He Gave Us Good Medicine: Native California Through the Eyes of Photographer Dugan Aguilar
Aguilar is photographed from the chest up, posed in front of a black slab etched with white names.

Photographer and Vietnam veteran Dugan Aguilar stands in front of the California Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Capitol Park in Sacramento, California, circa 1995.

Photo by Elizabeth Aguilar

Photographer and Vietnam veteran Dugan Aguilar stands in front of the California Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Capitol Park in Sacramento, California, circa 1995.

Photo by Elizabeth Aguilar

A black and white image of a young Dugan Aguilar in his U.S. Marine uniform, smiling.

Dugan Aguilar in his U.S. Marine portrait taken about 1968.

Courtesy of Dustin Aguilar

Dugan Aguilar in his U.S. Marine portrait taken about 1968.

Courtesy of Dustin Aguilar

A black and white photograph of a rocky landscape, with a woman sitting at the bottom of a hill.
Captivating Landscapes

Dugan Aguilar’s images have been on exhibition, been published in books and received awards. Though known for his portraits, he also portrayed California’s stunning landscapes.

Aguilar’s wife, Liz Aguilar, in Death Valley, California, about 1970.

Captivating Landscapes

Dugan Aguilar’s images have been on exhibition, been published in books and received awards. Though known for his portraits, he also portrayed California’s stunning landscapes.

Aguilar’s wife, Liz Aguilar, in Death Valley, California, about 1970.

A black and white image of a roundhouse silhouetted against a clouded skies and overhanging bushy trees.

This 1993 image titled “Tuolumne Roundhouse” earned first place in the inaugural photography category during that year’s Santa Fe Indian Market art competition.

This 1993 image titled “Tuolumne Roundhouse” earned first place in the inaugural photography category during that year’s Santa Fe Indian Market art competition.

A black and white image of a large rock formation near the water.

Chuchuyam Ba, a rock formation commonly called Soda Rock, photographed in 2004. The Maidu name refers to the stories about the formation.

Chuchuyam Ba, a rock formation commonly called Soda Rock, photographed in 2004. The Maidu name refers to the stories about the formation.

A black and white shot of a corner post from within a roundhouse. The wooden beams allow sunlight to stream into the space.
The Artistry of Shapes

Aguilar’s photographs celebrated the art and architecture of his people. The twined or coiled baskets are reflective of the structure and geometry of a newly built roundhouse. This is a corner post of the Chaw’se roundhouse, photographed in 2012 during its reconstruction.

The Artistry of Shapes

Aguilar’s photographs celebrated the art and architecture of his people. The twined or coiled baskets are reflective of the structure and geometry of a newly built roundhouse. This is a corner post of the Chaw’se roundhouse, photographed in 2012 during its reconstruction.

A black and white photo taken from inside a roundhouse, looking up towards the hole at the very top of the ceiling. The wooden beams create a circular opening to the sky.

Hunga Ka Pu, Chaw’se, a northern California cultural and ceremonial site, in 1995.

Hunga Ka Pu, Chaw’se, a northern California cultural and ceremonial site, in 1995.

A black and white image of a woman, seated, hand-weaving a basket with a spiral design.

Eva Salazar, a Kumiai basketmaker from San Jose de la Zorra, Mexico, works on a basket at the California Indian Basketweavers’ Association gathering in 2003.

Eva Salazar, a Kumiai basketmaker from San Jose de la Zorra, Mexico, works on a basket at the California Indian Basketweavers’ Association gathering in 2003.

A black and white image of a woman standing in front of a stand filled with dance regalia. She looks off to the side.

Continuation of Culture

Aguilar’s photographs celebrate the artistry and texture of Northern California Native peoples’ dance and regalia as it is was being passed on to the next generations.

This is an image of Sandra Lowry (Yurok) in front of Karuk Brush Dance regalia, Katimîin, California, in 1992.

Continuation of Culture

Aguilar’s photographs celebrate the artistry and texture of Northern California Native peoples’ dance and regalia as it is was being passed on to the next generations.

This is an image of Sandra Lowry (Yurok) in front of Karuk Brush Dance regalia, Katimîin, California, in 1992.

Black and white image of a young boy in dance regalia.

Adam Enos (Maidu/Washoe/Karuk/Yurok) in regalia during a Maidu dance demonstration in 1999.

