Emerging from the Archive Helen M. Post’s Photographs of Twentieth-Century Navajos

Emerging from the Archive

Helen M. Post’s Photographs of Twentieth-Century Navajos

BY CARLYLE CONSTANTINO

In a May 1940 article from the Saturday Evening Post, the renowned documentary photographer Margaret Bourke-White offered a candid review of As Long as the Grass Shall Grow. The volume is a compelling array of words and images that presents a specific view of Native American history. Besides its author, the anthropologist and writer Oliver La Farge, another name is featured on the cover: that of the photographer Helen M. Post (fig. 1). Of Post, Bourke-White declared, “Miss Post attains professional position with ease. . . . These [scenes] clearly demonstrate her ability to grasp the handling of light and shadow. As her work progresses she will undoubtedly widen her range to include a more precise selection of detail and character.” 1 Such acclaim of Post might warrant her place in academic discussions; however, the photographer has remained largely absent from any discourse on photography. Post created nearly 2,700 images during her lifetime, many of them of Native Americans, and provided photographs for another significant and sympathetic book about Native peoples, Ann Clark’s Brave against the Enemy: Tʻoka wan itkopʻip ohitike kin he—an impressive record. 2

Borrowing from Bourke-White, it is the “detail” and “character” of Post’s images—particularly her large collection of Navajo photographs— that deserve attention.

Helen Post’s photographs of Navajos did not play out in isolation. By the time Post took these images—traveling to and from the West from 1938 to 1942—other artists and documentarians had created a host of representations of Native Americans, many of them employing readily accessible clichés. The political environment also factored into Post’s Navajo photography, for she was associated with prominent contemporary reformers. In addition to collaborating with La Farge, Post worked for the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) and its commissioner, John Collier Sr., and her Navajo images reflect the ideals of Collier and La Farge. 3 The relationship of Collier and the BIA to the Navajo people was hardly uncomplicated, and Post’s work was, itself, not without flaws. Still, with all that, the portraits she created of Navajos challenge preexisting visual representations of Navajos and offer a different kind of record.

Figure 1. Trude Fleischmann (1895–1990), Helen Post Sorts Indian Prints, circa 1940, gelatin silver print. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.50.1475. © Estate of Trude Fleischmann.

The sensitivity Post granted her subjects contrasts with other images of the Navajo, particularly those produced by her contemporary, Laura Gilpin. Post’s contribution lay in her ability to humanize her sitters by emphasizing vulnerability. In this manner she is comparable to Native American photographers, such as the Kiowa photographer Horace Poolaw. Post assumed her position as outsider with relative ease, as is manifested in her remarkably personal images of a people who had a difficult experience with the United States government and those associated with it. 4

Post’s skill as a photographer developed prior to her first travels to the West in the late 1930s. It was during her upbringing in New Jersey that she first experimented with the camera. 5 In the early 1920s, Post left the United States and traveled to Europe, ending up in Vienna where she lived off and on for several years. Artist friends influenced Post’s style tremendously and particularly her approach to portraiture. Post wrote about her attempts to manipulate lighting as well as the development process in her personal journal, indicating that she enjoyed the overall routine. Prior to Europe, Post did not adhere to any specific aesthetic. She did, however, admire Pictorialism, the hazy, dream-like style promoted by her mentor, Trude Fleischmann. Fleischmann, an Austrian-born photographer, was arguably the most influential person in Post’s life during the years in Vienna. 6

Following several years in Europe, which included sporadic travels with her sister Marion, Post returned to the United States in the late 1920s. 7 It was in New York where she met her husband, Rudolf Modley, a Jewish-Austrian refugee. Post and Modley traveled in the same political and social circles, sharing intellectual and artistic interests as well as a penchant for liberal thinking. Similarly, they were both passionate about the arts and supported many of the New Deal programs initiated during the time. 8

Post made her initial venture to the American West with her husband sometime around 1936 or 1938. 9 Business obligations required Modley to travel west on a somewhat regular basis; it was on one of those trips that Post joined him. 10 Modley worked as a surveyor for the Soil Conservation Service (SCS), a product of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, and the nature of Modley’s work necessitated that he inspect the terrain in the Southwest throughout the year. 11 One of his assignments included compiling educational texts regarding erosion and conservation practices on reservation land. While her husband traveled across the country as an SCS employee, Post took her first photographs of Navajos in the summer of 1938, returning to the reservation often between 1938 and 1942. 12

By 1940 Post had begun working for the Bureau of Indian Affairs. 13 Additionally, she received an invitation that year to provide images for Oliver La Farge’s As Long as the Grass Shall Grow. 14 The text was commissioned by the educational branch of the Office of Indian Affairs, later renamed the Bureau of Indian Affairs. 15 La Farge became aware of Post’s photographs through John Collier Sr., then commissioner of the BIA. 16 La Farge’s connection with Post proved to be a pivotal element of her professional pursuits, as was her connection with the BIA.

