Phoenix Home and Garden - Master Weaver Helen Nez - March 2015

Cowboys and Indians - Dream Weaver - August/September 2013

For ease of reading online……

‘DREAMWEAVER’

Cowboys & Indians Magazine
August/September 2013 Issue
Feature Article about
the Nizhoni Ranch Gallery
in Sonoita Arizona.

Steve Getzwiller’s truck serves as a mobile office during his monthly journeys to the Navajo reservation. As he turns off the Arizona highway onto little more than a dirt trail, bouncing across the deep ruts created by the long-gone spring rains, his cowboy hat slides back and forth across the dashboard.

He knows just about every spot on the rez where he can get a cell phone signal. When he has one, he takes the opportunity to check in with his wife, Gail, back home in Sonoita, Arizona, or with the Navajo weavers he is going to visit in their homes and hogans. This quiet cowboy, whose ranching heritage goes back generations through Arizona and New Mexico territorial days, clear back to the Republic of Texas, is considered one of the premier collectors and dealers of Navajo weavings in the country. But for him, these visits aren’t purely business.

“It’s more a family relationship than a business one,” he says. “It’s a collaborative partnership, and when you consider I’m working exclusively with the same weavers for 10, 20, 30 years, which tells you something about the relationship.” Which is, truly, a deep one. Getzwiller started working with the mothers and grandmothers of some of the women now weaving for him today. And over time, they have come to trust him.

“There’s definitely mutual respect,” he says. “I’m their banker, employer, counselor, friend. Their problems become my problems.” Getzwiller knows the region well. He grew up on a ranch in the southeastern corner of Arizona and spent a lot of time as a kid around the Amerind Foundation in Dragoon, a museum and research center for Native American arts and culture. Archaeologist Charles C. Di Peso, who directed the foundation for 30 years until his death in 1982, helped to spark the young man’s  imagination, inspiring him to study anthropology at the University of Arizona and start collecting weavings at the first opportunity. “I was able to afford my first Navajo weavings when I was 18 by trading my childhood collection of .22 rifles,” he says. “After I got out of college I just went out and started living it…traveling to the reservation and buying and selling pawn jewelry and Navajo weavings.” In those days, he made the eight-hour trek twice a month, as one of several hundred licensed traders. “In the early days, when all the trading posts were there, there was a lot of distain for me, (from the other traders) even though I worked closely with them, brokering the sale of several trading post rugs for them,” he recalls. “The traders used to call me a ‘hogan hopper’ because I started working directly with weavers. Interestingly enough, I’m one of the last ones standing.” Part of Getzwiller’s success can be attributed to the fact that, from the beginning, he was not simply interested in the sale, but also enabling the women to market their work to the world. He encouraged them to experiment and expand their designs while keeping many of the traditional patterns. His philosophy dovetailed with the Diné to preserve their own culture while incorporating the best of others into it.

“The goal of my life’s work in Navajo weaving has been to see how far I can push the envelope, how much I can improve contemporary Navajo weaving, bringing it to its highest level possible,” Getzwiller says. “That’s what was accomplished at the turn of the 19 th century by a very few dedicated traders with the Navajo, such as Juan Lorenzo Hubbell and J.B. Moore.” Hubbell, who established his first trading post on the Navajo Nation in 1878, worked with Navajo weavers to increase their sales and become self-sufficient by showing them the classic patterns that could yield the highest profits and encouraging high standards, from quality dyes to tightly woven fibers. J.B. Moore, who owned a trading post in Crystal, New Mexico, emphasized marketing, offering a printed mail-order catalog and branding distinctive regional designs.

For all he’s done, Getzwiller has been likened to a contemporary Hubbell or Moore. He encourages the use of the traditional Churro wool, which comes from a sheep species that was nearly wiped out twice by the federal government but still managed to survive. (The fifth-generation cattleman even purchased his own flock, which is now in the care of a Navajo family.) He has also introduced silk and alpaca fibers to traditional weavers, creating a new market of “wearable art.”

Getzwiller has further encouraged weavers to use some of the most valuable and historic natural dyes, such as indigo, lac and cochineal, instead of the more readily available commercial aniline dyes. “I’m definitely not a ‘chips and swatches’ kind of guy!” he says with a grin.“Many of (the dyes the weavers use) are based on some of the more successful things that have come from the last 100 years or so of Navajo weavings.”

Whether the resulting rug designs are muted or vibrant, Getzwiller offers the same advice when it comes to incorporating them in your home. “Remember, its art,” he says. “In my recommendation… with any dealings of art, paintings, whatever…I suggest that you don’t base your upholstery on your art. I always recommend you stay as neutral as you can (with the furnishings) so everything works together.” Steve and Gail’s home is a perfect example. Thirteen years ago, they moved from his childhood home and ranch in Benson, Arizona to the grassy oak-covered hills of Sonoita. While it added another hour to Steve’s monthly commute to the reservation, the adobe hilltop home became the perfect showcase for his weavings. “My business model is unlike anyone else’s that I’m aware of,” as he gestures around the massive room where he spends time with clients. Here, weavings are not just on the beautiful mesquite floor, but also hanging on the walls alongside Western paintings and draped on the backs of chairs. The room is furnished with pieces from the classic Arts and Crafts period that embrace and enhance the beauty of Navajo textiles.

The Getzwiller home doubles as their Nizhoni Ranch Gallery (nizhoni is Navajo for “beautiful place.”) When customers are seated in comfortable leather chairs, gazing out on the grasslands of Sonoita, they often blown away when Getzwiller presents with a flourish a dazzling blanket or rug. “With regard to collectors coming here, we’re by appointment only, which is sometimes intimidating to someone because they feel an obligation,” the dealer says. “But, it’s primarily so that Gail and I can give our full attention to them, as much as we possibly can. I enjoy sharing, and this,” he says, gesturing around the room again, “is what they came for.” He calls it an “ambitious Mom & Pop”, with Gail handling a lot of the business and bookkeeping end of things, as well as keeping up with the website. A large monitor connected to their e-mail accounts is always up and running in the kitchen, allowing the couple to see questions and orders coming in. “We make sales on a daily basis on the Internet,” Getzwiller says, “and I’m having fun with the website, pushing that envelope too.” Over the years, Getzwiller has handled thousands of weavings, many of them fine antiques from different periods. Which is why he decided to establish the Churro registry, to record each piece along with the artist who created it. “There’s no way of knowing who the earlier weavers were,” he says. “I can identify certain weavers by their weaving style and quality, but not who she was. But, in a hundred years we’re going to know who all the ladies I’m working with are, because there’s going to be a record. And that’s important to me.”

