Ha-no-oo: Star Calendar
Ha-no-oo is the Arapaho word for galaxy. Named in that language, this 500-square-foot granite mosaic floor emerges from the surrounding concrete in subdued granite hues to portray a highly specific rendition of the celestial vault above Denver, Colorado. Fifteen hundred pieces of stone form the composition. Twenty-one star geographies transform the sidewalk into a ten-thousand-year journey across the night skies of Colorado.
The floor was originally installed at the 16th and California Street Station in 1997 and relocated to the 14th Street and Wadsworth Station in 2013.
The idea began with the nature of a light rail station itself — a place of navigation, of people moving through the landscape, arriving and departing. I started thinking about how people used to navigate by the stars, and that led me to a question I couldn’t let go of: why default to the Arabic and European constellation traditions? The land we were working on had been read by sky-watchers for thousands of years before any of those traditions arrived here. That question became a multi-year quest — consulting with tribal elders across the region, learning how different nations had named and understood the same night sky in their own languages and from their own experience.
Each of the twenty-one constellations is named in an Indigenous language from the region — Arapaho, Cheyenne, Lakota, Comanche, Kiowa, Hopi, Paiute, Bannock, Shoshone, Navajo, and others — names shared by elders and knowledge keepers whose generosity made this work possible. Among them: the Comanche see an animal with a long neck where others see something else entirely. The Kiowa name their constellation Dust of the Red Horse. The Northern Cheyenne see Stars in one bunch. The Paiute call theirs Northwind Direction Star. The Bannock and Shoshone both name the Little Dipper — but in their own words.
Brief glimpses into the deep past are rare. But such events do surface on occasion through the cracks and in-between places of the modern.
Once, the wolves put a lost Arapaho boy in charge of naming the stars, since he had let them all out of their parfleche. The boy would also have to keep track of them all — if he didn’t, there would be no stars, and with no stars, there would be no moon, nor any rainbows. The sun would not go away, but there would be no light.
Mark Soldier Wolf told me a story once about some Arapahos who were caught in a blizzard at night, long before Denver existed, somewhere near what is now downtown Denver — near where this station stands. They saw many lights in the sky. He understood this as a foretelling — of this project, and of its location. He came with his family to dance at the dedication.
Many people graciously shared part of their world description, and without their assistance this project would not have been possible. Among those who contributed: Mark Soldier Wolf and family, George Tinker, the Comanche Elders and Language Committee, Forrest Kassanavoid, Wallace Coffey, Bernard Second, Claire Farrer, Wilhelmina Phone, Alonzo Chalepah, Zel Towasap, Camille George, Roseanne Abrahamson, Bernice Martinez, Randy Jiron, Joseph Toledo, Paul Pino, Anna Silas, Roger Echohawk, Walter Echohawk, Von Del Chamberlain, Dan Bedonie, and Brenda Tierney.
This project was made possible by Art at the Stations, Inc., the people of Colorado, and RTD.
