Thursday, 17 May 2012

23.1_coverNew Artists, New Media, New Techniques in Inuit Art

Since the market for Inuit art has tended to be rather conservative, there has been a lack of incentive for people with limited means of livelihood to experiment with new media. Even before Art Advisor Jim Houston’s booklet of explicit instructions was distributed in 1951, Inuit were guided in what to produce (Igloliorte 2007:14–25). In the early 20th century, whalers directed them to make chess sets, for instance, and the missionaries who followed didn’t hesitate to provide their own advice as to what kind of art to make. From the early 1960s onwards, various marketing agents have encouraged the production of what must be termed “safe art,” that is, objects that will find a ready market. Even so, there have always been artists, by inclination or intent, who have departed from convention.

The scene has shifted dramatically over the past decade. The third generation of Inuit artists has access to new media and new role models, and they are being actively encouraged and supported by some visionary dealers and a more receptive art public. There have been other factors in play as well, not least of which is the access Inuit living in remote regions now have to formal art training (at Arctic College, for example) and the media in all its many forms, including the Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), which is published by the Inuit Art Foundation (IAF).

Since its inception in 1986, IAF has actively encouraged artists to stretch the boundaries of the expected. Not only has it organized several cross-regional professional development sessions for artists, but it has also been given credit by many for having helped launch them in new directions. Mike Massie, for instance, attributes his success to two workshops organized by IAF in Labrador in the early 1990s. They provided, he says, the “kickstart” he needed (Fox 1996:24).

Massie is one of a number of Inuit taking a more schooled approach to their art. Over the years, various interested parties have insisted that Inuit should not go to art school. Perhaps the first such advice came from Alice Lighthall, then Director of the Canadian Guild of Crafts in Montreal, where the first art collected from the North was sold (in 1948). When asked how younger Inuit would learn to make art, she famously responded: “Let them go to their grandfathers for that!”

But times change and, without belabouring the point, a survey conducted by IAF in 2006 revealed that 82 per cent of artists want formal art training. 

An emerging professionalism

Inuit artists’ needs and priorities have shifted over the past 20 years or so. Materials have changed, the artwork has changed, and the engagement of the artists has changed. More now take up artmaking as a career, and demonstrate an emerging professionalism in terms of promoting and marketing their work. Some are pursuing formal training and exploring different media.

In 1991, Gilbert Hay of Nain, in Nunatsiavut, participated in a workshop at Banff, which he described as “almost like being in heaven” (IAQ 1991:20). The contact with artists from all over the world, the intensive focus on artmaking, and the availability of a wide variety of media prompted him to take a serious look at his own art. He says he started to wonder if he was “stuck in the stone age” (ibid.).

Generally, there is a growing cadre of Inuit simply enjoying what many have called “the freedom to be an artist,” by which they mean making whatever they want with whatever materials they choose. As sculptor Bill Nasogaluak says: “I use whatever it takes to produce the best piece I can” (Mitchell Fall 1996:3).

Much has been written about Inuit needing to earn a living from their art. While this remains — of necessity — a primary motivation, a courageous group of contemporary artists is breaking new ground and challenging established ideas about what Inuit art is.

Curator Darlene Wight noted that the new Inuit artists are “distinguished by the pursuit of personal expression in their work and the utilization of innovative means” (Wight 1991:9). They are, I think, further distinguished by their perception of themselves as professionals. Their work is the result of research, and a vision that goes beyond the mere commodification of skills (Mitchell 1991:3).

At the same time as they embrace new techniques and align themselves more closely with the global art community, Inuit continue to draw inspiration from a rich heritage. Like indigenous artists in the Philippines and elsewhere, Canadian Inuit artists are, as Paul Lorilla (a student in a graduate seminar I conducted at Carleton University in 2002) once told me, “striving to embrace modern society while clinging to their past” (Mitchell 2002:5). This phenomenon is exemplified by the Igloolik filmmakers, led by Zacharias Kunuk, who have won prestigious prizes, including a Cannes Film Festival award, in what is a new medium for Inuit but one that is employed for the purpose of retelling history from their own perspective (IAQ 2003:55).

The contemporary forms of Inuit song and dance are yet another example of how living cultures produce living artforms. As Nunavut MP Nancy Karetak-Lindell told one of the first graduating classes of IAF’s Cultural Industries Training Program, Inuit are masters at finding innovative ways to keep their culture alive, “blending what they know with the new” (IAQ 1998:50).

Following their dreams

As I write, several women graphic artists are attracting widespread critical attention for their documentation of everyday contemporary Inuit life. Annie Pootoogook’s untutored drawings of shopping at the co-op, watching CBC’s The National, and living with domestic violence have an immediacy that is lacking in the greater body of Inuit art, which has been referred to by many, including Inuit artists, as “memory art.” Previously reluctant to depart from the conventions established — mainly by traders and public servants — for “Inuit art,” more people are now daring to tell their stories and follow their dreams.

In a 1996 interview, Nasogaluak talked about his “ultimate goal” of “portraying the Inuit culture in lifesize marble” (Mitchell Fall 1996:35). Having purchased air compressors (“for the first time”) and tools that he could use for working with marble, he was planning a trip to the quarries of Loveland, Colorado.

Marble, the material used by classic sculptors worldwide, holds an appeal for many Inuit artists. In the late 1980s, IAF arranged for several Inuit to attend summer workshops in Rutland, Vermont, where they learned to work with marble, using the same tools as Michelangelo had at his disposal. Invariably, the artists pronounced it a worthwhile venture, in that it improved their carving technique — in any medium. Several have continued to work sporadically with marble but, as appealing as it may be to artists, it is not as commercially viable as the so-called “soapstone” found locally.

