This dual self-conception carries over into the way that Yellow hopes to have his work received. On one hand, he'd like to be free to address his own anger and the anger of Indian people against the culture at large. On the other hand, he'd like his work to be accepted and taken seriously by a largely white art market and cultural establishment. This quiet conflict surfaces as Yellow speaks about a work that recently showed in the Absence/Presence exhibition at the Nash Gallery, a two-panel painting called "Last Stand" (1998). In this piece, dozens of bright-red Native American warriors atop fanciful horses surround a small band of white cavalrymen. The warriors' faces are decals from the Cleveland Indians' mascot, "Chief Wahoo," and they smile obscenely as they carry M-16 rifles. The scene is so ridiculous and overplayed, the colors so bright and viscerally directed, that the work's satirically political message seems blatant and uncomplicated. Yet while Yellow intends to provoke the viewer, he also argues that the work contains a richer significance.
"At first this painting may seem humorous or satirical," Yellow says, pointing at the canvases on the floor. "But for me it has more meaning....My grandfather fought in the battle against Custer, so I know the truth behind the myth of that battle."
Daniel Corrigan
A complicated self-image: Francis Yellow poses in front of his self-portrait "This Is Me" (1998)
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Yellow's use of an overwhelming band of grinning warriors is intended not only to ridicule the myths of white society, but to stand as a metaphor for the dehumanization of native people. Warrior societies such as the Lakota, according to Yellow, did not revel in battle or use great force to kill white settlers. Instead, they had established codes of conduct and belief systems that governed how they waged battle. Many of these customs found their way into Indian artwork.
To explain this point, Yellow turns to an image in his book of Ledger Art. The picture is a dynamic scene of two warriors dressed in bright costumes atop a galloping horse. There is only a slight hint of a horizon, and the sky is filled with what looks like whizzing insects.
"Take this scene. These tadpoles," Yellow says gesturing toward the painting, "are an old convention of my people for bullets, and this image is called 'Rescue of a Comrade Under Heavy Fire.' But it's not a straight depiction of warfare. In Plains tradition, societies were brotherhoods...This image is a depiction of that ideal--the idea that each person would risk his life for another."
Yellow speaks of other ritual codes as he leafs through the images. Lakota warriors would never turn their back on their enemy--to do so would be the highest shame. The highest honor for Lakota warriors was not killing an enemy, which was thought of as somewhat shameful, but rather to touch an armed enemy and survive to tell of it, as though living through danger but not profiting by it was the most noble ideal.
This same code may be the best metaphor for Yellow's approach to art making. Back in 1994, after he won Best of Show in the Northern Plains Tribal Art Exhibition, Yellow was given a one-person show. But, Yellow suspects, because of the small controversy regarding his sculpture, he was unable to sell any work and was treated rather brusquely by white visitors. Which is to say, while he made no killing, at least he can say he managed to touch his enemy.
Francis Yellow's work in the showRed and Black: Chasing the Spirit is at Intermedia Arts through May 2; (612) 871-4444.
