“De la Tierra,” the recently opened exhibition at the Colorado History Center, cuts across the usual lines that define museum shows. And it does so in a burst of colors.

It is neither the standard history exhibition, relying solely on artifacts to tell a story, nor does it fall into the strict category of an art exhibition, where visitors are expected to wander from painting to painting, pondering the greater meaning of the art before them.

The show’s organizer, Lucha Martínez de Luna, mixes the two elements together — about half and half — and it’s a clever curatorial choice that allows her to present a more complete picture of how culture developed in a unique region of the state.

The exhibit’s subtitle outlines the general geography: “Reflections of Place in the Upper Río Grande.” But the display takes on wider terrain, an area stretching from Alamosa to Albuquerque, including both southern Colorado and Northern New Mexico, and centered around what we now call the San Luis Valley.

The region was long inhabited by Indigenous people whose lifestyle was altered permanently by the arrival of Spanish settlers starting, roughly, in the mid-17th century. It was, for a time, the northernmost part of Mexico, before wars and politics turned it into territories of an expanding United States.The exhibition’s goal is to show how this place — with shifting populations and nationalities — developed its own culture, which blended the traditions of inhabitants old and new, creating a distinct way of life that continues to exist today.

On a practical level, the show helps us understand why people now living in one region identity in so many different ways, including Latino, Chicano, Hispanic, Mexican American, Spanish American, Nuevomexicano and more.

Those varied perceptions of self “speak to the region’s social fluidity and complexity,” as the exhibition’s signage explains it.

Yet it is the objects that really tell the story in this compact show, set on the second floor of the downtown museum. Martinez de Luna, working with exhibition developer Jeremy Morton, pulled together items that connect the dots between how people worked, worshipped and made art.

There are pure artifacts, such as a pair of leather leggings, and a set of sheep shears from the very early 20th century that demonstrate how laborers worked the land, raising livestock and growing wheat. There are antique kitchen items, such as a rolling pin and a metal stockpot from 1863 that get at domestic traditions.

There are also sacred objects from religious ceremonies and cultural items, such as musical instruments, all from various time periods. There are rugs, blankets and cloches made throughout the 20th century that narrate the history of weaving and embroidery.

Because the region — separated by mountains, rivers, arid desert and wide plains — was so isolated from the population centers around it, inhabitants invented cross-cultural methods for getting by that tapped both native traditions and European practices bought by the Hispano families that began arriving with colonization.

One example was in medicine. The exhibition highlights that with a section about the “remedios” (“remedies”) that were used to cure illness using local herbs.

“De la Tierra” goes to great lengths to link then and now, and that is where the art comes in. On the walls are recent works made by contemporary artists Brandon Maldonado, Vicente Telles, Huberto Maestas and Carlos Sandoval. All live in the region or have family roots there.

Their work has a present-day vibe but contains strong references to historical customs and art. For example, Sandoval’s acrylic painting titled “A Man of Many Journeys” was made in 2022, but it depicts an old-time rancher, similar to his own grandfather, working on horseback in a field.

Vicente Telles’ “Mi Amigo the Pigeon,” from 2022, combines watercolor paint and oil pastel on a traditional gessoed panel into a work that transcends time. It has references to piñatas, long used for celebratory events, but also present-day discrimination against people of color living in the United States.

That mix of time periods helps to explain both the evolution and the continuity of Upper Rio Grande cultures and how the two are inseparable.

One good example: the adjacent display of an actual “death cart,” made of sticks in 1890 and used in penitent rituals at the time, alongside a 2022 painting titled “Death Cart” by Maldonado that recreates the traditional penitent ceremony in a contemporary, abstract way.

It is not always easy to differentiate the objects in “De la Tierra.” In many cases, the signage does say specifically when a piece was made or exactly where. Historians do not always have all of that information, and that leaves visitors filling in the blanks.

But its blend of art and artifact makes the show exciting and appealing to wider audiences.

There is the visceral thrill that comes from encountering objects made in a different era that somehow survived the ages. But there is also an art rush that comes from seeing the work of current painters and craft makers whose pieces embody a 21st-century aesthetic.

In that way, “De la Tierra” seems like a swell show for families, a great outing for a chilly afternoon. There is plenty of time to see it; the exhibit has a long, nearly eight-month run.

Ray Mark Rinaldi is a Denver-based freelance writer who specializes in fine arts.