Monthly Archives: January 2019

By no means, one could ignore the composition One Mind, One Heart by Ian Reid. Strategically located in the Multiversity Gallery of the Museum of Anthropology (MOA), it is one of those pieces that catch the attention of the viewer immediately, even if surrounded by many other remarkable artworks. It features a big mask in the centre, painted and carved precisely, surrounded by photos of the Heiltsuk community members and a declaration against the Enbridge Pipeline Project and the oil tanker traffic in their territory. The mask is a portrayal of the ancient sea spirit ’Yágis, which is represented protecting the sacred waters of the First Nations, swallowing a super tank. The exhibition also contains an interactive component: a tablet full of videos, documents, photos, and even letters from the people in the Heiltsuk community.

The entire art piece carries deep meaning and vigorous criticism, moreover, it is precisely calculated for western people to see it. The installation’s ambition is to protest against the pipeline and the oil tanks, but much more than that, it is a “no!” to the contemporary colonization and the abuse of the First Nation’s territory. In the Museum of Anthropology, the dominance is not in the hands of the indigenous peoples, it is a westernized place, controlled by non-native authorities with an essentially non-native public. As a result, First Nations artists, find themselves in a place of duality between vulnerability and power, being able to expose their pieces and forcing the audience to see through a different perspective, however, at the same time, still being categorized and controlled by outsiders. (Kramer, 173) Ian Reid, in this context, fits Robert Houle’s definition of an artist warrior. By meaningfully choosing to display his work in the MOA, he is teaching the western community by provoking “reaction and acknowledgement”, it is an action towards social change. When he shows the point of view of not only the Heiltsuk community but the whole aboriginal nations on the pipeline project and oil traffic, it is also a way to earn repatriation, so that messages of native control and ownership can be heard, seen and witnessed by non-native people. (Kramer, 164)

Last but not least, I believe that the audience should have some knowledge in order to deeply understand how the conflicts with pipelines and oil traffic have been affecting indigenous peoples throughout the years. On the other hand, especially because it is a current news topic, I expect people to know, even if little, about it. However, even to a complete layperson, the composition is very much explanatory and exquisitely built.

Citations

Kramer, J. (2004). Figurative Repatriation: First Nations ‘Artist-Warriors’ Recover, Reclaim, and Return Cultural Property through Self-Definition. Journal of Material Culture, 9(2), 161–182. https://doi.org/10.1177/1359183504044370.

Bonar, Thane. “One Mind, One Heart exhibit at MOA” December 14, 2012 – April 28, 2013, Multiversity Galleries, Exhibit Case 23. Museum of Anthropology Web. 21 Jan. 2019.

Reid, Ian. “One Mind, One Heart”. 2012, Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC.

Amidst the indigenous art in the Multiversity Gallery within the Museum of Anthropology, is Dionne Paul’s Her First Day of School and His First Day of School, a contemporary photographic piece that serves as a symbol for the injustice that took place in Indian residential schools across Canada. The photographs are those of Paul’s children at the age of four on their first day of school, smiling and dressed immaculately in their uniforms. These photographs, however, have an old black and white overlay of the uniforms that were worn by students of residential schools which draws attention to the artist’s message modern-day schooling experiences are very different from those of Indian residential schools. Paul’s artistic statement which accompanies these artworks elaborates on the mistreatment of indigenous children, stating that these schools lacked strong curriculums, medical provision, and good quality food which is in contrast to the attention to detail put towards schooling across Canada now (Paul 2013).

Having been raised in India, there was little to no focus on indigenous studies in our curriculums since the courses mainly focused on Indian and Western narratives which lead to my oblivion towards the transgressions against indigenous communities and specifically, the treatment of indigenous children in these residential schools. The artist, however, explicitly mentions historical details in her statement which provides sufficient understanding of the trauma faced by indigenous communities for those with limited background information like myself, and this further helps evoke feelings of empathy.

