A balance between old and new
Veterans have faith in future of legacy art
As Indian Market evolves, organizers and participants say embracing both traditional and modern art forms is key to moving forward
HSANTO DOMINGO PUEBLO our by hour, bead by bead, Mary and Gerard Calabaza are bent on creating perfection. Together, this wife-and-husband team are painstakingly precise as they prepare for this week’s Santa Fe Indian Market. Working from their Santo Domingo home and trailer studio outside, they take turns cutting minerals, drilling and shaping lines of beads.
The finished product — heishi — is believed to be the oldest form of jewelry making in New Mexico, and it’s much more than a beautiful wearable. It’s a testament to the enduring nature of Native history and culture.
“[Our parents] tell us to keep your traditions, your way of life,” says Gerard, who learned to make heishi jewelry at a young age and would assist his father with Indian Market preparations. “We’d stay up till one or two in the morning to finish all the bracelets and necklaces.”
“We’d even miss school,” adds Mary, his high school sweetheart, who also learned Native crafts through her family as a child. “[Gerard’s] dad is very proud of us, keeping the tradition alive.”
At a time when change is colliding with tradition at Indian Market, and as some artists worry the event is starting to devalue the work of venerable artists and styles, the Calabazas say they
remain optimistic about the future of legacy art at the market.
“For us, we try to think positive. We try to concentrate on our own work,” says Mary, adding that while she empathizes with artists who were not selected to be part of this year’s show, she isn’t angry.
She says she does believe older, traditional artists will have a harder time getting into market if they “don’t have knowledge how to promote themselves” and she observes that branding is important. Additionally, she notes, originality is key — one reason why the Calabazas say they have a special trademark of their work — and she’s noticed some people “imitating” their patterns.
For his part, Gerard acknowledges a shift in the market, but he says he’s grateful for incoming participants and believes the only way to ensure the event’s future is to welcome fresh ideas.
“It’s always good to see new artists coming in because they have to learn how to keep up the tradition,” he says. “It’s up to young artists to push themselves to do what they want to do.”
Ira Wilson, executive director of the Southwestern Association for Indian Arts, says the market’s primary goal is to focus on balance.
“Indian Market must grow. Sometimes change is difficult, but without change, there is no forward progress,” he says. “We want to support artists who have supported market for years and year and years, while embracing new artists who have eyes, ears and hands in creating art that acknowledges tradition, but moves forward.”
For the Calabazas, tradition comes down to detail.
From his outdoor studio in Santo Domingo Pueblo, Gerard calls to his wife in his native Keres language. He has just finished slicing a piece of melon shell, pushing it through a cutting machine a couple of millimeters at a time, over and over again.
When asked how he avoids cutting himself, he laughs, pointing to scars along his calloused fingertips, “I’ve cut my fingers so many times.”
When Mary delivers a necklace that needs to be shaped, Gerard shuts off the machine, flicks on another and loads a sanding belt. It takes four rounds of sanding to completely shape and smooth the beads’ edges. Once polished, the finished product doesn’t look quite real. But it is. “Some people, they think it’s plastic,” Mary says of the natural coral and olive shell creations, adding many people don’t understand this particular type of Native jewelry.
“They know silver work, they know turquoise nuggets,” she says, “but they don’t know heishi.”
And their heishi is on another level, Wilson says.
“They’re taking traditional art and they’re pushing it to the extreme,” he says. “While it remains traditional, it also highly acknowledges that you can do amazing things and redefine the art by how you approach it.”
Although the Calabazas use modern tools to cut and grind jagged rocks and blades of turquoise, “nothing’s preset,” explains Gerard, and the basic machines help to more efficiently replicate products that once were made entirely by hand.
Still, “it takes me days just to prepare everything,” Gerard says, adding that some of the larger pieces can take three months to complete and collaboration is key. “We do like a production line. … It’s a great feeling, working together as one.”
In the midst of market preparation, the duo also balance selling goods at the Palace of the Governors portal and readying year-round orders. Some days, they spend 12 hours weaving in and out of their studios to stay ahead of commissioned pieces for international buyers and celebrities such as Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who bought a geometrically shaped inlay necklace they dubbed Sunrise.
“Indian Market morning, you’re full of hype,” says Gerard, adding that since working with SWAIA, which puts on the event, he feels more energized and excited about his work. He and Mary had been on the waiting list for a long time, he says, and in their first year, they were overwhelmed with success.
“We sold everything. There was nothing to bring home,” Mary says.
Over the years, the Calabazas have won numerous awards at the event. They are understandably proud, mainly because they know the work continues an art form passed down through time. It’s something that matters, with value beyond dollars.
“I just want to encourage young artists to do their very best. I know it’s hard growing up in Indian land, learning all the traditions and keeping on what your parents are teaching you,” says Gerard, adding that he feels Native people live “two lives: We live in a white way and the Indian way.”
His life experiences, he says, connect him to history and his ancestry, and he hopes to influence future generations similarly. He and Mary have been teaching their two sons, ages 13 and 32, how to make heishi and create inlays since they were 10 and 20.
“It’s about respect for the art,” Gerard says. “It’s all made from your heart. … It’s one of a kind, every piece that’s made.”
“It’s about respect for the art. It’s all made from your heart. … It’s one of a kind, every piece that’s made.” Gerard Calabaza, traditional artist