Adam Enos (Maidu/Washoe/Karuk/Yurok) in regalia during a Maidu dance demonstration in 1999.

A black and white image. A mom puts necklaces on her young daughter for the dance.

Kimberly Cunningham-Summerfield and her daughter, Kazzy, prepare to dance at the Oakland Museum of California in 1996.

Kimberly Cunningham-Summerfield and her daughter, Kazzy, prepare to dance at the Oakland Museum of California in 1996.

A black and white image of five men standing in a line in the forest, each singing and holding instruments.
The Importance of Dance

The Maidu have traditionally danced the Bear Dance each spring on their ancestral lands in northeastern California to honor the new year. This ceremony has rarely been recorded. Here Kai LaPena, Evan Enos, Russell Enos, Lester Enos and Frank LaPena of the group Maidu Dancers and Traditionalists sing at a Bear Dance near Susanville, California, in 2009.

The Importance of Dance

The Maidu have traditionally danced the Bear Dance each spring on their ancestral lands in northeastern California to honor the new year. This ceremony has rarely been recorded. Here Kai LaPena, Evan Enos, Russell Enos, Lester Enos and Frank LaPena of the group Maidu Dancers and Traditionalists sing at a Bear Dance near Susanville, California, in 2009.

A black and white image of a line of women participating in the Bear Dance.

Maidu women at a Bear Dance in 2009. From left: Rose Enos, Lavina Suehead, Sage LaPena, Sandy Keller, Lily Wineman and daughter Isabella, unknown, Chloe Hedrick, Alicia Adams, Tawney Logan, Simone Madrigal and Tiffany Adams.

Maidu women at a Bear Dance in 2009. From left: Rose Enos, Lavina Suehead, Sage LaPena, Sandy Keller, Lily Wineman and daughter Isabella, unknown, Chloe Hedrick, Alicia Adams, Tawney Logan, Simone Madrigal and Tiffany Adams.

A black and white image of a man wearing regalia, photographed form the chest up.

Frank LaPena (Nomtipom Wintu) in regalia during a Bear Dance in 2012. A prominent artist, LaPena was one of Dugan Aguilar’s early cultural mentors who encouraged his work among Native communities.

Frank LaPena (Nomtipom Wintu) in regalia during a Bear Dance in 2012. A prominent artist, LaPena was one of Dugan Aguilar’s early cultural mentors who encouraged his work among Native communities.

A black and white portrait of a woman in regalia.

Dancer Agnes Wells (Shoshone) in regalia after a cultural demonstration at the California Indian Museum’s Honored Elders Day in Sacramento in 2012.

Dancer Agnes Wells (Shoshone) in regalia after a cultural demonstration at the California Indian Museum’s Honored Elders Day in Sacramento in 2012.

A black and white image of a man wearing the skin and head of a bear.

During the Bear Dance, here pictured in 2009, a man represents the bear during the ceremony.

During the Bear Dance, here pictured in 2009, a man represents the bear during the ceremony.

A black and white image. A woman in a wheelchair touches the bear skin with a sprig of wormwood.

A Maidu elder brushes the bear with wormwood during the ceremony.

A Maidu elder brushes the bear with wormwood during the ceremony.

A black and white portrait of a veteran in a suit and various military regalia.
Supporting Fellow Veterans

Dugan Aguilar was committed to documenting Native veterans. He photographed the Susanville Indian veterans’ reunion throughout the 1980s and 1990s Leonard Lowry (Maidu/Pit River) was one of the most decorated Native American soldiers to serve in World War II. He also served during the Korean War, retiring from army service as a lieutenant colonel.

Supporting Fellow Veterans

Dugan Aguilar was committed to documenting Native veterans. He photographed the Susanville Indian veterans’ reunion throughout the 1980s and 1990s Leonard Lowry (Maidu/Pit River) was one of the most decorated Native American soldiers to serve in World War II. He also served during the Korean War, retiring from army service as a lieutenant colonel.

A black and white portrait of a man in a suit and military regalia.

Stanley Lowry (Maidu/Pit River), Leonard’s older brother, also served during World War II at the Battle of the Bulge.

Stanley Lowry (Maidu/Pit River), Leonard’s older brother, also served during World War II at the Battle of the Bulge.