Indeed, artists often express frustration at the insistence of marketing agents at various levels that they use local materials, mainly serpentine in its various guises. Massie told us in a 1996 interview that he had been speaking with a gallery owner who said she didn’t want to see wood carvings made by Inuit artists. “I don’t understand that,” he said. “I don’t understand how people can think that just because you are an Inuit artist, you have to carve in stone” (Fox 1996:20). Massie himself works in wood, stone, sterling silver, bone, ivory, and various metals.

Similarly, although the gift market prefers depictions of domestic and hunting scenes, several Inuit artists use their art as a means for self expression. David Ruben Piqtoukun’s many stunning sculptures, in which he expresses the angst he experienced at being taken away from his family to be placed in a residential school, have inspired a number of artists to follow suit. His works in the Winnipeg Art Gallery’s exhibition Between Two Worlds (Gilmour 1996:30), which were quite unlike anything seen before, were a major breakthrough for Inuit artists. I was with many Inuit as they saw these works for the first time. Aside from being impressed with his technique — how do you bend stone? — they were invariably moved by the message and by the freedom of his art.

Another artist to experiment with new media is Piqtoukun’s brother, Abraham Anghik Ruben, of Salt Spring Island in British Columbia. Interviewed for IAQ, he talked about two new things he had done: painting and mask making, his interest in the latter deriving from the combined aesthetics of the Bering Sea–Alaskan and Mackenzie Delta cultures, both of which figure in Ruben’s ancestry (Sinclair 2004). While living in Alaska and British Columbia, he was inevitably influenced by the aesthetics of Northwest Coast art, including that of the Haida, Kwakiutl, and Tlingit. To quote from his artist’s statement: “I have always been of the strong opinion that the creation and appreciation of art is an entirely cross-cultural and international preoccupation” (ibid., 64). A good example of such cross-cultural fertilization would be the relationship between filmmakers Zacharias Kunuk of Igloolik and Norm Cohn of Montreal. The best of these encounters results, said art historian Hal Opperman, in a new synthesis (Opperman 1986:1–4).

Stone carving, still the favoured medium among Canadian Inuit, and the one still meeting the demands of buyers worldwide, appears to remain largely the domain of an older generation of unilingual Inuit, their only way to participate in a wage economy. But there are a growing number of new-generation carvers — along with graphic artists, filmmakers, and others to come — who have their feet in the past and their hands and hearts in the present. They give truth to a comment made by cultural worker Theresie Tungilik, who said: “Our art continues to document our past, but it also reflects the life we are living now” (IAQ 1996:7).

This is ever more the case as, in the words of the Inuit Art Centre’s Barry Pottle, Canadian Inuit “construct tomorrow’s tradition” (Pottle 2001:19).

Marybelle Mitchell, editor-in-chief of Inuit Art Quarterly

May 2011

 

References

Fox, Matthew

1996 "Mike Massie of Labrador," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 11, no. 2 (Spring):16-24

Gilmour, Allison

1996 "Between Two Worlds: Sculpture by David Ruben Piqtoukun," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 11, no. 4 (Winter):30-36 

Igloliorte, Heather

2007 Sanajatsarq: Reactions, Productions, and the Transformation of Promotional Practice," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 22, no. 4 (Winter): 14-25

Ipellie, Alootook

1992 "Nunatsiaqmiut: People of the Good Land," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 7, no. 2 (Spring):14-20

Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ)

2004 "Abraham Anghik Ruben: Taking a New Run at his Art," vol. 19, no. 3&4 (Fall/Winter):64

2003 "Igloolik Isuma series receives national exposure," vol. 18, no. 3 (Fall):55 

1998 "'A doorway to opportunities,'" vol. 13, no. 2 (Summer):50

1996 "The Contemporary Living Art: Theresie Tungilik," vol. 11, no. 1 (Spring):6-7

Mitchell, Marybelle

2002 "Astonishing Art can Happen," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 17, no. 3 (Fall):5

1997 "'Inuit Art is Inuit Art,'" Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), Vol. 12, no. 1 & 2 (Spring & Summer):4-15

1996 "Bill Nasogaluak: Getting Past the Oral Tradition," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 11, no. 3 (Fall):28-35

1996 "The Man in the Moon," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 11, no. 3 (Fall):3

1991 "From the Editor," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 6, no. 2 (Spring): 3

Opperman, Hal

1986 "The Inuit Phenomenon in Art-Historical Context," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 1, no. 2 (Summer):1-4

Pottle, Barry

2001 "Contemporary Traditions in Inuit Art," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 16, no. 2 (Summer):14-19

Wight, Darlene

1991 "Inuit Tradition and Beyond: New Attitudes toward Art-making in the 1980s," Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ), vol. 6, no. 2 (Spring):8-15

 

Selected references from Inuit Art Quarterly (IAQ)

Editorials

Features

Interviews

Reviews

News Items

Inuit Art Quarterly

Published by the Inuit Art Foundation, IAQ provides artists with a voice and serves as a bridge to connect artists, dealers, collectors, academics, and people everywhere with an interest in Inuit art.

Click to read IAQ

Inuit Artists' Shop

The non-profit Inuit Artists’ Shop, a division of the Inuit Art Foundation, offers a full range of arts and crafts from across the Canadian Arctic.

Click to shop

Inuit Artists' College

The Inuit Artists’ College, a non-degree granting institution, delivers education and developmental programs.

Click to learn more

Inuit Art Histories

Online art histories make knowledge and resources available to northern artists and the general public everywhere.

Click to see the art

National Inuit Artists' Centre

The National Inuit Artists' Centre (NiAC) offers education material and resources for Inuit artists all across Canada.

Click to Learn