In another day and age, there was far less value in proclaiming oneself a Native American or American Indian, reflecting the low regard with which European settlers had toward the peoples of the New World whose lands they coveted (and forcibly took). Today, as billions of dollars are spent annually on American Indian crafts and a number of tribes have entered the lucrative gaming industry, more and more people are claiming Native American ancestry.
Bulk of Native American sales in southwest United States The bulk of sales of American Indian art take place in Arizona, New Mexico and throughout the Southwest — at roadside stands, art galleries and special fairs often called “Indian Markets.” Buyers may also find work sold through the online auction company e-Bay, as well as on Native American and other Web sites. The strength of this market has led to instances of fraud, such as mass-produced items, sometimes imported from overseas and sold as American Indian-made. Individual artists also proclaim themselves Native American but cannot produce any proof of that assertion. “We get reports of people claiming to be Seminoles all the time, selling their copies of Seminole designs, when they don’t have a speck of Seminole blood in them,” says a spokeswoman for the Seminole Tribe of Florida in Hollywood. “We call them members of the Wannabe tribe.” To be an enrolled member of the Seminoles, one must have no less than 25 percent Seminole bloodline. The Indian arts and crafts act of 1990 Numerous claims of misrepresented American Indian products led Congress to pass the Indian Arts and Crafts Act of 1990, a truth-in-advertising statute that stipulated stiff penalties (up to $1 million in fines and five years in jail for the first offense) for the creators and sellers of this material who knowingly make false claims about the heritage of those who made the artwork.
Under the law, “someone who claims to be an American Indian must be an enrolled member” of one of the 557 federally recognized tribes in the United States, according to Meredith Z. Stanton, chairman of the Indian Arts and Crafts Board in Washington, D.C. The tribes themselves, as legally established sovereign nations, determine qualifications for enrollment. The federal government is bound by the law to support their decisions with both criminal and civil prosecutions. With all the reports of fraud that led up to enactment of this Act, its effectiveness cannot be based on the number of cases brought by the federal government against individuals and companies since then. The Federal Trade Commission filed complaints against two Seattle-based companies, Ivory Jacks and Northwest Tribal Arts, for mass-producing so-called American Indian artifacts in the mid-1990s. The two companies were fined $20,000 apiece. The Justice Department has only filed two cases, both against individuals. “We know there are more instances of illegal actions than cases filed,” says Chris Chaney, an administrator in the executive office of U.S. Attorneys of the Department of Justice. “There are not as many investigations or provable cases as we’d like.” However, Susan Harjo, president of Morningstar Institute, a Washington, D.C.-based Native American advocacy organization focusing on cultural and treaty rights, says merely invoking the law generally accomplishes its intent. “The market has cleaned up its act,” says Harjo, “and many of the arts fairs, competitions and Indian markets have declined applications of pseudo-Indian artists.”
A dilemma for retailers and collectors The shops and galleries offering Native American arts and crafts vary widely in the information they provide to would-be buyers. “I try to put everything that I feel someone would ask in the description,” says Bern Mayhew, owner of Sun Dancer East in Groton, Conn., which primarily sells jewelry, pottery and Kachina dolls. “I tell what tribe it is from, who the artist is and describe it as best as I can.” However, such information is only the artisan’s self-designation and does not necessarily reveal whether or not the creator is enrolled in a tribe. The Long Ago and Far Away Native Arts Gallery in Manchester Center, Vt., indicates “when an object is made by a non-native artisan, or when it contains castings or other manufactured materials,” according to owner Grant Turner. “If the creator is not from a state or federally recognized tribe, we’ll make a note of that as well.” Although the law may affect certain artisans who do not fit within a particular tribe’s rules for enrollment — “a person with a full-blooded Mohawk father and an Anglo mother will not be a member of the Mohawk tribe,” Turner notes, because of its matrilineal descent requirements for enrollment — Turner will make note of a creator’s “heritage.”