A black and white portrait of a veteran wearing a Marine trucker hat.

Warren Gorbet (Maidu), Dugan’s cousin, served in the U.S. Marine Corps in the late 1950s.

Warren Gorbet (Maidu), Dugan’s cousin, served in the U.S. Marine Corps in the late 1950s.

A black and white portrait of an older veteran wearing a marine uniform.

Francis Allen (Pomo) served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War. He is likely the first California Native man to serve as a deep-sea diver in the Navy.

Francis Allen (Pomo) served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War. He is likely the first California Native man to serve as a deep-sea diver in the Navy.

A black and white image of a female veteran.

Rea Cichocki (Konkow Maidu/Hupa/Yurok/Wintu) enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps in 1968, serving in the U.S. Army for 38 years. She retired with honors as a master sergeant in 2010. During her service, she saw firsthand how women’s military service changed, from first being put into mostly support positions to holding leadership positions and fighting alongside men in combat. Cichocki continues to be an active advocate in the California veteran community.

Rea Cichocki (Konkow Maidu/Hupa/Yurok/Wintu) enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps in 1968, serving in the U.S. Army for 38 years. She retired with honors as a master sergeant in 2010. During her service, she saw firsthand how women’s military service changed, from first being put into mostly support positions to holding leadership positions and fighting alongside men in combat. Cichocki continues to be an active advocate in the California veteran community.

A group of veterans reunited after years apart.

This Susanville Indian veteran reunion was held in the Susanville Veterans Memorial Building in Susanville, California, circa 1995. Dugan Aguilar is kneeling at front row, center. His influential uncle, Leonard Lowry, is in the second row, third from left. His cousin Mervin Evans (Maidu) is in the second row, fifth from left. Stanley Lowry is in the second row, sixth from left. Dugan’s father, Bob Aguilar (Walker River Paiute), is standing in the third row, second from left.

This Susanville Indian veteran reunion was held in the Susanville Veterans Memorial Building in Susanville, California, circa 1995. Dugan Aguilar is kneeling at front row, center. His influential uncle, Leonard Lowry, is in the second row, third from left. His cousin Mervin Evans (Maidu) is in the second row, fifth from left. Stanley Lowry is in the second row, sixth from left. Dugan’s father, Bob Aguilar (Walker River Paiute), is standing in the third row, second from left.

Born August 8, 1947, Robert Dugan Aguilar grew up in Susanville, California, homeland of the Mountain Maidu, Pit River, Washoe and Paiute peoples. He and his family attended Susanville Indian community gatherings, which included Native veterans’ reunions and the annual Bear Dance, a spring ceremony celebrating renewal. He was generous; when he learned to hunt, he frequently shared his elk or rabbit with elders. Aguilar was also an Eagle Scout and accomplished athlete. “He was just someone I really respected and wanted to be like,” recalled cousin Ike Lowry (Maidu/Pit River).

To Aguilar, military service seemed inevitable. Influencing his upbringing was an older generation of highly decorated Native World War II and Korean War veterans, most notably his father, Bob Aguilar (Walker River Paiute), and uncles Stanley and Leonard Lowry (bothMaidu/Pit River), the latter having founded the American Indian Veterans Association in Susanville. Not only was he surrounded by a culture that valued community and military service, but, according to his son, Dustin Aguilar, “he enlisted because he was going to be drafted anyway.” Dugan Aguilar joined the U.S. Marine Corps in 1968 and was stationed in Vietnam for 20 months as a forward observer, scanning for enemy targets ahead of his unit.

His tour in Vietnam was likely the most formative experience of his life. “One of the first jobs he had in Vietnam was loading body bags,” said his cousin, artist Judith Lowry (Maidu/Pit River). When he returned, he was a changed man. “I saw the shift in his personality,” she said. “He was more youthful and fun-loving as a kid.” For the rest of his life, he suffered from complications from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and Agent Orange, a toxic herbicide the U.S. government authorized the military to spray throughout Vietnam’s jungles to kill foliage. He rarely spoke of his wartime experiences.

Aguilar returned from Vietnam to a community that lacked the cultural knowledge of healing that he needed, so he sought his own path. He earned a bachelor’s degree in industrial technology and design from California State University, Fresno, in 1973. Though he harbored a longstanding interest, it was only after attending photography classes at the University of Nevada in Reno and one held by assistants of celebrated photographer Ansel Adams that he felt he had the skills to develop his craft.