Preserving the past while looking ahead to the future is a priority for this cowboy who sees the art form gradually and quite literally dying out. While he is currently working with weavers from ages 17 to 90, he understands the outside world with its focus on instant gratification is now part of reservation life. Spending months…even years…on one weaving will become a thing of the past. And, Getzwiller realizes his own role as trader will someday end, as his two grown children pursue careers of their own in much different fields. “One of my goals at this point in my life is to share my collection through various museum exhibits,” he says. “I’ve done a few in the past, but I’m going to make a concerted effort to share various aspects of the collection, which will help the public understand what a great art form these pieces represent.” As he sits back, reflecting on what he’s accomplished, his eyes hold a satisfied look. “My job is the best one I know of, because it enables me to do what I most enjoy doing,and that’s working with Navajo weavers and seeing what can be accomplished in new areas with their work,” he says with a slow smile. “This is absolutely a truly American art form. But we’re all only keepers of these things for a few decades. And then, we’re gonna share them one way or the other.”

Living West - Blanket Statement - May/June/July 2003

By Bonnie Gangelhoff, Photos by Terence Moore

For ease of reading online……

BLANKET STATEMENT

Navajo weavings and Mission furniture fill this Arizona home with authenticity

When Steve Getzwiller was 19, he traded his childhood collection of hunting rifles for four Navajo rugs at a trading post in Phoenix, AZ He didn’t necessarily get the better deal. “ But I didn’t have any further use for the guns. And I sure wanted those rugs badly,” Getzwiller says. Today, many more brilliantly hued Navajo textiles blanket the walls of this home, 45 miles southeast of Tucson, AZ, on a 70-acre horse ranch which he shares with his wife, Gail. The ranch lolls on the edge of the Whetstone Mountains where oak trees dot lush rolling hills and sprawling skies host dramatic violet and pink sunsets.

More than 30 years have passed since the young Getzwiller, the son of rodeo cowboy Marion Getzwiller, traded in his guns for rugs. And today what began as a pastime has turned into a vocation: Getzwiller makes his living as a dealer in Native American textiles and basketry. He buys and sells both historic and contemporary Navajo weavings and is considered an expert on the subject. In 2000 the Desert Caballeros Western Museum in Wickenburg, AZ, featured his personal collection of Native American rugs in an exhibit.

The Getzwiller’s’ adobe home, the original structure constructed in 1911 in the Territorial style, is filled with dozens of Navajo rugs and weavings that dominate the 5,000-square-foot residence. The textiles are stacked, spread, and sprinkled throughout various rooms, with rugs gracing the floors, and blankets hung on the walls as well as draped on beds and sofas.

Woven from sheep’s wool in rich earth-tone hues of crimson red, indigo blue, and earthy brown, they add warmth to the spaces. Their bold geometric designs were created mostly on the Navajo reservation in Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah in such popular patterns as Two Grey Hills, Teec Nos Pos, and Ganado. Handcrafted textiles like these sell anywhere from $200 to $20,000 and may take a year or more to produce.

To balance the bright colors and busy designs of the rugs, the Getzwiller chose clean-lined period Mission furniture for their home. Mission furniture originated in the early 1900s, a part of the American Arts & Crafts movement which is currently undergoing a healthy revival. The marriage of the Navajo rugs and the historic American furniture, made of heavy wood, is a good one. Take the entryway, where two Navajo rugs dating from the 1920s greet visitors. One weaving hangs on a wall behind a Mission-style table and another covers the tile floor of the entry. The strong geometric patterns of the sepia-toned textiles blend well with the minimalist lines of the sturdy brown oak furniture.

Likewise, in the living area, a detailed pictorial Churro wool tapestry sprawls across the wall above a rare desk manufactured by L.& J.G. Stickley. The simple but practical Stickley piece dates from the early 1900s and offers a subtle complement to the eye-catching textile. The Stickley brothers, who believed in the inherent beauty of natural wood and leather, helped popularize the Arts & Crafts movement in the United States. Stickley furniture is still manufactured today at a plant in Manlius, NY, but the Getzwillers prefer to purchase older pieces through dealers and auctions.

The union of the rugs and furniture, as well as Arts & Crafts lamps and Native American basketry and pottery displayed throughout the residence, imparts a rustic, western feel sans cliché. No statues of howling coyotes or cornball cowboy curios here. Authenticity matters too much to Getzwiller, who is currently helping to preserve and revive 19th-century designs made from the wool of Churro Sheep.

He regularly commissions Navajo weavers to produce highly detailed rugs from the wool. Every month he climbs into his Chevy Suburban and heads to the reservation, spending a week working with a select group of weavers. Getzwiller has also reintroduced the use of cochineal dye, a crimson red-purple dye that is extracted from the bodies of small insects imported from Mexico, among other places. “Cochineal is one of the two natural substances used for dark red in the world. To the Spaniards it was more valuable by weight than gold,” he contends.

As much sense as this interior design makes for his ranch home, it’s hard to believe that the house was once completely filled with Victorian furniture. Getzwiller used to tell customers that it proved Navajo rugs could blend with any style of furniture. But he knew the Arts & Crafts-era pieces would strike a better balance with his textile collection, so eventually the Getzwillers sent the Victorian pieces off to auction houses in California and Massachusetts. As the furniture sold, they turned around and purchased the Arts & Crafts period pieces. “It was just like the time I traded guns in for rugs,” Getzwiller says. “The only way I could afford to begin collecting the new pieces was to trade in the old ones.”