Originally formed in 1824, the BIA sought to manage the relationship between the federal government and Native American tribes and was itself a player in that long relationship. One of the most damaging acts in relation to Native American rights was the Dawes Severalty Act of 1887, which stipulated that individual Natives could receive plots of land in exchange for U.S. citizenship. The outcome, however, benefitted Euro-Americans, as they swindled Native Americans out of their land while also subjecting them to destabilizing educational programs.

An apparent end to this era came with FDR’s election in 1933, the appointment of Collier that same year, and the adoption of a new approach to Native policies. Perhaps the most crucial changes occurred with the passage of the Indian Reorganization Act (IRA) of 1934, which attempted to return Native Americans to a communal living system. 17 Ultimately, the IRA succeeded in fulfilling some of Collier’s goals but failed with others. While it protected Native land and provided educational resources, some tribes, along with politicians and other government officials, favored assimilation. In describing the IRA, the historian Colin Calloway has remarked: “In some ways the Indian New Deal was not new, but rather another attempt by non-Indians to do what they regarded as the right thing for Indians.” 18

Collier’s infatuation with the Navajo did not waver during his lifetime; however, some of Collier’s associates suggested his acute focus on assisting Native peoples was a hindrance to them, rather than a benefit. Navajos specifically suffered because of the livestock reduction program that began in 1933 and was supported by Collier. He believed that reducing livestock on the reservation would prevent further degradation of overgrazed land but failed to realize the deep significance of sheep to Navajo culture and livelihood. The sale and slaughter of livestock caused financial, social, and emotional trauma for many Navajos. Although Collier persisted in his goals to better circumstances for Native Americans, the Navajo—along with many other tribes—generally opposed the commissioner’s reform efforts due to his handling of the reduction. 19 It was in this environment and for this agency that Helen Post worked as she photographed the Navajo people (fig. 2).

Many other factors complicated Post’s position as a white woman photographing Navajos, including how Euro-Americans had long represented Native Americans in art and the power dynamics of Native–white interactions. Yet, despite missteps, Post apparently approached Navajos with respect and treated them as individuals, a practice that resulted in poignant, unconventional images. It is imperative to situate Post’s work against the backdrop of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when a number of damaging ideas framed the depiction of Native Americans. Existing stereotypes promoted by literature and the media presented Native Americans as naïve and as cultural oddities, tropes that still have footing in twenty-first century culture. Photographers portrayed Navajos, specifically, as extensions of their physical environment, suggesting they were merely props to beautify the landscape or add visual interest. 20 White society, moreover, generally believed that Native Americans should be photographed in the name of preserving their culture. However, the medium proved controversial. Photographs could expose the deeply personal, but they could also foster misunderstanding and reinforce clichés. 21

Figure 2. Helen Post (1907–1979), C. C. C. Navajo, circa 1936–1942, gelatin silver print. Helen Post spent some of her time between 1938 and 1942 photographing workers in the Indian Division of the Civilian Conservation Corps. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.51.17. © Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

Given all of this, individual photographers still must be considered on their own merits, and the evidence suggests that Post made thoughtful preparations before photography sessions and wanted to understand her sitters as people. Hoping to eliminate possible feelings of tension and distrust, she composed and sent letters of introduction to Navajos prior to photographing them, even though this was not a common practice. 22 Her attitude and approach differed somewhat from other BIA photographers, whose methods ranged from unconventional to adverse. The BIA commissioned several photographers—including Charlie Wunder, Lawrence Kafer, and Peter Mygatt—along with Post. A few of them ignored tribal leaders and photographed sacred ceremonies; others forcefully inserted themselves into family homes and events without regard for the personal wishes of Navajos. 23 On the other hand, the anthropologist James Faris reports that Post used some less-than-forthcoming techniques, such as “the old trick of using a loud shutter-cock” seconds before taking the real photograph. 24 Yet, altogether, the personal warmth of Post’s Navajo images indicates that she generally attempted to consider the demands of her sitters and heeded them.

The significance of Post’s Navajo photographs comes, in part, from the range of individuals she photographed. Her images portray Native peoples at different stages of life: children, elders, young mothers, and middle-aged men, among others. Post’s photographs depict Navajos busy in activity as well as in thoughtful contemplation, providing a broad snapshot of life on the reservation. The range of Post’s collection helps to create a familiarity not readily accessible in the works of other photographers.

