A Touch of Genius
By Patricia Millman
This blind artist sees with his hands and creates beautiful sculptures. This story will help students learn about dealing with and overcoming disabilities.
Michael Naranjo is a Native American, a Vietnam War veteran, and, as he puts it, "a sculptor who happens to be blind." Behind this statement lies a remarkable story.
Michael grew up in the Tewa Indian pueblo of Santa Clara, New Mexico. As a boy, he roamed the scenic foothills west of the pueblo community and explored the Rio Grande, a river to the south and east. His world was enriched by the beautiful sights and sounds of the desert country.
Michael's love of sculpting was born at the pueblo, too. "My mother was a potter, and I would help her fix her clay," he recalls. "She gathered her clay in a place in the hills that only she knew about. Every potter has their own source of clay, and when they find that clay, they're very secretive about it.
"My mother would bring in the clay and screen it to get out anything that didn't belong, and then she would soak it in tubs. After that, she'd put the clay into a square of canvas cloth, and she'd sprinkle a different white kind of clay on top. Then she would fold this square of canvas and press on it this way and that way, and when she unfolded the canvas I could see this little log of clay inside."
"Then I would take off my shoes and perform a little dance with the clay. I would sidestep on this log of clay. I could feel the moist clay on the side of my foot and between my toes. And when I reached the other end, I'd step off the square of canvas, and she'd fold it and push it this way and that way and refold it, and I would have this little log of clay again. And once again I would perform my little dance."
Michael's dance served a very important purpose. He was blending the white clay and the brown clay to make it stronger. With this strong clay, his mother could make pots that would last a long time.
"That's probably how I started sculpting . . . playing with clay," Michael says. "Not long after that, I wanted to make figures of animals. And as they became more detailed, they became sculptures. So even way back then, I knew that what I wanted to do was be an artist someday."
Seeing with His Hands
Michael's goal would not be reached easily. While serving with the Army in Vietnam, Michael was badly wounded in battle. He lost his sight and partial use of one hand. For the first time, Michael wondered if he could ever be a sculptor.
One day, while recovering in the hospital, Michael asked if he could have a small piece of clay. From it he made an inchworm.
The next sculpture Michael made, an Indian on a horse, was so good it was photographed by the newspapers. Lucky thing! Because when Michael decided to make his next sculpture, he found that the hospital didn't have any more clay. So he reshaped the Indian on a horse into a bear with a fish in its mouth.
Today, Michael has lots of material to use to make his memories come to life. "I was able to see until I was 23 years old, so I have a very good idea of what most things look like," he said. "So I sit, and I think about it, and I get a picture in my mind. If you close your eyes and think of . . . well, if you have a cat or a dog, you can picture this pet. The same process happens with me.
"Once you have the material in your hand that you can mold and shape, then you can carry it over from your mind to your fingertips; and your mind tells your fingers, 'Make that bigger or smaller . . .' until this whole process slowly starts happening.
"Nowadays, when I make animals, I sit there and think about the days when I'd take a moment sitting on a cliff side and look down and see a deer down there or watch some turkeys walk through the forest. Or the time I followed a mountain stream and a deer stopped in this pool of water and looked at me with his huge, brown eyes. It lasted just a few moments, but it's one of those moments that I draw on for inspiration."
Michael inspires others by leading sculpture workshops for children and adults, veterans and seniors, both sighted and visually impaired.
In 1999, Michael was named the Outstanding Disabled Veteran of the Year and received the LIFE Presidential Unsung Hero Award.
His sculptures can be seen in museums and public buildings across the United States, in the Vatican, and in the White House.
A Special Fan
Many people like to collect Michael's work, but Michael fondly remembers one special young "collector."
"It was maybe 20 years ago at the Indian Market in Santa Fe. One day there was this little boy who came, and he was looking at my work, and I was telling him about it. Next year, he came back and said, 'I was here last year. Do you remember me?' And I said yes. He said, 'I want to buy that little buffalo.' And I said, 'OK.' I told him how much it was.
"As he paid for it, he said, 'I worked all last summer and this summer, and saved my money.' I had no words to describe the emotion I felt. I still can't describe what a moment like that feels like."
Does Michael have one piece of sculpture that is his very favorite? Could it be the buffalo from the Santa Fe Indian Market? Or the bear with a fish in its mouth?
"You know, it's the same as with children," Michael said. "If you have more than one, you love them all equally. That's how I feel about my sculptures."