Houston-based Bonnie Gangelhoff is editor of Southwest Art magazine. (Resources: Hubbell Trading Post, Ganado AZ; Steve Getzwiller’s Nizhoni Ranch Gallery; L.& J.G. Stickley Furniture: Robb & Stuckey, Scottsdale, AZ; Baker Knapp & Tubbs, Los Angeles and San Francisco, CA.) May/June/July 2003 – Living West Magazine

Dear Souvenir Magazine - A TIMELESS VISIT TO NIZHONI RANCH GALLERY - May 2016

For ease of reading online……

A TIMELESS VISIT TO NIZHONI RANCH GALLERY
By Susan Sorg 

Iconic images of the Old West are often of Monument Valley captured in countless movies, or the rough and tumble life shared by cowboys and horses in Tombstone. Both are in Arizona, but about an eight hour drive apart, so how is possible to combine both in one day, especially if you’re staying in Tucson? You can capture the essence of both with a 45 minute drive to the southeast.

Head for the rolling grasslands of Sonoita, Arizona, a small ranching community and pure cowboy country. Sonoita has a reputation for its fine vineyards and wineries, but there’s a hidden gem which can be even more intoxicating than the headiest wine offered: The peace and timeless beauty found in Nizhoni Ranch Gallery. This is an intimate, appointment-only gallery featuring rare and beautiful art woven in the lands surrounding and including Monument Valley…in Navajo Nation.

The Navajo Indian reservation comprises 27,425 square miles, and covers the corners of three states: Arizona, New Mexico and Utah. It’s not only the largest reservation in the US, but also the only one where the people live on their true native lands. Surrounded by four sacred mountains, this is the spiritual and cultural home to the Diné, the Navajo people whose beginnings are told through legends. Living in harmony with the land and nature, life here follows traditions…like that of a grandmother teaching her granddaughter to weave sheep’s wool and following designs more than a hundred years old. Now enter the cowboy, Steve Getzwiller, owner of Nizhoni Ranch Gallery. He’s the real deal, with his cowboy heritage stretching back generations to the territorial days of Arizona and New Mexico and the early days of Texas. He’s the son of a champion team roper, and even did some rodeo roping of his own. But when he was 19 this lanky, soft-spoken cowboy traded his collection of .22 rifles for some Navajo weavings…and never looked back. More than 45 years later, Getzwiller is considered a premier expert in Navajo weavings, working with about 40 weavers creating one-of- a-kind textiles. Nizhoni, which means “beautiful” in the Navajo language, is the perfect name for this hilltop gallery which is also home for Steve and his wife Gail. Walk across the tile patio and through the heavy oak door, and you’re stepping into another world, one filled with beauty and tranquility. “They’re blown away,” says Steve Getzwiller, when asked what his clients sense during their appointment-only visit. “It far exceeds their expectations, invariably. They see the material online, but once they get here and see it in person, it’s a whole other thing. The setting is not like anything they’ve been exposed to before.” Stepping into the gallery itself, with its magnificent mesquite wood floor, this 20-by- 40- foot room is filled with Arts and Crafts-era furnishings which complement the dozens and dozens of spectacular Navajo weavings on the walls, draped across furniture or stored in glass- front cases. Historic Native American basketry is also prominently displayed, along with paintings by southwestern artists and classic Edward S. Curtis orotones. “There are some people who are hesitant about coming out by appointment, because they feel like it’s a commitment, but I don’t put anybody under any pressure,” says Getzwiller.

Still…be prepared to learn…and to be dazzled as he casually unfurls a Navajo blanket or rug with an incredibly complex design. He’ll share with you some of the intricacies of how weavers work for months or sometimes even years to complete one piece. You’ll not only learn the story behind the work, but what to look for when you start looking on your own. Some of the weavers Getzwiller works with he has known for most of their lives. Because he also often worked with their mothers and grandmothers, he chuckles and says some he worked with before they were born. His goal had always been to raise Navajo weaving “to the next level” as he calls it, by guiding some back to truly traditional designs, some with more open space and yet others very complicated. He also was instrumental in bringing back the Churro sheep, a particular species which has low lanolin content and was nearly wiped out by federal government range management decades ago.

“There’s no shortcutting the process,” he says as he describes how it’s all done by hand. “The dyes in my Churro collection come from Switzerland, and they’re the best available. We have a palette that on one else has in the weaving business.” He’ll explain what different patterns and symbols mean, and why the weaver chose to incorporate that. You’ll learn how one weaver spent more than two years on an extremely complex piece based on a ceremonial sandpainting, and how, as a mathematician she planned it out first on graph paper. Another master weaver gets her inspiration from abstract paintings by a contemporary American artist. It’s as if time stops during your visit to Nizhoni. The peaceful quiet may be punctuated by the rapid chirps of a cactus wren, or the sigh of the wind through nearby cedars. Whether you leave with a weaving, a piece of jewelry or other Native American art, you still leave this place changed, with a new appreciation for what time, patience and skill can create. “Visitors take with them an experience they truly enjoyed,” says Getzwiller. And what better way to spend some time than in this timeless corner of the Southwest?

Alpacas Magazine - A Blend of Traditions - Winter 2010

A Blend of Traditions
by Susan Sorg

What happens when you take the best of both worlds, and combine them? The result can amaze and astonish, as followers of Navajo textiles are discovering thanks to John Igini and Steve Getzwiller. These two men are, to their knowledge, the only ones who are combining alpaca fibers with the skill of Navajo weavers, using an untraditional fiber in their very traditional process. It’s a partnership where Igini provides the fleece from the 26 alpacas he raises, and Getzwiller uses his connections and knowledge from more than 30 years of working with weavers on the Navajo reservation. “Sure, I could go up to the reservation and get weavers,”

Igini says. “But, I wouldn’t have nearly the same quality I’d get working with Steve, because Steve works only with the best.” Igini and Getzwiller, who are best of friends with homes in Sonoita, Arizona, come from completely different backgrounds… and yet they share a common bond: their deep appreciation for Navajo textiles. “I grew up in Chicago,” says Igini, “and my mother and father collected art, so I had always had an appreciation for art. I just switched my subject, somewhat, from what I grew up He came out to Arizona to go to college, and never left. His appreciation for the Southwest, its lifestyle and culture grew. Igini began collecting Navajo weavings, spending more and more time with those knowledgeable about the subject. That’s how he heard about Steve Getzwiller, considered one of the West’s most outstanding experts on the subject. Steve is a native Arizonan and a 5th generation rancher. He’s spent more than 30 years immersed in this art form. “I’m a collector first,” he says. “I only commission what I would want to own.”

