Beyond the Shild of Oklahoma
He was cleaning his car that was parked next to the studio entrance, taking out a ripped jacket with paint spots on it, running shoes that had sponged mud supposedly a long time ago, and bags full of spray paints. In the background, a cargo train was stopping at the railway traffic lights, making a squeaky noise.
“Yatika Field’s Studio,” read the paper banner in the window.
Getting closer to the train, he broke the silence.
“I like to paint on them,” said Yatika Fields, with slightly amused and innocent eyes, but the smirk on his face spoke a better truth.
At that moment, he ran back to his studio, took black oily chalk, and headed to the train wagon. He was stretching those thin lines on the steel surface as much as he could. Distorted letters had sharp contours, but it was still hard to guess the word.
With a smile, he got closer and handed over the chalk. “Now you,” he said.
We both knew we were breaking the law. Criminal artist and criminal journalist wannabe. Great duo, right? But it felt more liberating than expected. He resembled a kid who chases the childish joy that comes after eating the forbidden fruit.
Although, at first sight, his strict posture, not much of a talkative personality, and eyes always gazing beyond you may not shout “rebel,” but his artistic preferences spoke louder than words.
“Even when he was little, he would come up with little quips that were deep,” said Anita, Field’s mother, recalling his rebellious character. “He has always been like that, searching for gaps in rules that were imposed on him.”
In his teen-ages, Fields and his classmates started researching their rights. In such a manner, they tried to raise awareness among other peers about what they, as kids, were allowed to do.
His resistance throughout the years would later transform into a unique way of artistic expression.
Besides the traditional canvas, his ideas evolved in the streets, reviving the unvarnished, drab facades into vivid stories of indigenous history and culture.
“I reclaim it,” said Fields while looking at his version of Osage shield painting - a wire fence over the buffalo skin shield with eagle feathers. In that moment, his eyes conveyed sadness.
“Oklahoma uses it as an emblem on its flag, but I think it is an artificial performance, and this is how I, as a native artist, reclaim it.”
One would say he owns that generational sadness and modifies it into a creative force.
His name, Yatika in Creek and Osage tribe languages, means a listener, interpreter. This definition echoes his character’s indigenous consciousness, in which running is his prayer, paintings - his shield, nature - his teacher, and ancestors – his spiritual guides. His practices let him absorb the environmental settings around him and then deliver them into his art.
“It is a discipline derived from my culture, and they are very similar,” said Fields about running and painting. “When I am in the studio, I am alone, and I paint. So, it is a discipline to stand there and paint. When I run, I run alone. And it also takes discipline to run 10 miles.”
That day he ran a half marathon in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
“I thought about my ancestors today,” said Fields. “Sometimes, you need to pull out all the cards that are going to keep you moving.”
But his approach to creative work is different and less painful. At the same time, he challenges and liberates himself from all external narratives, feeling the movement of the idea and following the flow of the lines on a canvas. In such a manner, Fields tries to leave an open room for the viewers as well.
“We all come from different stories,” he said. “And then when we look at the paintings, some of your memories pop up and remind you of your life.”
But besides the room for interpretation, Fields creates a communication channel between colors and a person. The mix of pastels and electric tones, with shades and highlights, effortlessly causes a medusa effect on an audience. It is easy to find a color of preference in his art that will tell you your version of the story.
“Color is very powerful. It will pull you and then do the rest,” he said. “It is almost like a drug. It directly goes into your bloodstream.”
Fields is not attached to his paintings; he usually learns something new from work and sets it free for others. So, it very much differs from his approach to the painting process.
“Painting is a living entity. If I treat it well, it will treat me well,” said Fields. “It is my best friend in life. It keeps me healthy, sane, and strong.”
His character is entangled with physical, mental, and spiritual wellness. It seems he is chasing after the feelings and experiences while being relatively silent and observant. But when it comes up to talking about his arts, the narrative and manners drastically change.
“Osage traditional ceremonies consist of many different activities, including dances, sharing a meal, and opening a conversation,” said Hayley, his girlfriend. “Once I saw how people express themselves, that reminded me of how he talks about his artwork and only artwork.”
Field’s mother was not surprised by his enthusiasm either. “He loves adventures and pushing himself, but he is chill,” she said laughing. “He has always been relaxed.”
His studio mirrored that calmness. But somehow, he knew where to find everything. The papers over papers, paintbrushes, squeezed oil color tubes, one wall loaded with spray paint and another one with a roof-reaching one-person canoe, wood cutting machine, spotted jeans, a shirt on a hanger next to a canoe, and the sun that comes down into the center of the studio.
“Sometimes, I wish he used to leave this massy character here at the studio,” said Hayley, giggling, checking the back, making sure he was not listening. “But then I think to myself that he might not be the person he is now, and I try not to mind.”
His recharging happens separately, in a distant setting where he can be completely alone, and whenever he feels overwhelmed with thoughts, he can have a personal space. Especially when it comes down to historical trauma, grief, and determination to transform anger.
“You need to be intelligent about your anger,” he said, adding that the toxicity consumes human power. “The damage has been done, and the only thing you can do is to analyze that it has made you stronger.”
The artistic and ideological union is a new concept for Tulsa. The cooperation among the Tulsa-based artists has been going on only for three years, but as Fields said, “the ties have never been closer before.”
He sits at the local radio station on Friday nights, plays indigenous music, and talks. Fields believes in an open conversation, and he invites all interested parties to get involved. He thinks this will set a standard for new generations and strengthen the core of the new beginning.
“It takes everyone doing different things, every day, at different capacities, and then we will be stronger,” said Fields. “Kids witnessing this will be the changemakers.”