‘Bob Haozous: A Retrospective View,’ installation view at the Heard Museum in Phoenix.
Heard Museum
Listen to Bob Haozous (Warm Springs Chiricahua Apache; b. 1943) talk and you’d be forgiven for thinking his provocative, contrary opinions, fired off one after the other, indicates–now past 80, his artistic legacy secure–that he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him. Doesn’t care what the art world or art market or peers think about him.
He cares.
Deeply.
Not about the art market or what people are or aren’t saying about him, but the big things: racism, individualism, Westernization, colonization, capitalism, the planet.
He cares too much about those things to pull punches. To sugarcoat his perspective in order to make nice and be invited to galas.
The first line of Haozous’ artist statement reads, “I am not convinced that Indian bloodlines or tribal number can make someone Indian.”
Bob Haozous, unfiltered.
“Native people is not a genetic thing, it’s people that care about the environment, as all people should; that’s highly idealistic, but I’m an artist,” Haozous told Forbes.com. “Chief Oren Lyons told me, ‘the difference between a white man and a Native person is the white man believes in man’s laws, and a Native person lives by nature’s laws.’”
Such was the case when Haozous tried collaborating with a Norwegian artist. The two reached an impasse.
“Can’t we discuss certain issues because we’re dealing with common sense,” Haozous remembers asking his counterpart. “He said, ‘Your common sense is different than my common sense.’ It’s such an American or Western answer, but if you go back to nature’s laws and indigenous understanding, we all have the same basis, that is the laws of nature.”
The Norwegian artist’s response recalls what has become a popular idea in America: alternative facts. The fallacious notion that truth is in the eye of the beholder. Haozous knows facts are facts and their basis comes from the laws of nature. He’s not going to suffer fools who believe otherwise.
Doing so has resulted in his artwork being branded “political.” Categorization he contests.
“Political, that’s what America calls anybody who does something contrary,” Haozous said. “(My artwork’s) not political at all.”
Haozous’ artwork calling out racism, the U.S. federal government stealing Indian land, the abuses suffered by Native children as a result of the Indian boarding schools, or America’s and capitalism’s destruction of the planet are not politically motivated. He’s not running for office or trying to influence polling on ballot measures. He’s commenting on history, on lived experience, on nature’s laws, on the truth. Not his truth, the truth.
Haozous’ artwork isn’t concerned with politics, it’s concerned with humanity, with society, with the planet.
“My message has to go beyond the politics of whatever country or whatever people and go back to our responsibility to nature,” he said.
See for yourself during “Bob Haozous: A Retrospective View,” on view through November 30, 2025, at the Heard Museum in Phoenix. The show marks his first major retrospective, proof he’s been considered too hot to handle. The Heard’s presentation shows off six decades of work in painting, sculpture, jewelry, and prints.
The Great Allan Houser
Bob Haozous (Warm Springs Chiracahua Apache, b. 1943). ‘Grandfather’s Vision,’ 1978. African Wonderstone, quartz 15 ¾ x 10 ½ x 6 in.
Collection of Corinne Cain
Bob Haozous is the son of Allan Houser (Chiricahua Apache; 1914–1994). Houser is the most prominent Native American sculptor ever and one of the most prominent Native artists regardless of medium. A legend in American art, not just Native American art. If the average American has seen a sculpture by a Native person, odds are, it’s an Allan Houser sculpture.
Haozous will take on the world, but not his father’s legacy.
“It’s never been an issue,” Haozous said of the shadow cast by his father, how every interview or story about his work, inevitably, at some point includes Houser. “We worked in a studio side by side for six to eight years, 10 years, something like that; there was never any problem, ever.”
In addition to being a celebrated artist, Houser was a legendary arts teacher, most notably one of the original professors at the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, NM.
“He worked with younger people. I was a younger person to him, and he realized that I had something to say, so he let me speak without interrupting,” Haozous said. “Maybe once in a while he gave me technical advice, not much, because I had already been through college. I had my own experiences. He did what he did, and I did what I did, and he obviously knew that I respected him or we couldn’t share the studio. I don’t feel any of what you would assume would be a competition or challenge or restriction for him; he opened the door for me.”
What son learned from father surpassed atmospheric perspective or how best to model hands.
“The way he treated people, the way he loved all Native people and all tribes,” Haozous remembers about his father. “We never talked about art. We didn’t discuss art ever.”
The difference in their last names stems from a common mid-20th century practice among Native American families.
