Tul-lock-chísh-ko, Drinks the Juice of the Stone (Choctaw) 1834

Curator: Painted in 1834, George Catlin's oil portrait "Tul-lock-chísh-ko, Drinks the Juice of the Stone (Choctaw)" presents a striking image of a Choctaw man. Editor: It's funny, my immediate thought is that he seems...fiery. All that red! It’s emanating from him almost like an aura. Curator: Indeed. Catlin often aimed to capture the perceived nobility and strength of Indigenous peoples, and we see some of that Romantic era sensibility here. Notice the elaborate headdress, the prominent ornaments, and the tools he carries that mark him, perhaps, as a figure of authority or a skilled athlete. Editor: I also see something more than nobility. There's an alertness in his eyes, a grounded presence. It goes beyond just "posing," don't you think? Plus, look at those slashes on his thighs—ritualistic markings, maybe? It feels quite intimate, like we're glimpsing something beyond the artist’s surface-level intentions. Curator: These marks could also have easily been intended as markers for this person in terms of the romantic art era as merely belonging to another indigenous culture. Catlin's work is invaluable, even as it highlights the complexities of representation and the power dynamics inherent in his position as a white artist portraying Indigenous subjects. Editor: Absolutely, it's layered with those dynamics! It's like looking through a tinted window. Still, his intensity makes me curious, makes me wonder what Tul-lock-chísh-ko was really like beyond this oil-painted portrayal. He is posed holding some game equipment so maybe it was how he was known among the indigenous folks at that time. Curator: Catlin aimed to record a vanishing world, and his art acts now as a historical document even with his colonial lenses on the representation and intent. Editor: Maybe. But it also shows me a bit of the Choctaw man. He stares outward even today. Maybe something can't truly disappear if you allow them to look out into the future, too.