Cigar Store Indian c. 1939

Curator: Wow, there's an almost ghostly, sepia quality to it, wouldn't you say? Editor: It certainly evokes a past era. We are looking at "Cigar Store Indian," attributed to Gerald Transpota, dating to around 1939. The artist worked in mixed media—watercolor, charcoal, and who knows what else to give it this unique patina. It’s like seeing a phantom of commercial history. Curator: Absolutely! The figure stands so still, like a frozen memory, ready to leap from his painted form. I can almost smell the woodsmoke, too, oddly. It is more ghostly and tragic rather than nostalgic in its impact. Ironic considering the subject matter. Editor: The “cigar store Indian” became a very familiar fixture across America in the 19th and 20th centuries, acting as advertisement for tobacconists. We see those feathers, those stylized carvings mimicked in the garment—it all speaks to how indigenous identities were commodified. But now this is itself an artwork ABOUT that object, layered history. Curator: Yes! It seems a bittersweet relic, maybe unintentionally poignant. It carries that weight, especially now when those figures have largely vanished and when society is now deeply aware of these problematic appropriations. Editor: Absolutely. What strikes me most, beyond the overt symbolism, is the quiet dignity the artist imbued this particular figure with. His gaze isn't passive. There's something… present there. And perhaps the most complex and troubling symbols become hauntingly powerful. Curator: That's exactly it—there's something of the ghost and something still stubbornly resilient in that gaze. This artwork serves as a strange memorial. Editor: Precisely. This “Cigar Store Indian” reflects both an inglorious past and provokes contemplation. It's a piece I won't soon forget.