“I went to first grade and I came back and my parents told me, ‘You’re now a Houser,’” Haozous explained. “(My grandfather) took me aside privately and said, ‘You’ll always be a Haozous.’ He guided me in a lot of ways.”
Pay particular attention to Grandfather’s Vision (1978) in the Heard’s exhibition.
Myths Of Native America
Bob Haozous (Warm Springs Chiricahua Apache, b. 1943), ‘Sleeping Warrior,’ 1975. Colorado pink alabaster 5.5 x 13.5 x 6. Gift of Dr. Edwin L. Wade and Carol Haralson, 4721-1.
Heard Museum
Despite the weight of Haozous’ subject matter, the artist routinely uses humor, satire, and irony to express his feelings.
“Humor is a wonderful tool. I grew up with Indian humor. I’ve been criticized for it because it can be harsh,” he said. “I’ve given a lot of thought to what’s the purpose of humor. In America, it’s on a superficial, yuk, yuk, level, where it makes you laugh, but in an indigenous world, it can be very serious. I use (humor) as a tool to stimulate people to think; if they’re laughing, they’re thinking, that’s the way I look at it.”
White people mythologizing Native Americans as stoic–the “stoic Indian,” strong and silent–has done Native people a great disservice. Colonization loves the silent Indian, not the activist Indian. Taking away Native peoples’ humor dehumanizes them, takes their personality away, makes them easier to abuse.
“They did a film with my father, and after (the producers) were gone, they said, ‘What did we miss?’ I said you missed his humor,” Haozous remembers. “They looked at me like, ‘What do you mean?’ They didn’t understand the depth of humor or the depth of Allan Hauser. He and the family were always joking and laughing.”
Haozous calls out other myths put on Native people.
“(The white man) told us, this is our land. You could fight for it. You’re great warriors. They eliminated the fact we were great family people, and we were great cooks, and we were great traders, and all kind of stuff that makes humanity what it is,” he said. “They focused us on war because they knew they could use us in war, and we did it, and now it’s a very honorable thing to say I have this medal or I went to some place, but at the same time, we come back with terms like ‘sand (racial slur deleted),’ and ‘slope,’ and ‘zipper head,’ and stuff like that; our men are saying those things. Why is that? Because we’ve never had a chance to get a decent education that comes from our culture.”
Haozous served four years in the U.S. Navy during the Vietnam War. He’s among the numerous highly respected Native artists to have done so including T.C. Cannon, Doug Hyde, and Michael Naranjo.
American Indians and Alaska Natives serve in the Armed Forces at five times the national average.
“A lot of things I’m saying now are finally taking root in other people. Everybody should have been talking about this from the beginning, what the boarding schools did to the education system of indigenous people, but we didn’t,” Haozous said. “We’re finally standing up, but we’re only standing up because we got a token now, sovereignty and the ability to open casinos. What’s that have to do with the environment? What’s that have to do with our own people? Now we’ve become slaves to money. That’s why (Native artists) want so much to go to the National Gallery (of Art) or the Smithsonian, they want the prestige because it means money for the individual.”
Haozous is perfectly willing to criticize Native people along with whites.
“One of the things (Native artists) did that was disturbing to me, they were focusing on the individual rather than the people, and that individualism is contrary to tribalism,” he said. “You get money, you get awards, you get ribbons, you get prestige, you get grants, even honorary doctorates. What’s that have to do with your people? It just feels good. It looks good. It’s supposed to be an honor, but is it really an honor, or is it just a token?”
How does Haozous’ artwork help his people? How does it help the planet?
He offers this analogy.
“If there is a bus full of people, like the world, the Native people have been put into the back deck of the bus, and we’re riding in it and getting a free ride too, but we should be driving the bus, and that’s the thing that we’ve had taken from us, this responsibility to nature,” he explained. “The only way to drive the bus is by getting the rest of the passengers to understand what we’re trying to and where we’re going and that’s what art can do.”
Bob Haozous’ artwork can also be seen at the Wheelwright Museum of the American Indian in Santa Fe through January 10, 2026, during the exhibition, “Memo to the Mother: Bob Haozous’ Messages to Mother Earth.”
A deeper immersion into the life and work of Houser and Haozous can further be experienced walking among the sculptures and juniper at the Allan Houser Studio & Sculpture Garden at Haozous Place. Private visits to the sun baked property 20 miles south of the Santa Fe Plaza just off Highway 14–the Turquoise Trail–can be arranged online.
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