Joi T Arcand & Ursula Johnson- Art in 2017: A View from Turtle Island
Canadian Art
ESSAYS / DECEMBER 28, 2017
Art in 2017: A View from Turtle Island
Strong exhibitions in Winnipeg, Kitchener-Waterloo and Toronto highlight an Indigenous critic’s year-end bests
by Lindsay Nixon (exerpt, reposted from Canadian Art website)
The year was an exciting one for Indigenous art in so-called Canada—likely somewhat propelled by the Canada Council’s newly created funding stream for Indigenous art. I can’t think of another period—outside of 1992, the 350th anniversary of the birth of Montreal and 500 years since Columbus did not discover America—when Indigenous art was this dynamic. This year was host to a diverse group of new voices for Indigenous art, an array of artists and curators who established themselves as strong leaders and key figures in this new wave of contemporary Indigenous art. Joi T. Arcand, Dayna Danger, Asinnajaq, Jade Nasogaluak Carpenter, Becca Taylor, Tsēma Igharas, Jeneen Frei Njootli and Lacie Buring come to mind, to name only a few. Is what Tanya Harnett told me true—are we witnessing the emergence of a seventh wave in Indigenous art within so-called Canada? Whatever this moment is, it’s adamantly feminist; run by women, gender variant and sexually diverse peoples; and entrenched in values of care and reciprocity.
Selecting only a couple events for this year-end review was difficult. Of course, my selection is based on what I was personally able to see, which feels so limiting considering all the Indigenous art happenings that transpired this year. I could mention many other highlights such as Tiffany Collinge’s installation at the National Gathering of Elders, or Ociciwan’s showing of Dayna Danger’s Big’Uns series at Latitude 53, more respectably and reciprocally installed than I’ve witnessed to date. Community favourite Ursula Johnson won the Sobey Art Award, and there wasn’t a dry eye in Indigenous art across Turtle Island. Ursula’s win also signalled something bigger—a shift in Indigenous art, perhaps, and the ushering in of a new generation of diverse and loving voices. The street art convergence in Montreal that proves women are leading this generation’s Indigenous muralism movement. Witnessing queer and trans Indigenous artists displayed so prominently and with such reverence at the Vancouver Queer Arts Festival was another personal highlight—in particular, the careful work Adrian Stimson put into curating an art show for QAF that was intergenerational, representative of vast territories and communities, and activated by a community of queer Indigenous artists. Even from a distance, Stimson’s show felt like the intent and action of an established artist carving out spaces for new generations of queer artists.
“Insurgence/Resurgence,” however, was chock-full of voices from the next generation of Indigenous art. As I moved further into space, I came upon one of Joi T. Arcand’s now-viral syllabic interventions installed into the staircase leading up to the second floor of the WAG: Don’t Speak English (2017). Arcand, a renowned syllabics nerd, restructures spatialities with her mediations that immediately alienate settlers with their presence. Much like Bennett and Barsy’s paintings, Arcand’s works have created an Instagram sensation this year, likely because she seems to understand the visualities of the fem Indigenous future quite genuinely. Unfriendly NDN hotties are enacting social media sovereignty, taking back digital space one “don’t-fuck-with-me” stare at a time with their rapid sharing of Arcand’s work through Indigenous feminist selfies (perhaps even alongside an Aunty Magic earring or two).
After a particularly difficult year in the Indigenous art industry, I was moved to tears while taking in Asinnajaq’s work.
Tunnit isn’t the only appearance of Indigenous tattooing practices in “Insurgence/Resurgence.” Earthline Tattoo Collective, which is committed to reclaiming Indigenous tattooing practices as well as mentoring other Indigenous peoples in tattooing practices, received a license and gave tattoos at the opening for “Insurgence/Resurgence.” Its makeshift “tattoo studios,” decorated with personal objects of intimate importance to the artists, will remain in the space for the rest of the time the show is up. Designs that emulate Indigenous tattoo aesthetics were also used on the cover of the catalog for “Insurgence/Resurgence.” The last several years have seen a vast reclamation of Indigenous tattooing practices, and a recognition of their essential spiritual, political and cultural power within Indigenous art.
Again, I wish I could go into greater depth about the amazing artworks I experienced at “Insurgence/Resurgence.” For instance, Tsēma Igharas is quickly becoming one of my favorite artists, and Esghanãnã (Reclamation) Series (2016) did not disappoint. Here, Igharas continues her material exploration into the visualities, spirit, language and power of urban Indigenous resistance. It is much like her previous rebel rock series, but this time manifested through stencils, spray-paint and sound. I can’t wait to see where Igharas takes her potsent vision next. Amanda Strong’s work Biidaaban (2017) screens at the show, and her carefully constructed mini sets are on display. Strong is quickly situating herself as having a potent voice and a meticulous practice, and as an artist to watch. Nagam and Isaac’s newly published catalog is fabulous and well worth the purchase, for in-depth considerations of all the works present at “Insurgence/Resurgence.” I’m anticipating what is to come from dream team Isaac and Nagam, and I feel so incredibly lucky to have witnessed the fantastic achievement of “Insurgence/Resurgence.”
Lindsay Nixon is Indigenous editor-at-large of Canadian Art.