Our Tribute To Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew

We would like to like to dedicate our Digital Story assignment to the life and work of Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew. We hope to pay tribute to Maskegon-Iskwew by adding layers of sounds to Cheryl L’Hirondelle’s recording of a poem entitled Disintegration. This poem was composed by Greg Daniels and was featured on Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew’s website, Speaking the Language of Spiders. Additionally, we have selected the images that accompany Disintegration from Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders to as a way reflect further on this work. Before we begin, we would also like to acknowledge that we are white settlers living and learning on the traditional, ancestral and unceded territory of the hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓ speaking xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam) – People of the River Grass.

Speaking the Language of Spiders is a unique cyberspace that uses hyperlinks to showcase the poems of many Indigenous artists such as Greg Daniels, Lynn Acoose, Cheryl L’Hirondelle, etc. It uses a non-linear method of site navigation that is disorienting and challenges colonializing societal norms about how websites should be consumed. An eloquent statement made by a colleague of Maskegon-Iskwew named “S.U.” on why Speaking the Language of Spiders is formatted the way it is can be viewed here. The website is formatted as a web of knowledge, where each hyperlink of an image takes the user to a poem. The image of the buffalo looms in the corner of each page, and upon clicking it the user is returned to the centre of the web(site).

Speaking the Language of Spiders was a ground-breaking website that encouraged other Indigenous artists to use new media to showcase their artwork. A friend of Maskegon-Iskwew, Cheryl L’Hirondelle created a beautiful rendition of Speaking the Language of Spiders entitled Loving the Language of Spiders. In this tribute, Maskegon-Iskwew’s is remembered through snippets of conversations and memories and stories about his work. These are paired with artistic interpretations of each poem. We hope to honour Maskegon-Iskwew’s work by adding another layer to Cheryl L’Hirondelle’s rendition of Disintegration. We chose this poem because of the imagery it evoked for us and the sense of passing we felt after reading it.

Furthermore, we view Speaking the Language of Spiders as an example of Indigenous Futurism because it embraces technology to create an Aboriginally-determined cyberspace where Indigenous voices are at the forefront and colonial notions of rapid consumerism are restricted. We also envision Speaking the Language of Spiders as an illustration of screen sovereignty. Kirsten Dowell defines screen sovereignty as, “the articulation of Aboriginal people’s distinct cultural traditions, political status, and collective identities through cinematic and aesthetic means” in Vancouver’s Aboriginal Media World (Dowell, 2013, p. 2). To illustrate, Maskegon-Iskwew engages with screen sovereignty by demonstrating Indigenous artists’ collective identities through self-representation. He also uses Indigenous hypertextuality by creating an interconnected virtual mindmap and linking layers of poems to images (Haas, 2007, p. 83)

Here is our interpretation of Cheryl L’Hirondelle’s audio podcast of Disintegration. After you have listened to our recording, you can find images from Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders and a paragraph where we reflect on our positionality.

 

 

We created a spider web to represent the connections between the poem Disintegration on Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders. 

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As previously mentioned, we are interacting with the Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew’s cyberspace as white settlers. We will reflect further on our positionality and how it affects how we engage with the Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders webpages. Further, we would like to also reflect on how our tribute and Cheryl L’Hirondelle’s tribute to Maskegon-Iskwew differ based on our respective positionalities. To clarify, we are not responding directly to the content of L’Hirondelle’s tribute, but rather the ways that she is able to interact with Maskegon-Iskwew’s memory and the Speaking the Language of Spiders website.

Cheryl L’Hirondelle is a woman of Metis/Cree-non status/treaty, French, German, and Polish descent. She was part of creating the Speaking the Language of Spiders website alongside Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew. As a result, she was at the forefront of shaping Indigenous cyberspace. L’Hirondelle’s motivation may have been similar to that of Lewis & Skawennati (2005) when discussing their involvement with CyberPowWow. “As like-minded people [Aboriginal contemporary artists separated by vast distances], we saw the internet as a valuable tool for community building” (p. 109). Using the internet as a tool, L’Hirondelle, Lewis, and Skawennati, all connected this group despite the large degrees of separation between them.

In comparison, as millennial white settlers, we have become accustomed to websites that prioritize a straightforward, friendly, and linear user experience. The viewpoint that facilities this system – Western and colonial – is the perspective we have become attached to. Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders challenges our experiences because it does not adhere to colonial norms. However, Speaking the Language of Spiders was not created simply so that non-Indigenous peoples could have their assumptions challenged. Speaking the Language of Spiders is also an example of screen sovereignty. As Kirsten Dowell highlights, “… the consideration of an Aboriginal audience for Aboriginal media also expresses visual sovereignty” (Dowell, 2013 p. 3). Speaking the Language of Spiders was created by Indigenous peoples for Indigenous peoples to engage with Indigenous new media.

