George has shown his support through various donations and verbal testaments, and so have I.
It also was a real testament in the knowledge that if we all work together to create a greater beauty, then we all benefit, and that is a good thing. It is also good public relations for us as well as the fundraising intent.
George and I sat down over coffee or something else and conspired on a piece that would highlight both of our art and its accompanying messages. We wanted a piece that would embody the best in our effort and contain our blessed creative spirit for all time. We agreed that a substantial size hand-blown glass vase would be the answer. He blows the glass and I would etch on it after it cools. This very generous deal was closed with a knee slapping, high-fiving moment.
The actual process of blowing the vase was an intense thing to witness. Bruce Freund, a glassblower buddy of George’s from California assisted. We gathered at the hottest spot in town, Fire on the Mountain Studio.
To see the blasting kiln, to feel the searing heat, and to hear the roar of this element is not what I am used to. It’s magical. I used to know it. My own grandfather was a wheelwright—a trade that required this tango with fire.
Like Thor, I still see him stripped to the waist, hammer raised, sparks flying and I as a child thought him more than human. Like my grandfather, George is an enigma still shrouded in the glowing light of his art.
Unlike painting, timing seemed to be everything, and things happen fast. Safety first, then the rolling, tapping and caressing of the piece were steps locked in almost a musical beat. The mysteries of all the glass items I have ever held in my hands are now heightened.
The result of this wondrous process is a 12-inch high German Zimmerman black glass vase. This very beautiful dark object and its shiny and sensuous surface inspired me, and so did the invitation to use tools from another’s trade.
I used an unfamiliar etching tool to place upon this vase the same image as the promotional gala painting I donated to the auction. It’s the grandfather and the grandmother tree, the “Tree of Seven Hearts.”
With a mask adorned, I went to work and play. The combination of the Earth, the fire, the electricity running the dremel and our combined contents of the heart created this, and I faced it with the right amount of respect and awe.
The sense of kinship within these particular trees from the Upper Sonoran runs very deep and very ancient. The sinewy and weathered juniper stands always as grandfather, wisdom and strength. The rough skinned and very giving piñon stands as grandmother. From her, gift of healing and food. I wanted the trees to embrace the circumference of the vase to display the power of love from all angles.
The slight vibration of the etching tool seems to share the same vein that carries my blood. It is a sacred feeling to make that very first mark. With a single organic motion, I nailed the sensuous center of the holy pair.
Why Tree of Seven Hearts? It is something I remember from childhood out on the dusty sheep camp. My grandparents lived in their hogan some distance away from ours, and it was a quiet one. I spent much time with them. Over meals, with gratitude and time, they offered up their creed in the life.
There is a heart for faith: Hozho’go’ O’, Dlaa.’ There is a heart for identity and self knowledge: K,e’. There is a heart for mirth: Dloo’ haasin, Ba’ Hozho’, the ability to find some small detail to laugh at in the face of hardships. There is a heart for the mind: N’tsaa’ ha’ kes, a thoughtful planning in the course of living. There is a heart for reverence: Hodil zin’, to sense the Godliness in all. There is a heart for strength: Aad, dziil, health of body. There is a big heart for love, Ayoo’ a’ o’ni’. Love. What else is there to say about that?
On a personal and parallel column of these virtues, it is my own journey in life thus far. My grandfather said the honor has carried his ancestors for generations in good standing with all of creation. I believe him still. I honor my grandparents and their words with this etching. With this collaboration, I also want to set a template for the Eighth Heart, the heart of sharing, art’s generosity for greater good. The correct Dineh’ words elude me now. The Heart Vase is going to have to speak that language for now.
Let’s all work together.
A professional artist since 1983, Shonto Begay spends his time painting, writing and speaking to audiences of all ages. With an Associates of Fine Art degree from the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, N.M. and a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from California College of Arts and Crafts, his artwork has been featured in more than 50 shows in galleries and museums across the country. His new exhibit,Map of My Heart, opens Sun, June 22 at the Museum of Northern Arizona.
