Book of Drawings c. 1870 - 1890

Curator: Here we have "Book of Drawings," dating roughly from 1870 to 1890, and attributed to Ohet-toint. It’s a mixed-media piece, primarily drawing, rendered with colored pencil and other materials on paper. Currently, it resides here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Editor: The first word that comes to mind is… hypnotic. The dense, repeating patterns almost ripple, don’t they? There’s something incredibly calming and yet slightly unsettling about that relentless regularity. Curator: It's a fantastic example of decorative art of the period. The meticulousness reflects a deep appreciation for design. I see echoes of ancient wave symbols which were intended to provide clarity to any journey in life. Editor: But regularity, as you mention, wasn't something equally shared by all in that era. Native artistic expression was often suppressed in the late 19th century in an attempt to erase Native culture. Curator: And that's the tension. What did these patterns mean for Ohet-toint? Were they a direct continuation of indigenous traditions, or were they also reflecting external artistic movements? Perhaps there were ways to explore traditional spirituality in this way, when access to the sacred itself was restricted? Editor: That reading has promise. Considering its materiality as a “book of drawings,” the format implies a personal, introspective element. We need to contextualize art like this not simply as aesthetics, but as part of a broader narrative of resilience and self-determination. Curator: It is interesting how those natural textures—that slightly chaotic yet organic flow—are placed inside such a strict, regimented pattern. There is also a striking lack of representation in these images. Do you read into that silence any possible intention, or agency on the part of the creator? Editor: Perhaps that silence, as you call it, speaks volumes about resistance. In a society aggressively imposing its own narrative, abstracting to this degree becomes an act of cultural preservation through abstraction. A symbolic protection. Curator: I'm drawn to how these repeated motifs could act as a sort of cultural memory—a way of encoding history and belief into a visual language, so that culture survives within pattern, accessible to those who understand its subtle grammar. Editor: Exactly, and analyzing that "grammar," that symbolism is vital. It is a vital way we can begin to understand resistance, resilience, and artistic innovation that refuses erasure, during an important time in history.