Campbell Bishop
Parsons-trained, Taos-based fashion designer Josh Tafoya’s family history in the New Mexico community of Llano south of Taos stretches back at least 15 generations. Tafoya’s work refuses neat ethnic categorization, and instead plays with elements from all of his Indo-Hispano heritage. His designs range from sexy to serious, sometimes sardonic—and always tugging at something that feels particularly local. His materials of choice include discarded ranching supplies collected from a friend’s farm and oral traditions collected from his grandmother. As a modern designer speaking to the youth of this moment, Tafoya precisely mixes his inherited craft with an individual touch that comes from his own relationship to the land and to the fashion system. He’ll show as part of the newly minted Taos Abstract Artist Collective’s Inaugural Exhibition in Taos. This interview has been edited for clarity and concision.
SFR: How were you introduced to fiber?
Josh Tafoya: I got interested in fashion through high school. It was that emo/punky phase we all go through where you have to find skinny jeans and alter everything because nothing fits. Then I went to Parsons. I feel like fashion and design were in my blood because I adapted to them naturally. I learned fiber, textiles and techniques through a designer perspective on fashion. It wasn’t until five years ago that I got into weaving and found out that my family has a whole history. I got laid off from my job in New York, and I was taking time off from fashion, so I came back here. My friend recently moved back, too, and had bought some churro sheep, which are historically associated with Native American weaving. He started trying to get me into weaving, which I was hesitant to do. It was just too tedious. But eventually I started doing little samples. My family saw that, and they guided me—my parents’ sisters both did weaving. Then my mom told me about our grandparents who raised sheep to eat and slaughter. The wool was a byproduct that my grandmother and her sisters would weave with.
Campbell Bishop
Did they have churro sheep?
I don’t know; I’ll have to see if they have any photographs. Churro are actually extremely rare. The US government was trying to disrupt Native communities because they were self-sufficient and not reliant on the government. They used tactics like boarding schools and attempting to exterminate the churro sheep, so they went from a million to about 500. There are different stories of how Natives would hide their sheep, or be in different terrains so that the government couldn’t get them. People are trying to preserve them and get them back to what they were.
For the piece that we used for the shoot, how did you choose the baling twine material?
When I started weaving, I experimented with wools, willow and natural fibers in the area. I was helping my friend on the farm and repurposing things. You feed the sheep every day, and you gotta cut the baling twine off the hay bale. And you’re collecting these two lines of twine over months. This material brought me back into relationship with ranching work and with my grandparents. The piece is a thank you letter to them for the history that they’ve given to me, and the storytelling.
Campbell Bishop
Where did the shape came from for the piece?
We’ve been calling the piece a monster, and it is a monster. It’s based upon my grandmother’s family history that goes way back to the land. My grandma would tell us a bunch of stories of when she was little, interacting with brujas and duendes; New Mexican mysticism. So it’s like a bruja in my abstract interpretation.
So both sides of your family have been here for a long time?
I’m not exactly sure about my dad’s side, because it’s my dad and he’s very jokey. But his family has been here a long time. He has this dark but insightful joke; he’s like, ‘Well, our Spanish ancestors came, but they didn’t bring women…’
And obviously it’s easier to trace the colonizers’ records.
Exactly. Your mom lives in Talpa, right? Do you know about Los Comanches Dance, in that area? It’s Indo-Hispano. My mom says when she was younger it was a feast day. They would slaughter a pig, have a banquet, dance and drink—it was a big party they would do at multiple houses. One book captures it from the early ‘90s and has a photo of my grandparents in it. I was recently talking to this art gallery owner in Talpa, and he was telling me the story, that it’s a passed-down tradition. The Comanche would come over the Talpa hill down into Ranchos, set up camp to trade with Taos Pueblo, and interact with people like my family and other families of Spanish descent. The party apparently originated as a celebration of trade. He alluded [there] would be a little debauchery. And he said that’s why there’s…mixing in this area [laughs].
Campbell Bishop
A lot of practices get created because there’s these boundaries, and then people are remaking traditions outside of the purity context.
That’s what I’m doing. A lot of my work is not really rooted in tradition. It’s a stepchild, a mishmash of cultures. This was Native land, then it was Mexico. This has never been the United States. The US government attempted to break up Native communities and created names for the different ethnic groups. They were like, ‘you’re in the US, so you’re not Mexican, you’re Spanish’—trying to create hierarchies and divides. It breaks down people’s thought processes of their culture and ethnic backgrounds.
Campbell Bishop
Taos Abstract Artist Collective Inaugural Exhibit: 11 am-7 pm Friday, Sept. 9 and 11 am-8 pm Saturday, Sept. 10 (closing reception 4-8 pm). Free. Taos Center for the Arts, 133 Paseo del Pueblo Norte, Taos, (575) 758-2052