Post’s use of translators on the reservation also signaled her eagerness to better communicate with potential sitters. She valued the opportunity to see them communicate in their own language, and they taught Post several words and phrases that she retained throughout her life, as is evident from her personal notebooks. 25 Likewise, she abstained from wearing a straw hat and slacks while on the reservation, both items considered appropriate solely for white men to wear. Post’s original sitters welcomed her into their homes for years thereafter, not unlike the Native peoples who knew and collaborated with the photographer Laura Gilpin. 26 In a field notebook, Post reflected on the kindness and hospitality of her hosts. 27 The friendships Post developed while photographing during these first few months in the West proved indispensable in later trips, reinforcing her connection to the West. 28

One of the major projects Post undertook during this period was illustrating As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, which the BIA distributed. As commissioner of the BIA, Collier had assembled a team of sociologists and anthropologists to gather statistical information on the reservations in order to gauge tribal wellbeing. The compiled information was used with the intention to better tribal welfare, specifically food rationing, medical resources, and employment opportunities. One of several social scientists he collaborated with on this venture was Oliver La Farge, who shared, with Post, an interest in tribal culture. 29

A social anthropologist, La Farge had traveled to Central America and the American Southwest as a graduate student at Harvard, completing fieldwork that included documenting ceremonial events and artistic practices. 30 La Farge increased his social and political involvement in the region following his move to New Mexico in the early 1930s, more direct exposure to southwestern tribes, and his appointment in 1930 to the Eastern Association of Indian Affairs as a member of its board of directors. The association, later renamed the Association of American Indians Affairs, was established for the purpose of improving the welfare of those living on reservations across the United States, as well as promoting Native arts and crafts. 31

Realizing that they shared an interest in Native issues, Collier and La Farge joined efforts to dismantle prevailing assimilationist attitudes. 32 They became closely associated in 1934 following the passage of the Indian Reorganization Act. Collier requested that La Farge temporarily live on the Hopi reservation in order to assist the members in establishing tribal government. La Farge accepted the position as an opportunity to apply his reformist training firsthand. The Hopi, like the Navajo, were wary of government involvement due to past grievances. 33 His time spent among the Hopi and the years afterward proved pivotal to his publication of As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, for which Post provided the photographs.

La Farge begins As Long as the Grass Shall Grow with a timeline of Native history that touches on some of the crimes committed against Native Americans—including the “de-Indianization” that resulted from the Dawes Act—and culminates in a plea for tribal independence. 34 La Farge asserts throughout the book that Native Americans and their rich heritage increased the quality of society as a whole; his position as an advocate of the Indian New Deal and as an opponent of the Dawes Act is clear, as is his tone of respect and sympathy.

La Farge’s book was a formidable addition to the discourse on twentieth-century Native Americans. There are striking similarities between La Farge’s words and Post’s attitude towards Native peoples, as evident from her notebooks as well as a radio interview with Alma Kitchell in 1940. In an early passage of As Long as the

Grass Shall Grow, the anthropologist reflects on his experiences with Native daily life: “When I look in my own memory for the essence of what I have so loved in Indian camps, the summation of it, I find a tricky rhythm tapped out on a drum, a clear voice singing, and the sound of laughter.” 35 La Farge’s favorable view of Native peoples, albeit romantically phrased, fostered his connection to Helen Post.

Like La Farge, Post had spent time in Indian homes and saw in them hospitality, admiration, and humor; just so, her images in the book engender positive sentiments toward Native Americans. A wide variety of Post’s photographs are used in La Farge’s book to portray what he believed were neglected aspects of Native life, such as metalworking, cattle ranching, and weaving. It is likely that Post and La Farge selected the images together considering she helped him in choosing captions, yet the extent of her involvement remains unclear. In describing the writing process, Post recorded how she “paced up and down in his [La Farge’s] workroom, verbally creating text to go with the photos.” 36 Clearly she made a substantial contribution to the work as a whole: of the more than 100 photographs in As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, only four are attributed to someone other than Helen Post.

As is evident from the first few pages of the book, La Farge used Post’s photographs of various Native peoples throughout the United States. As Long as the Grass Shall Grow begins with several paragraphs about the history of Native Americans, hearkening back to the time when Native peoples first occupied the area now known as North America. 37 Post’s photographs of desert landscape and grazing cattle accompany these first paragraphs, the images striking for their simplicity and technical sophistication. Farther along in the text, La Farge discusses how whites damaged the Native way of life by taking their lands and forcing their children into boarding schools, emphasizing the isolation and hardships youth experienced in the schools. As the book proceeds, however, the tone shifts from despair to hope, as La Farge affirms the significance of understanding and accepting Native traditions in modern society—a tone that, again, makes clear La Farge’s association with Collier and the IRA. 38 Post’s black-and-white photographs enhance the dialogue that La Farge sets up in As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, and yet they stand as important visual documents on their own.

Since the educational branch of the BIA published La Farge’s book, copies were sent to schools throughout the country in which Native children were exclusively taught. Paul L. Fickinger, associate director of education for the BIA at the time, circulated a generic letter to nearly three hundred boarding and day schools in the United States, asking the respective principals and teachers to “please see to it that these books are recorded as an accession to the library just as you would any other book.” 39 Two of those schools were in Utah: Uintah Boarding and Day School in Whiterocks and Goshute Day School in Ibapah. Located on either side of the state— Whiterocks in Eastern Utah and Ibapah near the western border—the schools both received multiple copies of As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, despite their relatively few numbers of students. 40 This suggests that Fickinger, and the BIA in extension, deemed La Farge’s text valuable for placement in as many Native schools throughout the country as possible, regardless of size. Although there is no specific reference to what the students thought of the book, Post wrote a letter to Harold Ickes expressing her wish that the Native peoples in her photographs would know her appreciation for their generosity. She remarked how she “feels she owes a great debt of thanks to the many many Indians who have helped to make the book what it is. Is there any way to get this message to those who should hear it? I hope so.” 41