Speaking the Language of Spiders and Loving the Language of Spiders are Aboriginally-determined cyberspaces by Ahasiw Maskegon-Iskwew and Cheryl L’Hirondelle, respectively. As guests in these cyberspaces, we are honoured to be interacting with these sites.

References:

HunteR4708, creator. Knock on the Door. Freesound.org, 3 Dec. 2014, https://www.freesound.org/people/HunteR4708/sounds/256513/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

—, creator. Rain Interior Perspective. Freesound.org, 28 Oct. 2015, https://www.freesound.org/people/HunteR4708/sounds/326359/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

Tomlija, creator. Kicking an Empty 20 Oz Beer Can. Freesound.org, 12 Oct. 2010, https://www.freesound.org/people/Tomlija/sounds/106611/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

Daniels, Greg, author. “Disintegration.” Isi-Pikiskwewin Ayahpikesisak (Speaking the Language of Spiders), 1996, http://www.spiderlanguage.net/disintegration.html. Accessed 2 Dec. 2016.

Dowell, Kirsten. “Vancouver’s Aboriginal Media World” in Sovereign Screens: Aboriginal Media on the Canadian West Coast, pp. 1-20. University of Nebraska Press.

kangaroovindaloo, creator. Medium Wind. Freesound.org, 10 Nov. 2013, https://www.freesound.org/people/kangaroovindaloo/sounds/205966/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

Haas, Angela M. “Wampum as Hypertext: An American Indian Intellectual Tradition of Multimedia Theory and Practice” in Studies in American Indian Literature, 19.4, pp. 77-100. University of Nebraska Press.

L’Hirondelle, Cheryl, performer. Disintegration. SoundCloud, 19 Apr. 2012, https://soundcloud.com/cheryllhirondelle/disintegration. Accessed 1 Dec. 2016.

—, writer. “The Spider Takes Many Forms.” Loving the Spider, 2012, http://lovingthespider.net/?page_id=177. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

Lieberkind, Patrick, creator. Dark Ambience. Freesound.org, 2014, https://www.freesound.org/people/PatrickLieberkind/sounds/244961/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

Maskegon-Iskwew, Ahasiw, aritist. “Buffalo.” 1996.

—, artist. CyberPowWow Cross. 2012.

—, artist. “Prairie Piece.” 1996.

—, artist. “Spider.” 1996.

—, producer. “Spider Language.” Isi-Pikiskwewin Ayahpikesisak (Speaking the Language of Spiders), 1996, http://www.spiderlanguage.net/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

—, creator. Tipicabin3. 2012.

—, artist. White Shame. 2012.

Tricia Fragnito, Skawennati, and Jason Lewis, curators. “Welcome to CyberPowWow.” CyberPowWow, 2006, http://www.cyberpowwow.net/. Accessed 12 Dec. 2016.

 

Reflections on Indigenous Futurism

Indigenous Futurism is a platform by which Indigenous peoples are able to combat dominant narratives that feed into the colonial project and the notion that Indigenous people are “in the past”. To define Indigenous Futurism within the context of this paper, I will draw on outside sources such as Alicia Inez Guzman. My definition of Indigenous Futurism is best illustrated when Guzman states that those who create Indigenous Futurism, “embrace technology in all it’s instantiations, from the galactic machinations presented in the compilation to game design, Indigenous speculative fiction writing, artistic production, and the potential for space travel, whether imaginative or cosmological…the understanding that technology is essential to contemporary Indigenous constructions of selfhood contrasts longstanding notions of Native peoples as artifacts of a bygone past” (Guzman, 2015). Therefore, Skawennati demonstrates Indigenous Futurism through new media that hosts an imaginary of future Indigenous peoples. This imaginary combats colonializing discourses of Indigenous people by demonstrating the agency of Indigenous people to decide their own future, as well as highlighting the resilience and survivance demonstrated by characters in TimeTraveller.

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Floating Jingle Dancers

One of the starkest examples of Indigenous Futurism in TimeTraveller is that InterGalactic PowWow in 2112. Karahkwenhawai dances among the rows of Jingle Dancers as the commentator discusses past tales of how the PowWow was historically banned because of fear that Indigenous people would “plan.” The commentator also notes how Indigenous people met in private as a method of resistance, until the PowWow became an internationally (and intergalactically) recognized and televised event. The tale of how the PowWow was previously banned is met with boos and anger from the audience, a clear demonstration of Indigenous resistance. Additionally, the floating jingle dancers point out how the intergalactic Powwow is not just a resurgence of publically held Indigenous traditions, but building on traditions to add a new dimension to Indigenous celebration. The regalia fashion advertisement on the big screen is important because it highlights how in our current world, Western displays of fashion are the unmarked “norm” in society. Skawennati’s world imagines regalia as being the norm in international fashion shows. The famous “Dead Mohawks” band that plays on the big screen during the PowWow is another assertion of Indigenous survivance in a futuristic context. It is also worthwhile to note that the PowWow takes place at the Winnipeg Olympic stadium, a nod towards how in the future Indigenous people will reclaim spaces historically European spaces (as the Olympics were born from Greece) where Indigenous peoples have been marginalized.

