Umóⁿhóⁿ, the name the Omahas called themselves, means “those going against the current” or “Upstream People.” The Umóⁿhóⁿ name tells the story of how they broke away from a larger group by traveling up the Missouri or Mississippi Rivers, or both. Umóⁿhóⁿ is the name of one of the Indigenous Nations encountered by Prince Maximillian of Weid and Karl Bodmer in their travels upstream on the Missouri River in 1833. While both men had already met a few American Indians on their initial journey upriver from St. Louis, meeting with the Umóⁿhóⁿ gave Bodmer another opportunity to meet and sketch a couple more. Much has already been written about their travels into the interior of North America and Bodmer’s role in recording their meeting with “the Indians.” What is less discussed is how the remarkable and enduring watercolors by Karl Bodmer have provided a window of rediscovery and reconnection to the past through the depiction of various individuals within each of the Native Nations they met. Rich in color, detail, and representation, the portraits provide the means for contemporary Indigenous scholars, students, researchers, and especially tribal community citizens to reaffirm their own tribal identities. Through the realism of the portraits, one quickly realizes that these are real people from the past. For Native American viewers, peering through the lens of time, as captured and represented by the Bodmer watercolors, there is a strong sense of cultural revitalization.

While the portraits reflect individuals who lived, breathed, and performed the routine actions of their daily lives, they tell us less about how they lived, and how they viewed their world and interacted with it. The languages, cultural practices, and traditions of these Nations were beyond the capabilities of artists like Karl Bodmer and George Catlin to describe and explain. Yet, both artists still managed to convey the cultural complexity of each of the Nations they portrayed, and their paintings tell us of a time long past. If we allow the portraits and landscapes to speak for themselves, we miss the depth and breadth of the sophisticated world views of Native America. While no two Nations can be said to be the same, Western colonial thought maintains the perception that they were “savage”, “primitive”, and “uncivilized.” How wrong they were then, and how wrong they are now. Even the prince and Bodmer felt an urgent need to capture what they thought was a world in passing; that civilization would soon be upon them, changing them forever. Nevertheless, the portraits reflect the complexity and beauty of each Nation’s cultural expressions of dignity, self-worth, and gravitas. After all, these were indeed, peoples of those Nations.

As an Omaha, a citizen of the Omaha Nation that once owned the very land that the Joslyn Art Museum now resides upon, the two watercolors called Omaha Boy and Omaha Man interest me for several reasons. They are compelling not just because of Bodmer’s colorful detail of these two Umóⁿhóⁿ people, but because of their respective poses and stance. In looking at and studying these portraits, it is amazing to realize that both lived in 1833. In the case of the little boy, he had parents; in all likelihood, siblings, grandparents, and other loving relatives. He was no orphan. One has to wonder what kind of world all these people lived in. What was their language, how did it sound, and what were their customs and traditions? These are only some of the questions that come to mind when looking at Omaha Boy and Omaha Man. Each painting – and each Umóⁿhóⁿ person – has a story to tell.

However, we must interpret them in the historical and cultural context of their time. When the Prince and Karl Bodmer began their upriver journey in 1833, the Umóⁿhóⁿ had signed only one treaty. It was a “friendship” treaty, forced by the United States on all the Nations who lived, grew gardens, and hunted in and around what is now known as the Des Moines River. The Umóⁿhóⁿ called it the Raccoon River and the area was one of their favorite hunting grounds. The area that many Nations called “home” is now the state of Iowa. The “friendship” treaty was signed by the Umóⁿhóⁿ in 1830 as well by Ioway, Sauk, Meskwaki, Otoe, Missouria, and Dakota Nations. With the prince and Karl Bodmer sailing up the Missouri, the treaty was only three years old. Therefore, one can safely conclude that the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy had already been born shortly before the treaty. Guessing his age, at the time of the portrait, he could be around six or seven years old.

Looking at his clothing and the way he was dressed, it would be safe to say he was wearing his very best. His parents must have felt extra special to have his portrait painted and, like parents everywhere, would have wanted him to wear his finest. His face is carefully painted in red, probably in a manner required by his clan. His hair is carefully groomed. Many today want to assign his haircut to a particular clan or gens. However, this style of cut does not match any of the portrayals as shown and described in 1911 by the Umóⁿhóⁿ ethnologist Francis La Flesche and Alice C. Fletcher in their seminal publication, The Omaha Tribe.(1) As painted by Bodmer, it may have been an earlier style modified over time so that it was not reflected in the Report. The top of his head is bound up in an ah’sku; that part of the head serves to hold decorative head dressings beyond the feather that he wears in this portrait. This feather, according to Umóⁿhóⁿ traditions, is known as híʰbéʰ and is male in character. The family shows off their wealth by the many metal earrings hanging from the boy’s ears, and the metal bracelet on his chubby arm completes his appearance. The many folds of the buffalo hide in which he is wrapped tell us that it is soft, pliable, and very warm. It was likely made especially for him. Beyond his pampered appearance, his pose stands out. Young as he is, his stance is straight and proud, and he gazes forward.

