ROMEROS

By Betty Ann Brown

“Historically, the portrayal of minorities in movies and television is less than ideal. Whether it’s appearing in disparaging roles or not appearing at all, minorities are the victims of an industry that relies on old ideas to appeal to the ‘majority’ at the expense of the ‘insignificant minority.’”

          bell hooks

 “She’s like all Indians: all emotion, no intelligence.”

                   Bonanza, Episode 105

          When I was growing up, I had two favorite television programs: The Howdy Doody Show (1947-1960) and The Lone Ranger (1949-1960). As it happens, both programs included Native American characters and both were embodiments of cultural stereotypes. The set for The Howdy Doody Show was a Western frontier with its lead character a cowboy named Buffalo Bob Smith. Princess Summerfall Winterspring was the lead female figure. Her father was Chief Thunderthud (thud?!!) and she represented the old trope of women and what were called at the time “primitive” people being closer to nature. I also liked the program Bonanza, one of the classic cowboy and Indian television series. I’ve used a quote from Bonanza as an epigraph.

          The Lone Ranger’s sidekick was a Native American named Tonto (which means “silly” in Spanish). Although he was performed by a Native American actor, all of the other Native American characters in the three shows I’ve mentioned were white people with brown face paint. This makes me think of the 1915 film Birth of a Nation wherein the most important the black slaves—the ones with “speaking” roles--were also whites portrayed with black-painted faces. And the many Charlie Chan movies and television programs [1925-1979] where the Chinese-Hawaiian detective was played by white actors, including in one parody by Peter Sellers.

          I’ve introduced this essay with a quick look at the way Native Americans have been portrayed in the mass media to draw attention to the way film and television reify cultural stereotypes. And that’s pertinent because one of the most important things that Cara and Diego Romero do in their art is to expose and challenge such stereotypes. The Romeros’ Tales of Futures Past exhibition currently at the Crocker Museum in Sacramento presents Cara’s photographs and Diego’s ceramics with focus on their re-telling the stories of Native American people. Both artists are bi-racial: Cara is Chemehuevi-American and her husband Diego is Cochiti-American.  Both use representational art to tell their individual and cultural stories. As Cara says, “I think there’s a lot of healing in being able to tell truthful stories and to be a storyteller…As I see it, we have many stories left to tell.”  Diego adds, “We both acknowledge the fact that we were gifted and blessed in this life with a voice, and with that voice came a responsibility…We came to the relationship with a similar perspective and a sense of responsibility to use this gift that was given to us to educate, broaden people’s perspectives, and to raise questions.” Both artists look to the mass media as sources for their imagery.

One of Cara’s most impressive pieces is a monumental portrait of an indigenous woman dressed as the superhero Wonder Woman. The piece brings up key questions: Is it “natural” for all the early superheroes to be white? Did early comic readers just take that for granted? (Interestingly, Wonder Woman was one of the first DC superheroes and continues to be one of the strongest.)

Another of Cara’s photographs presents a Native American version of Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper (1495-1498). Although the original Last Supper is considered “Fine Art” or “High Art,” it has been reproduced so many thousands of times in the television, film, and advertising that is has become a mass media trope. One example is the scene, late in the 2017 The Murder on the Orient Express, where the characters sit on one side of a long table located in a deep tunnel, echoing Da Vinci’s composition of white men on one side of a table located in a deep interior space. Cara’s version is populated by indigenous people, except for the Jesus figure who wears a large buffalo headdress. (Historically, only a few accomplished indigenous warriors could wear such ritual gear.) Notably, Car’s Last Supper also includes six females at the table. Perhaps that’s a nod to the matriarchal systems of many Native American groups.

Diego also looks to the mass media for inspiration on how to deconstruct cultural stereotypes. He painted a Wonder Woman on one of his ceramic plates. And like his wife, he portrays her with dark Native American skin. Diego’s Apocalypto lithograph from 2011 is a take-off on the iconic scene of a sunken Statue of Liberty from the original Planet of the Apes (1968). Diego transforms Liberty into an indigenous woman.

Both artists address other social issues. But this brief essay has sought to focus on their exploration of mass media tropes. All of these tropes were engendered by European and Euro-American creators. And the Romeros’ oeuvre reminds us of French philosopher Michel Foucault’s important work on what he spoke of as “the indignity of speaking for others.” It is a gift to “hear” the stories these two amazing indigenous artists tell in order to create visual worlds on their own terms.