The first floor of the 1938 McKinley County Courthouse remains largely in its original condition, including its terrazzo flooring and tile wainscoting. While it is not known where or by whom these tiles were manufactured, it is probable that they are the output of a New Deal era vocational school or workshop. They appear to be designed and made specifically for the courthouse to complement its Southwestern architecture and the many Diné (Navajo) sandpainting-style wall paintings and Nuevomexicano tinwork light fixtures decorating its lobby. The primary pattern within the installation, seen in the arrangement of tan and blue tiles along the wide middle band, is a familiar alternating stepped-triangle design found in Diné weavings and baskets. Additionally, the motif of the second-to-top row of tiles echoes that of Ancestral Puebloan T-shaped doors (which are also used in the architecture of the courthouse in two instances).
(Note: The painted “District Attorney” sign seen in this photograph is a recent addition done in the same lettering style used in 1939 when the courthouse was opened.)
The New Deal famously built a great number of public buildings. It also furnished those buildings, turning out an incredible quantity of decorative arts. In New Mexico, the Federal Art Project worked in concert with other New Deal programs and state vocational schools to set up workshops employing mostly Hispano artists to produce Spanish Colonial–style furniture and other items for newly constructed buildings across the state. This bench and an identical duplicate were created for the historic McKinley County Courthouse, which was built through the Public Works Administration in 1938.
In all likelihood, this bench was made at a 1930s State of New Mexico vocational school. During the New Deal, the state’s vocational schools and the Federal Art Project teamed up to manufacture furniture and decorative arts for newly constructed public buildings such as the 1938 McKinley County Courthouse, where this bench and an identical copy are housed. Schools operated according to a workshop model: students/artists were supplied with instructional bulletins, or production manuals, and worked individually and/or collaboratively to create pieces. Although designs were regulated, students/artists found ways to express original artistry. Unfortunately, the New Deal did not credit these students/artists—most of whom were Hispano—for their work.
New Mexico’s New Deal programs worked in concert with the State’s vocational schools to produce countless pieces of furniture and decorative arts to fill public buildings. In New Mexico, that program dovetailed with efforts to revive 18th-century Spanish Colonial traditions. The resulting proliferation of Spanish Colonial–style interior décor cemented New Mexico’s visual identity. Take this trastero (cabinet), for example. It was likely produced in a New Deal workshop employing Hispano artists to recreate Spanish Colonial furniture designs, with an emphasis on certain features and motifs such as those seen here: turned spindles, scalloped edges, rosette carvings, and visible joinery. In this way, the New Deal cultivated a visual vocabulary that has since been perceived as looking characteristically “New Mexican.”
This trastero (cabinet) is unique in terms of its design, which draws from the confluence of cultures that is New Mexico. It combines “imported,” traditional Spanish Colonial motifs such as the scalloped border and rosettes carved into the lower part of each front door panel with “local” ideas. By decorating the top half of each panel with images of corn stalks, the artist “Indigenizes” the piece—corn is a crop native to the Americas and it continues to be significant to the Indigenous peoples of what is now the Southwestern United States. Unfortunately, New Deal and associated programs generally categorized woodworkers as “craftspeople” and not artists, and did not credit the maker(s) of this hand-built, original work.
The loose, bold brushstrokes of The Mine have the vigor and vitality of a painting made outdoors (a “plein air” painting). While the location in the picture has not been identified, it is both possible and probable that it depicts the Gallup, NM, area. Herbert Tschudy visited Gallup frequently on the annual trips he made to New Mexico during the first three decades of the 1900s. Handwritten notes on the back of the painting detailing its exhibition history indicate it was made in Gallup. A noticeable and plentiful feature of the Gallup landscape are twisted juniper trees, one of which appears prominently in the foreground of The Mine. Despite the title, the sparsely painted smoke stacks in the painting’s background appear incidental to its primary subject: the dramatic natural features and dynamic sunset colors of the high desert landscape. Because the artist has no known involvement in the New Deal, it is likely that he donated this piece to the Gallup Art Center based on his relationship to the community.
In 1939, San Francisco hosted the Golden Gate International Exposition to celebrate the opening of the San Francisco—Oakland Bay and Golden Gate Bridges and the theme of “Pacific Unity.” The Exposition included an “Indian Court” exhibit organized by the newly established Indian Arts & Crafts Board (IACB) with art displays, a vendor marketplace, artist demonstrations, and guided tours. These posters, produced by Louis Siegriest for the IACB in partnership with another New Deal program, the Federal Art Project, promote The Indian Court’s conception and representation of “eight great areas of Indian culture,” including the “Fishermen of the Northwest Coast,…Buffalo Hunters of the Plains,…the Cornplanters of the Pueblos, [and] the Navajo Shepherds”—Gallup’s collection includes only four of the eight total posters. The imagery is borrowed from Indigenous artists, who received little or no recognition. Siegriest created the poster designs but “had nothing to do with the actual process,” meaning he didn’t make the screens or pull the prints; “I would see that they got out,” he recalled. “I think they got out 1,500 of each poster.”1
In 1939, San Francisco hosted the Golden Gate International Exposition to celebrate the opening of the San Francisco—Oakland Bay and Golden Gate Bridges and the theme of “Pacific Unity.” The Exposition included an “Indian Court” exhibit organized by the newly established Indian Arts & Crafts Board (IACB) with art displays, a vendor marketplace, artist demonstrations, and guided tours. These posters, produced by Louis Siegriest for the IACB in partnership with another New Deal program, the Federal Art Project, promote The Indian Court’s conception and representation of “eight great areas of Indian culture,” including the “Fishermen of the Northwest Coast,…Buffalo Hunters of the Plains,…the Cornplanters of the Pueblos, [and] the Navajo Shepherds”—Gallup’s collection includes only four of the eight total posters. The imagery is borrowed from Indigenous artists, who received little or no recognition. Siegriest created the poster designs but “had nothing to do with the actual process,” meaning he didn’t make the screens or pull the prints; “I would see that they got out,” he recalled. “I think they got out 1,500 of each poster.”1
Eliseo Rodriguez1 is best known for reviving the 18th/19th-century Spanish Colonial art of straw appliqué as a New Deal artist, but he was also a highly accomplished painter, though few of the paintings he made for the Federal Art Project are credited to him. Despite the lack of credit often afforded artists of color by New Deal art programs (and conventional Eurocentric art historical scholarship), Rodriguez was a multitalented modern artist who significantly contributed to the development of the Santa Fe art colony in the first half of the 20th century and beyond. In Quenching Their Thirst, Rodriguez employs confident, bold lines and a primary color palette to show a scene of everyday Hispano life in New Mexico and at the same time refer to the biblical parable of Jesus and the woman at the well. Author Carmella Padilla explains that “Rodriguez’s devout spirituality and personal religious experience infused his paintings with a special soulfulness.”2
Edgar Alwin Payne’s paintings are often designed not just to show the viewer the landscape, but to help them imagine themselves within it. In Untitled (Grand Canyon), Payne positions the viewer a short distance down a canyon wall trail. This perspective is more intimate than an aerial view or the panorama visible from the canyon’s rim. Immersed within the canyon, the viewer is dwarfed by its hugeness but can also appreciate the architectural features of the canyon walls.