Getzwiller, always looking to push this medium to the next level, had a few of the weavers he works with create pieces using silk and a silk-merino blend, instead of wool only from sheep. That’s what got his friend, John Igini, thinking about alpacas. “I knew about them, and I knew how fine their fleece was, but I don’t think I’d even touched one. I knew that down in South America they’ve been weaving with alpaca fiber for 6,000 years, with some of the best weavings, just incredible, from there. So I thought if the Navajo ladies could just work with this wonderful fiber, we could make much nicer weavings than with the sheep’s wool.”

He started with eight alpacas, four males and four females, all Huacayas. “The first couple of years,” Igini says, “I didn’t have enough fiber, so I was just buying fiber from other alpaca ranchers in the area, to have enough to send to the mill.” (Now, with 26 alpacas, he’s sending an average of 125 pounds to a mill in Ruidoso, New Mexico, giving him a yield of about 100 pounds of wool annually.)

Once Igini had the yarn and chose a design, it was in Getzwiller’s hands to find the right weaver to try it. He chose Kathy Marianito, a direct descendant of Manuelito, a legendary 19th century Navajo chief. Despite her deep ties to the past, it wasn’t a problem with her, or a few of the other weavers he works with trying something new instead of the traditional Churro sheep wool. “There was no resistance,” he says, “because they’ve already been through the silk phase.

This is a small corps of experienced weavers already accustomed to working with exotic fibers.” “I’ve been weaving all my life,” she says. “So did my mother, my grandmother…I love to weave, and I always wanted to do different things with it. This is much finer, (alpaca fiber)… almost like the size of thread you can hardly see.”

The result was stunning, and surprised many, including Kathy’s uncle, who is a medicine man, and was holding a blessing ceremony for weavers. Kathy Marianito relayed the story to Getzwiller of the medicine man’s reaction when she brought out the blanket she wove with “He was really surprised!” she says. “He said it was real good…really beautiful!”

“I was expecting that they would be significantly resistant because it was not woven with the traditional fiber associated with it,” says Getzwiller. “But, he was just completely taken with the fact the end result was like a blanket unlike anything he’d probably seen in Navajo weavings, in terms of the texture and how it felt.” It confirmed what Igini had believed, that the beauty would be there along with the softness.

“That’s what got me interested in doing it, the blankets (instead of rugs). If something sits on the floor, it doesn’t matter how soft it is. But, if you’re wearing it, wrapped up in it or using it as a blanket on a bed, it’s nice to have it a little bit softer.” Spinning the wool of course makes a difference, and alpaca is naturally a finer yarn in texture as well as softer. It also has no lanolin associated with it, when compared to Churro.

“Although you can spin Churro as fine as alpaca, the alpaca’s always going to be softer than the Churro wool,” according to Igini. “Then there’s the weaver,” he says, “the touch they use has to do with the softness. Some weavers pack down the yarn harder when they’re weaving, and then it’s not as soft. Kathy has just the perfect way of handling it, so whatever she does is softer than someone else doing the same weaving. It’s just amazing.”

It was the first of several. Igini has had 16 pieces, primarily shawls and blankets, all made from the wool of his alpacas over a span of seven years. “Not a lot of productivity there,” he says with a laugh, and is quick to add how this is one business which is all about quality over quantity. It’s time consuming work, all done by hand, with pieces taking an average of four to nine months to make. With a bedspread, you’re looking at nine months or longer for one that’s 7

Igini proudly displays several on the walls of his restaurant, “The Velvet Elvis” in Patagonia, Arizona. He has more at home on his walls, a bed, or on his wife’s shoulders. “It’s ‘wearable art’. You can hang it as a shawl on the wall, or drape it on your couch, or, if you get cold you can wrap yourself up in it.” It’s the “wearable” part that makes this art form so very different. It’s also what adds to the appeal, as Igini found out when one of his alpaca shawls was literally purchased off of his “We were at Steve’s ‘Next Phase’ exhibit at Dos Caballeros Museum in Wickenburg. I think I had five weavings in it which I owned. My wife Cecilia was wearing an alpaca shawl, and one lady there really loved it! It wasn’t in the exhibit and my wife was just wearing it there, but this woman just had to have it and bought it right there!”

When you arrive at Igini’s ranch, the Bar I G in Sonoita, you can’t help but see his alpacas, as during much of the day they have the run of the property. That is, until feeding time, when he gets all of their attention. Walking among them and stroking them, talking softly, Igini points out each animal and their different characteristics and personalities. He makes it clear his alpacas are not for show. “I’m more into textiles,” he says firmly, but with a smile.

“Even though I’ve sold a couple of pieces, that wasn’t my objective in the beginning. It wasn’t so much to sell, but to surround myself with beautiful things and to be involved in.

As for Getzwiller, he continues to look ahead to the next level, the next phase, which a few years ago he pointed out were blankets. In a way, it’s bringing the Navajo tradition full circle, because that’s originally what their weavings focused on in the 19th century. With the introduction of machine-made blankets in the 1890’s, the Navajos adapted with it, shifting their talents to rugs. It’s coming back to blankets, as Getzwiller gently nudges his weavers to use their traditional methods but with new designs, colors, sizes…and fibers. He sees this pairing of alpaca fiber and Navajo talent as a natural when it comes to blankets and shawls.

“The Incas were responsible for probably the finest weavings ever produced in the world,” he says. “The next finest weaving tradition is with the Navajos.” Two distinct art forms, two distinctly traditional fibers, and two men with their own ideas… all coming together in a result which is beautiful to look at, and still soft enough to wear.

Native American Art Magazine - A Sacred Subject - April/May 2016

A Sacred Subject

Below is the article in easy to read format.  Enjoy!!

A SACRED SUBJECT
by Susan Sorg

Always in demand, they are an art form considered rare and highly prized by collectors of Native American art. Navajo weavings, specifically pictorials centered on sandpaintings, Yeis and Yei Be Cheis, are the stars of Woven Holy People now on display at Nizhoni Ranch Gallery in Sonoita, Arizona. While it’s pretty unusual to find more than a handful of this particular style of weaving in one place, this current show features more than 60 of these intricate and incredibly complicated weavings which hold truly special meanings to the Diné, the Navajo people.

