The Black, White, and Brown of It: A Sculptural Reclamation

In the quiet storage rooms of Art Bridges, three towering structures by Nora Naranjo Morse stand as silent witnesses to a complex intersection of ancestral tradition and contemporary artistic defiance. Titled The Black, White, and Brown of It, these works—originally part of a larger "chorus" of nine totems—challenge the viewer’s perception of Pueblo identity, materiality, and the accessibility of indigenous knowledge.

The Ancestral Materiality of Clay

Nora Naranjo Morse’s work is deeply rooted in her lineage as a Santa Clara Pueblo potter. However, she transcends the traditional expectations of the medium. For Naranjo Morse, the creation process is a "tactile, physical relationship with the clay," involving a months-long journey of digging, purifying, and drying materials sourced directly from the "ancestral Santa Clara Pueblo clay vein." This process is not merely technical; it is a profound "connection to the land." By insisting on this laborious practice, she engages in a subtle critique of the "commercialization of Pueblo pottery" and the intrusive influence of the "white Western art market," effectively reclaiming the material from commodification.

Surface as Landscape and Skin

While traditional Pueblo pottery often emphasizes the container—bowls and vessels—Naranjo Morse treats these totems as "surfaces" or "skins." The application of paint is aggressive and experimental; the "slip and acrylic" are "dripping," "splattered," and "swathed on," occasionally achieving an "impasto thickness" that suggests a sculptural relief. This active manipulation of the surface is likened by the artist to "leaving her mark on the landscape." By integrating these expressive, almost instantaneous brushstrokes with the ancient, slow-cured clay, the artist creates a "simultaneous conversation between history" and the "present," bridging the gap between the ancient, "thousands of years old" material and the immediacy of contemporary expressionism.

The Power of Withholding Knowledge

Perhaps the most provocative element of The Black, White, and Brown of It is the intentional obfuscation of meaning. The totems are covered in motifs and iconography that appear readable but remain elusive. The narrator highlights that this "refusal" to be fully understood is an "integral aspect of Nora's practice." For those accustomed to the "Western academic tradition," the presence of "bodies of knowledge or protocols that are off limits" can feel uncomfortable, often misinterpreted as "secretive" or "withholding." Yet, as the text clarifies, this opacity is a "vital way that Pueblo communities have safeguarded and maintained really vibrant cultural traditions amidst colonial violence."

A Dynamic Totemic Presence

Standing before these figures, one cannot help but feel their "powerful presence." The "reduction of the color palette" to browns, whites, and blacks simplifies the forms, allowing the viewer to focus on the interplay of "textures and layers." These layers serve as a "measure of accumulation and relationship over time." The title itself—The Black, White, and Brown of It—acts as a bridge between the "brownish clay colors" reflective of the Santa Clara landscape and the "jet black" characteristic of the Pueblo pottery tradition.

Ultimately, Naranjo Morse’s work forces the viewer to navigate a space where they are not the primary authority. By presenting these totems "in the round," she demands that we walk around them, acknowledging their physical stature while respecting the boundaries of the cultural knowledge embedded within their skins. It is a dynamic, challenging, and deeply personal dialogue that insists on the continuity of indigenous culture in an ever-changing art world.