Interview with Marilyn Ray, Acoma Potter

I'm Lisa Falk, and I am at the home of Marilyn Ray in Acoma, New Mexico, on a beautiful July day in 2008. We're talking about her pottery.

I come from a big family. I have five sisters and three brothers, all who are potters. We all have our own style. I do the figurines, and my other sisters do regular olla pots and some do the seed jars. My sisters and I encouraged each other. We gathered the clay, processed the clays on our own, as to how our grandmother taught us. The figurines were what I started with. My grandmother introduced me to the pottery world when I was around 12. My grandmother's name is Dolores S. Sanchez. Her mother and grandmother did pottery. She let me mold my little animal figurines and I sold them alongside her pottery, which were beautiful. She did the large olla pots and that was her main living.

She always taught us and encouraged us. You have to have some kind of talent, and I think that she emphasized that because she made a great living off of it.

My grandparents owned cattle, and that's all my grandfather did, was raise cattle, and all she did was her pottery. She taught me everything, from collecting the clay to making the paint, where to collect them, and how to process the clay. So, I got started when I was around age 12, and I continued from there.

I really didn't take interest in doing it full‑time until I was around maybe 19 years old. I had to have means of support. I had two children and that's when I started. So, back in 1979 was about the year that I started my art.

In 1981, I made a nativity set, which I entered into the New Mexico State Fair. I got an honorable mention ribbon on that. I really was proud of myself. I made a set for my grandmother, my maternal grandmother who taught me. She loved it very much and she gave me a special stone to make the black paint on. It's a hematite stone that you grind, and you add bee weed juices to it as a stabilizer because the hematite stone is very chalky, and you need something to stabilize it as you are painting the pottery.

I think I entered my first Indian Market, the famous Indian Market in Santa Fe, in 1982. I received an award, a second‑place award on a piece of... well it was a storyteller, a female storyteller with 12 children on there. I got a second‑place award on it and from there on I did the Santa Fe Indian Market every year and have, to this day, gotten an award every year.

I've done many shows, various shows like the Eight Northern and the Gallup Ceremonial and little shows at certain pueblos.

I really enjoy my art, because it gives me pleasure to pass on the art to my younger children, my grandchildren. My other sisters, I keep encouraging them to use the natural clays and colors on their pots, and have our grandchildren and other nieces and nephews try to carry on that tradition.

To me, being an artist with clay, gives me great pleasure. It gives me the opportunity to carry on the tradition, which at Acoma is sort of being lost, because there's so much greenware floating around now. There's too much greenware, and I wish a lot of people would go back to the traditional ways. But, I think that the reason that they're going on to the greenware is because it's so hard to collect the clay. It's getting more dangerous and more scarce.

The clay is hard to mine. My husband and I do the mining. We do the processing. He does all the grinding and sifting and collects my clays, sandstone that we use for color.

I use the electric kiln now because a lot of the pieces—well my figurines have a lot of little ladybugs, butterflies, and they were getting knocked off during the firing. To me, it was sort of hard to let them go, because a lot of pieces were being broken. So, that's my main reason for going to the electric kiln. I think 90 percent of the people around here do use electric kilns, and I see no harm in that.

I know a pot would be more valued if it was fired in the traditional way, and that's my main goal now, is to try to do everything traditional. I want to be able to collect the cow dung. I want to fire just as my grandmother taught me. I would like to try that, and I'm still experimenting as to how I can make a special place where I can do my firing. I want to build something or make it like… so that I can be able to fire and know that my work is not going to be destroyed in the firing.

Since they built the new Acoma Visitors Cultural Center, I do show my work there at least five days a week, and that's where you'll find me most of the time, if not at the shows. I really love the way they set up the place to where we can show our work and we can even actually do demonstrations there.

I just want people to know that everything is natural. That is the main thing that I would like for people to see. That there is a lot of natural colors out there, you just have to search, collect, experiment with them. The only thing I regret doing is the kiln firing. But, like I said, I'm working on that to where I can actually do the traditional firing.

Where would you get the cow dung?

Locally. There's a lot of cattle around here, so we pick the cow dung around here and use that as fuel. It takes anywhere from 30 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on how big of a dome you make.

So, when you make the pot, you fire it and then you decorate it, do you fire it again after decorating it, after painting it?

That's the last stage. Firing is the last stage. You paint it and then fire it.

So, it's one firing?

One firing.

OK. Do you remember, back when you were learning from your grandma, where would she be teaching you and what would you be talking about?

