Oral history interview with Richard Aitson

Little Thunder: My name is Julie Pearson Little Thunder. Today is Monday, October 1, and I'm interviewing Kiowa bead artist Richard Aitson at his home in Claremore, Oklahoma. This interview is part of the Oklahoma Native Artists Project, sponsored by Oklahoma Oral History Research Program at Oklahoma State University.

Richard, you've done beadwork of many different kinds, from cultural items to beaded stethoscopes, winning some of the top awards in beadwork at shows like Santa Fe Indian Market, the Heard Museum. Your work has been featured in a number of beading books, including one that came out this summer during Indian Market. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me.

Aitson: Sure.

Little Thunder: Where were you born, and where did you grow up?

Aitson: Born in Anadarko on December 26, 1953, and it's questionable whether I ever grew up. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: What did your mom and dad do for a living?

Aitson: Mom worked. When I was in elementary school she was a house mother at Riverside [Indian School] and progressed all the way up to Head of Guidance at Fort Wingate School.

Little Thunder: At Fort Wingate, she was a guidance counselor?

Aitson: No, she was the Head of Guidance. She changed careers several times. She was the Dean of Students at Bacone, and then when she retired from that, she decided she was going to teach Kiowa language in a different way, so she wrote her own textbook. Subsequently, she taught at Riverside, Anadarko, and 2:00University of Science and Arts (USAO) in Chickasha. They will be releasing this in the next several months, a forty-hour series of videos of her actually teaching one-on-one with one of the students. She'll be going through her whole book. That video, I've been really impressed with that. Looking forward to it.

Little Thunder: Did you live in Muskogee while she was at Bacone?

Aitson: Yes, I was a beadwork instructor there. I'd taken over for Grandma 3:00Spinks (I guess everybody referred to her as such) who retired after teaching there for over fifty years. (Laughter) She handpicked me to succeed her.

Little Thunder: What about your grandparents on either side of your family?

Aitson: My father's side--my father was Marland Aitson. He lived in Gallup, New Mexico, for many, many years and was associated with the Intertribal Indian Ceremonial. I think for three years he was the president, and several years he was the vice president. He always seemed to be on the board.

His parents were an interesting group. My grandmother was the only daughter of 4:00John and Florence Momaday. Her brother was Al Momaday, and although we don't wear that on our sleeve, we don't hide from it either. Since then, I've developed a close relationship with Scott Momaday and his daughters.

Al Momaday was my hero in many, many ways. I got to know him when I was in high school. I was sort of his gofer when he taught a summer class at USAO. In that class there were some pretty heavy-duty painters: Ernie Blue Jay Keahbone, 5:00Dennis Belindo, Robby McMurtry, and, I think, Jean Bales. It was a good, strong, core group of artists in there.

His command of the room, it was just overpowering. I loved watching that man work. Very similar to watching Dick West work, overpowering voice, the big presence, command of time and space, knew everything that he should know, and very likeable. Those kinds of teachers are few and far between, but when you have them, you embrace them. Since I was his gofer, I got a lot of free art instruction but also a lot of wisdom.

My mother's parents--well, let me get back to my father's parents. His father was a man named James Konad from the White Buffalo family. He died when he was twenty-three or twenty-four years old, but prior to that he was a legend in early Fancy Dancing. After he died, my grandmother married Richard Aitson, who was an aspiring professional baseball player. He was at Ottawa University, well, first at Chilocco [Indian School] and then Ottawa. He and his friend, John 7:00Tippeconnic, were drafted by St. Louis, but since they were recent converts to Christianity through the Rainy Mountain Church, they refused the contract because that meant they would've had to play ball on Sundays. It's just something unheard of, but I admired so much their faith and their desire to do it correctly. When I think about that in regard to other well-known Indian or 8:00even non-Indian athletes, that's some powerful stuff.

Now, my mother's family, her grandfather was a Kiowa Apache headsman named Tennyson Berry, who was a graduate of Carlisle [Indian Industrial School]. He also was a saxophonist and the assistant conductor. They played at William Howard Taft's inauguration. He was also a figure skater. (Laughs) Carlisle debated Harvard and Yale, and he was on the debate team. Just a real visionary 9:00and Renaissance man.

I think he and I probably would've killed each other because I don't know if he really had that much respect for artists or artists with radical ideas and notions, (Laughter) but we may have been the best of friends. I don't know. When I knew him, he was very old, very feeble, almost blind, almost completely deaf, and it was very hard to communicate with him, and yet you know at some point in time there was a lot of glory in this man.