Sandpaintings are considered an integral part of blessing or healing ceremonies to cure a person’s physical or spiritual ills. While sandpaintings themselves are temporary, a weaving like this is permanent, which is why sandpainting rugs or blankets can be controversial as it depicts certain revered figures. The Yeis and Yei Be Cheis are isolated elements of the ceremonies themselves, and considered to be sensitive and sacred imagery, according to gallery owner, dealer and collector Steve Getzwiller.

“A weaver has to have gone through the ceremonies and received clearance so to speak from the medicine man and the spirits of the Diné,” says Getzwiller. “The design will flow then through them to the loom.”

 Getzwiller says it’s the detail and depth of the pieces on exhibit which is so impressive, partly because of the total scarcity of material to begin with.

“Less than 1 percent of Navajo weavings even go in that direction,” according to Getzwiller. “That’s always been the case, and that’s why they are so rare. Some of it dates from 1900 to the present time, which predates what’s conventionally thought to be the time frame the earliest ones were made in. It’s the best things I’ve been able to put together… and have seen in my career.

One piece, Beauty Way Sandpainting Weaving, which won Best of Textiles and Best of Category in sandpaintings last summer at the Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonial in Gallup, New Mexico, took weaver Selena Yazzie two years to create (some sandpainting weavings often take longer). However, this 2015 winner is actually based on an old design.

“It’s taken from an antique piece I had years ago,” says Getzwiller. “It would have been woven in the Lukachukai area. If you look at how some of the headdresses are coming out of the border…I’ve seen three or four in this style. That was the weaver’s particular signature, and what it does is add dimension.”

Another piece, Storm Pattern/Yei Be Chei, is from the 1930’s, and is one Getzwiller considers rare. “The proportions are pretty unusual. The three Yeis in the center are females and the guy with the green shirt, he’s the Talking God, the head of the Yei Be Chei ceremony.

All “I’m a collector first and foremost. That’s why I’m in this business,” he adds.

Unlike Getzwiller’s earlier exhibits, all pieces in this show are for sale. He simply feels it’s time. “You only have the opportunity to own something for 20, 30, 40 years, and then it has to pass on to someone else. That is my goal and objective with my collection now is to place it in the hands of somebody else who’s going to appreciate it as much as I did for a period of time.”

The setting for this could not be more perfect, in the spacious gallery, which is also Getzwiller’s home in the ranching grasslands of southeastern Arizona. The peace and tranquility of the location only adds to the experience; a perfect spot to view something so sacred and meaningful to the Navajo culture.

Woven Holy People runs through May 28th.

Fiber Arts - Threads of Tradition - Nov/Dec 2010

THREAD OF TRADITION
by Susan Sorg

FROM ONE GENERATION to the next, weaving traditions are passed on with a single thread.  The design, palette, and style may differ, but the thread remains constant, trying each generation to the next.

So it is with Navajo weavers Lucy Begay and her daughter, Ellen.  Both not only follow the traditions of Navajo weavers but live in the most traditional way of the Dine, or Navajo people, on their native land, the Navajo Nation of Arizona.  Almost seventy, Lucy spends summers at her sheep camps (passed down through generations) weaving by daylight, as there is no electricity.  The rest of the year is spent with her ninety-six-year old husband in their traditional Hogan, a home they share with daughter Ellen, now in her mid-forties.  Wherever they live, they weave.

Ellen translates as Lucy, who speaks only Navajo, describes watching her own mother weave until one day she raveled a Blue Bird flour sack for thread to try it herself.  It was Lucy’s grandmother who actually taught her the technique, just as Ellen learned from her grandmother, as is the Navajo way.

The weavings Lucy and Ellen create are considered the Three Turkey Ruins style of Burntwater.  Navajo weaving styles are regional, with Burntwater weavings known by the geometric patterns and border.  The intricate color palette they use has been passed down in the family for generations. Lucy makes her own natural dyes from native plants she gathers while tending her sheep.

About thirty years ago, Lucy’s weavings captured the attention of Steve Getzwiller, a well-known expert and dealer of Navajo weavings.  “I became their market,” he says, “I would commission specific designs initially, but in the last two decades I have encouraged them to do their own thing.”

Weaving with Churro wool as their ancestors did, mother and daughter first set the warp and hang it to dry for about two weeks, which draws it up tight and removes any shrinkage.  Just before insetting the yarn, they finger-twist it to make it even tighter.  One piece can easily take several months to complete, but with dazzling results.  

“If you’re not knowledgeable about Navajo weaving,” Getzwiller continues, “your eye is going to tell you, ‘Hey” This Is beautiful!’  And if you do know something about Navajo textiles, you’re going to say, “Wow! I’ve never seen anything like this before!”

Oregon businessman Gary Beaudoin began collection their works ten years ago.  “It’s amazing how their art is quite pure,” he says, “The luxury of the isolation allows their creativity.  It’s the way they can transform an original abstract geometric design from their heads to the loom.”

He was so taken with their works he took pieces to the San Jose Museum of Quilts & Textiles (SJMQ&T) in California, certain he had the making of a worthy exhibit.  One look and the museum staff were convinced.  Museum curator Deborah Corsini describes the work as “just dynamic, electric kind of weaving.  It was the intricate, sophisticated designs that really caught our eye.”  The subsequent  SJMQ&T Exhibition, Navajo Weaving in the Present Tense: The Art of Lucy and Ellen Begay (February 16 – May 4, 2010), was a success with, efforts currently underway to tour it to other venues.

“To have their story told and their art expressed is an important thing to do,” says Beaudoin, “Navajo weaving is on its last knee and needs an infusion of interest.”

Homes Across America' - TV Episode - HGTV - 2004

Soon after Nizhoni Ranch Gallery opened it's Sonoita location, in the winter of 2004, we received a call from Homes Across America that they would like to feature our home and gallery in a series they were presenting. 

We were thrilled of course, and we immediately went into action, as we needed to replace a shag carpet in the great room before the shoot, and we only had 2 weeks to accomplish this!  We contacted David Perrino of the San Pedro Mesquite Company and he accepted the challenge. 

In the end, the floor and mantel - all made from beautiful mesquite wood - were installed and finished the night before the photo shoot. (talk about cutting it close!) We were very excited to present our home, gallery, Navajo weavings, new mesquite floor and mantel to the world!