The main purpose of us coming and living with her during the summer months was to help her with her cooking and cleaning. After we did our chores, then we had the clay handed to us and says, "Well, you can get your hands in this clay. Whatever you form, whatever you make, I'll sell it for you." That's what she said. "I'll save your money so you can buy your school clothing with it." So that's exactly what we did. She would teach us. She would talk to me as to how to pack the clay: "Make sure you don't have any air bubbles in there"; how to form them: that you pinch here or you use your thumbs.

She says, "Eventually, you can feel everything with your fingers." I know exactly what she means now, because, when you're forming a pot, you know exactly where to emphasize the gourd that you use. You know how much pressure to put on there, you know exactly when to pull the pot, you know exactly how much pressure to put on your figurines, just different things. You can feel it all in your hands. My hands are so special to me.

Obviously.

Yes, and my eyes.

What were some of the first pieces you made, do you remember?

I made little animals, little birds, little skunks, little turtles. Those were my first pieces. And little hats. I made a lot of little piggy banks, so those were my first pieces.

The piggy banks were they animals or...?

They were hats. [laughs]

What kind of hats?

Like a baseball hat, because you could make the piece flat and form a dome shape and put it on there. I would make little lines on there, a little thing on the top. Those were my first pieces, and a lot of animals. My grandmother made a lot of little owls. I couldn't make owls, and she made a lot of little skunks, so I made a lot of little skunks. I made a lot of little turtles, birds.

You still have a lot of animals...

Yes.

...on the storytellers and other pots that you make, I see birds and dogs and kitties. Lots of butterflies.

Yes, I just love the little animals. They remind me of my childhood. The friendship bowl is where I like to put my little animals. We used to collect rainwater after it rained, and all our dogs would follow us, there would be a lot of birds. The guys would go bird hunting. So, that's where I picked up the idea for the friendship bowl. It reminded me of a water cistern where we'd get rainwater for household use. Now, it's not really used for drinking anymore, it's just used for washing dishes and washing clothes. That's what the friendship bowl reminds me of and that's where I picked up the idea.

The little plates are the little shallow caves. We have many shallow caves around here. That's what the plate represents. My drums represent, to me, the heartbeat and also an Indian circle of life. So that's what the drums represent.

Then, my turtles represent longevity, and also the six directions‑‑the feet are north, east, south, west, head is up, tail is down. The Natives pray in all six directions. So that's what the turtle represents.

When did you start making the storytellers?

Back in 1979.

How did you come up with that idea? What was your influence for that?

I used to admire all the little animals my grandmother made and I couldn't do that. I couldn't form pottery. I don't know for what reason, but I made a little man, a little figurine. And from there on, I made figures. I couldn't do pots so I stuck with figures and I stuck with animals and that's been what I do best. [laughs] I can't do large pots. I tried to do… My largest piece was about maybe eight inches. And that's about my largest pot, but I do try to make something larger.

Well, your storytellers are much larger.

Yes, I was asked to do a large piece for the cultural center here at Acoma and you'll find my largest male storyteller there. It has large figurines on it and it's sitting on a chair which my husband built for me. They gave me this little niche to work on. It's so narrow, but it's tall. So I had to figure out what kind of storyteller I could put in there because a lot of my storytellers sit flat on their legs. I had to figure out how to get one to fit in that little certain space. My husband says, "Well, I'll build you one that can sit." And, he built my chair and from there on, I figured out how to make it. [laughs] It was a challenge, but I did the best that I could.

They're very playful. What do you think of when you're forming the faces? Where do you get the ideas?

I always try to figure or think of what they might be thinking. Like I'm trying to catch this cat, or this butterfly is beautiful. Or, I try to think of what the mother is trying to tell the children. This pot is to collect rain, or to use as a storage jar, or it could be a canteen that she's holding and she's telling the story about. Because everything is passed on orally here at Acoma. I think the storytellers are more like oral tradition that we're trying to express to people is to say that everything is passed on orally.

This one over here is holding a pot with a bird on it and it has cats and kids climbing up it and birds sitting there, what's the story she's thinking of?

She's telling them that the storage jar is there for… The pot she's holding is a storage jar, which can be used for water or food. The headdress that she has on her head represents a cloud. This actually is a headdress that would be worn during a harvest dance.

And the designs, the geometric designs, that are on the pots and also on your storytellers, where do those come from?

The parrot design has been here since I can remember. My grandmother painted them and she says they represented prosperity because the parrot feathers were highly sought after when the Spaniards came along. They used to trade for the beautiful parrot feathers which were used in religious doings. That's where they honored the parrot and that's the story she gave me. The rainbow has something to do with the parrot. I'm not really sure about why the rainbow is always painted along with the parrot. A lot of the colors that I use, I, personally, put meaning into them like the green will represent vegetation, the yellow will represent corn, the red will represent the earth, the orange always represent the sun, the black represents the clouds, and any lines you see represent rain. The gray represents the sky. The beige will represent the Pueblo homes.