Like Collier and La Farge, Post envisioned a society that embraced Native peoples and their traditions. However, it is also important to consider her collection apart from her male colleagues. It is in that separate space that Post’s photographic contribution, to both the BIA and the field of photography generally, becomes readily apparent. This is manifested in the sensitive manner in which she portrays her sitters, as seen in the portrait [Navajo woman in wearing blanket] (fig. 3). Post attempts to depict each subject as a vulnerable, complicated human being apart from the familiar labels of “Native American,” “Navajo,” or “other.” 42 Her sitters attract the viewer’s gaze with their direct eye contact and upright postures, establishing connection on an emotional level. It is a shared experience: photographer, subject, and viewer observe one another in the same moment.

Figure 3. Helen Post (1907–1979), [Navajo woman in wearing blanket], circa 1936–1942, gelatin silver print. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.50.1137. © Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

Post’s images are not unique in their ability to elicit emotion. They are unusual, however, in that her depictions of American Indians vary from traditional representations that emphasized stereotypes rather than dismantled them. Arguably the most well-known photographer of Native Americans was Edward S. Curtis, the man who historically dominated the market in creating types of Native representations. Curtis spent a significant amount of time on the Navajo and other reservations at the turn of the twentieth century, seeking to gather lasting images of—what he believed to be—a “vanishing race” that could be looked upon in later years. He traveled extensively throughout the United States, stopping to photograph as many tribes as he could with the purpose of recording as much as possible. He, perhaps unintentionally, reentrenched tropes like the noble savage, romantic warrior, and defeated hero. 43

Curtis’s prints are striking, oftentimes bearing softened edges, and could easily be described as aesthetically beautiful (fig. 4). It remains, however, that the majority of Curtis’s images present a type, intentional or not. In order to portray supposedly accurate depictions of Native Americans, Curtis would occasionally outfit his sitters in traditional clothing or ceremonial garb that belonged to disparate tribes. The individuals in his photographs are generally characterized by somber expressions and unyielding stances. While Curtis’s collection is comprehensive, it is a somewhat flawed representation of Native peoples, for it fails to present an active dialogue between subject and photographer. This was likely not Curtis’s goal, as he was focused on compiling information as quickly as possible, subsequently resulting in stoic faces and detached figures. Regardless, the lack of feeling leaves one wanting more. 44

A cursory glance at Post’s photographic collection reveals character and personality distinguishable from Curtis’s work, as well as that of her contemporaries. To better understand her angle, it is necessary to place her next to a prolific twentieth-century photographer who adopted elements of Curtis’s style: Laura Gilpin.

Gilpin compiled a vast collection of images that contrast with those being created by Post at roughly the same time. 45 Gilpin began photographing the Southwest in the early 1920s, eventually making her way to the Navajo reservation by the 1930s. 46 An in-depth study of Gilpin’s work reveals a slightly more detached relationship between sitter and photographer. Instead of focusing on the individual, she concentrated on technical elements, such as lighting, composition, and depth. This is not to suggest that Gilpin’s experience among Native peoples was any less genuine than Post’s. Gilpin likewise formed close associations with Navajos and maintained correspondence with them throughout her life. Yet her purpose in photographing differed significantly from Post. Her focus on design is evidence that her primary focal point was aesthetics, not necessarily portraying the emotional range of her sitters.

The key to Post and Gilpin’s compositional differences may lie in their personal financial situations: Gilpin sold her photographs to various individuals and institutions in order to make a living; Post did not or, at least, did not need to. 47 This might have been an incentive for Gilpin to create images she knew would receive a wider reception, like the earlier images by Curtis. 48 This difference in patronage is significant. Gilpin likely emphasized technique and form to appeal to a wider audience and thereby increase her chance for commissions. She showed a keen interest in marketing and selling her work throughout her lifetime, a testament to her ever-fluctuating financial situation. Unlike Post, Gilpin did not have the luxury of relying on a companion’s income. She was solely responsible for her livelihood. Post perhaps did not experience the same kind of financial pressure as Gilpin, as she was employed by one agency and thus could produce a wide range of images. Since Post could rely on her husband for additional income, she created photographs solely for the BIA during this period.

Figure 4. Edward S. Curtis, Headand-shoulders portrait of Navajo woman, facing front, circa 1904, photographic print. This portrait shows both the aesthetic beauty of Edward S. Curtis’s style and his penchant for stoic, stereotyped portrayals of Native Americans. Courtesy Library of Congress, LC- USZ62–103498.