Buyers tend to trust that shop owners selling American Indian-type items have vetted these objects for authenticity. “As a collector,” says Alyssa Hallstead of Reno, Nev., “I can’t say I ever ask for proof of enrollment.” Fern Yung, owner of The Crow’s Nest Art Gallery in La Porte, Texas, says that buyers “do not normally ask many questions about the artist,” limiting their inquiries to the artist’s name and the tribe to which he or she belongs. “As to whether the artist is an enrolled member, that is of little concern.” Buyers are not concerned with tribal enrollment Purchasers understand the importance of Native American-looking objects being actually created by Native Americans, but the fine points of enrollment, heritage, lineage, ancestry and other language that fulfills or skirts the law’s mandate are rarely of pressing interest to collectors. Prospective buyers “typically ask about ancestry, not enrollment,” says Leona King of King Galleries in Scottsdale, Ariz., whose largest area of sales is pottery. “They don’t make a distinction.” The level of inquiry and knowledge about the law arises among collectors spending $1,000 or more, and it declines significantly for the middle-range market ($100-$1,000) and the tourist range (below $100). It is in the lower and middle range price of objects where the largest problem of misrepresented items is found, according to Susan Pourian, owner of the Indian Crafts Shop in Washington, D.C., and an ex-officio member of the Albuquerque-based Indian Arts and Crafts Association. “A lot of the souvenir items are imports,” says Pourian. “They especially hurt young artisans who can’t compete with the price of imports.” The Indian Arts and Crafts Association, whose members include artists, craftspeople, retailers and wholesalers, requires compliance with the law as a criterion for membership, but many of the tourist-oriented shops, which proliferate throughout the Southwest, are not association members.
Limited exhibition opportunities for Native Americans Contemporary artists and artisans must have a card from the federal government’s Bureau of Indian Affairs, a certificate of Indian Blood or a tribal enrollment number, to have their work exhibited at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, the Wheelwright Museum of the American Indian in Santa Fe, and the Indian Fair and Market, held annually at the Heard Museum in Phoenix. The same procedures are followed elsewhere as well. “Straight out, we say we want proof of enrollment,” says Ray Gonyea, curator of Native American art and culture at the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis, which also exhibits the work of living American Indian artists. The Indian Arts and Crafts Act, and the clarifications added to it since 1990, have sought to eliminate some of the confusion arising from disparate claims about who is an actual American Indian. Some artists and craftspeople have listed themselves as having an Indian heritage, background, lineage, descent or blood; others claim to be members in tribes not recognized by the federal government. The law now states that enrollment in a federally recognized tribe is the sole basis for claims of being an American Indian artist or craftsperson. Some artists and craftspeople without proper pedigree and, who may have made false claims for themselves, have been excluded from shows and institutions devoted to Native American arts and crafts. Shops accept any work with American Indian markings
Arts and crafts shops, on the other hand, generally won’t refuse to show artists and craftspeople whose work bears the markings of Indian art but are not enrolled. The market is sizeable for work that looks American Indian, and shops aren’t subject to allegations of fraud if they don’t knowingly make claims about the artists. In the 1980s, the Heard Museum was embarrassed by protests from Native Americans over a show of Randy Lee White, a painter who claimed a Sioux heritage but could not document any connection to the tribe. “He claimed the Sioux, but the Sioux would not claim him,” Harjo says. The Heard has since changed requirements for artists who are shown at the museum and at its annual Indian Fair and Market. Another painter who has been the subject of protests by members of the Native American community is John Nieto, who subsequently downgraded his claims of tribal lineage from “internationally known and highly collected Native American artist” to an artist with “mixed Indian and Spanish blood.” However, documentation is not every collector’s criterion for buying: Nieto “just looks so Indian,” says Bailey Nelson, owner of a gallery in Seattle, Wash., “that, for whatever reason, it effects people.” Native American Jewelry and pottery top sales There is no established figure for the annual sales of Native American crafts in the United States, and the Indian Arts and Crafts Association’s estimate of $2 billion to $5 billion is not based on any surveys or studies. Topping sales appears to be jewelry — the largest producers of which are the Navajos, Hopis and the Zuni and Santo Domingo pueblo tribes — with pieces containing turquoise, which is very much in demand. Pottery is a close number two, followed by fetish carvings (usually