His wife was Kiowa Annie. Union Pacific Railroad elected her the most beautiful 10:00Indian girl in the country. Her picture was in all of the train stations west of the Mississippi. Matter of fact, I just purchased one on eBay the other night. (Laughter) She's a beautiful lady. Again, I knew her when she was very, very old, well into her nineties and certainly not the beauty that she was outwardly when she was much younger.

My grandma was a quiet lady. Her sister was Jeanette Mopope, who was somewhat more flamboyant than my grandma, but they knew the same things. They knew how to 11:00beadwork. They knew how to tan hides. They knew Kiowa cultural issues perfectly. My grandmother, in her early years, chose to be a farm wife rather than a powwow wife. Later on, when my Grandpa [inaudible] began to get jobs as a powwow announcer, we then started going to a lot more powwows and embracing camp life. When we camped at the Indian fair, we camped at the Indian fair, two weeks ahead. That was something to look forward to. At the same time, while other kids 12:00were getting ready for school and that kind of thing, we were still living in the tents at the fairgrounds. That's what we did.

Little Thunder: Were those some of your first memories of seeing Native art, at the fair?

Aitson: Take it back even further. My grandma's cousin was married to Jack Hokeah, her sister was married to Steve Mopope, and another cousin of hers was Lois Smoky. I don't recall ever seeing her paint, but she would put soles on moccasins for my grandma. As time went on, when I began to actually study 13:00beadwork, I found out how significant her contributions in beadwork were, as opposed to painting.

There were designs that she was doing before anyone. I would always try and find multiple sources if someone made a certain claim about her or her sister, Lucy Jackson. For example, the sunburst concept that everybody uses came about in the '40s with Lucy Jackson when she and her then-husband, Clyde Ahtape, had gone down to Mexico for a peyote meeting. They came back, and she was copying serape designs in beadwork. Consequently, everybody in the world, including Marcus 14:00Amerman, has used that. It's particularly significant among Shoshones and Paiutes, probably as much as in Oklahoma. I don't think that anybody has recognized that.

Little Thunder: Thank you for sharing that.

Aitson: There are small things that only beadwork geeks would (wow, I've never used that before!) beadwork geeks would appreciate in terms of other contributions. (Laughter) That's the big one. That is the big one. Probably six or seven different people have confirmed that, and it was people that were her 15:00peers. The original piece may even be in existence. I've been looking into that. It was a belt she made for her nephew, Spencer Ahpeahtone when he was ordained. She told me that was the first piece that she'd done in that concept. I would like to find that.

Little Thunder: What was your first experience making art of any kind?

Aitson: Second grade, Fort Cobb. Ms. Byrd said, "All of you Indian kids can draw." (Laughter) So I figured if I'm going to wear the mantle, I better wear it well. (Laughter) I wished she'd said "cook." (Laughter)

Little Thunder: Secondary through the grade levels, any involvement with visual art, very strongly? Did you continue to have it?

Aitson: Not particularly.

Little Thunder: For part of high school, you attended Kimball [Union] Academy in Meriden, New Hampshire. How did you end up there?

Aitson: Got kicked out of Santa Fe for taking over a building in Albuquerque.

Little Thunder: Oh! Well, tell us about your Institute [of American Indian Arts] experience first. (Laughs)

Aitson: My radical politics?

Little Thunder: Your radical student days. (Laughter)

Aitson: I'd rather not. (Laughter) Needless to say, the school gave me an option of either leaving, or, as the agent told me, "I have a list of all of your 17:00family that works for the government, and if you'd like to see them working tomorrow, you'll leave school." (Laughter)

Little Thunder: Did you go to the Institute during high school?

Aitson: Yes, I was a sophomore there where I met Jan Chaddlesone, Sherman's sister, and through her I got to know T. C. Cannon. Later on, when I was a preppy, he was the Artist-in-Residence at Dartmouth. Whenever he was giving a lecture, he always recognized the former Institute students. It makes you feel so good when somebody that important is pointing you out when you sort of 18:00consider yourself to be insignificant.

Little Thunder: At the Institute, were you interested in three-dimensional media? Were you interested in beadwork?

Aitson: No, actually, I went there as a music and creative writer. I found out how poor the music department was, and it was one of the reasons I chose to leave, anyway. I wanted more academically than what they were offering. When I first left, I first went to Madison, Connecticut. Had a program called A Better Chance, and that's where I met Donald Walsh as my poetry tutor. Through him, got 19:00to know, through letters, Pablo Neruda.

Little Thunder: Because he was translating?