Her First Day of School and His First Day of School serve as an important reminder that these brutalities did not occur far in the past, but in reality, as recently as 1975, which is why it is critical for contemporary artists to bring to light their indigenous identity and history in Western settings, such as the University of British Columbia’s Museum of Anthropology. This resonates closely with Robert Houle’s definition of an “artist-warrior,” since Paul’s work deviates from preconceived notions that authentic indigenous art is meant to look ‘traditional’ by using a contemporary style photograph print which somewhat appropriates Western art. By juxtaposing ‘Western’ uniforms with ‘Indian’ uniforms and modern schooling experiences with Indian residential school experiences in this ‘hostile territory’, she is not only able to challenge the notion that these wrongdoings against indigenous communities were not in the distant past and still do persist, but she also could construct a new indigenous identity by alluding to the past in contemporary forms (Kramer 173).

References:

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

Paul, Dionne. Her 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.

Michael Nicoli Yahgulanaas’ Bone Box struck me as a particularly unique artwork at the Museum of Anthropology partly because of its aesthetic, and partly because of what it represents. Located in a hallway adjacent to the museum’s Great Hall, Bone Box consists of twelve wooden panels, which comprise one unified image, that are mounted on a metal frame. The brightly coloured imagery of the painting depicts various structures, nature, and mythical creatures. On the right is a handle that, when pulled, rotates the panels to reveal a message written across the top of the panels. It reads, “A stack of plywood trays built to contain fragments of everyone’s culture.”

Interestingly, despite the image being broken up across the panels, there are no neat borders. Instead, the imagery often occupies multiple panels. I realize that this may simply be a consequence of dividing a painting into 12 equal squares, however the result contributes to its themes. The picture as a whole has a very symmetrical composition, with the broad lines and large shapes being mirrored in the right and left halves of the painting. However, the details within these shapes are distinct from one another. If Bone Box is an act of figurative repatriation, it seems that Yahgulanaas’ redefinition of Indigenous identity would be as a unified community with space to include many distinct cultures and communities.

Furthermore, the artwork is an invitation to participate. It does not rely on extensive prior knowledge about Indigenous peoples, but rather is an approachable piece that can be easily appreciated and interpreted. Bone Box’s participatory nature can be seen in a literal sense in the interactive element of the handle, which encourages viewers to physically engage with the artwork. Metaphorically, it is an invitation to participate and “get involved” in Indigenous culture. It seems that to Yahgulanaas, Bone Box represents not only the culture and tradition of Indigenous peoples, but “everyone’s culture” as the artwork’s message states. For this reason, I would argue that Yahgulanaas does not aim to achieve Kramer’s idea of figurative repatriation. Although it does include the artist’s understanding of Indigenous culture and is displayed for the viewing of a western demographic, Bone Box goes beyond merely representing Indigenous culture to inviting others to come and see and take part in it.

Works Cited:

Yahgulanaas, Michael Nicoli. Bone Box. 2007, 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, 2004, pp. 161-182

‘His First Day of School’ and ‘Her First Day of School’ by Dionne Paul are two large photographic representations of Canada’s dark history regarding the education system,placed in the Multiversity Gallery at the Museum Of Anthropology. A young boy/girl (depending on which art piece) stands in the center of the photo. His/her smiling face and lower legs are in color, while his/her torso and upper legs are surrounded by a rectangular black & white, X-ray type image on top of the the color picture. Inside the rectangle he is wearing a neat suit coat, pants and tie, hands joined behind his back while she is wearing a neat white buttoned jacket that reaches to her knees and hands clasped together in front.

“These two pieces juxtapose the atrocities of the residential school experience with the modern school experience” (Paul, MOA)

The artist’s statement talks about how the first day of school for most parents is filled with nervousness yet the good kind of excitement for their children,whereas the first day of school for First Nations was a heartbreaking and tragic experience for parents who were legally forced to send their children for the entire school year, The children were subjected to an extremely unsafe environment. Cases of malnutrition,sexual abuse and unwanted pregnancies were quite common.