Aguilar turned his artist’s eye toward his people. California encompasses the traditional homelands of more than 100 different tribes. Yet even within the state, its rich Indigenous cultural diversity has been seldom recognized. Seeing this disparity, Aguilar devoted his artistic life to honoring the tribes’ varied experiences. After examining his father’s archive, Dustin Aguilar said he realized that “he didn’t focus on the trauma side of Native world and culture. He didn’t want to show [Native peoples] as victims or heroes. Just what it is.”

During the late 1970s, Aguilar and his wife, Liz, moved to Elk Grove, California, so that he could work in the graphics department at the Sacramento Bee. Meanwhile, he eagerly learned more about his own and neighboring cultures. Initially, “he decided that he was going to photograph every tribe in the United States,” reflected Judith Lowry. “He realized California by itself was a life’s work.”

Aguilar’s images reflect his commitment to establishing trust with those he photographed. For many of the cultural events, he was the only photographer allowed to attend. Initially a portraitist, Aguilar photographed the Maidu Bear Dance, Yurok and Karuk ceremonies, and the annual Susanville Indian veterans’ reunions. He became the official photographer for the California Indian Basketweavers’ Association and News from Native California, a magazine devoted to California’s Native peoples.

Aguilar gave large, matted prints to those he photographed in an extension of traditional Indigenous systems of reciprocity. “He was out there bearing culture,” observed Judith Lowry. “You pick a piece of the culture you can carry.” For Aguilar, photography was the means to remind his community of their heritage and self-worth. Chag Lowry considers his cousin’s work as a gift. “There’s a fair amount of racism throughout California,” he said. “All these Native people were very brave to share their image. He was that facilitator for many Native families to share very cultural and very deeply held expressions and emotions.”

Family members speak of Dugan Aguilar’s humility and unobtrusiveness. “His camera, you didn’t really notice; he didn’t interfere with anything,” Ike Lowry recalled. “He was able to be accepted into positions of taking photos that were sensitive.” Aguilar’s respect for his people extended even to the words he used to refer to his craft, avoiding predatory terms like “taking” or “shooting” photographs.

Sandra Lowry (Yurok) introduced Aguilar to her people’s Yurok and Karuk Brush Dance ceremonies. “There was an elegance about him,” she recalled. “People looked at him as another Indian. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t our tribe. We want Indians to do this.”

Sandra Lowry suggests that the act of photography served as Aguilar’s ceremony of healing. “Dugan’s photography, even just being in black and white, is a balance,” she said. “There’s so much when you look at a color picture: Do I look at that piece of the ceremonial regalia? Do I look at the red of the woodpecker or the green of the mallard? . . . That’s the quiet background that I felt with Dugan.” Dustin Aguilar attributes his father’s serenity to counterbalancing the experience of war. “With PTSD, he didn’t want those explosive moments around him,” he said. “His nervous system felt calmer in moments when things are settled, like a breath.”

Aguilar’s photographs of his fellow Native veterans express camaraderie and mutual respect, but they also allow conversation about and healing from experiences many might prefer to forget. Independent curator and advocate Theresa Harlan (Kewa/Jemez/Laguna Pueblos), who originally met Aguilar through the American Indian Contemporary Arts gallery in San Francisco, said “There’s a need [for veterans] to recognize each other. . . . When you look at his veterans series, it’s really to recognize those who may not always feel comfortable being recognized.” In a contemporary variation on ceremony, the gatherings—and Aguilar’s documentation of them—restored veterans and their communities. “Sometimes the only way you can talk about it is when you have representation,” said Chag Lowry, “Dugan was healing himself, but his imagery heals people. When they see it, they can talk about it. That’s powerful, and that’s good medicine.”

Dugan Aguilar died on October 6, 2018. About 25,000 negatives, prints and transparencies that he captured from the 1980s to 2010s are now archived at the Oakland Museum of California (OMCA). Drew Johnson, OMCA’s curator of photography and visual culture, said the archives are vital to the interpretation of California’s history and cultures. “The Aguilar archive is the most important photographic acquisition by the museum in many years. This project is integrally tied to our work to engage California communities in the interpretation and presentation of their stories.”