Monthly Archives: January 2019

Bone Box by Michael Nicoll Yanhgulanaas

Bone Box by Michael Nicoll Yanhgulanaas is an art installation that is situated in the Museum of Anthropology. The installation, created in 2007,  is a combination of 12 square pieces of plywood that are assembled together to reveal a large picture. While each piece, positioned next to one another, creates a unified image, each individual piece is, in fact, able to stand alone. The unification of all the pieces of plywood works together to tell a story of the Haida culture. Bone Box, being the only interactive installation in the Great Hall of the museum is very attractive. It not only draws audiences in through curiosity, but it also attracts their eye simply because of how colourful it is in comparison to the other pieces in the area. We are accustomed to not being able to touch any artefacts or artwork displayed in museums and the idea of allowing people to interact with this piece by turning the pieces of plywood to reveal the sentence “ A stack of plywood trays built to contain fragments of everyone’s culture.” is not only unique but also enriches the whole meaning of the piece.

 

Considering how this piece is comprised of individual images placed next to one another to create a larger picture while also leaving gaps in between them, insinuating that they are all independent, the audience is able to analyze the symbolic meaning of this piece through the way it is displayed. Before reading the sentence on the top of the plywood pieces, many people could infer that each section represents something on its own about the culture and the concept of unifying all of them symbolizes that unity within the culture. Therefore, the words written on the plywood only enhance or clarify this concept that the artist was trying to convey. This concept, combined with the interactive nature of the piece was also an intention of the artist, seeing as how it can bring people together to discover other features of it and learn more about how different, individual people come together to create what they call a “culture.”

 

What I have observed through this piece is how not only the images tell the story, the entire composition of the piece is what enriches the meaning. The uniqueness of the colours and the composition of this piece in comparison to the display of the other pieces in the museum, it stands out in a way that attracts people’s attention. However, the full intention and story behind this piece will not necessarily be clear to every individual that views and interacts with the piece. I did not necessarily know that this piece represented the Haida culture. One could look at the piece and understand it represents the indigenous culture; however, this culture and historical details are not necessarily taught to everyone who would view this piece. Therefore, I think that it could be hard for certain people to understand the piece without background knowledge or having read the sign describing the piece and the artists artistic intention.

Re-Contextualizing Indigenous Artwork and Artifacts: Dionne Paul’s Her First Day of School and His First day of School as an Act of “Figurative Repatriation”

Located within a brightly lit display case in the heart of the museum of Anthropology’s Multiversity Gallery are Artist Dionne Paul’s striking Photographic prints Her First Day of School and its companion piece His First Day of School (2013). The composite images, printed on paper and hung one above the other, depict in colour the artists own daughter and son baring proud smiles as they stand ready for their first day of school. Superimposed on top of these innocuous photographs taken in a familiar style are those of indigenous children of similar age on their first day in an Indian Residential School. These discordant pictures are edited together such that the bodies of the students attending the residential schools, pictured in black and white, seem to replace those of the artists children, forming what is in my opinion one haunting image. In her artist’s statement located beneath the two pieces Paul explains how, being of Coast Salish and Nuxalk ancestry, she aimed to present us with a stark juxtapose. With the images Paul contrasts the typical experience of a child on their first day of school which encompasses myriad emotions including angst, pride, and joy ending with the return to their parents with the inhumane and abusive experience of an indigenous child forcibly taken from their family and placed in a residential school. Through this juxtaposition, the artist presents us with “visual manifestations of the crimes against humanity committed at the 139 Indian Residential Schools in Canada” (Paul, 2013). Furthermore, these images are displayed within a western museum environment among many historical and anthropological artifacts and artworks. However, Paul positions the historical images of children in residential schools against very recent, and stylistically familiar images of a culturally recognizable experience thus rejecting the idea that the wrong doings of colonial settlers, such as the creation of residential schools, occurred in the distant past. She then reinforces this point by explaining how her own father attended a residential school which as recently as 1975, the year the Paul was born. In so doing, Paul not only educates those who visit the museum, she re-contextualizes the other artifacts and artworks that surround these images, and through her own work and in her own words takes ownership of her indigenous identity. Therefore, it is my view that through her works Her First Day of School and His First Day of School Dionne Paul engages in a form of “figurative repatriation” (Kramer, 2004).

Works Cited

Paul, Dionne. Her First Day of School. 2013 Photographic image on paper. Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver.

Paul, Dionne. His First Day of School. 2013 Photographic image on paper. Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver.