In addition to futuristic settings, scenes from the past are also reimagined through an Indigenous lens. Although these scenes exist in the past, they are still an example of Indigenous Futurism because of the insertion of Indigenous technological perspectives into the scene. In Episode 3, Hunter is portrayed in the opening scene as the Mohawk warrior from the famous photograph of the standoff with a soldier during the Oka Crisis. The original photograph and the media that followed frames the Mohawk warrior as a danger to the white soldier, however in TimeTraveller we hear the soldier say the word “motherfucker” to Hunter. This is a side of the story that was not depicted in the framing of the Oka Crisis by dominant media at the time. Although this is a photograph of a scene from 26 years ago, Skawennati is able to critique and examine it in a futuristic context.

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TimeTraveller
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Original Photograph

Adding to the layers of Indigenous Futurism in TimeTraveller, there are many ways by which Skawennati engages in screen sovereignty by creating an Aboriginally-determined cyberspace. As Lewis and Skawennati stated, “The World Wide Web has offered us the possibility to shape our own representations and make them known” (2005). Hunter and Karahkwenhawai are avatars that self-determine their position in time and the identity they choose to take on when entering a new time period, such as when Karahkwenhawai chose to participate as a jingle dancer or Hunter chose to sacrifice himself at Aztec to he could have a life with Karahkwenhawai. Additionally, Shakwennati draws attention to the different confederacies for different nations that were created alongside countries such as Canada or the United States of America in the future. This is an another example of Aboriginal screen sovereignty that shows Indigenous nations having sovereign rights.

Although Hunter and Karahkwenhawai are able to self-determine their identity, they cannot change the events of the past. However, they are very much the heroes of the story. They support the people of the scenes they visit indirectly and their influence is felt greatly. At Alcatraz, they supported the actions of Richard Oaks in reclaiming the land, and Karahkwenhawai supported Kateri Tekakwitha in her final days. The justice-seeking and advocacy that Hunter and Karahkwenhawai reminded me greatly of the vigilante protagonist from A Red Girl’s Reasoning by Elle-Maja Tailfeathers.

On the next episode of TimeTraveller:

Hunter and Karahkwenhawai travel back in time to Virginia in the 1600’s. They meet Pocahontas and learn about her home, her interests and her personality. They follow her on her journey to England and witness the events that led to her death. Since Hunter and Karahkwenhawai cannot change the past, Karahkwenhawai would write a book about what actually happened to Pocahontas. She could also choose to create an art exhibit dedicated to her, either in 21st-century style art by painting a portrait of what she really looked like, an online gallery, or a futuristic virtual reality headset where one could visit her home of with the Powhatan nation. The choice of music would also be very intentional as it was in TimeTraveller, with songs that fit the mood of the particular episode but also range from techno music to drumming and singing, with some songs being a mash-up of both. Hunter and Karahkwenhawai would travel all around the world and talk about Pocahontas’s life (and they would travel from country to country on a Mohawk passport successfully). They would talk about her spirit, but they would also acknowledge how Pocahontas was previously a classic Disney film the problematic Indigenous representation in the film, and also how many people didn’t understand how young she was at the time of her death. They would tell people that her real name was Matoaka. They would talk about how many people have dishonoured Pocahontas’s memory in the past but they would also discuss how we can honour her in the future. Due to Hunter and Karahkwenhawai’s advocacy and truth telling, people would build a memorial for her in the city of Montreal and Virginia, and people who visit her grave in London would leave flowers at her grave regularly.

pocahontas

Pocahontas’ Grave

To conclude, Skawennati’s vision is not what the world would look like in the future if settlers had never made contact- it is instead an excellent example of Indigenous Futurism from where we are now and resistance to the colonial project. It is an example of what the world could look like in the future.

References:

Lewis, Jason and Skawennati Tricia Fragnito “Aboriginal Territories in Cyberspace” Cultural Survival, 29.2, 2005. Accessed Nov. 29, 2016

Guzman, Alice Inez. 2015. Indigenous Futurisms. InVisibleCulture: An Electronic Journal for Visual Culture. Retrieved Nov. 30, 2016. URL: https://ivc.lib.rochester.edu/indigenous-futurisms/

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