Disabled Artists; Then, Now, and a Time for the ADA 

“Gene left behind… paintings of a rich inner world, paintings depicting his newfound life and accessibility he created for himself and with the help of his community. Gene left evidence that we the disabled Indian artists have and will continue to always be here and we are still seeking equitable access.”—Osiris Cuen

Still life with David’s Head by Eugene Landry, circa 1962, oil on canvas, 24×36″

 

Last summer, when Chicago-based Osiris Cuen, a Disabled, Mexican Indigenous, QT2 Spirit Artist stayed on the Shoalwater Bay reservation, they became familiar with Eugene Landry’s art and story via an exhibit at the tribal heritage museum. There were discussions about how disabled artists in Gene’s era were sensationalized in news stories, which Cuen calls  “inspiration porn”. Artists with disabilities struggle to create, but struggle even more to have their art regarded for its own merits. Eugene Landry was no exception. Of the news stories in his archive, all except one lead with his disability and then mention his art. We wondered how Gene had  felt about headlines describing him as  “Victim,” “Paralyzed in Wheelchair,” “Paints Despite Physical Handicaps” instead of “Artist”?

 

The lone story that did not mention his disability—a gallery announcement of a solo show of Landry’s art— included a photo of him holding a large painting in front of his body. About that photo, Cuen writes:

“An early [newspaper] article I read about Gene did not mention his disability and in the photo his wheelchair is hidden quite literally behind the body of his work. I stare at the portrait of Gene, wondering what was going through his head and feel the echoes of shame in my own story reverberate through me. That shame haunts me every time I am forced to make a “voluntary” disclosure about my disability. Do I lie and say no? If I choose to list my disability, I am afraid I won’t get the job. I opt for the Prefer not to disclose. The shame crawls up my throat as I muster the courage to ask someone to slow down, remind me of their name, or what I was talking about. Shame that comes from an ableist society which limits accommodations and bars accessibility. If your company deems your request “unreasonable” for whatever reason – they are legally in their rights to deny you access. As long as abled people get to decide what is reasonable or not, disabled people will never have true equitable access needed in public spaces. Our options as disabled people are to become “inspiration porn” or to be the “Evil Angry Disabled.”

*

An artist resume tucked behind the frame of a Landry still life from 1964 makes no mention of his medical issues or paralysis. The paper lists only his professional information, education, exhibits, etc. One has to assume that Gene himself directed the input for his resume. It indicates (to me) that he wanted his art to be judged on its own merits. An artist’s work has its own life, once released into the world. How important is its backstory to its future life?

A surrealistic painting by Gene from the early 1960s  suggests the emotional and physical isolation he lived with in a pre-ADA world: The disembodied head of Michelangelo’s David stares at floating, out of reach images: a nude pinup, a travel brochure, a bird missing part of its tail, a dangling pencil. Landry’s relatives recall how Gene kept a pencil tied to a string at his work area so he could retrieve it if dropped. (The dangling pencil would become a reoccurring image in much of his work.)

The painting itself represents a significant accomplishment for Gene. After he started art school, an injury at a care facility permanently disabled his right arm and hand. After a period of recovery, Gene returned to school and learned to draw and paint with his left hand. Whether intentional or not, the story of David, an underdog who used his wits to slay a giant, speaks to the resourcefulness and resilience of Gene.

 

We were honored when Osiris Cuen agreed to write an essay to accompany the exhibit of Eugene’s work at the Astoria Visual Arts Gallery. A panel on the gallery wall displays excerpts, with the full essay printed as a free handout. It is our pleasure to share it here.