The financial pressure Gilpin felt possibly surfaced during her earliest days as a photographer. As a student on the East Coast, Gilpin studied with a cohort of interesting and inspiring individuals. Her teachers specifically seemed to

stress the importance of making art that was aesthetically pleasing but also commercially viable. 49 This, combined with Gilpin’s upbringing in a family that experienced their share of hardships, likely spurred her to place marketability near or at the same level as design. The Gilpins’ business ventures never managed to flourish, thus putting strain on the close-knit family. Throughout her life, Gilpin’s mother urged her to pursue artistic interests, while conversely, her father provided constant reminders of their financial struggles. This pendulum of emotions likely motivated the photographer to succeed artistically and financially, as is apparent from her imposing body of work. 50

Gilpin’s photograph of the Navajo medicine man (fig. 5) embodies technical sophistication, bearing similarities to the earlier images by Curtis. The strategically draped blanket perfectly frames the sitter’s face. The close proximity of subject to photographer eliminates the chance to do little more than confront the man’s gaze. Edges have been softened and tones imbued with extra warmth to attract the eye. A beautifully composed piece, the composition suggests a sense of rigidity. The viewer is drawn to the sitter’s eyes; however, they seem to be void of emotion, emphasized by their glassy appearance. Thus the viewer is unable to gauge a sense of the man’s character.

Figure 5. Laura Gilpin (1891–1979), [Tsetah Begay, Navajo medicine man], 1932, gelatin silver print. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Bequest of the artist, P1979.128.704. © 1979 Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

It is important to note that both Gilpin and Post posed their sitters; however, there is a distinction between the two photographers. Gilpin provided blankets (see fig. 5) and other props to help her scenes seem more genuine. 51 Post did not outfit her subjects with extra accouterments, which is one reason why her

sitters appear in both traditional and more modern attire. A brief comparison of Laura Gilpin’s photographs in The Enduring Navaho and Post’s work in As Long as the Grass Shall Grow further illuminates the photographers’ differences. Gilpin’s subjects seem to be caught at a certain time and place, a romantic past. Post’s sitters, on the other hand, appear to be active participants within their respective environments.

The vulnerability of Post’s subjects is evident by their unguarded postures and poignant facial expressions, as seen in the portrait Mrs. Burnside, Pine Springs, Arizona (fig. 6). Mrs. Burnside looks up toward her left, holding her gaze with the lens and Post just beyond. Her glance is friendly, yet direct. The gentleness of her posture is matched by her strength and sense of self. She sits open to the viewer, yet she retains an enigmatic presence. Mrs. Burnside engages with the photographer, creating a visual dialogue that is both personal and warm.

Figure 6. Helen Post (1907–1979), Mrs. Burnside, Pine Springs, Arizona, circa 1936–1942, acetate negative. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, 1985.47.473. © Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

Figure 7. Laura Gilpin (1891–1979), Figure Study. Old Woman, 1938, nitrate negative. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Bequest of the artist, P1979.230.1189. © 1979 Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

While undeniably striking, Gilpin’s photographs share more similarities with Curtis’s prints than Post’s contemporaneous collection. The title of Figure Study. Old Woman (fig. 7), is evidence of Gilpin’s desire to balance design with figural representation. The figurine in the upper left corner, while not the central subject, complements the woman’s outward gaze. Although she is just off-center in the composition, the woman acts as the focal point. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that the woman’s face is slightly blurred. Whether intentional or not, the blurring adds a feeling of ambiguity, elucidating a complex dynamic between photographer and sitter. The image acts as a lovely contrast to Post’s photograph of Mrs. Burnside (fig. 6), taken around the same time.

A photograph similar to Mrs. Burnside is Post’s [Portrait of a Navajo man] (fig. 8). The subject sits on bent knees, hands relaxed yet assertive. His hands are positioned in a way that emphasizes the metal-worked cuffs on his wrists. The man is at once proud but also willing to submit—at least to the photographer. He looks straight ahead, locking eyes with the lens and, in extension, the viewer. His palpable confidence dispels any awkwardness; he appears to be at ease and unguarded. Post has created an environment in which the sitter embraces his vulnerability. Trust has been established. The emotional connection formed between observed and observer overrides trivial details.

The individuals in Post’s collection, like Mrs. Burnside and the kneeling man, portray types seldom seen in other photographic volumes of American Indians prior to the late 1930s. Post’s sitters contradict the characters that Curtis portrayed, which gained popularity during the late nineteenth century. 52 The United States government treated Native Americans as part of a vanishing race and consistently pressed them to assimilate; some cooperated, but most pushed back in opposition. 53 Post’s apparent interaction with her sitters, however, represented the kind of interplay that Collier hoped would be adopted by the general public. The photographer entered each creative space with a sensitive eye and appreciation for the subtle differences of those she photographed. She seems to have been both friend and confidante to many of her sitters.

