We began this week with a visit from the Fire Pony, a still-small young spirit half-wild and wholly Indian. Ancient horses were indigenous to this land, but the modern horse was introduced as both tool and weapon of invasion and colonization.
And (in hindsight, entirely predictably) our peoples adapted and adopted this newer cousin, seeing in it near-limitless potential and exploiting that, all while developing a relationship with the animal unlike any other.
Not all of our cultures are horse cultures; indeed, perhaps the majority of them are not. But the same Manifest Destiny that led to their westward spread put them within reach of vast numbers of our peoples’ ancestors, and for all that the horse was used explicitly as a tool of colonialism, it simultaneously and rapidly became a weapon of indigenous resistance.
Horses had value far beyond the market price for horseflesh, and to our peoples, possession of them was an indicator not only of wealth and an ability to provide for one’s family and people, but also of bravery, strategy, and skill.
In the first generations of contact, most horses were stolen, of course: an act of resistance against violent oppression; a way of gaining, if not an advantage, perhaps a slightly more level battlefield; a way of tweaking the invader, shaming him by taking one of his most valuable resources right out from under his own body. For some tribal nations, particularly those of the Northern plains, parties (and sometimes lone individuals) would stage raids, returning with as many horses as possible — resources that could be used for transport, trade, hunting, warfare . . . and for many a young warrior, providing a source of friendship akin to brotherhood for the duration of the animal’s life. It became a mark of status, this ability to procure, in quantity, such a valuable resource for the people.
And as an indicator of status, it soon became a measure of marriageability.
I’ve written here before about bride prices and marriage as geopolitical strategy. Both were well known to many of our peoples, which is not to say that they did not also marry for love, Indeed, in many (perhaps most) indigenous cultures, young Native women, unlike their European counterparts, had right of refusal: They could be presented with a potential spouse as part of an arranged marriage, and could even be encouraged to enter it, but the women retained autonomy and agency, and could decline if they chose. There might be social penalties — there are always consequences for actions, particularly those seen to prioritize self over community, and even if those penalties were largely no more than public disapproval, the impact should not be minimized — but considering what was often required of women of European ancestry, Native marriage arrangements were often liberatory by comparison.
And so it came to pass that horses took their place among the political and practical considerations that went into a betrothal. A young man who could bring large numbers of horses back to the people had immediately increased their own collective wealth, power, and chance for survival — and had thus elevated his own status accordingly. A man who could provide a number of horses to his bride’s family would be increasing their own status and improving their welfare, and so horses became a common component of what might be called, in terms familiar to Europeans of the day, a “bride price.”
Today’s featured work tells this very story through the medium of a small acrylic painting. It’s a work by Carl Winters, an artist from one of those horse cultures of the Northern plains, the Standing Rock Sioux. Carl is married to a woman of Taos Pueblo and his lived here for decades, and now incorporates local traditional motifs into his work along with those of his own culture. But this one, entitled She Cost Me Seven Horses, harks back to an older time among his own people, while keeping their traditions of visual storytelling alive. From its description in the Other Artists: Wall Art gallery here on the site:
Carl Winters (Standing Rock) specializes in imagery from his Lakota reservation, particularly the horse motif that represents such an integral part of his people’s culture. Here, with acrylics and canvas, he evokes an older time, when weddings were also business deals and geopolitical strategies. Bride and groom wear their finest traditional dress before a border of “quillwork” symbols. The “bride price” is shown galloping in the background. Including the metal matting and frame, it is 9.75″ wide by 7″ high (dimensions approximate).
Acrylic; canvas, matting; metal frame
$145 + shipping, handling, and insurance
We’ve carried Carl’s work off and on for many years. he’s perhaps best known for his hand-painted hand drum artwork, often using horses (and occasionally buffalo) as the primary motif. But he’s also known for paintings, too, and of all of his work, this small one remains one of my all-time favorites.
Part of it is the story tells and the way that it tells it: capturing, in one single scene, the complex realities of indigenous life, one that encompasses colonialism and resistance, the day-to-day strategies of realpolitik, the ways in which the lives of individual and community are inextricably intertwined, and the role that love plays in all of it.
Part of it is the authenticity of the imagery: the husband’s long wrapped braids; the eagle plume (rather than a feather) fastened in the wife’s hair; the traditional dress, including blanket and quill-work detail.
Part of it is the two combined, what might be called the imagery of story: the seven horses of the work’s name apparent in the background, running across a quillwork-edged hide; and the quills themselves arrayed in traditional patterns on both hide and dress, in white and in brilliant red, their placement on the hide paying tribute to the Four Sacred Directions.
It’s an embodiment of The People, in a color we have reclaimed as a marker of identity. It’s also an expression of love: for one’s life partner, for one’s community, for tradition, for the spirits.
There are far less stable foundations upon which to build than seven horses, particularly when those horses race beneath the bright red spokes of the world itself.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