Dionne Paul fits the definition of an “artist warrior”  (Kramer,173) as she is brave enough to create a work of art which explicitly depicts the atrocities faced by the young children due to inequalities in the education system for the indigenous people. And like explained by Robert Houle in his definition of ‘artist warrior’, this piece of art remains hung in a western and otherwise contemporary  museum, where it has the ability to bring about a strong cultural and political change.

Being an Indian myself ran chills down my spine to see the kind of atrocities faced by the indigenous Indians in Canada. I believe that displaying this dark piece of art among other  indigenous objects was a rather brave move on the part of the curation staff, because it shows how even the traumatic parts of history ultimately do end up making the historic indigenous culture. And by displaying it, i feel like they are accepting it and taking it in their stride.  

These two pieces are visual manifestations of the crimes against humanity committed in the 139 residential schools in Canada and are relevant imagery when discussing a community as it is important to acknowledge all aspects of the history of a community

In the Elspeth McConnell Gallery of Northwest Coast Masterworks in the Museum of Anthropology, ‘Indigenizing’ artworks are exhibited in a glass case in the middle of the room surrounded with Indigenous artworks from the region. Artworks in this gallery are thematically classified by their historical backgrounds and appropriation stories. Indigenizing consists of a carved wooden angel (1886) attributed to Frederick Alexcee, a Parker Field’s craved wooden shotgun (Haida) and American eagle engraved bracelets (Haida), expressing the artists’ aggravating experiences of colonization in the 19th century. The wooden angel was craved and painted as a baptismal font taking the form of Christian-belief angel, with the European long blue-grey robe, a pair of deitylike wings and the left hand holding a black bowl while the right hand is raising in a blessing gesture. However, the angel’s physique still enfolds the traditional craven style of Tsimshian (Lax Kw’alaams) culture. The wooden craved shotgun is displayed on the right side of the angel. And the silver bracelets embellished American eagle are on its left.
The exhibition supersedes the unification and conflict of cultures, through the artwork of the American colonial period. Although they are centrally displayed among other conspicuous innovative Indigenous artifacts, the salient features of the colonizers’ influences have Indigenizing stand out of other exhibits. In one aspect, being conquered by the Christian people, the artists have presented their resilience by adapting their pieces of art for Indigenous cultural survival under the threatening situation. On the other hand, each artwork can be seen as the demonstrations of creative resistance the ‘artist-warrior’ created for bringing back their innovative Indigenous identity against the suppressing authority.
Even though I do not have prior knowledge or familiarity with the specific cultures, Tsimshian and Haida, nor the context of the artwork, the representation makes it clear about messages the art is telling. At first glance, I am also impressed by the contrast between two cultures shown in each creation. The curatorial statement interprets the artwork as the visual symbol of crash and convergence between Indigenous culture and European cultural control in terms of incompatibility and violence. Howsoever, regardless the imposed external appearances of the art pieces, the artists asserted their identity with the manifest designs indicating their spiritual believes and respect of doing the work. Their creative decisions indicate the alternative ways to embrace Indigenous identity just like its proximities in the gallery hall those their purposes are elaborately reignited to serve the changing world circumstances. As for the one who doesn’t get affiliated with the adversative history, the artworks have shown the interesting aspect of Indigenous artists on how they have dealt with the culture-assimilation problems and turned it into the opportunity to uphold their ownership to the creative masterpieces.

Work cited:
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.

The display in the Multiversity Gallery, “To Wash Away the Tears” by Hopokeltun (Shane Pointe), spoke to me the most out of any other artwork in the museum. Its presentation and the underlying message gets you thinking about the history of Aboriginals living in colonial times and also allows you to grasp a better understanding of their fight for identity. Its appearance consists of a large canoe with different items laying inside. There are handwoven blankets and paddles with traditional paintings and patterns and amongst that there are Elvis memorabilia. At first, it seems like a complete misrepresentation of Aboriginal identity and somewhat of a distraction from the fascinating cultural pieces displayed around it. This is the kind of reaction that “artist warriors”, as stated in the Kramer article, want to be rid of. Their main goal is to create a new conversation about Indigenous identity by challenging traditional forms of art with more contemporary pieces in western museums (Kramer 173).