Aitson: Yes, he had translated The Captain's Verses in 1972 for Neruda, and consequently Neruda won the Nobel Prize. It was also about that time that I began to hear some rumblings from Scott Momaday and James Welch and other Indian writers. Began to formulate things in that way, writing a lot, getting things published without having to work at it very hard.

Little Thunder: In the poetry journals or what kinds of places?

Aitson: Yes, also won several major awards. This is really difficult to talk 20:00about because traditional Kiowas don't talk about themselves, but I'm trying to do it as gracefully as I can. From Madison, I went to Kimball Union Academy. Traveled quite a bit during those summers, just getting a feel for what it was like to be outside of Oklahoma, outside of New Mexico, just expanding my world, and decided that I wanted to go to Stanford.

Took an extra year of high school to get prepared, got accepted, went there and wasn't really happy, particularly when the earthquake came and my roommate's bed and mine were hitting together in the middle of the room. I decided, well, since I'd already been accepted at Oberlin [College] and the door was still open that I would go to Oberlin, where I stayed for the rest of my college career. I'm still lacking eight hours. (Laughter)

During that time, one of the things I did was try and make a little extra money. I had watched my grandma beadwork for years, picked up a lot of ideas and techniques, and made a little money. My junior year, she was trying to get us, 22:00all the dancers in my family, ready for a dance in Carnegie, and I said, "I don't need a new pair of moccasins. I want a new pair of moccasins." She said, "You know how to do it. Here's the buckskin, and here's the rawhide. You have your own beads, so go ahead and make them." What surprised me is the first pair came out right. I can't say so much about the second or third pair, but I learned how to correct my mistakes.

Shortly thereafter, Taft Hainta came to me for some beadwork. He was our 23:00headsman. Nelson Big Bow, a number of our headsman began to come to me for moccasins or other things. I don't know how prepared I was to do that, but I also knew that I wasn't allowed to turn them down. Fortunately, I still had my grandma with me to coach me, and then when she passed away, I relied on my aunt, Gladys Ahtay Parton, as my coach and mentor. Fortunately, her mother was still alive, (and that was Lucy Blanche Jackson) so I could go to both of them for coaching when I needed.

I learned so much about family history from that. I learned that my family from Verden was related to the people in Meers, and that's how come their beadwork looked alike, and that my Great-Grandma Berry was also from that same family. It was about that time I began to decide, again, to meet beadwork and museum people who considered themselves to be experts. I began to see flaws in their expertise, but they had the credentials.

Little Thunder: Can you give examples?

Aitson: Okay, I'll give you one really good example. The trailer fringes on the back of Southern Plains moccasins, for many, many years those were regarded as hiding one's footprints. Now, it made no sense to me whatsoever for a couple of reasons. One, these were not used during the days when people were actually tracking people, so that made no sense at all. Second of all, they were meticulously done. These weren't your work moccasins. These were your absolute best, and, generally, they were ceremonial pieces. And third, if you're a 180- 26:00to 200-pound Indian being tracked by another Indian, there ain't enough fringes on the back of a moccasin that's going to hide anybody's tracks. (Laughter) So that made no sense whatsoever.

After finding out that was a BS story, I let those guys continue with that because those were actually made for, initially, for horseback riding. The reason, when they would come back from a raid, they would camp outside the initial camp, the main camp, for four days. During that time, their families would bring them food and clean clothes and fresh horses and let them get 27:00cleaned up, get rested.

Then, when they came back in, they would be riding the best horses with the best buckskin suits. When you're riding a horse, you want to look--and Kiowas particularly like those wonderful flamboyant rolled fringes on their shirts and on their leggings. Since these fringes on the backs of their moccasins were extremely long, (I'm talking maybe at least a foot long) obviously, they weren't made for walking. They were made for riding, for showing off when you're riding a horse. So I let the experts continue that kind of nonsense, and then when I'm asked, I figure I can show them up if I have to.

Little Thunder: When you first started beading, what do you think set your work apart?

Aitson: Attention to technique, attention to detail, making sure that--moccasins are a funny thing. Either they are very elegant, or they are really ugly. I couldn't see myself rushing through a pair of moccasins that just looked ugly on someone, so I spent a lot of time making them look right.

My early customers were Ray and Ethel McKee from McKee's Indian Store in 29:00Anadarko, and Nellie Stevens at Mohawk Lodge. These folks were buying everything I made. Also, later on, Snoopy's Indian Store, Marci Davilla in Anadarko, and later, up into the mid-'90s, I developed a relationship, friendship, customer-dealer relationship with Doris Littrell, Linda Greever.