Kramer, Jennifer. “Figurative Repatriation: First Nations ‘Artist-Warriors’ Recover, Reclaim, and Return Cultural Property through Self-Definition.” Journal of Material Culture, vol. 9, 2004.

The Worst First Day of School

Throughout my experience at the Museum of Anthropology, the art pieces brought to light the many issues Indigenous people faced and still face today. As I walked through rows and rows of artwork, holding the devastating stories of oppression, but also the beautiful stories of culture, love, and family. The pieces that struck me the most was ‘Her First Day of School’ and ‘His First Day of School’ by Dionne Paul. The artworks depict the immense oppression against Aboriginal children within the era of residential schools in Canada. The artworks compare the residential school system with modern day schooling. Dionne Paul describes the first day of school as a day that is “typically synonymous with nervous yet proud parents sending their clean, well fed, well dressed children off to a safe learning environment to play and meet new friends and then return home”, although for Indigenous families “the first day of school was for many decades, was the opposite experience”.

Kramer would describe Paul as an artist warrior: she was “able to unsettle the museum visitor by disorienting their expectations. Myself, as a museum visitor, the artworks did disorient my expectation. In fact, many of the artworks within the museum did, although Paul’s piece in particular blew me away, in the sense that my mind couldn’t break away from the piece.

Looking into the eyes of the children within the piece, you see a happy child, smiling from ear to ear. But for the Indigenous children shown on the overlaid image, that was not the case. The two images represent the lives of thousands of Indigenous children and families, and the struggles they faced throughout Canadian history.

Bone Box and Asymmetrical Symmetry

Bone Box is an abstract installation, made in 2007, that now rests in the Great Hall of the Museum of Anthropology amongst other, much less colourful, pieces. It was crafted by Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas – visual contemporary artist, author and speaker – using plywood sheets as panels that rotate from a vertical and dominant position to a horizontal position, revealing the words: “A STACK OF PLYWOOD TRAYS BUILT TO CONTAIN FRAGMENTS OF EVERYONE’S CULTURE”. The frontal view of the 12 panels together make up an abstract, collective image, yet each individual panel is an independent story of its own. The binding of these two worlds – the smaller, more defined one, and the larger, wholistic one – embodies an association between indigenous and contemporary cultures that Yahgulanaas makes through his piece. The fragmented art work represents the many cultural fragments that exist in today’s world, however the paintings overlap and come together to create a singular image. This shows how cultural differences are inevitable, but should not restrict our coexistence.

Bone Box is the only colourful piece in a room that is dominated by brown and red tones. For this reason, it stands out in stark contrast to the rest. The other exhibits that surround this piece include canoes, 19th century Haida poles, woven work, and date back to as early as 1984 (Canoe, Bill Reid), further accentuating this piece as the most modern and contemporary work. The piece’s modernity and colourful nature is a celebration of the marriage of these two worlds.

One wouldn’t call this a perfect example of figurative repatriation, as it is defined by Kramer, however the artists’ desire to reclaim, or ‘repatriate’, his own Haida culture through similarly characterized art – round, thick, and textured strokes – is undoubtedly made clear through this piece. It is his way of “colonizing the colonizers” through art – through outlining similarities between first nation and all other peoples, but still maintaining the style and practice of his own Haida culture.

Additionally, the fact that each plywood sheet was once used by the Archaeology Department at UBC to store objects shows how Yahgulanaas is able to repurpose objects that are used currently to depict events and realizations that are reoccurring. He obtains this unique power; the power to transcends time and space – a power that is unique to art.

The first thing I noticed as I saw this piece was its imperfect symmetry. The whole installation seems to be symmetrical in shape and size, but the details of each side are not the same. My take on the significance of this is that it again portrays how cultural differences (the fine details) shouldn’t limit to one’s place in society (symmetry); equal treatment does not depend on equal appearance.

 

References:

“Museum of Anthropology at UBC.” Collection Online | Museum of Anthropology at UBC, collection-online.moa.ubc.ca/home.

His & Her first day of school- A traumatic history.

Among all the beautiful crafts and exhibits in the Multiversity Gallery in Museum of Anthropology, there are two photographic images of a girl and boy pictured in their school uniforms and titled her first of school and his first day of school by Dionne Paul. The pictures are presented vertically, first comes the image of the girl and below is the boy. The image is a color print except their uniform portion is overlapped with a black and white image of probably the real image of the school uniform back then. The girl dressed up in a coat and gloves while the boy is dressed in a shirt, trousers, tie, gloves and a sweater like waist-coat. We see both the children with happy smiles on their face and your first impression is ‘oh look happy kids’, but the real shock is delivered when the Artist’s statement is read.

