By producing work that lectures but does not necessarily converse with its viewers, DinéYazhí offers visitors a taste of Native peoples’ colonial experience: forever on the receiving end of (often unsolicited) information, of change, of aggression.
“I knew that a vital part of my life’s purpose was to dance. It is my lifeline, actually. Dancing allows me to share things unseen, unspoken.”
At eighty-three years old, Richard Hunt still works almost every day in his studio in Lincoln Park—a cavernous, mid-twentieth century power substation for the Chicago Transit Authority.
“The elements that dance in my head are always both visual and narrative. Whether they are expressed in painting or writing, the essence of what I am trying to convey is one in the same for me. They must derive from a place of truth and spark something of the imagination.”
“I love the act of repetition. Maybe it feels like a meditation of sorts, but I’m also interested in simplifying a technique down to a single mark or color, so as to allow space for the viewer to interpret the feeling, or to let a concept emerge if that’s what is intended.”