Also, before that time, around 1980, I left Oberlin, and I picked up a really 30:00neat job in Aspen, Colorado. I started out as sales at the Squash Blossom Gallery, which was one of the finest, high-end Indian galleries in the country. I learned so much from Earl Vance, who was very much a part of the Gallup trader legacy.

He started out in guest ranches and selling a little bit of silver and turquoise there, expanding his private business, all the way to having five galleries and then developing places like Tubac, Arizona, West Gallup, and Aspen Highlands. It 31:00was all from those beginnings of working in guest ranches and tourism, of what the tastes of the clientele or how to judge the tastes of the clientele, and work the market in that way.

I see galleries all the time trying to force the public to accepting their tastes rather than reading their tastes and offering that to them. I learned a lot from Earl Vance that way.

Little Thunder: Was this about the time you started shifting to not necessarily making cultural items that are utilitarian but thinking more in terms of other kinds of applications of beadwork?

Aitson: Yes, I got to know a couple of folks there. Nathan Youngblood was an early influence, even though he was my age, but I saw that somebody in their mid-twenties could already be considered a Master, maintaining high family standards with attention to detail. Watching him, like I said, somebody my age, working, setting extremely high standards for themselves, I liked that. I liked it to the point that I put myself under those same restrictions because if I had the audacity to say that my beadwork came from the same bloodline as Lois Smoky, 33:00then, by golly, I better prove it, at least with quality.

Little Thunder: Were you selling some of your beadwork out of the Squash Blossom?

Aitson: I was so busy then that there was very, very little time for that. A number of times, I was working seven days a week, and this is tourist industry. When I had the month of October off, I came back to Oklahoma just to recharge for the rest of the winter season. Spent Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, all of that in Aspen, completely away from my family. That was tough, but all 34:00during that time, I was learning.

Little Thunder: What was the first competitive show you entered with your beadwork?

Aitson: The 1969 Indian Fair, Anadarko.

Little Thunder: How about another sort of show after you'd worked at Squash Blossom?

Aitson: Well, the first one I set up at was probably Red Earth. I just really shied away from doing shows. I liked to go and see my friends compete. I just didn't think I had the temperament for sitting in a booth and entertaining folks telling me about their Cherokee princess grandmothers and keep a straight face. 35:00(Laughter) But finally, Bill Glass and several other people talked me into doing Red Earth. Since we were living in Oklahoma City then, it wasn't like I was going to be out of town much, I mean, not too far out of town that I could always make it home. The first year I got three third places. The next year I got a first and a Best in Category. My third year I got Best in Show.

Little Thunder: That was the award for your miniature cradleboard?

Aitson: No, that was a Gourd Dance set, moccasins, gourd, fan, blanket, and blanket pin. The cradles, I think I've gotten first place and Best in Category 36:00just about every time until very, very recently. I can't believe that I blew out totally at the Cherokee show with one of my cradles. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: They're just wonderful. Talk about how you first started getting into them.

Aitson: I owned one. I owned the [inaudible] cradle. She was an ancestor of Lois Smoky and my great-grandmother, Annie Berry. It got passed down to me. There came a very serious time when a bunch of people in my family were losing their houses or in danger of losing their houses within a matter of days. I decided, 37:00"I have something that will rescue everybody." I really never looked back after that. I felt no remorse about selling that. I feel no remorse now. I did what I had to do, but I didn't let it go without taking a lot of notes in my head about what to do.

When I felt like doing one, I made two full-size cradles before I tried the little ones. I like the little ones because it takes me a week, maybe ten days to do one, from start to finish. That includes planing and sanding all the wood, 38:00all the design work, everything from start to finish, aside from tanning hides. When I get started, I don't like to work on anything else, so that's why it takes a week to ten days at the most.

I've been known to pull all-nighters once I'm in that zone. I think I just look forward to that point when time and space are irrelevant and they are focusing on, "What will this look like in ten minutes? In two hours?" Or, "What will it look like in the morning when I'm close to being finished?" You never want to 39:00feel like you're finished with it. Even when you finally sign your name to it, you're looking at it like, "I could've added something. I could've done this or that." But once you put your name on it, you really don't own it anymore. That's like telling the world, "Okay, now it belongs to you. Just pay me what it's worth."

Little Thunder: That's your cutoff point, when you sign it.

Aitson: Yes.

Little Thunder: You showed, of course, at Santa Fe Indian Market for a number of years. When did you start showing there, and what do you like about that show?