The episode appeared on Homes Across America, HGTV,  December 20, 2004

Code Magazine - Steve Getzwiller and Hiroki Nakamura - 2012

The Coloradoan - Arizona's Cowboy and Indian Trail - January 2010

For ease of reading online……

ARIZONA’S COWBOY & INDIAN TRAIL

By Bob Willis for the Coloradoan

If you had visited southern Arizona back in the 1880s, you wouldn’t have found the place nearly as hospitable as it is today.

Restless Apaches, armed incursions from Mexico, the rough landscape and summer temperatures that exceeded 115 degrees made life rough around these parts.  Times have changed for the better, and if today you’d like to reenact a modern day version of Cowboys and Indian, this is the place to do it.

TUCSON

Tucson is Arizona’s second-largest city, although it entered the 21st century with a slight hesitance, being somewhat reluctant to shed its Old West Mexican heritage.  The Old Pueblo sits amidst a natural bowl filled with historic sites and attractions and surrounded by five mountain ranges.  It offers a great starting point for a southern Arizona Adventure that’s Chock full of culture, scenery, some bumpy, dirt roads, wilderness campsites, ghostly places and a Desert floor and beneath the ground make sure to put museum on your list as a must-visit.

SOUTH OF TUCSON

Due south of Tucson on U.S. Highway 19, don’t overlook the “White Dove of the Desert”.

San Xavier del bac Mission has the distinction of being the oldest Catholic church in America still serving its original congregation.  Founded in 1692 by Father Kino, it is now owned by the Tohono O’odham tribe.  Notice that the mission has but one complete tower.  The Legend has it that levies were not paid to the Spanish government until churches were completed.  As one version of the story goes, it was deliberately left unfinished thereby avoiding the tax.  This is a stunning place to visit and create some memorable photographic images.  Shoppers will enjoy native craft shops situated across from the mission.

Heading southeast from Tucson on US Highway 10, beyond Colossal Cave and the Saguaro National Park, you’ll find yourself in Benson.  Here, the Amerind Foundation museum houses an extensive private collection of Native American and western art, archeology, history and cultural exhibits.  Founded by Connecticut businessman in the 1930s, it has grown into a true desert oasis for lovers of arts, crafts and southwestern artifacts and is well worth a stop.

Nearby, a lesser-known point of interest is the sale gallery of Steve Getzwiller whose knowledge and support of Navajo weaving and history is legendary.  Getzwiller works closely with a number of the best northern Arizona Navajo weavers and has been instrumental in re-introducing the Churro wool that was once a mainstay of native weavers.  Most of the original Churro sheep were wiped out by Kit Carson in his raids in and around Canyon de Chelly.  The Getzwiller collection may be visited by appointment.

Eastbound on US Highway 10 is Willcox, which is most famous for Rex Allen.  It’s only natural that you’ll find the radio and film star’s Cowboy Museum located here along with the Willcox Cowboy Hall of Fame.  Historic Railroad Avenue is worth a stroll to see the recently renovated Southern Pacific Depot.  Southeast of town, visit the old Willcox Cemetery where you’ll find the grave of Warren Earp, and brother Wyatt.

Heading south from Willcox, the upgraded road is not named but you’ll find a sign indicating that you’r heading toward the Cochise Stronghold in the Coronado National Forest.  This is spectacular but forbidding land of box canyons, washes, hard trails, cliffs, spires and natural rock fortresses that makes it easy to understand why the legendary Chiricahua Apache chief used these hills for a safe haven.

When he died in 1874, native legend has it that is body in full regalia, his horse, rifle and dog, were dropped into a tight canyon that was kept secret.  Perhaps you’ll feel his spirit as you camp at the Stronghold.  It’s a rugged primitive site with not facilities, so take all the necessary precautions when you visit.

From the camping area, stretch your legs on the rugged three-mile hike to the vista that overlooks the entire region.  As you  hike along, be on the lookout for petroglyphs left behind by early natives and keep a close watch for Apache warriors behind the rock formations and atop the craggy pinnacles.

TOMBSTONE

In 1878/, Ed Schieffelin discovered silver in some of the region’s roughest Apache territory.  He was advised by his fellow prospectors and friends, “The only thing you’ll find out in that place is your own tombstone.”  So, Tombstone it became and was soon home to about 10,000 miners and camp followers.  Two years later when John Clum published his first newspaper in the town, the masthead read the Tombstone Epitaph.  His logic was simply that any town named Tombstone had to have an interesting epitaph.  Over the last 122 years, the Epitaph has lived up to the promise of being interesting.

Some years back while scanning the Epitaph, a classified ad caught my eye. “DOG- German Shepherd. Housebroken. Free to a good home. Will eat anything.  Especially fond of children!”  The classified inspired about a dozen or so good-natured reader (myself included) to offer their children so the dog wouldn’t go hungry.  The letters to the editor column continued the high-spirited fun for a least a month.

The “Town Too Tough To Die” has certainly proved Any Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame wrong since Tombstone’s 20 or 25 seconds of fame has lasted nearly 120 years.  More silver has been extracted from the pockets and purses of tourists than was ever taken from the mines below the city.  Today, it’s home to about 1,500 residents’, down about 90 % from the early 1880s.  The famed Crystal Palace Saloon at Allen and Fifth streets was a favorite watering hole for the debonair Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, Doc, Holiday and Johnny Ringo.  While they were tossing down a shot or two, or enjoying a  hot, game of faro, Lillian Russell and Eddie Foy were among the entertaining across the street at the bawdy Birdcage Theater.  Today, the Birdcage is a museum.  You might be challenged to find all 140 bullet holes in the walls and ceilings resulting from more than a dozen gunfights that were pretty much regularly scheduled events during the town’s heyday.

A few streets away at the Tombstone Courthouse State Historic Park, you’ll find a building full of artifacts and recreated rooms, including a sturdy three-rope gallows in the back courtyard.  Incidentally, that courthouse was constructed in 1882 for a grand total of $43,000.

Boo hill Cemetery lies on a hill outside of town and is home to about 250 folks who fought for their rest.  Some are famous but most were never known and long forgotten. There’s a few soiled doves buried here, some prospectors who contracted rapid consumption, some who contracted rapid lead poisoning, and even one or two who were hanged by mistake.

