Early last fall, the Smithsonian threw a tremendous party for a grand and uncommon event—the opening of a new museum. In this case, it was the National Museum of the American Indian. As charter members of the NMAI who happen to live in the far-flung Washington area, Himself and Yours Truly were invited to an after-hours reception held as part of the inaugural festivities. The reception was complete with well-stocked stations for food and drink on three levels of the museum and included both hard and soft beverages—which one might decently argue against, given what alcohol has done to so many Native peoples. Menu selections made a polite stab at presenting “authentic” food items native to the New World. It was a rare occasion to hobnob Washington-style with lots of other folks who were unaccustomed to such hobnobbery, and we’ll not soon forget the experience. Nor are we likely to forget those initial impressions made by the museum itself.

Several months and three seasons later, Himself and I made our second visit to this marvelous new attraction. This time we were not part of a select group being feted with special attention and special chow. This time we were merely curious visitors. And once again, we’ll not soon forget the experience. But this time, sans the VIP trappings, the museum itself stole the whole show—and what a show it is!

Structure and Landscaping

As everything about NMAI tries to emphasize, this celebration of the Native cultures of the Western Hemisphere has endeavored to avoid the pitfalls that have befallen other programs devoted to the Native peoples of the New World, their past, and their present. Constructed in conjunction with representatives of Native groups on the last remaining museum site along the National Mall, the realization of that strategy can be said to begin with the structure itself—and the landscaping that surrounds it. The new NMAI was always intended to serve as “A Native Place,” and its architects and designers spared no effort to measure up to the challenge.

Thus the museum is built of a warm golden stone that sparkles in the sunlight like the adobe of a Southwestern pueblo. The stone has been worked to display soft curves intended to resemble the windswept walls of a canyon. Indeed, like the contrast provided by unexpected streams of water in the desert Southwest, the museum’s fountain (featuring both worked and natural stone) provides visual and audible drama. Resembling a small river and waterfall more than a traditional fountain, the rushing water works to pull visitors more completely into the illusion of being in a remote Western canyon. Even the posts intended for banners advertising the museum and its collections are designed to look like the vigas of a pueblo.

In front of the museum’s entrance, facing the Capitol, landscape architects have restored a small portion of the wetlands that were once so common to what is now the National Mall. It is now three seasons on from this remarkable restoration. Here one can sit on the retaining wall that both invites and restricts access by curious visitors, and from this vantage point it is possible to view the Capitol dome above and reflected in a natural oasis of water and vegetation. Already the air is punctuated with the call of birds more likely to be found on a wildlife preserve than in Washington, DC. With care and luck, this relatively small restored wetland will return a measure of natural life and vitality to the Mall that it has not known for well over a century.

Once the landscaping has had an opportunity to mature, it will represent the natural diversity of the Chesapeake region, complete with representative areas featuring forest and meadow, as well as wetland. This return of “a native place” embodies precisely the symbolism envisioned for the NMAI.

A small plot of soil along the Independence Avenue side of the museum has been designated as a garden plot, serving to demonstrate the crops and agricultural techniques common to Native peoples. The designers have also included a number of large so-called Grandfather Stones and an alcove featuring a cardinal marker, respectively intended to symbolize the enduring reverence for the environment that is part of Native culture and the remarkable astronomical achievements of pre-Columbian peoples in the Americas.

Inside NMAI

Entry into the museum is through double doors of translucent glass embossed with pictographs from various Native cultures. Visitors then pass through what has become the inevitable security screen, past the information desk with its greetings of welcome in many Native languages, and into the Potomac chamber.

Potomac. This large circular space dominates the museum's entrance. Here, under a soaring dome with a skylight intended to resemble a smoke hole in an oversized hogan or roundhouse, the designers have created a backdrop for ceremonial performances. Infused with natural light from above and through glass prisms serving as windows, this ceremonial chamber is like no other anywhere—indoors or out. Steps slopping downward provide a natural space for seating. The slight descent into the Potomac, which is largely encircled by a high screen of woven copper, reproduces much of the symbolism present in a kiva (a ceremonial chamber found in Southwestern pueblos). Finally, a circle of burnished stone near the center of the floor space suggests a fire ring, placed directly under the skylight in the museum’s four-stories-high dome. It could almost as easily symbolize sipapu—the symbolic umbilical connecting Earth's children to their mother's womb, a concept taken from the creation mythology of the pueblo peoples.

Exhibits. NMAI’s exhibit spaces resemble those of an art museum more than it does those of a traditional anthropological museum. There are no doubt many reasons why this is so, but the most important of these can undoubtedly be traced to the designers’ determination not to repeat old sins against Native communities. In the past—and indeed in the present—the history and culture of Native American peoples have often been presented in a vacuum that has disregarded the continuing evolution of these far-flung communities. So the secular and religious artifacts of Native peoples—and even their very bones—came to be studied and exhibited in a manner that was often highly offensive.