Aitson: What was that, about ten years ago? Yes, about ten years ago. Oh, it's 40:00just the biggest and where you run into all your folks and friends. The first show of the year, of course, is the Heard. I like doing that because everybody is so fresh after being holed up for the winter, the new ideas, the new beads, the new artists, and they are getting good. They are very, very good, particularly like Dionne Smith Young Bird and Kenneth Williams Jr., pure beadworkers and excellent, excellent. Just love their work.

Of course, there's always Jamie Okuma, who even though she's probably not even 41:00thirty yet is considered one of the older group because she's been competing with us for so long. And a jillion of those Growing Thunders, and every one of them is better than the next. (Laughter)

Generally, as a rule, we are friendly with each other. I don't see that happening with all the artists, but the beadworkers are generally really friendly with each other and willing to help and willing to give advice. I enjoy that part. The bad part is I'm considered the old man of the movement now. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: But they come to you for wisdom and advice. (Laughs)

Aitson: I don't know about that.

Little Thunder: How important are commissions for you?

Aitson: Commissions? Oh, boy. They pay the bills. They really do pay the bills. I don't know if I would rather have commissions or do a good regional show because the commissions are sure money, and sometimes you end up spending much more money doing a show than you bring in. I like that part of being assured that I'm going to get something. I don't like to gamble, so I like the commissions.

Little Thunder: You've taught beadwork for numerous years now. How do you approach your classes?

Aitson: Well, I figure that I'm going to have some that are real rookies, and I'm going to have maybe 10 percent that are experienced beadworkers to some degree. I work from that perspective first. I have to talk about regional styles. If somebody says they want to do beadwork like their grandmother, and their grandmother was, say, Lakota, then I have them look at pictures of Lakota 44:00beadwork and show them the technique or a number of techniques that they can use.

If they're just wanting to make a pair of moccasins, a nice respectful pair of moccasins for themselves, I approach it from a different way, more from technique. "This is the sole. These are the tops. This is how you cut it. This is how you form it to your foot," and encourage them to use their own mind's eye for designs. Now, of course, like any other working artist, there are some things I keep for myself.

Little Thunder: When it comes to beading, do you think a distinction should be 45:00made between art and craft?

Aitson: It all depends on how high quality the craft is. If it's the same piece over and over and over again, then it becomes mindless, and it doesn't have to be done by a tribal member. That's why I work so hard at teaching my students to look into their own past and then show them the techniques that were associated with that culture.

Little Thunder: What beadwork creation are you most proud of and why?

Aitson: I did a pair of moccasins with long fringes instead of jingles. I've seen several pairs like this in magazines with mescals on the fringes. I took that pair to Los Angeles to the Autry [National Center] for their show. I had what I considered better pieces. I had a buckskin shirt, had a toy cradle, and 47:00yet these moccasins got Best in Show.

My contention is you can never, ever plan on Best in Show. You can push yourself to have Best in Category, but that's the best you can plan for. Even then, you're really at the mercy of judges and your competitors, but you know what you have to do to get to that point. Best in Show, you can never, ever plan on that because you shouldn't be able to sway judges. You shouldn't be able to sway anything when it gets to that level and let the judges have their fun.

Little Thunder: You've been on that end in the judging process. You've done judging, too. What challenges does that present?

Aitson: Well, at some point, you're judging apples against oranges. I would imagine it's like judging the Westminster Dog Show. You don't judge the Great Dane versus the St. Barnard and which one is the better dog. You look at this one and think, "Is this the best Great Dane there is in competition, and how does it stack up against the best St. Barnard?" Eventually, it gets to what piece actually moves my heart.

Several years back, I judged Red Earth with Jaune Quick-to-See Smith and Michael Horse. Since she was the elder of the three of us, Michael and I designated her as our head judge. Ordinarily, that doesn't mean a whole lot, but it really came down to two pieces that were exceptional.

Mitchell Boyiddle had done a whole peyote set in size sixteen beads. I'm just so impressed with the fact that it was all done in super-tiny beads. The fan was a match set of red macaws. All the beadwork was exactly matching. Even the bundle of sage was beaded. On the other hand, I think Clarence Lee (I think that's who 50:00it was) had a sterling silver pickup truck that, if you turned the wheel, when you put your finger inside there and turned the wheel, the tires turned. (Laughter) There were even tiny little windshield wipers. This thing was beautiful.

So what do you do? Do you go for the piece that is so traditional, or do you go for the piece that has taken silversmithing to a completely different level? You do what a really smart judge does. You pass it off to your head judge who stood 51:00there and looked at both and looked at both. (Laughter) All this time, you're learning from her. She says, "Okay, you guys, we're going to do it this way, and I expect you guys to back me up on this." She said, "The only reason I'm giving it to the peyote set is because you can actually take that and use it at a meeting tonight. The quality of these pieces are so high that this is the only standard that we can apply."

