Desert Chief

A Florida restaurant chain with a Western theme contacted me wanting a mural. Their
budget was unrealistic so it was decided I would do the painting, send them a full size
computer reproduction, and retain the original to sell.

For a historical piece I search out every resource I can find about the subject, looking for
visual and written materials in libraries, archives, private homes, bookstores. For "Desert
Chief" I visited four museums in Los Angeles - photographing everything pertinent, building
a file of visual images of each potential subject for the mural. I also seek out Western art
studying how artists have approached similar paintings. When I see how other artists have
dealt with the same topic in the past it frees me from having to go in that direction myself,
encouraging me to find a new approach.

As I gather these images certain photographs start to reappear in my thoughts. I will
begin separating these photos from the others -- juxtaposing one photo next to another
creating visual relationships.

For this painting I had in mind a face in three-quarter view - an image almost impossible
to find. Most photos taken in the 1800s are very stiff - people looking straight at the camera
or in profile. It is important to me to determine the feeling the painting will have before I
begin. The people I paint need to look relaxed, as if they are really living in the space they
occupy on the canvas. It took a week of looking and when I found the image it was spec-
tacular - in this man's face was the nobility and pain of someone who had survived the
history of war and near genocide.

In 1951 my father was commissioned to do a 25' x 25' stairway wall mural for the admin-
istration building at Arizona State college in Tempe, Arizona. Below the stairs he painted
"Preparing Anti-venom Serum" a portrait of the famous Dr. Stanky who developed snake
antivenin. Entering Dr. Stanky's laboratory was an adventure, walking down the aisles of
cages filled with venomous bugs and reptiles. I would be told as little white scorpions were
lifted up by tweezers, "The poison of this scorpion will kill a man in two minutes." That
impressed me.

Papa's mural above the stairs was "Hopi Snake Dance." Which turned out spectacular.
As he researched his subject before painting we, his family, would tag along. This afforded
me, as a child, the good fortune of spending time around the Hopi villages, playing with the
children and getting to know the families. In the 1950's the villages and the people looked
exactly the same as the 1880s photos I was gathering in my research -- what I was finding
had a feeling of familiarity.

Because Papa was working for the university, access to the culture was made available.
When we went to see the Snake Dance it was not being performed for tourists but because
there was a drought that needed to be prayed away. A few outsiders had found access and
were accommodated in a corner of the courtyard. The dance started and was impressive -
well toned painted men danced into the center of the courtyard two by two. The drum beat,
the constant rhythm of the anklet bells all added to creating a state of mass hypnosis. The
wild rattlers - carried in the mouths of the dancers - were tickled with feathers. One snake
slipped to the ground and crawled over to a visitor, there was no panic as the dancer picked
the snake up inches before it contacted the young lady. If a tourist photoed the dancers a
tribal police officer would calmly remove the film from the camera, exposing and destroying
the images. At the end of the dance when the drums came to a sudden stop the rain
started. The dance prayer had worked, the long drought was over.

We stayed one night at a small motel located below a mesa. That morning as the Hopi
Sheriff visited with my dad, my sister Ann, my brother John and I decided to go for a hike.
We scrambled up the mesa finding broken Indian pot shards as we progressed towards the
top. We happened upon a small trail and started to follow it. The trail led into a rock tunnel
about 100 feet long. As we came out of the tunnel we found ourselves on a ledge platform.
In front of us the mesa was split, clean sheer walls rising way above us to the top of the
mesa and descending way below us to a cave pocked floor. Scattered across the floor and
sticking in and out of the caves bleached human skeletons were seen. In front of us at the
same level as the rock ledge we stood on, large flat spans of rock had been wedged be-
tween the two walls -- probably a 30 foot expanse from one side to the other - these flat
surfaces occurred every 50 feet receding down the mesa crack into the distance. Laid out
on each suspended rock bed was an Indian chief, wrapped in woven blankets, their long
hair combed neatly back from their white skulls. A totally striking view. We realized we had
stumbled onto a secret burial place, probably never seen by non-tribe members before.
We rushed back to Papa. As we explained to him what we had found, the sheriff he was
meeting with turned white with fear. Later Papa accompanied us to see it for himself.

The original of "Desert Chief" has a nice power - maybe due to these memories.

The style I chose is photo realism mixed with graphic elements. A painting direction I
did not see other artists using. After completing Desert Chief I discovered that in Los Ange-
les Western Art subject matter is completely politically incorrect. No gallery would ever
consider showing it. I also discovered that the style I used was so different from the mod-
ern styles being accepted in Western states that in these states "Desert Chief" was com-
pletely unacceptable. Thankfully, the Florida restaurant did not realize any of this and loved
what I'd sent.