The art world's long-standing struggle to represent Native American artists and perspectives is gaining momentum with Jeffrey Gibson's groundbreaking exhibit "An Indigenous Present" at the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) in Boston. This show, co-organized by Gibson and Jenelle Porter, shines a light on the work of 15 abstract Native artists, none from Massachusetts tribes, who challenge traditional notions of representation and abstraction.
By centering Native voices and perspectives, "An Indigenous Present" offers a refreshing alternative to Western-centric art institutions. Gibson's curation skillfully untangles these artists from "fine art" rhetoric, bringing together diverse Native culture bearers – visual artists, poets, historians – who share space within Indigenous contexts but are rarely united in Western institutions.
The exhibit features an impressive range of works that defy easy categorization. Sonya Kelliher-Combs' "Salmon Curl" (2023) emulates the texture and color of sanguine salmon flesh with acrylic polymer and reindeer hair, while Mary Sully's portraits of white celebrities reimagined through a Dakota aesthetic lens lampoon the very culture that excluded her.
The show also highlights the work of multidisciplinary artist Kimowan Metchewais, who made abstraction his primary mode of survival as a Native artist. His piece "Chief's Blanket" (2002) evokes the iconic Navajo chief's blanket pattern and relational stories embedded in its form and meaning.
However, not all works are equally successful. Teresa Baker's "Throw It to the Ocean" (2025), for example, relies on astroturf photographs but falls short in execution, feeling sophomoric and lacking refinement. In contrast, Anna Tsouhlarakis' "IF SHE WAS AT THE PARTY, SHE WOULD HAVE DUMPED MORE THAN TEA" (2025) wryly satirizes the unsustainability and whitewashing of U.S. life and history, using materials like IKEA furniture remnants and artificial sinew.
Ultimately, "An Indigenous Present" offers a gift: disquietude for settlers, delight and laughter for Native attendees. The exhibition delivers something beyond representationalism – evolving toward resistance and circumnavigation of the colonial gaze. While some works succeed more than others in translating abstraction's power, the show as a whole succeeds in reflecting Native aesthetics with undeniable visual and conceptual splendor.
Through its bold curatorial vision, "An Indigenous Present" challenges the art world to rethink its relationship with Native American artists and perspectives. By centering Indigenous voices and principles – such as reciprocity and gift economies – the exhibit offers a powerful alternative to Western-centric art institutions. As Kay WalkingStick, a Citizen Band Potawatomi/Cherokee painter whose work appears in the exhibition, notes, "When you move past them, you are encouraged to look at them and stand back and move." The show's success lies in its ability to do just that – inviting viewers to move beyond their preconceptions and engage with Native American art and perspectives on a deeper level.
By centering Native voices and perspectives, "An Indigenous Present" offers a refreshing alternative to Western-centric art institutions. Gibson's curation skillfully untangles these artists from "fine art" rhetoric, bringing together diverse Native culture bearers – visual artists, poets, historians – who share space within Indigenous contexts but are rarely united in Western institutions.
The exhibit features an impressive range of works that defy easy categorization. Sonya Kelliher-Combs' "Salmon Curl" (2023) emulates the texture and color of sanguine salmon flesh with acrylic polymer and reindeer hair, while Mary Sully's portraits of white celebrities reimagined through a Dakota aesthetic lens lampoon the very culture that excluded her.
The show also highlights the work of multidisciplinary artist Kimowan Metchewais, who made abstraction his primary mode of survival as a Native artist. His piece "Chief's Blanket" (2002) evokes the iconic Navajo chief's blanket pattern and relational stories embedded in its form and meaning.
However, not all works are equally successful. Teresa Baker's "Throw It to the Ocean" (2025), for example, relies on astroturf photographs but falls short in execution, feeling sophomoric and lacking refinement. In contrast, Anna Tsouhlarakis' "IF SHE WAS AT THE PARTY, SHE WOULD HAVE DUMPED MORE THAN TEA" (2025) wryly satirizes the unsustainability and whitewashing of U.S. life and history, using materials like IKEA furniture remnants and artificial sinew.
Ultimately, "An Indigenous Present" offers a gift: disquietude for settlers, delight and laughter for Native attendees. The exhibition delivers something beyond representationalism – evolving toward resistance and circumnavigation of the colonial gaze. While some works succeed more than others in translating abstraction's power, the show as a whole succeeds in reflecting Native aesthetics with undeniable visual and conceptual splendor.
Through its bold curatorial vision, "An Indigenous Present" challenges the art world to rethink its relationship with Native American artists and perspectives. By centering Indigenous voices and principles – such as reciprocity and gift economies – the exhibit offers a powerful alternative to Western-centric art institutions. As Kay WalkingStick, a Citizen Band Potawatomi/Cherokee painter whose work appears in the exhibition, notes, "When you move past them, you are encouraged to look at them and stand back and move." The show's success lies in its ability to do just that – inviting viewers to move beyond their preconceptions and engage with Native American art and perspectives on a deeper level.