That builds on what you've learned, and now you have another reason to add when you're judging. I try and learn things like that. If I'm judging silver and 52:00turquoise, I try and see if they're staying with Zuni standards or Navajo standards, if the lapidary work is high-quality, if they're doing innovative things, or if they're going so far out of the box that they've left too much of their Indianness behind. If people say, "Well, you don't have the right to make that determination," well, as the judge, I can say anything I want because I'm the judge. It doesn't mean I'm always right, but it seems like the right thing for me to say at the moment.

I've had some folks really disagree with me violently, but that's okay. 53:00(Laughter) If the quality of their work is high enough, they'll be asked to be a judge. Then they can have all the revenge they want on me. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: You've sort of explained the business education that you got through Squash Blossom. I'm wondering what the most important thing about the business of art is that you've learned?

Aitson: Integrity. By that, I mean I turned down pieces when buyers would come 54:00in because I knew that they were misrepresenting, telling me that a certain person was Indian when I knew that they weren't, and yet I could buy from that person, from the Indian. Or even if an established artist comes in and his work is not up to standard and if they're trying to sell me a piece of junk, I have the option to say no.

I think once you've worked on the back side of the counter, you earn the right 55:00to say and do some things, particularly if you have been successful on that side. Earl Vance taught me to be successful on that side, to earn him money and do it in a righteous way, so when I worked for Linda, it translated that way.

Little Thunder: At the Art Market?

Aitson: Yes. I worked for her for about nine months. I buy and sell on my own on occasion. I'm fanatical about garage saling around here. I've found some good things. Found this double kachina for two dollars in Verden. About all of these 56:00baskets, I've probably paid no more than thirty dollars collectively for all of these. I had a whole stack of these Cherokee baskets I bought for a buck and a half. There's seven of them.

Found this Seminole for, I think, a dollar and a half. This little Mexican basket here, I bought for fifty cents. This little Navajo basket, a quarter. Another Seminole, my father-in-law found that for a dollar. I kind of just went basket crazy up here because that's what's available, but I've found wonderful 57:00things. I found a Jack Hokeah painting for fifty dollars, a Willard Stone for forty dollars. (Laughs)

Little Thunder: Oh my goodness, you've got quite a collection. That's amazing, Richard. You should be in the appraisal business, too.

Aitson: I am, with Linda. I've been doing research for her for years.

Little Thunder: In 1990 when the Indian Arts and Crafts Act was passed, requiring artists be certified by that tribe as artists of the tribe or that they provide proof of enrollment, do you remember how that impacted artists and galleries?

Aitson: Galleries went into a panic because they had been handling work of undocumented folks for all this time, but then there are some that were hard to define, like Willard Stone. There were people who were being outlandish about their claims, like I've run across several people who were claiming Kiowa who 58:00were obviously not, could not give me a family history. The first thing, if one Kiowa meets another Kiowa outside of our territory, the first thing you ask is, "What family are you from?" If they can't tell you, then you become real suspicious.

I've seen people claim one tribe at one show and another tribe at the next show. I know it's very difficult for a number of the gallery owners. You try and stay 59:00out of it because you have friends on both sides, but at some point, for your own well-being, you've got to draw a line in the sand and decide. If their tribe accepts them, then you really don't have a whole lot to say about it, but you still want to see the documentation from their tribe.

I know people were throwing fits at major shows because they couldn't get in anymore. So be it. It's not for us to determine. It's for the tribes to determine. Some people were getting in with letters from tribal chairmen, probably paying political favors back. We all know about that. I mean, we've 60:00been in this business a long time, and we know who the real ones are. Indian politics is not the same as Indian art. Although they do intersect on a number of levels, it's still up to the tribes to determine who's the real thing.

We've all heard, "Well, my grandpa was too proud to have his name put on the roll." "Great. That means you don't qualify." Or, "Well, my family separated from the Trail of Tears." "That was probably because they didn't want to be Indian, so you're paying the price for that." I take a jaundiced look at a lot 61:00of those folks. The only territory that I can actually get into are those who claim Kiowa, and I've weeded out several who are not. I have no, no bad feelings about that at all.

Little Thunder: Going on to the next question, which is about your process and techniques. You use primarily cut glass beads?

Aitson: I use cut beads.

Little Thunder: What else should we know?