In brief, the artist’s note describes how difficult it was for the Indigenous families and kids to be away from each other at an unknown and unsafe surrounding where they were brutally treated because of who they were and how different they were. Dionne also states that these two works are a visual manifestation of the crimes against humanity which was conducted one short generation ago at 139 Indian residential schools in Canada. She also shares personal information of her dad being a day scholar at the Sechelt Indian Residential School, which was closed in 1975.

I believe the Dionne meets Robert Houle’s definition of an “artist-warrior” as she is brave and has the courage to show to share the story of the struggles faced by the indigenous families and allow the piece to be displayed in a western- modern museum which satisfies to what Robert described it as “hostile territory”. I am super grateful for the access given to us (general public) to learn about the horrific past of the indigenous culture.

I, myself being bought up in a different country (Uganda) have never faced this kind of behavior or struggle. I honestly had no idea about any of the Indigenous culture and has been the opportunity to know and understand about it means a lot. Somehow it deeply hurts me to know about all these crimes committed a few years back but I hope we are able to contribute to making a better society

 

References:

Paul, Dionne. Her First Day of School. 2013, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC.

Paul, Dionne. His First Day of School. 2013, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC.

Kramer, Jennnifer. “Figurative Repatriation: First Nations ‘Artist-Warrior’s Recover, Reclaim, and Return Cultural Property through Self-Definition.” Journal of Material Culture, 2014, pp. 161-182.

Peter Morin’s This Song is a Museum

For context, Peter Morin is a Tahltan Nation artist currently based in Victoria, BC. His art deals with indigenous identity and language. His 2011 work, “This Song is a Museum”, escapes the mold of western contemporary art in a key way: It depicts a non-visual art visually, while staying true to its roots as indigenous art.
The piece itself was prepared with the assistance of Coast Salish singer Hwieumten. The Vancouver Museum of Anthropology notes: “By using a drumstick covered in black paint, Hwieumten inscribed each of these five elk-skin drums with the act and therefore the memory – of singing.” While this process sounds random and haphazard, its intricacy lies in its cultural roots and purpose: to show the unbridled energy of indigenous music. The singing is what’s being conveyed, in the simplicity of black paint on white drums.

It demands the spectator’s attention: it isn’t a pretty painting, it is a manifestation of indigenous culture. The piece also circumvents the limitations of museums by operating in its own format, as explained by the Museum of Anthropology’s inscription: “The museum has a tendency to lose the singing. The voice connected to the objects becomes hard to reach. I wanted to figure out an indigenous way to document the song using indigenous materials. The drums are a record of his [Hwieumten’s] practice of Indigenous knowledge.” To get the most out of this “visual song”, the spectator must understand the roots of the piece itself: the collaboration between indigenous artists, and the meaning behind its construction (e.g. the initially puzzling splashes of black on the drum). Not to mention, using the drum as a canvas for indigenous expression may fly over the head of many viewers. Without said information, the piece may come across as abstract expressionism, or misunderstood in general. But with it, the art becomes transcendental in nature. To discuss this piece in the context of figurative repatriation, Morin has brought the medium of music, more specifically indigenous singing, to a digestible visual token. By expressing music – a universal medium – in indigenous terms to both native and foreign audiences, figurative repatriation is wholly expressed. Kramer’s vision of a mutual repatriation is realized to the fullest, without artistic compromise or the watering down of materials.

Dionne Paul: Bringing Awareness to Generational Trauma at the MOA

There are two large photographic prints displayed near the exit/entrance of the Multiversity Gallery. They are encased within a glass case. Dionne Paul’s “Her First Day of School (2013)” is displayed at the top, with “His First Day of School (2013)” displayed below. Both pieces feature a colour photograph of a child, a girl and a boy respectively in uniform. In the middle of the photographs are different photographs placed on top of the colour photographs. They are black and white photographs that are the torsos and thighs of other children, placed on top of the colour photographs aligned with the respective body parts of the children in the colour photograph.

