Crow Chief, His Wife, and a Warrior 1861 - 1869

Editor: Here we have George Catlin’s “Crow Chief, His Wife, and a Warrior,” made sometime between 1861 and 1869, using watercolor and coloured pencils. It strikes me as a formal, almost staged portrait. What do you see in this piece, especially considering Catlin’s broader project? Curator: Catlin’s work is deeply entangled with the politics of representation and the dispossession of Indigenous peoples. He claimed to be documenting "vanishing" cultures, but this framing is inherently problematic. How does that knowledge impact how you understand what's depicted? Editor: I guess it makes me question his perspective more. I mean, "vanishing cultures" suggests a passive decline, not the active displacement and violence inflicted upon them. So, these aren't neutral portraits; they are constructions of a specific narrative. Curator: Exactly! Consider the power dynamics at play. Catlin, a white American artist, capturing images of Indigenous leaders during a period of intense colonial expansion. We have to ask whose interests these images ultimately served. Do you see any hints of resistance, resilience, or agency in how these figures are portrayed, despite the artist's intentions? Editor: Well, there is a certain dignity in their posture and attire. Especially the Chief, with the headdress. It’s a bold statement, maybe a form of self-representation that pushes back against the "vanishing" narrative. I appreciate knowing more of the context. Curator: Absolutely. These artworks become sites of critical engagement where we can actively confront and challenge colonial legacies. Art, therefore, turns into more than just looking at images, but questioning whose views and agenda prevail. What will you be taking away? Editor: That looking closely isn't enough. I have to bring in ideas of history and colonization, not simply admire what's on the surface, and also remember how important the subjects' own cultural survival strategies were and continue to be.