Necessity is the mother of invention

The mind of Michael Roanhorse churns with a parade of designs and ideas like a carousel without a brake.

Well-known for his contemporary sculpted jewelry and, most recently, mixed-media paintings and drawings, he nurtures an entrepreneurial spirit along with that abstract vision.

When plunging jewelry sales decimated his income by three-quarters during the recession, he turned toward more practical pursuits –– a gallery to-go.

Roanhorse crafted some display panels for his friends and fellow artists Tony Abeyta and Mateo Romero to use at last year’s Santa Fe Indian Market. As word of mouth grew, he launched a new business making the panels from recyclable carpeting, foam and aluminum framing.

But his approach differs from display companies seeking corporate clients. Roanhorse and his brother Mark made the panels available for rent to artists setting up for a weekend show or flying in for an exhibition. He’s already scored a contract to produce panels for 40 artists with the Wright’s Indian Art annual Mother’s Day show in Albuquerque May 11-12. The brothers are also in discussions to contract with board members of the Gallup Inter-Tribal Ceremonial and with the Buffalo Thunder Resort and Casino.

The company, dubbed RB Paneling (for Roanhorse Brothers), in essence offers a gallery-to-go for artists traveling the art circuit from the Smithsonian to California. Roanhorse also wants to pursue school contracts. This winter, he created panels for between 15-20 artists at the Santa Fe Winter Indian Market.

“I’m rental and I’m local,” he said from his studio/shop off Cerrillos Road south of Santa Fe. “We can customize anything you want.”

Roanhorse took a rare moment to discuss his fledgling business in the industrial space at 3213 Calle Marie. Wearing a navy shirt appliquéed with his first name on one side and RB’s logo on the back, he looked more like a mechanic than a nationally known artist.

He nodded toward a wooden bench covered in carpeting that doubles as his bed for two-hour naps when he’s working an 18-hour shift, juggling deadlines for his jewelry, paintings, sculpture and paneling orders. In March, he sold out at Phoenix’s Heard Museum show. Heard buyers purchased all of his sculpted jewelry pieces to sell in the museum shop.

He says he learned to shuffle through a multiplicity of tasks without a break by growing up on the family ranch. He began baling hay at age 5.

“People question me on it –– saying it’s too much,” he said. “For me, that’s who I am. I’m still growing as an artist and I’m still growing my business.”

To defuse the stress, Roanhorse tinkers with the motor of his 1969 SS Camero. It’s red with white racing stripes.

That smoldering ambition must course through his blood –– both of his parents were highly driven. His mother started as a secretary before climbing to the chief executive officer position of Navajo Family Planning. His father owned a welding business and worked as a contractor as well as a rancher. He also owned a fleet of trucks.

“It’s been that desire to always be a hard worker,” he explained. “I grew up fast. I worked every day in the summertime. There’s no holidays. You can’t complain; you can’t cry about things. There’s no quitting –– no giving up. No one’s going to help you on this. Even if it was Christmas Day, we would be outside working.”

Roanhorse began making jewelry in a tiny Albuquerque garage apartment to make some extra school money. Within a couple of years, he was in the prestigious Heard Museum show, known for his “wearable art” jewelry.

He sold out at the 2004 Heard Museum show and took a first place; the museum even designed a new category –– “avant garde” — for his work. In Santa Fe, he shows at Bahti Indian Arts & Jewelry.

Today his lapidary work is in such demand that his jewelry can be found in high-end Japanese boutiques.

“The passion evolves around the amount of work you put into it,” he said. “There’s a lot of hours; there’s a lot of time. When we were baling hay, if it rained and messed it up, we took the chance. I got that from my Dad: ‘That’s life.’”

During the recession, he also survived by accepting installment payments for work that sometimes eclipsed $16,000. Pulling out a tool drawer filled with small boxes of gem-grade turquoise, coral and other precious stones, he plucked out a ring he made in honor of his grandfather. He wears it to all of his shows and business meetings for inspiration.

“He would say, ‘Always look up and never give up,’” his grandson said. “I wear this all the time because it’s like my calling card.”