 

Disabled Artists; Then, Now, and a Time for the ADA 

By Osiris Cuen 

“We must leave evidence. Evidence that we were here, that we existed, that we survived and loved and ached. Evidence of the wholeness we never felt and the immense sense of fullness we gave to each other. Evidence of who we were, who we thought we were, who we never should have been. Evidence for each other that there are other ways to live–past survival; past isolation.” —Mia Mingus 

 

Hi my name is Osiris, pronounced like Ohseedeez, and I have ADHD. *Gasp!* Have you ever seen one of those cute animal videos, where like the puppies get like a bionic leg or whatever? Cheering loudly and wiping tears of joy when we see their new found liberty. Can someone tell me why we don’t keep that same energy when it comes to people? At the tender age of 18 Gene Landry, a highschool jock, would suddenly collapse! Gene was comatose and his family was forced to drive the two hours to the Cushman Indian Hospital, knowing the general hospital turned away Native Americans in need. This gross medical neglect because of race is an all too familiar story in the lives of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color in the United States of America. It only gets worse as more layers of marginalization are added on throughout our lives. Gene was diagnosed with Meningitis that day and everything in his world changed. After battling for his life for two and a half years in the Cushman Indian Hospital, he lost the ability to freely walk about the world. The second time his life changed is when he emerged from the hospital as a wheelchair user. Brushing the metaphorical ash out of his red hair, turned fiery by the beams of Itom Açai Oo-Oola (old old Father Sun), Gene greets the first day of his new found life; tires blazing! The third time his life changed was when he picked up a paintbrush. This was only the beginning of Gene’s struggles and great triumphs as a disabled artist. 

Like many before him, Gene took to painting when his legs lost their mobility. I would like to think Gene began painting because art granted him access to a world that he once thought lost. Later, the literal US of A($h0l3$) would decide that his family was not giving him “adequate” care. They ripped him from his family and placed him into an institution for disabled people. This is not the first, nor was it to be the last time that Indian (and disabled people if we are being honest) Children have been taken from their homes and families. While he was institutionalized, during a routine wheelchair transfer, Gene was dropped- resulting in the loss of mobility in his dominant hand. Furious after hearing what happened, his family showed up at the Indian Hospital and demanded his release; another rebirth came in the form of rescue. I was shocked to see the amount of access his family and community created to meet Gene’s access needs on the Shoalwater Bay Reservation. They built ramps for him, a geodesic dome art studio; they provided all of his physical care. “It becomes a priority to look at Indigenous ways of perceiving and understanding disability…” -Leah Lakshmi (pg. 22, “Care Work; Dreaming Disability Justice”) 

What he found after these metaphorical flames left him scarred, was that life was about to get a whole hell of a lot harder. Here, Gene began his struggle for accessibility, not just in the art world but in the world at large. When access to the outer world seemed lost, Gene was forced to turn inward and around him for inspiration. Gene was an artist first and foremost. Even with destiny painting his way, Gene struggled for physical access to the world he once knew. When he started art school, Gene was carried up two flights of stairs on a daily basis simply to attend class! Later, to buy art supplies he was forced to navigate the steps at the store entrance. His struggles with accessibility are reflected in his paintings. Three years after Genes’ spirit left this plane of existence, the American with Disabilities Act (ADA) would be passed and his paintings lost in a void. The world of his paintings would be rediscovered and revitalized thanks to Writer and Creative Judith Altruda. Gene painted his destiny into the stars and because of Judith, ever the star seeker herself, his work has been revitalized and brought back seemingly from the dead (another rebirth). 

An early article I read about Gene, they did not mention his disability and in the photo his wheelchair is hidden quite literally behind the body of his work. I stare at the portrait of Gene, wondering what was going through his head and feel the echoes of shame in my own story reverberate through me. That shame haunts me every time I am forced to make a “voluntary” disclosure about my disability. Do I lie and say no? If I choose to list my disability, I am afraid I won’t get the job. I opt for the Prefer not to disclose. The shame crawls up my throat as I muster the courage to ask someone to slow down, remind me of their name, or what I was talking about. Shame that comes from an ableist society which limits accommodations and bars accessibility. If your company deems your request “unreasonable” for whatever reason – they are legally in their rights to deny you access. As long as abled people get to decide what is reasonable or not, disabled people will never have true equitable access needed in public spaces. Our options as disabled people are to become “inspiration porn” or to be the “Evil Angry Disabled.” 