Western Art Collector Magazine - Lessons on the Loom - August 2011

For ease of reading online……

Lessons on the Loom

Kathy Marianito is an artist of strong fiber

By Susan Sorg

AUGUST 2011: Navajo weavers share this trait: creating beautiful things with their hands.  You can marvel at complexities of design or richness of color, but it’s not until you learn that life beyond the loom that you truly appreciate the work behind the work.

Such is the case with master weaver Kathy Marianito.  In 2010 she picked up more awards at the Gallup Inter-Tribal All Indian Ceremonial, including a First Place and Best of Category.  At the Indian Market, her work will be sought-after by collectors preferring “wearable art”, as she is the only Navajo weaver using silk and alpaca besides traditional Churro yarn.

This bubbly, creative, and caring woman who is 70-something years young is sometimes as complicated as some of her weavings.. or as innovative, strong, and yet as simple, because all those adjectives apply.  For the Navajos weaving is an inherited occupation.  Traditionally little girls learn it from their grandmothers, or in Kathy’s case, from her own mother, who learned it from generations before.  Kathy Marianito is a true descendant of master weavers.

Steve Getzwiller, considered one of the premier experts and dealers of Navajo weavings, knows very well of Kathy’s heritage. “Certainly her lineage doesn’t come any better, because her great-great-grandmother Juanita was considered one of the finest blanket weavers in the 1870s and 1880s.  Juanita’s husband, Manuelito, was one of the most prominent leaders of the Navajo people.”  It was Manuelito, Kathy’s great-great-grandfather, who was instrumental in negotiating the Navajos release from Fort Sumner and Bosque Redondo in 1868, returning to their homeland, the only displaced tribe allowed back on their true native soil.

Kathy grew up hearing about her famous ancestor, as well as tales of “The Long Walk,” The excruciating walk to exile, and then their triumphant return.  Growing up on the reservation in New Mexico, she also watched her mother weave.  “When I was really young, maybe 8 or 9, I stole her yarn.  I would put it on the fence and would ‘weave’ it there, until my grandfather found out and told my mother.”

Her mother finally taught Kathy how to set up a real loom and weave…lessons which at first did not come easy to the rather headstrong little girl.  “When I really started, it was difficult.  She told me to put it up on my own, and that was rough, but she just kept telling me to do this and that, and fix this and that… ‘You have to learn it, so you know next time to do it better.’”

She apparently listened well, because her weavings started to come quickly.

“I used to make six of them in the summertime, and I used to take them to the trading post and buy my shoes, my clothes, that I needed to take back to school.  When I go to boarding school, we don’t come home for two year!”

Kathy never forgot her mother’s words about how these lessons on the loom would stay with her, so she would always have her own income.  “I never forgot how to weave or to do things my own! My very own hands, my designs… that’s how I got started.”

There were other lessons too, such as how to wash the sheep's wool, and then dry and card it, spinning and dying it different colors using plants such as sage for green, sunflowers for yellow or green tumbleweeds for black wool.  “We tried everything,” she says with a laugh.

When she was 15, however, lessons such as these came to an abrupt end.  That’s when she was told she was about to be married to a man she didn’t really know.  “That was tradition,” she says.  “But I don’t want to get married at 15 years old.. got a lot of dreams and all that.. didn’t have time to hand around and be a wife.  So.. I took off.

The teanager rode her horse to the trading post, taking with her some clothes and what money she had, and boarded a bus for Salt Lake City.  And so her new life began, learning firsthand about the world outside the reservation, educating herself and becoming a seamstress.  She moved to California and had her own apartment, with only occasional visits home. “I’d come back to the reservation, but it was lonely because I was a city girl now!”

Years later, during one of those visits, her mother told her she missed her and asked her to stay.  Kathy did, but returned to the reservation with purpose.  “I got a job as a health representative.  I used to visit homes and take care of people in the community, working with the doctors, the policemen, the lawyers, and I’d talk to the people.  I’d almost lost my language, but that’s how it started.  Then I went back to weaving, to help my mother and to finish her weavings.”

Part of her job was working with alcoholics going through detox and she discovered helping people learn different crafts also helped them learn different habits.  “I taught grandmothers, young girls… I’d teach them to sew, quilt, how to design them, even how to make tools for weaving.”

Along the way Kathy met Lorenzo Marianito, a Navajo medicine man who also came from a family of weavers.  This time she did not run away, and their marriage has remained strong, like her weavings.  Her eyes still sparkle when she looks at them, and there’s a definite twinkle when she watches her grandson Sean, who often is by her side as she weaves.

Steve Getzwiller came into her life in 1998, after hearing about Kathy’s weaving skills.  That’s when she was making rugs.  Not anymore.  Since then the two have continued to raise Navajo weaving to the next level, being the first to use silk as a fiber in traditional designs, and the only ones incorporating alpaca into “wearable art.”

There are very few weavers who understand how to weave a blanket and not a rug.” Says Getzwiller.  “A rug would not be comfortable when worn, while a blanket will drape and fit your form.  It has to do with how she warps her loom and how she packs it, and that sort of thing,” he explains.

Getzwiller calls their work together true collaboration.  “How it really works,” he said with a laugh,
“is I tell her what I want, and then she does what she wants!”

He’s the first to tell you, though, that the results are timeless.  “Her work is a major departure from contemporary Navajo weaving.  I hate to use the term ‘revival’ but it’s about bringing some of the best things that came before back to the forefront.”

As Kathy excels in new forms of her art, the traditions grow stronger.  She recalls when she was little, listening wide-eyed to elderly women relatives, the nieces of Manuelito.  “Their stories about ‘The long Walk” …they never forgot the walk,” she says.  “And I used to think, “What a wonderful way to be so strong, to walk that far and come back.”

It’s not just the mechanics, but the passion from within which truly sets an artist apart.  Such is the way with Kathy Marianito, who is strong enough to walk so far and still come back to her roots.

Los Angeles Times - Design Woven Into the Western Spirit - Jan 2004

DESIGN WOVEN INTO THE WESTERN SPIRIT

Prices of Navajo rugs have soared in recent years, but to collectors, the value isn’t measured in dollars.

 By Janet Eastman, Times Staff Writer : Los Angeles Times

Los Angeles, CA – January 22, 2004: Entertainment lawyer Lawrence Rose spends his days fighting for his clients, but at night he retreats home to be watched over by nine dancing Yei-be-cheis. The figures, woven into a Navajo rug in the entryway, represent the protective grandparents of Native American gods.