It is one of the few photography pieces in the space. It is surrounded by glass cases full of various indigenous artifacts. I think the artist meets Robert Houle’s definition of an “artist-warrior”. Dionne Paul is an Emily Carr University graduate, having been trained in a Western formal art school. Her pieces comment on the atrocities of residential schools and how they only occurred one generation ago. Paul makes use of photography to execute this piece, which is a fairly contemporary Western medium in contrast with the surrounding artifacts. This juxtaposition brings to mind Western technology’s impact on indigenous lives. Photography being a Western invention, Paul appropriates the medium to manifest the realities of residential schools. Photography as a medium historically has qualities of realness and a documentary-like nature that can’t be achieved by other mediums. By appropriating this quality, Paul provides a sense of immediacy to the impact and presence of residential schools. This part of indigenous history permeates all indigenous lives. Non-indigenous people and Canada needs to reckon with this part of history and they must be made aware that it still continues to affect the indigenous peoples now. The choice of medium also contests the idea of authentic indigenous art.

The work presumes that the viewer has knowledge of residential schools and the collective trauma that surrounds the institutions. Having grown up in Malaysia, I was not aware of this information until I was educated in an international high school that taught the Ontario syllabus. In some ways, colonial schooling has also impacted my life. Malaysia’s colonial schools were run by the British, who also ran the residential schools. Because of that history, English remains a lingua franca in Malaysia. My mother was educated in a convent school, a product of colonialism. My parents understood that English was far more important than other languages. So I grew up speaking English at the expense of the other languages of my culture. I’ve lost a significant part of my culture because I only understood English. My experience wasn’t as brutal as the residential schools, but it still was a product of colonialism.

Dionne Paul, An Artist-Warrior

From the clear glass doors of the Museum of Anthropologies Multiversity Galleries, Her First Day of School and His First Day of School by Dionne Paul are visible. The two images that make up one piece together are situated at the entrance to many shelves and displays of artifacts. The image prints are stacked in a fixture with Her First Day of School on top and His First Day of School being below. Both images are quite similar. Each depicts a child on their first day of school and both smile as if posing for a proud parent. However, superimposed on top of what seems to be somewhat present-day photos, are black and white images of school uniforms that look quite old. The contrast to the coloured images and black and white images are very stark not only with their shades but with the styles. It is clear that the image that has been placed on top is from a different time period. The black and white uniform images are also left in a rectangular crop, making it obvious how deliberate Paul’s choice was and draws attention to what seems like a somewhat unsettling artistic choice. The effect of an old film strip surrounds the two children, connecting more with the old uniform images instead of the present day children. Below the images is a description plaque that completes the artworks, explaining that the black and white images are depictions of residential schools.

The Multiversity Galleries contains many artifacts and items that have been collected, donated, and purchased over the years. Her First Day of School and His First Day of School stand out as being considerably modern. The two pieces are photographic prints that have been edited and displayed. All around the fixture are wood carvings, traditional masks, baskets, and other Indigenous works. These items seem to be behind the prints, visible in the background when looking at the images’ fixture. In Figurative Repatriation: First Nation ‘Artist-Warriors’ Recover, Reclaim, and Return Cultural Property through Self-Definition, Jennifer Kramer discusses Robert Houle’s concept of the “artist-warrior” (173), artists that use the ways of modern art to start conversation and self-define their culture by creating works and placing them in Western museums. Paul’s two pieces are examples of this. The two images are to “juxtapose the atrocities of the Indian residential school experiences with the modern-day school experience,” as Paul states on the plaque. The photographs call the viewer to see and understand the differences between our understanding of school and the type of schooling that Indigenous children were forced into. With a rich culture surrounding these images, with the other pieces in the gallery, it paints a mental picture of what background these children were forced to give up.

When I first saw the two images, I was drawn in because the medium of photography felt familiar to me. The children looked happy and cute but the black and white image made me realize that there was something different going on than just a picture of kids on their first day of school. I have studied the residential schools in the past so I already knew about the horrible things that happened there, and sadly not too long ago. I found the presentation of the two pieces was done is an excellent way to spark conversation for us in a Western culture in its familiar and contrasting format compared to the works around it.

 

References:

Kramer, Jennifer. “Figurative Repatriation”. Journal Of Material Culture, vol 9, no. 2, 2004, pp. 161-182. SAGE Publications, doi:10.1177/1359183504044370. Accessed 18 Jan 2019.

Paul, Dionne. Her First Day of School. 2013, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC.

Paul, Dionne. His First Day of School. 2013, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC.

 

Dionne Paul’s Illustrates Indigenous History Through Art

The photographed artwork, ‘His First Day of School’ and ‘Her First Day of School’ by Dionne Paul is hung up in the Multi Diversity Gallery at the Museum of Anthropology. These photographs display a momentous period in Canada’s history, which, to this day impacts Indigenous communities. The large images emphasize on the history and modern context behind Canadian children’s first day of school. Starting school is presumed to be a very joyous day for both the parents and the children, but these images recall the sinister era of residential schooling. The first day of school for the Indigenous youth was terrifying and foreign, coinciding with the parents who were forced to legally send their children away to be assimilated to Western culture. Dionne Paul’s work captures modern Indigenous children overlapped by images of residential school uniforms worn by the past Indigenous children.

