
Beneath the shadow cast by the rim of his hat, Eugene "Baatsoslanii" JoeÕs dark eyes flash as he begins to speak about himself and his art. There's nothing rushed in Baatsoslanii's manner, and how he chooses words carefully to describe how he evolved his unusual art form using sand instead of paint.
"I like to call it 'creative sand art,' rather than 'sandpainting,' he says, describing his artistic journey from totally traditional work to his present contemporary interpretations of Navajo life and legend.
Today he has brought with him a series of new paintings for his Santa Fe gallery. The depth of color, and the three-dimensional illusion in those works is stunning to the viewer. In several paintings, he has imbedded turquoise, "the Navajo diamond," to highlight a pot or fetish, fooling the eye even more thoroughly; it is like looking through a window. Baatsoslanii is obviously pleased, both with his work and the reaction to it.
Baatsoslanii which translates to mean "many feathers," was born and still lives on Navajo land in New Mexico and Arizona. He was fascinated from an early age by his own heritage, and spent much time as a child listening to the stories of his elders.
"My grandfather was a medicine man, and he taught me the ways of my people. From the time I was seven, I was sent to boarding school during the year, but the summers I spent with my grandfather. He would take me up into the hills and teach me how to become self-sufficient.
"On one of these journeys, he went away and left me telling me to stay in one place: 'Don't mind what's around you, just listen to the wind. Find that person inside of you.' He didn't come back until about four or five hours later. Back then, I didn't know what he meant, about finding that other person inside of me."
But years later, after his beloved grandfather had died, Baatsoslanii found himself still searching for that other person. And once, after four days of fasting, he was facing east when a breeze came by. "I had a vision, a dream, of walking toward a hogan; there was the sun, eagle feathers many feathers and my grandfather. 'Don't run with the time/Always walk with the sun,' he would say, and at last I understood what this means." Looking back on the experience now, the artist realizes that this vision foretold his future, and the contemporary direction his art would take.
Baatsoslanii wasn't always sure he wanted to be an artist, and right out of high school he worked managing a trading post. But inexorably, he was drawn back to art, and in 1964 became an apprentice to his father, James C. Joe, who was becoming renowned for his own traditional sandpainting.
"We collected all our own sand," Baatsoslanii recalls, and using an old-fashioned coffee grinder, ground and sifted the different colored sandstones. All colors are from natural pigments found in the rock, and these are still the only ones used by the artist. Baatsoslanii worked with his father for eight years, learning not only technique but also deeper meanings behind the ancient Navajo ceremonies.
Originally practiced only by medicine men, sandpainting was used for religious and healing purposes only, and was usually done on the ground inside a hogan. When a sandpainting was finished, the medicine man would begin a sing, or chant, thereby transferring the sandpainting from the ground into the body of the patient, who would sit in the center of it. At the end of the ceremony, the painting or what was left of it was collected and scattered in the wind.
Commercial sandpainting, such as that pioneered by Baatsoslanii's father, depicts a portion of a chant, a figure or two of the yeibichai or a rainbow god, but is done in a different sequence, so as not to violate the sacredness of the actual ceremony. As an apprentice, Baatsoslanii's art was mostly traditional, too. But he was compelled to paint the landscape, around him, and so did it in sand.
Baatsoslanii's affinity for the artform quickly became evident, and he soon found himself the recipient of numerous awards in Arizona and New Mexico, and he was invited to demonstrate sandpainting at the Denver Museum of Natural History.
Today, Baatsoslanii does not do any traditional sandpaintings, feeling that the market has been inundated by mass production, and by artists who do not understand the sacred meaning behind what they paint.
"Young Navajo people do not really understand; they do it as a commercial job. I tell young people that these ceremonies are very important to their religion, and that we need to be more respectful. For many young people, their parents speak English, and they don't know the meaning of their background, the true value of their Navajo heritage. I feel that myself and other Indian artists should take the time to educate them, so they will not misinterpret and offend with their art."
When Baatsoslanii starts out on a new painting, he says, "I have a vision in my mind, an outline of what I'm going to paint. My work interprets not just beauty and harmony, but also the present and future." Butterflies, the flute player, many feathers these represent the beauty and harmony. Abstraction, such as he often uses in a border, represents the future. Anasazi symbols interpret the past like a scroll, pictured on walls of a rock canyon, and often add an important touch of humor to the work. The artist does not care to be too specific about meaning. "I want viewers to feel their own interpretation."
"My work will continue to grow," says Baatsoslanii. "During the past three years, I've been motivated to explore new ideas. I like to create new things, new tapestry, new transparency. When the inspiration comes, you just mold it. It has a life of its own."
The exquisite pottery of Tony Da and other contemporary potters is influential in Baatsoslanii's work, as is the art of Joseph Lonewolf. "Their work tells us a lot about the past, and I believe we are all from the same roots."
Baatsoslanii has found his work copied by a number of other artists. "It's flattering," he says, laughing, "but my work speaks for myself. We all must have our own vision. I see mine as a gift that was given to me-the simplicity of it-to become a legacy. Because I am Mother Earth, I'm like the wind, too, or a cloud in the sky. ThatÕs why I sing from within."