At NMAI, there are thousands of wonderful artifacts on exhibit, but this time the “mission” is defined as an effect to celebrate “the lifeways, languages, literature, history, and art of Native Americans.” With this in mind, the staff has created three permanent exhibit areas: Our Universes, Our Peoples, and Our Lives. These exhibits use a multimedia approach, including interviews and narratives displayed on monitors located throughout these areas, to depict Native culture within a thoroughly modern context that accounts for the unique heritage honored by what is a diverse collection of dynamic communities. As a result, the sterile exhibits typical of so many anthropological museums have been replaced by an experience that is much more akin to what I’ve come to expect in small museums created and managed by tribal curators on reservation lands. Touring these exhibits is much like sharing a neighbor’s family mementoes—personal and informative, but based on a mutually accepted right to privacy.

Other exhibit spaces have been devoted to the work of talented artists. As with artists from other cultures around the globe, their sculptures, canvases, drawings, and various other works demonstrate the ability to blend, borrow, and adapt themes and techniques from their own tradition with influences from the larger culture. The result is spectacular art that is sometimes primitive and sometimes extremely sophisticated—but always exciting.

Take, for example, the work of Allan Houser (or Haozous, as he was born), a Chiricahua Apache whose father was with Geronimo when he surrendered to the U.S. Army in 1886. Houser (1914-1994) would likely have been an important painter and sculptor whatever his heritage. His career spanned much of the twentieth century, and his ability to use of modern art forms allowed him to depict traditional Native American themes to an international audience. NMAI’s inaugural exhibition (ongoing through the summer of 2005) includes a Houser retrospective that is poignant and powerful, particularly in its treatment of women. His mature work is fully modern, fully American, and fully Native.

Key exhibit areas within the museum are located on the building’s third and fourth levels, with Our Universes and Our Peoples on the fourth level. Our Lives and the museum’s series of featured exhibits are housed on the third level. The three permanent exhibit areas consist largely of a three great rooms, each with a series of small alcoves devoted to individual communities and a larger central area given over to common themes. All in all the arrangement is somewhat analogous to that of a longhouse, in which individual families have their own private space and where a larger common area is shared. The large area for featured exhibits will no doubt be adapted in terms of paths and temporary partitions according to the needs of each exhibit, but for the inaugural event, it was a gallery space not unlike most gallery spaces in modern museums.

NMAI’s Window on Collections also deserve a quick mention. These spaces are literally windowed walls that feature some aspect of Native craft or history, and they are found in the stairway lobbies on the third and fourth levels. One of these collections, for example, features a collection of pottery. Each pot can be viewed at close range behind its protective window. If the visitor is interested in more detail, touchscreen monitors provide additional information on every item included in collection.

Other Facilities. In addition, the museum’s facilities include two theaters, a resource center, a conference center, two workshop areas, and a patrons lounge. Two museum shops offer a wide range of choices to visitors: The Chesapeake Museum Store on the ground level has an outstanding collection of fine Native arts and crafts. Prices are high, generally ranging from a few hundred to several thousand dollars. The Roanoke Museum Store on the second level offers books, posters, music, less expensive craft items, and other merchandise that tends to be less demanding on the pocketbook.

Mitsitam Café. Hungry visitors will be pleasantly surprised by the museum’s cafeteria, which is surely unique in DC’s museum district. Like the foods served at the NMAI’s inaugural party, menu items served at the Mitsitam ("let’s eat" in a local tribal language) are largely indigenous to the Americas and inspired by Native American tradition. Hence, one can visit Mitsitam and indulge in a pulled buffalo barbeque sandwich, glazed salmon seasoned with juniper, tamales, cornbread made with blue cornmeal, or pumpkin soup. Inspiration may come from anywhere in the New World, and the quality is generally very good—especially when measured against the uninspired burgers and sandwiches offered at most other Smithsonian cafeterias.

On “Native American” Versus “American Indian”

One issue that perhaps should receive a bit more attention than it does at NMAI is the political correctness of such terms “Native American” and “American Indian.” As a child of the Southwest, my Indian (then the generally accepted term) classmates counted themselves first as members of a particular tribal community—Navajo, Sandia, Apache, etc.—and then as Indians, an identity that embraced very nearly all the Native peoples of the New World. (Still, it does no harm to note that Native Americans, Indigenous peoples, or Aboriginal peoples are all terms that are slightly more inclusive—since American Indian does not really apply to the Native peoples of Alaska and Hawaii.)

Granted, the years of my youth extend back beyond the current debate over terminology, but regular trips “home” from the East have underscored that most of the Native Americans/American Indians from the regions I know best still prefer to be known by their tribal designations—so much so that a few groups have altered spellings, the better to reflect the pronunciation of their own language (e.g., the Yakima of the Pacific Northwest are now officially the Yakama). Others maintain one identity toward the outside world and a more private identity within their own group. So it is that the Navajo proudly identify themselves as Navajo to outsiders, but among themselves, they are the D’ineh—or “the People.”

In my opinion and experience, it is this sense of peoplehood and the respect applied thereto that are key to dealing responsibly with how to address and reference Native peoples. Each “tribe” is in fact a separate sovereign nation with all the requisite trappings of a separate identity. My friends and acquaintances from among these sovereign peoples certainly recognize respect when they encounter it—and in the final analysis, that respect is all they really require.

Bits and Pieces

Admission: Free, though timed passes will likely be required during peak seasons and weekends. Call 1-866-400-6624 for information.

Hours: 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily. Closed December 25.

Website: http://www.americanindian.si.edu/

© DAnneC/BawBaw, 2005

Recommended: Yes

Best Time to Travel Here: Mar - May