Figure 8. Helen Post (1907–1979), [Portrait of Navajo man], ca. 1936–1942, gelatin silver print. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.50.872. © Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

Figure 9. [Women at Navajo fair]. Acetate negative, ca. 1936–1942. Helen M. Post, photographer. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.47.394. © 1985 Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

As such, Post’s work bears a closer likeness to that of Native American photographers, particularly the Kiowa photographer Horace Poolaw. 54 Working over a period of roughly forty years beginning in the mid-1920s, Poolaw’s record of a people in transition should be lauded. Few Native photographers have produced a collection as extensive in scope. One of Poolaw’s compositions, Three Young Kiowas, bears a close resemblance to some of Post’s photographs. Poolaw captures a seemingly candid moment that is as genial as it is genuine. There is a kind of amity between the photographer and his subjects. Poolaw’s preestablished position as insider allowed him to gain access to typically closed-off moments. Like Poolaw, Post evidently sought to develop a bond with her subjects.

Figure 10. Helen Post (1907–1979), [Portrait of female Navajo patient], circa 1936–1942, gelatin silver print. Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas, Gift of Peter Modley, P1985.50.852. © Amon Carter Museum of American Art.

This understanding is displayed in a scene by Post featuring several Navajo women (fig. 9), [Women at Navajo fair]. The sitters’ faces exhibit varying emotions. The woman nearest to the photographer seems curious and perhaps a little cautious about the encounter. Perhaps she is looking at Post just beyond the camera, wondering this woman’s purpose in being there. The Navajo woman’s inquisitive glance balances the jovial faces of the women sitting behind her. Most central in the composition is a woman smiling unabashedly ahead. There is a sense of familiarity in the scene. Post, perhaps unknowingly, embraced the style forged by Poolaw and other Native photographers: pared down accessories, uncluttered frame, and simple design.

An image that represents this style beautifully, [Portrait of female Navajo patient], also provides a fitting capstone to Post’s Navajo work (fig. 10). As BIA commissioner, Collier sought to improve the health conditions on the Navajo reservation. After his appointment in 1933, he began construction on several hospitals and other medical facilities. Additionally, due to funding provided by the New Deal he was able to hire nurses and doctors to work in the facilities on the Navajo and other reservations in the Southwest. 55 In Post’s remarkably pared down portrait, a female Navajo medical patient gazes intensely out toward the viewer. The woman is likely a patient in one of the newly built hospitals. The most interesting aspect of the image is that despite the contrast between the subject’s warmth and the austerity of her surroundings, Post humanizes her and emphasizes her apparent self-assurance.

Her vitality is compelling. The mystery surrounding the patient’s persona heightens the tension in the scene. She is a Navajo woman who also happens to be outfitted in modern attire. There is no known information about the woman, but she is striking. It is interesting that Post photographed her in a hospital setting. On the Navajo reservation medicine men and other such healers would normally have been brought to family homes in the case of illness. 56 The sterile, industrial environment in Post’s portrait only affirms the influence of outside forces that appeared in the first decades of the twentieth century.

Immeasurable complexities define the situation; the title signals she is Navajo, but the photograph contains none of the markers (looms, silver, red rock landscapes) that contemporary viewers would have associated with Navajo identity. Her identity is based on the brief but tender moment between photographer and subject. Post exhibits sensitivity to the sitter that overpowers other features. The bare composition forces the viewer to interact with the woman, thus participating in the dialogue. This Navajo patient is the figurative culmination of Post’s experience among Native Americans. Post photographed individuals in both traditional and modern dress, reaffirming the notion that she was trying to document everyday life, rather than life how she wished it would be. Her images are evocative and powerful, reaffirming Post’s desire to understand all types of peoples.

Helen Post began documenting Navajos in 1938 and ended this effort in or around 1942. While her exact reason remains unclear, Post left the Southwest and her employment with the BIA when her husband stopped working for the CCC in the early 1940s. From that point on, Post devoted her time solely to photographing her family and close friends. She moved to Connecticut with her family and resided there for the rest of her life. Although Post intended to return to the Southwest again, hoping to visit with the people she had met, the plan never came to fruition. 57

Years earlier, Post’s employment with the BIA and specifically her association with John Collier Sr. provided her with the opportunity to travel extensively to the reservation and create an impressive body of work. Post’s photographs provide insight into the daily life of her subjects, offering an intriguing perspective about Navajos. Post sympathized with both Collier and Oliver La Farge and shared similarly sympathetic beliefs concerning the Navajos, which is evident in her impressive photographic collection. This dynamic between her and the two reformers directly influenced Post’s images; while not a social crusader on behalf of the Navajo—like both Collier and La Farge—Post undoubtedly shared similar feelings. Her tender depictions of the Navajo so suggest.

Post’s interest in and appreciation of her sitters is manifest in the humanity she grants them in her photographs. She illuminated the emotionality of her sitters, in contrast to photographers like Gilpin who focused primarily on aestheticizing Navajos. Post’s collection is a refreshing addition to dialogue on twentieth-century Navajos—and Native Americans generally—and should be used to counteract the conventional myths and clichés used to represent this people. To echo Margaret Bourke-White’s comments from the Saturday Evening Post, Post widened her range to enhance detail, but more importantly, character. 58

Web Extra

Stop by history.utah.gov for more about Helen M. Post and her photography.