Dionne Paul is a member of the Nuxalk Nation and Sechelt Nation and is a proud Indigenous artist. Her courage to educate an audience on Canada’s atrocious past is signified when she presents the somber time through her simple but powerful artwork. According to Robert Houle’s definition of artist-warrior, which explains the bravery of artists who “create artworks that respond to and sometimes appropriate the language of the western art world” (Kramer, pg. 173). Dionne Paul does exactly as she presents Indigenous art in a Western museum. Not only did she present Indigenous artwork, she presented a piece of artwork that does not emit a peaceful feeling. It recaptures a frightful time where First Nation children were taken from their families and were forced to strip away their culture. These residential schools were thought to be good for these children but what happened in these schools are unforgettable; as these children were abused if they spoke their native language, sexually assaulted and were forced to practice Christianity. With all these reasons in mind, Dionne Paul boldly captured what colonizers did to First Nations and displayed their wrongful actions in a Western museum for the Western world to see. Her memorable art piece takes the power of western culture in the museum and draws that attention to showcase the hardships faced by the First Nations children, which leads me to believe that she is an artist-warrior.

This art piece resonated with me as it reminded of a film I watched called, “We Were Children” by Tim Wolochatiuk. I grew up in Ontario where I do not remember learning much about Canada’s history with the First Nations. We were taught in the point of the view of the colonizers and therefore did not know the truth behind Canada’s race problem. The history of treating the Indigenous the way we did has lead to there being a grand race problem in Canada. The Indigenous peoples are still suffering to this day because of our actions. Canadians are not educated on this issue and I believe the education system must teach the youth at a young age about this problem.

References:

Kramer, Jennifer. “Figurative Repatriation: First Nations ‘Artist-Warriors’ Recover, Reclaim, and                Return Cultural Property through Self-Definition.” Journal of Material Culture, vol. 9, no. 2, July 2004, pp. 161–182, doi:10.1177/1359183504044370.

‘Nusi- Unification and Protecting Against a Common Threat

Near the center of the Museum of Anthropology’s Multiversity Gallery, ’Nusi’s One Mind, One Heart is brightly lit and stands as the center piece of the room it hangs in. ’Nusi’s piece is a visage, a war-paint wooden mask with an oil rigger clamped in its jaws. The mask has been carved in what could be considered an angered expression. Beneath the mask, there are three separate images. Each are of protest- one is a march against the placement of oil pipelines, one is a depiction of a man standing alone, and the third is an image of a group of people in protest near docks in traditional vestments. The artist’s statement describes the piece as “support in opposing the Enbridge Pipeline project.” The artist also describes One Mind, One Heart, as a direct protest against the practice of establishing oil pipelines across Indigenous Territory. This sentiment can be seen in both the pictures beneath the mask and the mask itself- the mask itself depicts an oil rigger being crushed in the jaws of the mask, while the pictures beneath it show Indigenous people in all walks of life. This could be considered as a call for unity between Indigenous peoples against what many see as practices tarnishing Indigenous lands.

One Mind, One Heart isn’t necessarily representative of contemporary art- rather, it matches much of the rest of the room in being relatively traditional in nature. It acts as the center piece for the space that it’s in- it is brightly lit, as opposed to the more dim lighting in the other parts of the room. This room itself acts as a gallery for more traditional pieces; while there are some art pieces in the overall exhibit which could be considered more contemporary, they are the exception rather than the norm in this case. Themes of unity against an entity are main takeaway from the overall piece- though this is not a lesson that broader exhibit is trying to convey.

The writings on the piece reflect on this idea as well- the artist’s statement and the other information on the piece describe how the mask is a depiction of the ancient teachings of the Heiltsuk to protect their lands and territories against threats- threats that are now materialized in the form of the oil pipelines. The mask itself is made to depict the ancestral guardian ’Yagis, who is the main representative of these cultural teachings. Reflecting on the piece as a whole, it appears that to fully understand the piece, one would need prior knowledge of Heiltsuk culture. Is the guardian ’Yagis representative of all of Heiltsuk culture, or as more of a protector? I wonder if using a more broad symbol than ’Yagis, would the piece possibly do more to unify Indigenous peoples against a common threat?