Mescalero Apache artist Oliver Enjady assembles portfolio of new work

• Enjady will be displaying his work and less serious pieces on the ceremonial grounds during the Fourth of July celebration

The art of Mescalero Apache Oilver Enjady hangs in galleries, museums and private collections. But what many admirers of his artwork don’t know is that for nearly a decade, he’s struggled to regain his emotional footing after the death of one of his sons.

“I lost my son due to suicide and he was one of my critics, someone I would turn to and ask what he thought”, Enjady said during a recent interview as he prepare a portfolio of work to show during the July 4th celebration at the Mescalero ceremonial grounds. “He would walk by and take a peak or stand there and say things. After he left, I still felt that presence and I couldn’t paint. It was quite a journey staying busy with other things.”

Those other things included becoming director of the tribal language program, “for which I feel grateful, because I needed to be busy with something else to stay sane.”

He participated in the PBS “We Shall Remain” series as  a consultant and on-screen actor, and did the same on the Ron Howard film “Cowboys and Aliens.” He was involved in some music videos and television documentary series.

“I feel I’ve been blessed with all these experiences, always something new,” he said.

Although he didn’t walk completely away from art in the interim, only in the last year has Enjady produced his art with intensity, seeking to inject some of those new experiences while intertwining old symbols, stories and songs.

“I really don’t know how things started to rehappen,” he said. “Doodling maybe and playing with things, painting different things, even rocks. slowly getting back into it. A commission from the (tribal attorney) John Wheeler office in Alamogordo played a big part.  That was for a benefit involving the First National Bank in Alamogordo.”

Over time, he came to accept his son’s death and the certainty that he would want his father to keep on painting.

“It’s been a real personal journey,” Enjady said.

He characterized his previous style as more formal with flat strokes and representational.

“I’m in a place now where I play with a lot of textures, layering colors,” he said. “I guess as an artist I really believe an artist doesn’t stay in one place, because it is a safe place. I feel I’m still tapping into some of the thoughts and songs about life. I might be driving down the street and see something and say, ‘Oh wow, a color, a design.’

“I use palette knife, I use paper towels, newspaper, my hands. One of the paintings I’m working on now, the background is all done with the palms of my hands. It is more with tools than paint brushes, except for the details.”

He’s traveled and gained new concepts through photographs and magazines, Enjady said, adding, “You can go a lot of places without going anywhere. It’s about content. both mental and physical expression.”

Acrylic remains his medium of choice.

“I feel like when I start going and have to wait for oil to dry, sometimes I just want to keep on moving,” he said. “Acrylic dries quicker, sometimes not quick enough and I use a hairdryer. I work quickly and then I revisit. I lay down basic background colors, or concept and design, and then revisit. Right now, I have three paintings going from a big one to a small one. I kind of like that. I jump from point A to B and C, and then back to A. I may find a color I think would look good on others.”

He will paint on nearly anything that strikes his interest, a basketball for the Mescalero Warriors team to carry as they enter the court, a guitar celebrating the Marines, a stone. His question always is, “Can I do something with that?”

Art played an important role in his life as early as elementary school. His father was an artist, but more as a hobby. They would paint together.

He was good at it. Back in those days, we didn’t have electricity and you had a kerosene lamp and it attracted you to the table,” Enjady said. “We would sit there and draw, especially about horses. He was a calf roper and liked quarter horses. I pointed out to him the Apache he was drawing were on quarter horses and they didn’t have them. He said, ‘Son, they stole them. As an artist, as long as you can defend what you are doing, the journey is open and endless.’”

Although he sold his first painting at an early age for $20, he wasn’t sure at what point he could call himself an artist. Everything is open to interpretation.

“People may consider my stuff right now is contemporary and I could say based on what, because I still tell the traditional stories and the songs are in there, my journeys are still in there,” Enjady said. “The concept is tricky sometimes. I live it , I dream it, ideas come in dreams, stories or deep thoughts. A couple of days ago, I woke up at 4:30 a.m., wrote it down and hoped the next morning it would be a real idea.”

He tries to lay down color and do something on a piece of art every day.

“It’s a drive now, because there still are so many ideas to tackle yet,” he said. “How good I get at that, I don’t know. I have to lay that red down to see if it will work. We’ve got to challenge that canvas, that rock, with new creative approaches.”

Some of Enjady’s new pieces include:

“The Protectors,” depicting three warriors as the “wall” surrounding the tribe.

“The Eclipse,” based on a video his son showed hmi. “I looked at it, walked back in and pulled out (a canvas) and started painting and just kept going and end up with this. I tell people this is what I saw instead of just a dark spot and circle, there were a lot of other things happening there around it and in it that people don’t see.”

“Apache Coming Down Main Street,” a 5x7 commissioned piece now in the office of John Wheeler, one of Enjady’s major collectors. “The idea is, what is the Apache – the truck, the driver, the dog?”

“The Day Mother Earth Shook,” which hangs in the Hurd Museum. “It has to do with the cancer we’re dealing with, all the little things make cancer cells. That’s how they look. Apache territory on July 15, 1945, the atomic bomb explosion, looking toward Mescalero Peak that way. Talking about getting daylight. It’s a real special piece, because I lost my mother to cancer and I’m still losing relatives. People were saying don’t drink the water, don’t touch anything. Somehow the people knew what it was.”