Notes

1 Margaret Bourke-White and Erskine Caldwell, “The American Indian: 1940,” Saturday Evening Post, May 11, 1940.

2 Handwritten notes, box 1, fd. 2, Helen Post Papers, A2006.211, Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas; Ann Nolan Clark, Brave Against the Enemy: T’oka wan itkok’ip ohitike kin he (Lawrence, KS: Haskell Institute, 1944), 5–35. Clark incorporates Post’s images solely as visuals in Brave Against the Enemy; she does not expound on their relation to the text, although their relevance is meant to be apparent. Post’s photographs do correspond to Clark’s chapter themes. Post formed the captions for The Enemy Gods, another of La Farge’s works, from the text. Gods centers on the story of a young Navajo boy’s attempt to assimilate into white culture and his eventual demise after returning to the reservation. Based off this information it seems that Post adapted text for the captions from another source rather than creating her own. Oliver La Farge, The Enemy Gods (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1937).

3 Peter Modley, “A Short Interpretive Biography of Helen Post, Photographer,” Helen Post Papers; Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. Post photographed on various Native American reservations, such as South Dakota’s Pine Ridge Reservation and several in upstate New York. While she spent a significant amount of time among Navajos, it would be a disservice to not mention her work with the Crow, Salish, Sioux, and other tribes. Regarding John Collier Sr., I know of only two pieces of correspondence in which Collier directly mentions Post. In one, Collier gives his approval of Post in a commission to photograph New York Indians. The other is an undated, unaddressed letter in which Collier glowingly discusses Post’s work among the Sioux Indians.

4 Kenneth R. Philp, John Collier’s Crusade for Indian Reform, 1920–1954 (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1977), 127.

5 Paul Hendrickson, Looking for the Light: The Hidden Life and Art of Marion Post Wolcott (New York: Knopf, 1992), 6–7. Post and her sister Marion visited a photography studio in East Orange, New Jersey, on at least one occasion. It was there that they first handled “black boxes,” and this was likely the initial source of Post’s interest in the craft.

6 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. In her notes, Post discusses her artistic circle in Vienna, although she does not list any names. She also writes about learning German, immersing herself in the local culture.

7 Hendrickson, Looking for the Light, 11–15. Marion Post Wolcott worked for the Farm Security Administration during the 1930s and 1940s—the same time her sister, Helen, was photographing in the West. Marion, unlike Helen, has since received considerable recognition for her post–Depression era images.

8 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers.

9 “Alma Kitchell’s Brief Case, February 17, 1941,” and “Notes on Projects, Caption material, Radio Transcript, Letters of Introduction, and Autobiographical Notes,” box 1, Helen Post Papers. In 1941 Post told Alma Kitchell, on her WJZ radio show Alma Kitchell’s Brief Case, that she made her first trip to the West during the summer of 1938. However, Post’s digitized collection at the Amon Carter Museum of American Art lists the beginning date of her record as “1936.” Likewise, a short biography written by Post’s son, Peter Modley, also gives 1936 as the first year. It appears that no photograph included in the Amon Carter collection was taken before 1938, so I will accept Post’s comment in the radio interview that she first traveled to the reservations in 1938.

10 Modley, “A Short Biography,” 3.

11 Jennifer McLerran, A New Deal for Native Art: Indian Arts and Federal Policy (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2009), 106–15. The Soil Conservation Service (SCS) was in charge of the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC). The CCC operated roughly from 1933 to 1942; it is interesting that Post’s Native American project ends in 1942—the latest date in her collection. It is possible that Post stopped photographing Navajos in conjunction with the end of her husband’s SCS employment in 1942.

12 Modley, “A Short Biography,” 3; Handwritten Notes, Helen Post Papers; Post, “Alma Kitchell’s Brief Case.”

13 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. A letter written by John Collier to Indian Office employees and officials directly naming Post is dated “6/deb/20/40.” This is the only specific date given regarding Post’s commencement at the BIA.

14 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers.

15 Philp, Indian Reform, 130. The name change occurred in 1947.

16 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. Included in several pages of handwritten notes is Post’s description of her introduction to La Farge. She states that following a trip with her husband, her photos came to the attention of Charles Collier’s daughter-in-law, and then made their way to La Farge. The dates here are somewhat confusing; it seems unlikely that Charles Collier—who was born in 1909—had a daughter-in-law by 1940. Additionally, Post identifies him as “[ ]upt. Collier.” This infers that Post was perhaps instead referring to John Collier’s daughter-in-law. Or, that John Collier was in fact the recommender and not Charles. Regardless, Post’s photographs were received by government officials at some point before the publication of La Farge’s text in 1940.

17 Philp, Indian Reform, 130–32. The Indian Reorganization Act was originally called the Wheeler-Howard Act. It was also sometimes referred to as the “Indian New Deal.”

18 Colin G. Calloway, First Peoples: A Documentary Survey of American Indian History (Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2016), 446.

19 Calloway, First Peoples, 450–51; Marsha Weisiger, “Gendered Injustice: Navajo Livestock Reduction in the New Deal Era,” Western Historical Quarterly 38, no. 4 (2007): 437–55; Robert S. McPherson, Navajo Livestock Reduction in Southeastern Utah, 1933–46: History Repeats Itself,” American Indian Quarterly 22, no. 1 (Winter–Spring, 1998): 1–18.