On its left, you see a dated weaving tool that represents how they made beautiful blankets, and on its right, you can study the hundreds of different woven baskets used by generations of Indigenous people. These are the types of displays that people expect to see in an Aboriginal museum that has the goal to maintain the prosperity of Aboriginal identity and this is what Hopokeltun wants to change with his progressive artwork being the center of attention amongst all the history. But people still ask: why would the Musqueam Pointe family want to represent thousands of years of their family tree with Elvis memorabilia?

The answer is simply that his display does not represent the thousands of years of tradition, it is a token of respect to the sister Maggie of the Pointe family. Hopokeltun wanted to share the story that isn’t usually heard through artwork.  This piece specifically recognizes Maggie’s “attitude towards life”, which is the only information that we receive about her link to the artwork. Her “attitude towards life” consisted of rebelling against her already fragile culture and giving into the music of those that they were fighting against. We don’t exactly know this information from the description but it is suggested when you think about the history of Aboriginals in Canada. Hopokeltun chose to represent his families identity by physically showing the struggle that they faced with the constant invasion of the government trying to change their “savage-like” way of living to that of non-Aboriginal Canadians.

We can comprehend that the family and Maggie are still in touch with their culture from the contrasting pieces in the artwork; the historic canoe and traditional blankets. Although the more important items in this piece are those that do not belong to Aboriginal culture at all. It serves as a reminder that the Pointe family is not forgetting the history between the government and their people. I believe that people can interpret this piece in different ways depending on their own views. Although, it has an overall uniqueness and is meant to stand as a meaningful contemporary piece that should be in your thoughts as you peruse around the museum and when you walk through its doors. 

_MUSEUM OF ANTHROPOLOGY RESPONSE

This Song is a Museum (2011), provided by Peter Morin, who is a member of the Crow clan of the Tahltan First Nation in northwest British Columbia, is placed in a tall case near the entrance of the Multiversity Gallery in the Museum of Anthropology. Five painted octagonal drums and a wood drumstick with fur, skin, beads, and paint are exhibited in this conspicuous case. After reading the information in the accompanying plates, I can understand how this work is made and why it is named This Song is a Museum. In 2011, after dipping the drumstick into the black paint, Coast Salish singer Hwieumten, invited by Peter Morin, gave a performance with this drumstick and five drums. The drums with paint made by the drumstick actually have recorded the performance of the Indigenous people and are seen by Peter Morin as a fluid structure to carry Indigenous ideas. Actually, this work acts perfectly as “figurative repatriation”, for the reason that it has the function to tell the “non-native audiences” the mysterious but real life of the Tahltan in this case (Kramer 164).

Just like This Song is a Museum, cases around it are almost about Tahltan, and as introduced by a plate, Tahltan, a First Nations people, are original inhabitants of the Stikine River Watershed, which is also clearly shown in a map. Take a Dagoji (Dagger) for example, which is put on the back of This Song is a Museum, I can tell that it is used for war by Tahltan from the information provided. But different from the This Song is a Museum, this dagger is just a normal museum exhibit, to show a history or life of Indigenous people and is still. By saying “still”, I mean that I cannot tell any story from the dagger except it should be used in war. But when I see the drums with paint and the information given, I can almost see Hwieumten playing the drums and singing in the Tahltan way. Moreover, compared to the dagger, a physical object belonging to the Tahltan, This Song is a Museum just uses the drum provided by Peter Morin to record the Tahltan music.

After looking around the museum, I am wondering that what kind of work can be called as a “good work” in the museum. Does it need to have a long history? Does it need to be the property of the Indigenous people? Actually, This Song is a Museum and the Tahltan dagger are both good works from my perspective, for the reason that they both recognize the life of the Indigenous people and then inform us by showing the objects and the information given on the plates.