“There’s a calming quality about the Southwest style and a spirit to Navajo rugs,” says Rose from his Adobe Revival house, which overlooks Beverly Hills. “People in my business need a peaceful place to inhabit, a vacation house in the city. Once I’m here, I can forget what happens outside.”

That’s the power of Navajo rugs, a 300-year-old art form inspired by nature and the supernatural, and created one line at a time by weavers using upright looms.

With the rugs’ ordered patterns of zigzags, arrows and hooks in burnt red, cream and black, they capture attention in every home, from rough-hewn cabins and Arts and Crafts bungalows to ranch styles and white-walled moderns. Ralph Lauren, Kevin Costner and Harrison Ford have Navajo rugs in their Great Plains estates, while the head of Design Within Reach, a contemporary furniture chain, displays his collection in a minimalist house outside Sonoma.

“People are interested in the rugs’ decorative qualities, aesthetic value and emotional connection to the life and traditions of a distinct and fascinating culture,” says David Roche, Sotheby’s specialist in American Indian art. “There’s an excitement to these textiles and a universal quality.”

Sales of new rugs have jumped about 15% a year since the Southwestern design boom in the 1980s, rug experts say. The price for a 4-by-6-foot new rug, which may take months to weave, starts at a few thousand dollars.

The value of old rugs has zoomed too. A diamond-patterned Navajo weaving from the 19th century sold to a private collector at a Sotheby’s auction for $401,000 three years ago, eight times more than the highest bidder paid for a comparable one sold a year before.

Heating up interest and making the rugs easier to find outside art galleries, museum gift shops, craft fairs and auctions are websites. Rose bought his rugs through http://www.navajorug.com , which is run by Steve Getzwiller, a leader in preserving traditional Navajo weaving. Getzwiller’s gallery is on his Nizhoni Ranch in Sonoita, Ariz., southeast of Tucson. Clients who can’t visit in person are e-mailed images of rugs. They select the ones they want delivered to their home, where they make their final decision.

Getzwiller works only with weavers on the Navajo reservation who use soft wool from Churro sheep that is then naturally dyed, a laborious process that hadn’t been used for a century until Getzwiller helped reintroduce it.

The Spanish brought herds of Churro sheep to the Southwest in the 1500s, and Navajos used the long, straight wool fibers to make tightly woven, water-resistant saddle and shoulder blankets prized by other Native Americans, Mexicans and U.S. traders. Larger blankets were later used as rugs.

Dyes for yarn were created by boiling plants and rocks. Secret recipes to make brownish reds from prickly pear cactus fruit, juniper root and red rock were passed on from mother to daughter. Some wool was left undyed to make creamy white, light brown, gray or black backgrounds. Black wool comes from a lamb’s first shearing, before the wool is bleached by the sun.

In the early 1900s, tourists hopped on trains headed to reservations across Utah, Arizona and New Mexico and took home rugs as souvenirs. To keep up with the demand, profit-minded trading post owners gave weavers synthetic dyes and commercially processed yarns that cut down on time and expense.

Today, Navajo rugs made the traditional way with hand-spun wool are valued more than quickly made imitations because they have a smoother texture and are heavier because of the lanolin left in the wool. Some of the finest rugs are considered tapestries because they have more than 80 threads per inch, compared with a good-quality rug with 30 threads per inch or a cheap knockoff with six per inch.

Well-made rugs lie flat without puckering, have straight edges and corners and, when folded, have a balanced pattern. They aren’t exactly uniform, however, because they’re not machine made. Some weavers even add imperfections. A break in the border could be a “spirit line,” a tiny line of yarn that is said to allow the spirit of the artisan or the rug to be free.

Over the years, regions on the Navajo reservation developed distinct styles. The Two Grey Hills area in New Mexico is known for its complex geometrical designs woven from undyed black, gray and brown wool. Rugs from Teec Nos Pos in Arizona have bold borders, and those from Ganado, Ariz., have red backgrounds.

Hanging in Rose’s master bath is a brown rug in the Teec Nos Pos style, with a black border holding arrows and bars outlined in white. The desert colors and symmetrical lines go well with a Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired leaded glass window, patterned brown-and-black tile and smooth, earth-toned walls.

The weaving on his entryway wall shows Yei-be-cheis performing a Night Way ceremony, in which illness is driven away over nine nights. Some believe rugs depicting sacred ceremonies shouldn’t be walked on. Rose has a practical reason for keeping his rugs off the floor: His four dogs “would ruin anything in two seconds.”

Rose’s rugs also are draped over furniture. There is one with a storm pattern design on a couch in the den, as well as a gray, blue and brown weaving on top of a dresser in the master bedroom.“I wish I had more places to put the rugs,” Rose says. “I appreciate the colors, design and craftsmanship, but there’s only so much space.”

Symbolic figures

The designs in Navajo rugs are sometimes simply for artistic expression, but many of them have meaning to Native American culture or to a specific region or artisan. A guide to some of the symbols:

Arrow: Movement of the sun or a direction.

Cross: Stars. With boxes, Spider Woman, a deity who taught Navajos weaving.

Diagonal lines: Feathers.

Hook: Borrowed from Asian design.

Sacred plants: Corn, tobacco, beans, squash.

Sand-painting designs: Inspired by dry paintings made of colored sand for healing ceremonies.

Storm pattern: Center box (the universe) connected by zigzagging lines (lightning bolts) to boxes representing mountains that guard the Navajo Nation – Blanca Peak (east), Mt. Taylor (south), the San Francisco Peaks (west) and Mt. Hesperus (north).

Terraced steps: Cloud or mountain.

Tree of Life: Birds (messengers) on a cornstalk (life) growing from a medicine basket (healing) to depict creation.

Triangles: Dynamism, vitality or fertility. With arrows, the Monster Slayer Twins, who used lightning bolts given by their father, the sun, to turn enemies into stone.

Whirling logs: Everything positive – the four seasons, four directions, four winds.

Yei rectangular figures facing forward: Sacred deities. Round heads are male, square heads female.

Yei-be-chei figures: Deities’ protective grandparents or human representatives, often in profile.