“Leaving Evidence” is a blog by Mia Mingus, a fellow disabled writer and educator. As well as a Disability Justice Activist, she is a community organizer known for coining the term “access intimacy”. As disabled people we are currently kept in poverty. Did you know it’s still legal to pay disabled people less than minimum wage? Then if we get approved to be on disability, which is grueling and filled with rejection; we cannot legally get married- lest we lose their life saving insurance. In the early pandemic, remote work and the world wide web created access for disabled members of society that are still not granted equal access despite the ADA. What we have now is just separate but equal and it baffles me that people cannot see this. 

Through the mouldy air and under rat droppings, Judith found the evidence that Gene left behind. He left paintings of a rich inner world, paintings depicting his newfound life and accessibility he created for himself and with the help of his community. Gene left evidence that we the disabled Indian artists have and will continue to always be here. and we are still seeking equitable access. In July, I turned 33 years young. I am one year older than the ADA and disabled people still do not have access to all public spaces or transportation. Stairs didn’t stop Gene and they sure as hell aren’t going to stop me.

*

Bio:

Osiris Cuen is a Disabled, Mexican Indigenous, QT2 Spirit Artist, that goes by many names. You may have seen them performing Drag as Pinky & The Brain Damage, or reading books to kids during “Hora de Cuentinflas”; their Spanish Immersive Drag Storytime. Osiris was the inagural SPARK 2023 artist in residence at the Filament theatre in Chicago; “STACKS!: An Immersive Art Experience about Libraries”. You may know them from their Solo Show- “The Rebirth of Osiris” with Haven Theatre Company, their role as “Gabby Orozco” in Arizona Theatre Company’s production of American Mariachi, or their 5 years of work with Childsplay, a professional Theatre company for Young Audiences; Alice’s Rock and Roll Adventures in Wonderland, The Yellow Boat, Smartest Girl in the World, Girls Who Wear Glasses, Super Cowgirl and Mighty Miracle. They graduated from Arizona State University; !Bocon!, The Tenement, with a bachelor’s degree in Theatre. You may contact them via email: cuenosiris@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviving the “Lost” Art of Eugene Landry

Thirty years after his death, a resilient Shoalwater Bay tribal artist has an exhibit in Astoria side by side with young tribal artists inspired by his example.
by Mike Francis
(originally published in HipFish Monthly, reprinted November 22 by Oregon Arts Watch online.)

 

Why are Eugene Landry’s paintings getting their first exhibition outside his southwest Washington hometown in 50 years, more than three decades after he died?

Landry was a gifted painter in oils and watercolors, and his story of creative persistence against enormous physical challenges would be compelling enough on its own. But the fact that the paintings were produced by a partly paralyzed artist living on a neglected reservation of Indigenous people, at a time when tribes like his fought merely for the right to have their existence recognized, makes the show at Astoria Visual Arts a powerful testament to human and tribal resilience.

Thanks to curator Judith Altruda of Astoria, who still keeps her home in Tokeland, Wash., home to the Shoalwater Bay tribal reservation, visitors to the gallery through Dec. 6 will see a representative sampling of Landry’s work, as well as the work of a new generation of tribal artists. They are filmmakers, photographers, painters, and beadworkers who are heirs to Landry’s tradition of creative expression…

Click here to continue reading.

Exhibit Reception Highlights

Portrait of Eugene Landry, an Artist, a Time and a Tribe, with Contemporary Shoalwater Bay Artists and Writers, opened at the Astoria Visual Arts Gallery on November 11.

“Thanks all who came to the opening of Eugene Landry – an Artist, a Time and a Tribe. We had a tremendous turn out! For the talk, Chinook council member, Devon Abing, graciously welcomed members of the Shoalwater Bay Tribe. Lee Shipman of Shoalwater presented Earl Davis and other veterans with flags for Veteran’s Day. Project organizer and curator Judith Altruda spoke about her connection to Gene Landry (1937-1988) and read from the recent publication of Squid magazine, a short story she wrote about Eugene’s portrait of Winona Mail Weber, painted in 1969. It was a great night!

