Nora Naranjo Morse

Creating Families

It has been said that Pueblo potters think of their vessels as children—children who have been created by loving hands and nurtured to completion. As a mother of fraternal twins, I am drawn to objects created in pairs. I like things that look similar but upon closer inspection are different.

When I first saw Martina Vigil and Florentino Montoya’s clay vessels, I thought of my children, Eliza and Zak. At first glance, when Martina and Florentino’s vessels are sitting side by side, their shape and design elements look alike. Look closer, and you will see that the widest part of the pot on this page is formed differently. This vessel pauses at the midriff with a few more coils before climbing toward the neck. The opening is wider and, because of that, so is the lid. It seems sturdy, masculine. The other vessel is elegantly feminine, with fluid curves that dip dramatically at the pot’s neck, forming a smaller mouth. Even the handles on the lids are formed differently. These are subtle differences that beg the question, which vessel was made first? Another question: who made the vessels?

Clay collaboration is familiar to Pueblo families. My parents occasionally collaborated on pottery. My mother was the one who coiled vessels, while my father gathered materials. In the evenings we sat at our kitchen table, my dad painting designs on pottery while my mother burnished vessels with a river stone. Many nights passed with clay-making, gossip, and storytelling; it was a time for family. As a kid, I felt secure and warm witnessing the flow of creativity between others. Maybe Martina and Florentino had similar nights of clay work with their family. Whatever the setting, the creative exchange between the couple resulted in vessels that are visually powerful because of each other. And yet, they are different.

Recently I saw a black-and-white image of Florentino Montoya. In the picture he looks fifty. He was painting designs on a vessel. I thought of my dad.