Inuit artworks reflect intrusion

Page 11

REVIEW

Inuit and culture both survive, despite predictions in 1957 from art historians that both were headed for their demise. The northern people have shown themselves to be as hardy as the environment in which they live.

But that is not to deny the effect of western culture on the Inuit and their art. Some of that impact may be seen in the show Between Worlds at Edmonton's McMullen gallery until Dec. 31. This touring exhibit features some 40 Inuit artworks from the Bank of Montreal's collection.

The works are normally spread among the bank's offices in Calgary, Edmonton, Toronto, New York and London. It's highly unusual for these art pieces to tour, However the opening of a new branch in Richmond, B.C. spurred the community and the Richmond Art Gallery to request a show.

Bank art curator Catherine Williams pulled together a splendid collection of artworks from banks' various offices.

"If you were to visit certain areas now, it would look as if the bailiff swept through," she jokes.

That's good news for Edmonton. Some of the best-known, contemporary Inuit artists have work on display. Respected Cape Dorset printmaker Ashevak Kenojuak is represented, as is Jessie Oonark, Pudlo, and others.

To see the intrusion and effects of the south on the north, one need only to look at the series of felt wall-hangings incorporating fur and sealskin. These hangings originate from the Great Whale River in Quebec.

Last winter, five northern artists and five artists from Ontario and Quebec joined together. The Beyond Boundaries symposium resulted in a unique collaboration between two cultures.

The argument, though, could be made that this leads to further western influence on and dilution of Inuit art. Still, the art of the northern peoples demonstrates nothing if not resilience.

Look at the dramatic sculpture of a Hunter in Combat with Walrus, for instance. The piece is carved form a porous section of whalebone. Consider that the material itself comes from a once-living creature whose bones wash up on the frozen shores of the north. It takes 150-200 years for the bone to dry.

At some point, an artist whose name we no longer recall finds that bone and patiently shapes it into a story. He uses hand tools, such as chisels, hatchets, files and rasps.

"It's very much an expression of life," says Williams. "It's not only to pass stories and traditions on to the next generation, it's about living in the most beautiful but most harsh and unforgiving environment there is."