of animals) in wood or stone, weavings and Kachina dolls. The burden of proving Native American Ancestry The Indian Arts and Crafts Act was primarily written to counter the flood of mass-produced imports — “dreamcatchers made by people of Vietnamese descent and marketed as Native American, for instance,” says Chaney. However, the statute remains controversial because of the way in which some full-blooded or part-American Indian artists are unable to legally claim themselves Native American. Richard Zane Smith, a sculptor and potter in Glorietta, N.M., for example, noted that he would be in violation of the law if he described himself as Native American, because he is a member of the Wyandot tribe of Kansas, which is recognized by the state of Kansas but not by the federal government (only the Oklahoma Wyandots are federally recognized). The problem also stems from the fact that every tribe determines its enrolled membership in different ways. The Pueblos, for instance, allow people to claim tribal descent only on the mother’s side; the son of a Pueblo man and non-Pueblo woman could not be enrolled. One tribe in Alaska reportedly uses DNA testing to determine who is a member. The Hopis require 50 percent “blood quantum” for enrollment, while other tribes permit those who only can prove one-quarter bloodline; yet still other tribes require proof of bloodlines, plus having some ongoing connection to the community, which often is troublesome for individuals raised in cities. The blood quantum issue generally poses difficulties for people who are the product of intermarriage, which resulted from the federal government’s policy of forced assimilation that persisted until only a few decades ago. The Indian Arts and Crafts Act requires Native Americans to register with only one tribe, which also creates quandaries for some. “I belong to three nations,” says Michael Horse, an actor and painter in North Hollywood, Calif. “I’m one-eighth this and one-eighth that. I’m tired of explaining myself in fractions. I know who I am.” And, because the law does not respond to his personal situation, Horse has refused to apply to any one tribe for enrollment. The law “may be unfair to some,” says Gloria Lomahoftewa, assistant to the director of Native American relations at the Heard Museum who is part Hopi and Choctaw herself. “That’s why it’s so important that your children marry within the tribe.” Other artists have also called the statute unfair, claiming that the issue of “who is a real Indian?” is leftover racism from the 19th century, which the federal government in the 21st century must now legally enforce. Jaune Quick-to-See Smith, a painter and enrolled member of the Flathead Salish tribe (“with Cree and Shoshoni blood”), complained “no other ethnic group in this country has to carry a cultural ID card in order to show and sell their art.” Smith said people should ask why American Indians have to respond to questions like “How much Indian are you?” “Would a Black person or a Latino answer such a question?” asks Smith. “Not likely, because physical features often don’t reveal one’s culture.” Does the law exclude Native American Craftspeople? Among strong supporters of the law are Native Americans who recognize that some American Indians have been unfairly excluded. Craig Ueltzen of Pasco, Wash., whose enrolled Cherokee mother makes a living selling ink drawings, chastised “people who claim tribal membership just to jump on the bandwagon of Native American art since it’s popular right now.” Veltzen conceded that some tribes’ sloppy bookkeeping in their census rolls “and people hiding out during the registration years” in the 19th and early 20th centuries have led to individuals who have been unfairly prohibited from claiming their ancestry. Cherokee potter and sculptor Victoria Mitchell Vazquez of Welch, Okla., says requiring proof of enrollment for shows is “a good practice,” while acknowledging that “I do know of other Indian artists who cannot prove their Indian blood, and I feel for them.” The law, however, is strict and allows no room for sympathy. “Saying who is an Indian is not, and should not be, a judgment call,” Pourian says. “I need proof.” Considering the fact that some objects — jewelry, especially — in the Indian market shows sell for as high as $10,000 or more, the disputes over who may participate in these events can become quite bitter. The
Indian Arts and Crafts Act, for its part, does not prohibit anyone
from creating any kind of arts and crafts objects they like, nor does
it prohibit any collector from buying it. The statute may simply make
some artisan’s work a bit more difficult to find. “The
law creates deeply invidious situations for tribal people,”
says Rayna Green, curator at the Smithsonian National Museum of American
History, “as tribes become gatekeepers for a system they did
not create but must uphold in order to maintain their sense of themselves
as sovereign people. When art is thrust in the middle of it, it’s
kind of sad.” Daniel Grant is the
author of “The Business of Being an Artist,” “The
Fine Artist’s Career Guide” and “The Artist’s
Guide: Making It in New York City,” among other books published
by Allworth Press.
OCTOBER 2002: TABLE OF CONTENTS
|