20 James C. Faris, Navajo and Photography: A Critical History of the Representation of an American People (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996), xi, 19–32.

21 Susan Sontag, On Photography (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1977), 4; Lucy Lippard, ed., Partial Recall: Photographs of Native North Americans (New York: New Press, 1992), 14–15.

22 Post, “Alma Kitchell’s Brief Case.” In her 1941 radio interview with Alma Kitchell, Post confirmed that she asked for permission before photographing.

23 Faris, Navajo and Photography, 212–18.

24 Faris, 46, 218 (qtn.).

25 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. Although Post’s notebooks mention her experience of eating with and conversing with her sitters, they, unfortunately, do not include more personal information regarding the identities of her subjects. There are a few notes in her collection that name several individuals; however, those particular individuals are from tribes other than Navajo and, thus, not discussed in this particular essay.

26 Martha A. Sandweiss, Laura Gilpin: An Enduring Grace (Fort Worth, TX: Amon Carter Museum, 1986), 54–55.

27 Post, “Alma Kitchell’s Brief Case.”

28 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers.

29 D’Arcy McNickle, Indian Man: A Life of Oliver La Farge (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1971), 100– 104.

30 McNickle, Indian Man, 41–50.

31 McNickle, 80.

32 McNickle, 106–7.

33 McNickle, 110; see also Robert A. Hecht, Oliver La Farge and the American Indian: A Biography (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1991), 61–64. La Farge became president of the Eastern Association in 1933, the same year Collier was appointed head of the BIA. La Farge published more than 20 literary works during his lifetime, both fiction and nonfiction. He won the Pulitzer Prize in 1929 for his novel Laughing Boy, which centers on Navajos.

34 McNickle, Indian Man, 119. La Farge described the text as, “a study of the realities of Indian affairs and the Indian problem, a social document, and the possibilities excite me.”

35 Oliver La Farge, As Long as the Grass Shall Grow (New York: Alliance Book Corporation, 1940), 6.

36 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers.

37 La Farge, As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, 2–7. According to an appendix, Post photographed Crow, Blackfeet, Flathead, Navajo, Jicarilla Apache, San Carlos Apache, San Ildefonso Pueblo, and Taos Indians for the book.

38 La Farge, As Long as the Grass Shall Grow, 8–25.

39 Paul L. Fickinger to government Indian schools, 8 November 1940, 38617–1940–048, 11E3, 3/28/6, box 236, Central Classified Files, 1940–1957, Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Record Group 75, National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C.

40 Index of government Indian schools, 1 January 1940, 38617–1940–048, 11E3, 3/28/6, box 236, Central Classified Files, Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

41 Correspondence from Helen M. Post to Harold Ickes, 31 May 1940, file no. 38617–1940–048-General Services, 11E3, 3/28/6, box 236, Central Classified Files, Records of the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

42 Faris, Navajo and Photography, 14.

43 Faris, 107–21; Brian W. Dippie, “Photographic Allegories and Indian Destiny,” Montana: The Magazine of Western History 42, no. 3 (1992): 40–57.

44 Christopher M. Lyman, The Vanishing Race and Other Illusions: Photographs of Indians by Edward S. Curtis (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1982), 13. On the other hand, in the introduction to Christopher M. Lyman’s volume about Curtis, Vine Deloria Jr. cautions that viewers should to try to understand Curtis’s work for what it is, rather than what it ought to be. “If [Curtis’s images] come to represent an Indian that never was . . . then our use of them is a delusion and perversion of both Indians and the artful expressions of Curtis.”

45 Naomi Rosenblum, A History of Women Photographers (New York: Abbeville Press, 2000), 324.

46 Rosenblum, Women Photographers, 320–22.

47 Sandweiss, Enduring Grace, 44–64.

48 Lyman, The Vanishing Race, 18–23. Curtis’s photographs began to receive acclaim following his death. His images especially gained popularity during the latter half of the twentieth century.

49 Sandweiss, Enduring Grace, 28–32. Gilpin composed several booklets, pamphlets, and catalogs throughout her life that contained her photographs. She likewise applied for, and received, numerous fellowships, grants, and exhibition invitations.

50 Sandweiss, 44–70.

51 Sandweiss, 45–65. Sandweiss writes that Gilpin did not provide props for her sitters, but I have not yet been able to corroborate this suggestion with other sources.

52 Faris, Navajo and Photography, 107–121.

53 Philp, Indian Reform, 159.

54 Nancy Marie Mithlo, For a Love of His People: The Photography of Horace Poolaw (Washington D.C.: National Museum of the American Indian, 2014), 9–10.

55 Philp, Indian Reform, 129–30.

56 Philp, 146–50. This was common practice until the early twentieth century.

57 Handwritten notes, Helen Post Papers. 58 Bourke-White and Caldwell, “The American Indian,” May 11, 1940.