See the show through December 6. AVA is open Friday, Saturday and Sunday from 11-3, and by appointment.”

 

Chinook Indian Nation councilman Devon Abing, shortly before being joined by other members of the Chinook Nation welcomed attendees onto their ancestral homeland.

 

Shoalwater Bay tribal elder Lee Shipman presenting former Marine and tribal artist Earl Davis with a commemorative flag for Veterans’ Day.

Shoalwater Bay artist Earl Davis and his son Aiden, with Earl’s sculpture “Knowledge Bearers.”

 

Tribal historian Winona Weber with the portrait Eugene painted of her in 1969

 

The crowd during Artwalk gathering before Judith’s talk.

History panels address indigenous on Willapa (Shoalwater) Bay before and after European and American colonization.

 

Shoalwater Bay Museum docent Jackson Wargo, a member of the Chinook Nation, and one of the contributors to a book of tribal memoir distributed at the event.

 

 

 

 

A New Generation

Shoalwater celebrations

Shoalwater celebrations: Modern artists cherish, preserve tribal culture

  • Oct 28, 2023

Dakota Davis describes the photo of himself holding a shield, a blanket and wearing a cedar hat, as a prayer to his late grandfather, who owned the items. “I learn a lot about my family, about myself, who I am, where I’m from, by putting together these pieces and they become very powerful photos to me,” he says.

A month-long exhibit of art by members of northwest Pacific County’s Shoalwater Bay Tribe will open in Astoria next week.

Four living artists are being honored as part of a celebration of the life of Eugene Landry.

Landry, who died in 1988, painted images of the Shoalwaters during a key period in their history as they worked to retain their federal recognition. Landry’s story will be highlighted in the Nov. 9 edition of Coast Weekend.

The exhibit will be hosted by the Astoria Visual Arts gallery, 1000 Duane St., Astoria. It opens Nov. 11 and runs through Dec. 2. An all-day opening reception is planned noon to 8 p.m. Nov. 11 with a talk by curator Judith Altruda at 5 p.m. Conversations with the modern artists are planned 1 p.m. Dec. 2 at the AVA gallery.

To read the full story click here.

 

Here are details of the four whose work will be featured with their artists’ statements accompanying the exhibit.

Altruda, who lives in Tokeland and Astoria, is a metal artist who has dedicated hours to promoting the work of Landry since discovering a cache of 70 of his paintings in a disused Grayland auto shop in 2019.

Her comments on each of the artists accompanies their submitted texts:

Earl Davis, a U.S. Marine Corps veteran, served as the Shoalwater Bay Tribe’s culture director from 2006 to 2023. He is pictured with a 1971 painting by Eugene Landry of his late father, Bruce Davis.

Earl Davis, a member of the Shoalwater Bay Indian Tribe in Tokeland, Wash., is a tribal artist trained in the Coast Salish and Willapa Chinook art styles.

He works mostly in wood and metal and draws inspiration from historic pieces and traditional knowledge to create contemporary interpretations of ancient art of the region.

He was the Shoalwater Tribe’s culture director from 2006 to 2023 and served in the U.S. Marine Corps between 2000 and 2004.

Altruda noted that Davis is now a full-time artist who has public arts commissions. “He brings a body of art from this part of the coast,” she said, noting that coastal Southwest Washington tribal art differs from better-known Haida and other First Nations’ work from northern areas of the West Coast. “The coastal area has a different look,” she said. “He has taken that and put his own spin on it. He uses cutting-edge technology to create his art — he uses hand tools as well as laser cutters.”

Earl Davis works in wood and metal, drawing inspiration from historic pieces and traditional knowledge to create contemporary interpretations of ancient art.

Dakota Davis

“I’m Dakota Davis or Chutwin (Little Bear), son of Earl Davis and direct descendant of Bob Saliki. A lot of my photography is inspired by the stories of my ancestors, the nature around us, nostalgia, and whatever I’m really feeling at the time. I try to tie in myself as an object to the natural world around us.

