Lene Lenape Woman

Perhaps it was from the celebration of the Henry Hudson's arrival in Manhattan 400 years ago that inspired me to imagine the original inhabitants. In the spirit of the celebration, there has been a lot attention to the Mannahatta project which explores what the island looked like before it was developed and built up. The Lene Lenape who lived there were sort of rambling groups rather than tribes living in villages. They wandered from one campsite to another depending on the time of year, living in accord with nature, never taking more than was needed. The women tended the crops and the men hunted. Everything was in balance. The Europeans did not approve, of course, thinking everyone was lacking in the proper entrepreneurial zeal. I remember learning about the Lene Lenape and how they were lazy drunks. I think the woman who taught this had never seen a Native American of any tribe so how would she know anyway. But I am guessing that the original impression of the colonists had filtered down. They did not understand why the men did nothing but hunt, which they considered to be a leisure activity, hence the laziness.

The Lene Lenape were chased west and finally ended up in Kansas and points west, mingling with other tribes. There are really no images of the original inhabitants of Mannahatta. I found this image at the Library of Congress. She was from the area that might have welcomed the Lene Lenape.

It made me feel sad to go through the pictures on the Library of Congress site. The people in the portraits are staring directly into the camera like most pictures from those times. But there is something else in the eyes of the Native Americans. I feel deeply ashamed by our history with the people who were here first. It is hard to meet their gaze.

The night was cloudy and the air was heavy when I went out. I didn't really want to go, but things had dragged out too long. Daylight crept in slowly it was more a lessening of the gloom than an actual dawn.

The wonderful book Gotham by Edwin Burrows and Mike Wallace was helpful in giving me and idea of where to go. There was even a map of Indian encampments. One was in Dumbo, so I thought that would make a good starting point.

I went to the end of Jay Street near the Con Edison power plant and placed the woman in front of a trendy home furnishing shop. The picture I chose is odd in that the woman sometimes looks as if she is smiling and sometimes as if she is frowning. It was probably my imagination because the light was pretty there, but she seemed to be smiling.

It was as if she liked all the clean lines and the grey tones.


The sun broke through the clouds briefly over the Con Ed plant.

There was a habitation near Battery Park, but I felt it was just too weird for the woman. What would she make of the tourists? According to Gotham, Pearl Street got its name from the piles of oyster shells left behind by the Lene Lenape. I thought it might make an easier transition.

It took me a while to find a place. There were a surprising number a people milling around. There must be some kind of club down by the seaport. It was hard to find a quiet spot without either party goers or security guards or police.

The spot was typical of Wall Street, dark canyons with the muffled hum of air conditioners. In the morning gloom it was even more depressing. I worried she wouldn't like it there. It started to rain.

But when I came back on a sunny day, there was a lot of activity, a small crane was lifting something nearby and she seemed amused by it.

I was planning on placing her near Foley Square where the Lene Lenape would camp by a deep pond. But I was so depressed by Pearl Street that I had to find somewhere else.

So I took her to the Time Landscape on Laguardia Place. It was planted by eco-artist Alan Sonfist and is composed of native plants. It is supposed to look like a scrap of land before human intervention.

It was a little awkward hanging her up as there was an all night cafe across the street. A few people were at the tables outside, the waiters were bored. There was really nothing happening except for me with my ladder hanging art off a street sign. I tried to find a more discreet spot but the only place that worked was right across from the tables.

I liked the way she looked with the poster for the Yinka Shonibare exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum and the ghost bike. It was all a little eerie.

Things were quiet here and she seemed serene.

Minetta Street traces the path of Minetta Brook which was buried in the 19th century. I though she would like it here because there is a pretty garden and the street is twisty.

She did not seem to be happy here at all.

She clung to the street sign. It was hard to find a good angle. It looks as if her picture has picked up some grunge.

She appeared to scowl at the American Apparel store.

The last place I chose was Gansevoort Street near the High Line where the Lene Lenape fished and planted. I thought her spirit would enjoy the wild flowers of the park.

I took only one picture in the muted pink dawn light. The High Line was too dark. When I came back, she was gone. I should have put her across the street. Clearly some territorial park employees saw her and took her down. They keep things really tidy on that side of the street and her spirit had flown.