Creative Capital

Contemporary art’s interest in multiculturalism in the late ’80s and ’90s created a place for the work of many artists of color who were theretofore unrecognized. The Native American population, however, has yet to find such an embrace. “Everyone feels they know who Native people are, and yet they continually put us in one time period,” says Montana artist Bently Spang. “There has always been a need for this country to define Native people for political gain and personal exploitation. I’m doing my thing and I think I serve my people best by being a contemporary artist.”

Born in 1960 on the Crow reservation in Montana, Spang was raised both on and off the Northern Cheyenne reservation he calls home. Not surprisingly, Techno Powwow, Spang’s largest project to date, takes a little of both experiences. “I have always identified with my Cheyenne heritage, and my work examines how that identity manifests itself in these contemporary times,” he says. In conjoining these worlds, Spang explodes clichés about what Native American artwork should look like. Like many of his generational peers, Spang has found a special resonance with the DJ culture spawned by techno music and the sphere of the rave, a place where music lives in time and unfolds in time like ritual, to paraphrase cultural critic Evan Eisenberg. “I got into the rave scene back when I was in grad school, and I was blown away by the energy,” Spang says. “It felt like déjà vu; the effortless dancing that comes out of it is like going through a wall, and not unlike my own experiences at a powwow on the reservation.”

In Techno Powwow, Spang brings together the spheres of rave dance culture and the Native American traditional powwow. This synthesis of cultures is a mixture of dance, music, and animated video. In the spirit of George Clinton, who proclaimed the interconnectedness of personal politics and the spiritual joy of the party space — “If you free your mind, your ass will follow” — Spang’s newest project is a true social sculpture. The site-specific installation takes place in a cavernous warehouse space with two DJs spinning techno music in front of a video screen and sharing the stage with Spang and Native dancers. Beyond directing the action, the artist assumes a performative role in the work, acting as his recurring fictional character, The Blue Guy. Painted from head to toe in Yves Klein blue, “The Blue Guy is the Indian of the future; he is meant to replace the icon of the [tribal] chief,” Spang explains. “He is now turning into this kind of superhero character.” While dancing in a combination of break-dance and Native forms, the Blue Guy also paints aphorisms on his chest admonishing societal views on Native Americans.

In Spang’s sculptures and installations, one also finds the appropriative energy and intuition of the DJ in his mélange of materials. These funky pieces are often constructed of found and made objects, juxtaposing organic resources from his reservation with commercial products made of plastic, rubber, silicone, and even manufactured “authentic” Indian beef jerky. Spang is an artist who makes unabashedly identity-based artworks, such as Totem, a sculpture in the form of a ceremonial shirt that is covered with hundreds of photographs of people close to him.

Techno Powwow brings together all the elements Spang has worked on over the last 10 years, combining performance and installation-based art. Recorded for future plays on DVD, the site-specific nature of the performance is documented like a concert. But like any concert, the piece’s live vibes work best. Techno Powwow aims to be nothing short of a consciousness party.