Acoma is very well known for their three basic colors, the white, black and orange. I just got tired of painting my storytellers with the three colors and I needed color in them. So, my husband and I went out, and my sisters and I went out to collect the different colors of clay and sandstone and we experimented with them.

In about nine years, we came up with about at least a dozen colors. So that's what I use on all my figures and my pottery. I think we're the only family that has that many colors that are natural.

You find them on Acoma lands?

Yes. All the colors.

When you're looking for clay or you're looking for colors for the slips, you're eyes are trained to look, what are you looking for in the ground? What indicates that you'll find something useful?

Basically, just color. We've experimented with so many sandstones to where it'll burn off when you paint it on the pot. The whole color will peel off and some will turn a totally different shade of color than you expected.

You mix the sandstone with...?

Just water.

With water, but you said you grind up some old pottery shards?

Oh yeah, that's the clay to make the pottery with.

Oh to make the actual pottery?

Yes.

But for the colors, it's the sandstone and...?

Water.

Is it all sandstone or some of it...?

Some of it is clay, clay and sandstone.

Then what do you paint your designs with?

I use the regular commercial brushes. A lot of people still use the yucca, but somehow I prefer to use the regular commercial brushes.

When you're making your pots, what are you thinking about? What are you feeling? It's a quiet time to make pots.

That's about the best time for me. I think of nothing, but making the piece. I take great pleasure in making my pottery because I don't worry about anything. But then, after I make the piece, it's like I feel guilty because people are out there working, doing labor work. While I'm making my piece, I didn't even think of other people and how hard it is to make a living.

I have so much pleasure in doing my work, I almost feel guilty. I just feel so blessed to have this talent and to be able to support my family and not have to have set hours or to have a boss. I just get up and start making whatever I want. I can take off a few days and not feel guilty about it and it's just been a blessing for me to have this kind of talent.

Are you passing it or teaching it to anybody? Do you have anybody learning from you?

I have two grandsons. I wish I had a granddaughter, but they've taken interest in it. They make butterflies. They make butterfly pendants. They paint ornaments. I have one daughter who took interest for a while, but she's gone and she's in her own world. Her emphasis is on her job. And my son, too, he is an electrician. They do their own jobs. My son started forming little figures, but just never really took it very seriously.

Yeah, my husband has really been a great help to me in making the clay. He's gone to get the clay. I don't have to do that anymore. Before, I did everything from start to finish, but he's been a blessing to me. He's collected my clay. He’s ground my clay, sifted my clay, done everything—all the processing. The only thing I do is to the work after he makes my clay—which is molding, painting. But it's been a great help. We collaborate in that way.

Did he come from a family that also had potters in it?

His sister is also well known for her little figurines. But he didn't grow up with her to— where he saw the pottery being made every day until he married me. [laughs]

So, you had to train him?

Yeah.

Well, that's wonderful. Is there anything else you'd like to tell people about pottery or its meaning for you?

I just like to carry the art of pottery because it means so much to hold on to traditional ways and not to let that part of the tradition die out because a lot of our language has died out. I don't want the tradition of pottery making to die out. It's like I said, a lot of people have gone to greenware. And I wish people would try to make pottery with their own hand. And a long time ago they said that the Spaniards came looking for gold and little did they know that our traditional clay was the gold. And that's how I like to look at it. Is that— all that glitters is not gold. [laughs]

The clay that they bypassed is so precious to us as Acoma people. I just would like for the tradition to carry on. I would like to have more young artists. There’s very many artists out there who can paint very well, but they do it on the commercial pots. I feel that it's a wasted art and I wish people would mold their own pots and make their own pots.

We have certain pottery classes that go on, but not very many people take interest in it and I'm not sure why. But I'm just blessed to have been raised and have been taught at a young age as to how to process the clay and collect the materials. I think, maybe, that's another reason why people don't carry on the traditional way of molding and making the clay and grinding your own paint, it’s because nobody taught them.

My sisters and I were thinking about it about a year ago saying we need to introduce the art to the newer generation, to our young children, our grandchildren, so it can carry on.

What's the Acoma word in your language for pottery or clay or pots?

Duu’ni. Do, like do something. Duu’ni

Duu’ni. And that means?

Pottery.

And what's the word for clay?

M’ii tsi.

That's nice. Well, thank you very much.