This young Umóⁿhóⁿ boy reflects his culture, particularly an old tradition described by La Flesche called the “Turning of the Child”: when a child begins to take their first steps, growing from infancy to becoming more independent, the parents take the child to a member of a group within the larger Iⁿ’shtah’cuⁿdé (Flashing Eyes) clan who has the responsibility of conducting the ceremony. This subclan member is tasked with “turning” the child, that is, making them walk on their own and giving them a name by which the People will now acknowledge them. This ceremony introduces the child to the tribe.(2) Much preparation goes into the Turning of the Child ceremony, which occurs during the Spring. One of the most significant actions of the entire ceremony is literally, turning the child upon a large rock in all 4 directions, accompanied by specific prayers. In addition, the child hands a pair of newly made moccasins to the man conducting the ceremony. Until that point, the child likely wore moccasins that had a large hole in the sole. Because the child had not yet walked on their own, these holes were symbolic, rather than evidence of wear. This is a brief description of the living culture and traditions from which the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy came forth to be portrayed. This is the backdrop from which he came. For the majority of the people who are fortunate to see this portrait, they now have a small window through which to “see” the boy and a slice of the world he lived in. He is not just he is not just a curious object, but a flesh-and-blood child, but a real flesh-and-blood child who lived and breathed and walked the same earth as Prince Maxmillian and Karl Bodmer.

The second portrait, Omaha Man, is equally worthy of an in-depth look. The man appears to be in stark contrast to the confident posture and eager look of the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy. Rather than looking forward, he carries an air of deep sadness and despair. His hair hangs loosely and in no particular manner. His striped blanket is bundled up closely around his shoulder, again, with no particular attention to how it drapes about his body. While left somewhat unfinished by Bodmer, the charcoaled outlines of his leggings, moccasins, and even the finishing of the blanket give an indication of what the completed painting might have looked like. As one looks closely, one notices, albeit barely, a bow in his left hand. A quiver full of arrows sits on his upper left shoulder. It may seem sufficient to consider these details as simply interesting. However, like the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy, the man too, follows the culture and tradition of his time. If one looks closely at his face, his stare is vacant, his eyes appear to be rubbed with ash, and the red is likely the result of scarification. This man is clearly exhibiting great grief and has lost someone near and dear to his heart. It could be a wife, perhaps a beloved child, maybe an aged parent. He is on full display to everyone announcing his state of mind and emotions.

According to La Flesche, Umóⁿhóⁿ men would sometimes go on a mourning war as a relief from grief. Such a man would be among the first to join a war party and, if he had lost a child, would take a pair of the child’s moccasins with him. Upon the killing of an enemy, the mourning warrior would place the moccasins on his dead body, so that the person he just killed would join, protect, and guide the deceased child to join his other deceased relatives in the spirit world.(3) Bodmer’s painting shows such a mourning, grieving man. His manner reflects his current attitude: a lack of care for whether he returns home safely or not.

While it is obvious that the Umóⁿhóⁿ man willingly stood for the portrait, it is nevertheless a sobering juxtaposition to the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy. Both subjects have sometimes been described as being from the same family, stating that the man was the father to the boy. However, this writer begs to differ. First of all, it is doubtful that anyone who believes this knows much about the culture of the Umóⁿhóⁿ, either at the time or at present. Even this writer has to acknowledge that much of the information about the traditional culture of the Umóⁿhóⁿ was passed on by Francis La Flesche and Alice C. Fletcher. The culture, lifeways, and belief system, have changed dramatically, due to more than a century and half of extreme suffering along with the awful experiences of federal boarding schools. Not much of the traditional culture and life-ways remains. Yet, the Umóⁿhóⁿ of today do live a distinct culture. Although quite changed, the culture endures and serves the People well. Nowadays, the Turning of the Child is no longer practiced, nor are the songs sung. It was already a memory during La Flesche’s time. As an adaptation today, families go all out for a child’s birthday, with much celebration and gift-giving taking place. The whole community is often invited to participate. While there are no more intertribal conflicts using bows and arrows in which a grieving father could go on a mourning war, other ways are practiced. One of these is to allow the grieving person or family time to heal by withdrawing from all social activities. It is understood that their absence is due to grief.
Cultures change. However, human emotions do not. One cannot mimic or hide grief readily, even for a portrait. If the man is mourning, his whole family is also mourning. He is not isolated. To depart from this, or just to dress up his son for a portrait, would simply not happen. The Umóⁿhóⁿ lived in close proximity to each other. The entire Nation would be aghast by such an act which would cause great censure for him and his family. Proper behavior and decorum was foremost in most peoples’ minds. No, the Umóⁿhóⁿ man is not the Umóⁿhóⁿ boy’s father. Unless research uncovers more information, the writer stands by this conclusion. As one looks closely at both portraits, perhaps they can finally be seen in the context of their culture, traditions, and time. To now see them as real people lends depth and meaning to who they were. To do so is also to confirm and recognize the talent of the man who painted them, Karl Bodmer.