Reference
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

Surrounded by ceremonial masks and clothing, relics of time long ago, and entire collections from certain Indigenous groups, Her First Day of School and His First Day of School by Dionne Paul (2013) are a shocking reminder of a dark part of Canada’s history. Two large prints of photographs hang there, one of a girl and one of a boy, both age four and Indigenous, supposedly on their first day of school. They are mostly in colour, except for a square of black and white photo depicting a residential school uniform, clearly from an older photograph, each photoshopped over the torso of the children. The artist’s statement educates the viewer on the subject in case they are ignorant to it, and clearly states its purpose as a reminder of what the first day of school used to mean to Indigenous schoolchildren: being separated from their families, and being punished for practicing their culture.

After growing up in the 2000’s and being taught about the travesty of the residential schools in Canada, I understood the pieces without reading the artist’s statement, and it chilled me to the bone. It took me longer, however, to decide why the curation staff had placed this piece among the traditional dress and historical objects of various Indigenous groups. I believe it was placed among history and culture because it is a representation of this dark place in Indigenous history. The trauma of the residential schools has permanently affected Indigenous culture in Canada, because it devastated almost every Indigenous family in the country and destroyed cultures. It hangs among other historical artifacts in the museum, because in a way, it is also a representation of Indigenous history.

This piece of art hangs to the left of an artwork entitled To Wash Away the Tears, a canoe filled with memorabilia of family members passed. Over 3,000 families are connected by the items in the canoe, which include books, photographs, and figurines owned by the family member honoured. The other objects in the room are historical and culturally significant, including masks and traditional dress. Though Her/His First Day of School and To Wash Away the Tears are both more modern and contemporary works of art, they both represent history and culture the way that the artifacts do. The two works of art, especially His/Her First Day of School, demonstrate the theory of figurative repatriation because though different in execution than the other artifacts displayed, they all capture Indigenous culture in art.

In entering the Museum of Anthropology’s Multiversity Gallery, a piece by Heiltsuk artist, ’Nusí, Ian Reid, is displayed prominently as a centerpiece of the hallway. This artwork is called One Mind, One Heart (2012). The focus of the piece is a mask of ’Yágis, an ancestral guardian, holding an oil tanker in his mouth (1). The mask itself is carved out of red cedar, with details added using acrylic paint, horse hair, and metal. ’Yágis reflects the duty the Heiltsuk people feel towards protecting their land and water (1). The piece itself was made as a reaction to the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway Pipelines project. A position made clear by the texts surrounding the mask, as well as two photos of Heiltsuk marching and protesting, united in their opposition towards the project. One of the texts explains the artwork’s name in saying, “As Heiltsuk people, we are of one mind and one heart in opposing [the project] and oil tanker traffic in our territories.”

Within the Multiversity Gallery One Mind, One Heart does stand out a bit, and that may be the intent of the curators. In immediate proximity, specifically right behind the artwork, pieces closer resemble what I would call artifacts rather than art; as at least from a quick glance they all seem to have been made for practical reasons. When I first looked at ’Nusí’s piece I thought it belonged with all these artifacts; until I saw the boat and read the texts I understood the artistic value in it as it brings forward new meanings within the traditional art. Similarly to what Robert Houle refers to as artist-warriors, ’Nusí is taking back his culture’s art to dispute the preconceived ideas people had about what indigenous art really is and means. He breaks the conventional way people view indigenous art as he brings forward a more contemporary meaning. The curation of this piece within the gallery further shows this as this contemporary artwork is amidst the artifacts most people think of when considering indigenous art.

As for myself, being a foreigner to the artist’s culture, I still picked up on the references made towards the disputes over the pipeline, as the issue has often been covered in the news. However the perspective of the indigenous peoples’ was new to me, which the artwork helped to inform me on; additionally the texts, images, and tablet to the side helped a lot to understand the position of the Heiltsuk people. Admittedly, I did not at first have any context for what the mask was depicting and who ’Yágis was, which it assumes you already know. However, although these details are crucial, I still felt as though I had enough information to understand what it was trying to convey.

Works Cited:

(1) Bonar, Thane. “One Mind, One Heart Exhibit at MOA.” Aboriginal Portal, UBC, 2 Jan. 2013, aboriginal.ubc.ca/2013/01/02/one-mind-one-heart-exhibit-at-moa/. Accessed 20 January 2019.