Aitson: I use hides from Montana, rawhide from wherever I can get it. I think I might may be having to make my own rawhide at some point very soon. If I can get 62:00one of the slaughter houses to sell me a hide, I'll be in the back scraping it.

Little Thunder: Because the hide maker--

Aitson: Yes, the rawhide maker died, and everybody was depending on him.

Little Thunder: Do you use antique beads very much?

Aitson: When I'm doing restorations for museums. I keep a stash of those back. A friend of mine from Florida, Tom Halkis, about every couple of years sends me a stash of antique beads that he picks up in Italy. I will go to estate sales and such and buy up trashed out pieces just for the beads.

Little Thunder: Do you do very much restoration work?

Aitson: Not as much as I used to. It's more profitable right now for me to do my 63:00own work. I think I've pretty much rescued all the museums in the area. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: What has changed about your beading process over the years?

Aitson: It's gotten much slower.

Little Thunder: Because you're more exacting?

Aitson: Yes, I'm much more critical of my own work, but I also find it's not quite as daring as it used to be. The twenty-four-hour events, marathons, don't happen any longer. (Laughter) If they do, I'm usually a grump for about two days afterwards. Even when I was much younger, a drive out to Santa Fe was more a 64:00spur-of-the-moment decision rather than planning months in advance now because you can pack twenty college students into one room as opposed to--your own family has to have certain necessities nowadays, like Starbucks. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: As I remember, you use a lot of family designs, but I'm wondering if your colors, your palette, has changed much over the years in terms of your beadwork?

Aitson: Yes, because I'm taking more of an academic approach just because I have to.

Little Thunder: By academic, you mean--

Aitson: More concise with colors that are opposing or complementary, as opposed to, "Man, that looks good. Maybe I'll just try that." (Laughter) Sometimes it works, and sometimes it's really, really ugly, but it's worth a try. I don't experiment. I can't afford to experiment like I used to. And then taking designs and concepts that are very traditional and modifying them oh, so slightly to fit 66:00what I'm doing, that seems to be more what I'm doing them nowadays.

Little Thunder: Primarily working with peyote stitch?

Aitson: Peyote stitch, overlay, lazy stitch, about six or seven different kinds of edging. In my younger days, I would actually buy antique pieces, take them apart, just to see the technique. I could kick myself for that now, but it did help out when I did a restoration on a walking stick that had been owned by Geronimo.

Now, I know everybody in the world has heard that, but first, the guy asked me to do an appraisal on it. He had military photos from Fort Sill with Geronimo 67:00actually using it, as opposed to sitting there selling it, so that worked for me. That told me at one point he owned it. But to actually look at the piece, do the restoration on it in the same technique, all came from taking apart old pieces and knowing that technique well enough to do that restoration.

Little Thunder: You've already referenced your rolled fringes a little bit. There's the fact that there's the beadwork in these pieces, but there's also the work with the buckskin that's time-intensive, too, I imagine.

Aitson: Oh, yes.

Little Thunder: Is that a pretty time-consuming endeavor?

Aitson: Well, I buy my hides from Montana for a couple of reasons. Yes, I can 68:00tan hides. I don't like to tan hides. It's not something my nice little ol' white neighbors would like me doing in the backyard because it smells bad. (Laughter) We certainly don't want raccoons and skunks and other vermin showing up in the middle of the night because we have enough of that here. I buy my hides the same way my grandma did: by quality. I don't care who it's made by, but I do have a source in Montana that does absolutely wonderful hides.

Little Thunder: What is your creative process from the time you get an idea for 69:00trying a new piece?

Aitson: Draw it out, see what it feels like. Say, if I'm working on a purse, how that purse will be held, if it's a shoulder-strap purse, if it's something that needs to be held in the hand, what kind of impact will the major design have, and will it complement the other work, or does it need to be a stand-alone piece? All those things go into, "This is what I will do with this."

Once I get to that point, take out the sketchbook, get a rough idea of what I'm 70:00doing, do the initial big piece first. Say, if it's a medallion, do that first and then do the complementary lazy stitch around that. Hopefully, by then, it's something that I can actually put fringes on and like.

Little Thunder: You've talked a little bit about two different approaches to research, one of which has to do with taking things apart, seeing how they're put together, and then, also, scholarly kinds of research. Do you still do both?

Aitson: Don't find as many pieces that I need to tear apart because I think I've 71:00probably learned all I'm going to learn on that. I will look at classic old pieces for a long time, trying to get into the beadworker's head. What were they thinking? Why were they doing things in this way? Were they doing this for a ceremonial purpose or utilitarian or both? Were they doing it as a piece for, say, a family member, or were they showing off? You can tell a whole lot about 72:00those things by keeping those things in mind.