For example the photo of me holding a brief case, dressed in an outfit that you would see someone wearing at a dinner table, represents a lost character with all these good stories, bad traumas, and experiences that he carries with him (the brief case) everywhere. Looking at the vast ocean, he doesn’t know where to journey to next.

I explore my cultural identity through photos of prayers. The photo of me holding the shield, with the blanket and cedar hat, all belong to my grandfather who passed away and I was sending a prayer to him. I learn a lot about my family, about myself, who I am, where I’m from, by putting together these pieces and they become very powerful photos to me.”

Altruda commended the vigor with which Dakota Davis embraces his heritage. “He is young and pursues his cultural identity through his photography,” she said. He can also be found working on boats, continuing the family tradition. “He fishes, and the Davises are a fishing family, so there’s some pride in that.”

 

Madison, a 24-year old tribal artist, has worked in multiple mediums, from makeup to ink on paper and digital art.

 

“My name is Madison; I am a 24-year old artist from the Shoalwater Bay Indian Tribe. My family descends from the lower Chinook bands, the Chehalis and Nisqually. I work with multiple mediums from makeup, to ink on paper, digital art, and more recently, beadwork and sewing.

In late 2018, I fell into a kind of depression that I almost didn’t make it out of. One evening, I prayed for the first time in a long time. I sensed as if someone came to me to guide me and give me something to believe in.

This is when I started beading consistently every day. I started receiving dreams of my late Chitcha [grandma] Lorraine, she would show me glimpses of her work, asking favors of me, and so forth. I started journaling these dreams and asking my family members more about her, and our family lineage. She passed away when I was very young.

My Chitcha was a stellar beadwork artist. She would make these elaborate patterns in bracelets, earrings, hair pieces, belts, doll outfits, etc. I inherited a mini doll with a custom-beaded outfit when I was around six years old. I have yet to see all of the pieces that Chitcha left behind, but I know that they’re safely tucked away into the caring hands of my family members.

I feel as if it is my duty to continue asking my family about our lineage, to hunt down Chitcha’s beadwork pieces and find the pieces from my dreams, spend time with my family, and to carry on our traditions of making beautiful heirloom pieces.

Hiyas Masi. I thank you for providing me the opportunity to feel heard and seen.”

 

Altruda said she appreciates the way Madison’s modern work honors the memory of her creative grandmother, Lorraine Luwizi Anderson. “Madison uses herself as a canvas with her beading and make-up. The bead work comes from her grandmother, who inspired her. It is really cool to have that connection,” she said.

 

Sophia Anderson is a member of the Shoalwater Bay Tribe and grew up on the reservation on a rural coast of the Olympia Peninsula. Her work is fueled by her transition to life away from her roots after growing up on traditional land surrounded by her tribal community. She holds a bachelor’s in arts degree from the Evergreen State College and currently resides in Seattle.

Sophia Anderson paints on found wood panels and does beadwork, drawing inspiration from photographic records of her tribe’s history.

 

She paints on found wood panels, salvaged from a beach adjacent to the reservation, where the coastline has eroded down almost two miles a result of dams built on the Columbia River.

She draws inspiration for her paintings from photo references of her ancestors ranging from tintypes taken by Edward Curtis to family photos. Her beading is a meditative, healing gesture created in response to the content of her paintings. Fundamental to her practice is researching the documented history of her tribe; specifically looking at at the writings of James Swan through a critical socio-political lens.

Her mission ultimately is to interpret the relationships between genealogical and geographical history and trauma.

Anderson is Altruda’s grown daughter. There’s pride in her voice as she describes Anderson’s approach to art, using pieces of wood for her base. “It comes from homes destroyed on Washaway Beach [North Cove, WA]. It’s weather-worn, and irregular,” Altruda said. “It’s continuing something we are emphasizing—that commitment to place. That’s the thread running through all of it.”

 

To read the full story click here.