Were they showing off? I can tell you exactly that the women in my family went to the extreme to show off their talent. For my competition pieces, that's what they left me, the desire to show off, because as traditional Kiowas, we don't speak about ourselves. I've heard two Kiowa women say that they were the best beadworkers in Oklahoma. They already violated rule number one. You never, ever refer to yourself as the best if you're a real Kiowa. That puts their 73:00"traditionalist" moniker in another place for me. I can make that judgment now. I've earned the right to make that judgment now. I've been doing this for well over forty years.

Little Thunder: But you can show that you're the best.

Aitson: That's the idea. You don't have to say it if you're proving it. Let somebody else say it. Let the judges say it. Let the person who buys it say it. You're just not allowed to say it, and to do that is really insulting to the way that traditional values were taught.

Little Thunder: What's your creative routine, or do you have a routine, per se?

Aitson: It's pretty mundane. (Laughter) There's nothing special about it.

Little Thunder: Do you work every day?

Aitson: Every day, in some way. If I'm not actually in the beads, I'm designing. I'm absorbing something. I'm reading an article. I'm on the computer looking at older pieces or even newer pieces.

Little Thunder: That's been a great tool.

Aitson: Yes, seeing what these kids are doing and how I'm going to have to 75:00compete against them. I still contend that although my game may not be what it was twenty years ago, I don't hit foul balls every time. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: In terms of beadwork, I think by common agreement, it's been one of the art forms that just has never brought in the money it deserved. What do you think the situation is now? Is it better?

Aitson: If you want it that bad, you'll find it. You'll make it. There are a couple of truths that will always exist. Indians need moccasins. Indians will 76:00spend money on moccasins, so moccasins have been my mainstay. They can always find a medallion for their blanket or something like that, but they have to have moccasins that fit them well.

I'm sure that is the case with the Sun Dancers. That's the rules. You don't come in there with street shoes or sneakers. It's the case with Black Leggings and Gourd clan, that you really don't need to show up if you are not wearing moccasins. These Osage folks around here buy my moccasins. They pay me well. Still make allowances because they are Oklahoma Indians, and most of the people 77:00I sell to are friends, anyway. If you want to work that hard, you can earn well, but you got to keep your quality up.

Little Thunder: Looking back on your career so far, what's been one of the high points?

Aitson: Having the Kiowa Museum designate me as a Master.

Little Thunder: That's wonderful. When was that?

Aitson: Twenty-five years ago. Now there are two of us left out of the initial group, and one is Vanessa [Morgan]. I would like to see it expanded, again, to include some people like Teri Greeves because she's earned accolades, and not to 78:00be considered a Master? Also, I think it also goes in terms of what you know in terms of all of the techniques, not just what you've won. She's proven that, and I feel very comfortable referring to her as Master.

Little Thunder: What has been one of the low points of your career so far?

Aitson: It hasn't happened yet. The reason I say that is that I'm mature enough to find something usable in terms of my career every day. Now, personal life, 79:00not even getting into that. That's something outside the realm of this interview. Professionally, as long as my eyes and hands and back are functioning, I'm going to be beadworking, and that will sustain me.

If there's an event that is so memorably destructive that it becomes a low point or the low point, then my angel of beadwork has been defeated, and I'm not going 80:00to allow that to happen. I've got too many grandmas that would be very disappointed if I reached to that level, and it's not going to happen. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: Is there anything else you'd like to add or talk about before we look at your beadwork?

Aitson: Nope.

Little Thunder: All right. We're looking at some examples of your work. Would you like to tell us a little bit about each one?

Aitson: Okay. Coming up with a concept of a blackjack oak leaf and trying to modify that into something that's workable for a dress, so I've come up with this. I'm sure I'm not through with it yet.

This other, this will be the medallion for a very fancy bolo tie. I've gotten a new kind of strap that runs about a hundred bucks apiece.

This one will probably be a blanket pin and a pair of moccasins that should be finished in a couple of days. I'm modifying those and changing them. If you can see, there's a whole lot more work than the usual Southern Plains kind of moccasin. That's the kind of thing I'm up to nowadays. Even with the buffalo rawhide soles, these are going to be fun.

Little Thunder: Gorgeous.

Aitson: I wish I had more, but it goes out as soon as I'm finished with it because I've got to feed all of these puppies. (Laughter)

Little Thunder: Well, thank you so much for your time today, Richard.

Aitson: Absolutely.

------- End of interview -------