Na­mu­gau­ni­aqpita Ta­man­gat

Tisamat Inu­usiliit sauni­ganut ti­sisi­ma­jut am­malu Nu­taaq Uk­i­uq­taq­tumi Atuq­tauliq­tut

Inuit Art Quarterly - - COLLECTING GUIDE - titi­raq­tan­git Abra­ham Anghik Ruben

Una sanaguaqti taku­ti­ti­ju­naq­tuq im­makalaknit kisu­ruq­palianig­inik ujara­sukjuknit Inuit sanaguaqtig­inut ub­lumi. Ma­lik&ugu im­makalaknit qanuili­ganigit, im­minut am­malu sanaqataq­taminut, Anghik Ruben isumagi­ti­aqsi­ma­janga nalu­nan­gi­tuq pi­jaqni­laun­gi­tuq am­malu anginiq­paamik ki­in­au­jal­i­u­ru­tau­ju­naq­tuq maana am­malu sivu­niksa­tini in­u­u­ni­aq­tunut.

I was born in Novem­ber 1951, in the Western Arc­tic near the set­tle­ment of Paulatuk in the Inu­vialuit Set­tle­ment Re­gion, NT. My fam­ily was no­madic, as were most fam­i­lies at the time. Even though Chris­tian­ity had been in­tro­duced early on, most Inuit still car­ried on the tra­di­tions and cul­tural prac­tices of our an­ces­tors. We saw our­selves as part of the land and its daily rhythms, and we paid close at­ten­tion to our phys­i­cal, cul­tural and spir­i­tual needs with the un­der­stand­ing that harmony and bal­ance in all things were in­te­gral to our sur­vival. Days, weeks, months and years were spent in pur­suit of game, shel­ter and fire. Our en­ter­tain­ment and ed­u­ca­tion came from the oral tra­di­tion, told to us by our par­ents and el­ders. Their hands gave us an aware­ness of the frag­ile na­ture of our sur­vival. We un­der­stood the cy­cles of life from the mi­gra­tion of birds and an­i­mals on the land. This early phase of my life gave me the foun­da­tion that I would need for my phys­i­cal, cul­tural and spir­i­tual sur­vival. In 1959, at the age of seven, I was sent to a res­i­den­tial school in Inu­vik, Inu­vialuit Set­tle­ment Re­gion, NT, un­til 1970, along with other chil­dren from across the Arc­tic. The years were, at best, a dark smudge in my life. It was my dark night of the soul. I was phys­i­cally, men­tally and psy­cho­log­i­cally abused. I be­came an al­co­holic at the age of 16, un­til I gained so­bri­ety at the age of 36. It took many years, and the love and pa­tience of my wife and fam­ily, to heal the dam­age that had been done. I was just one of many. My artis­tic ca­reer be­gan in 1971 as a stu­dent of Ron­ald Se­nunge­tuk, an artist and res­i­dent teacher at the Na­tive Art Cen­ter at the Univer­sity of Alaska Fair­banks. For the next four years, my train­ing con­sisted of sculp­ture, graph­ics, jew­ellery and the study of Inuit art his­tory from the early books of art his­to­rian Ge­orge Swin­ton to those by ar­chae­ol­o­gist and an­thro­pol­o­gist Wil­liam Fitzhugh. Ron en­cour­aged me to mix tra­di­tional ma­te­ri­als and tech­niques with con­tem­po­rary de­sign to cre­ate new dy­namic works. Af­ter leav­ing Alaska in 1975, I trav­elled to Van­cou­ver, BC, and be­gan work for Mr. Lin Kye Lee, a suc­cess­ful busi­ness­man and prospec­tor, who gave me an early in­tro­duc­tion to stone quar­ry­ing and prospect­ing. For al­most three decades, I as­sisted Mr. Lee in min­ing and quar­ry­ing for steatite and main­tain­ing his claims, while de­vel­op­ing my artis­tic

Pin­guarusiq­tut am­malu iliniaru­tiqaq­tut uqa us ii naq mi gut,uq au tij au sim avu gut ataataku­tinit anaanaku­tinit am­malu inatuqaqnit. Ak­gan­git tuni­sisi­mavut qai jim aju ti ks a ni ks ur ak sara itu ku luu ni ga nut nu­navut in­u­u­na­suaq&uni.

Inu­u­niku­u­vunga Novem­ber 1951-mi, uk­i­uq­taq­tumi Inu­vialuit nuna­gani nunalik Paulatuuq (Paulatuk). Ilakka itaqni­ta­m­mar­i­u­lauq­tut, taap­ku­ti­tut tamaqmik ilagiit taip­sumani. Tuk­si­aqataqniq ukpiqniq ovat­inut qau­ji­ma­jauliqti­tau­galu­aq­mat, tamaqmi­paluk Inuit in­u­usi­tuqaqmiknik at­u­lauq­tut taap­ku­ti­tu­naq ilag­i­lauqsi­ma­jat­ti­tut im­makallak. Ovat­tin­nik taku­vak­tugut ilag­i­jau­ni­tinik nuna­mut am­malu qau­ta­maat taimanat­sianaq, am­malu ovat­tinik tim­itin­nik aulut­si­ti­aq­tugut, piusi­tuqat­tin­nik am­malu taqni­t­igu pi­ju­ma­jat­tinik tuk­i­si­u­malugit tamakkua naliqari­iti­aq­tut am­malu qan­uin­n­gi­ti­aq­tut suna­tu­in­naqnik ilainarimagi in­u­u­jutig­i­na­suaq­tapta. Ubluit, pina­suarusit, taqqiit am­malu uk­iut atuq­tut qiniq&utik pin­guaru­tik­samiknik, ik­luk­samiknik, iku­mak­samiknik. Pin­guarusiq­tut am­malu iliniaru­tiqaq­tut uqausi­inaqmigut, uqau­ti­jausi­mavugut ataataku­tinit anaanaku­tinit am­malu inatuqaqnit. Ak­gan­git tuni­sisi­mavut qai­ji­ma­ju­tik­sanik surak­saraituku­lu­u­ni­ganut nu­navut in­u­u­na­suaq&uni. Tuk­isi­jugut igi­ravalian­iga in­u­usiq tuquvali­a­jut in­u­u­vali­a­jut il­i­tivigi­javut tikipak­tut tingmiat am­malu niqju­tit nuna­tini. Tmanna pi­gial­isaaqniq in­u­usiqmik tuni­sisi­ma­juq tun­gaviksanik pitaqari­aqaq­tuq na­pa­niarama, pisi­tuqaqqaqvig­ilugu am­malu taqnikut in­u­u­ju­naqvig­illugu. Taikani 1959, uk­i­uqaq&unga 7-nik, ovanga, taap­kualu asikka nu­taqqat naki­tu­in­naq uk­i­uq­taq­tu­mit, aullaqti­tausi­mavugut iliniari­ati­tauluta Inu­u­vik-mut, Inu­vialuit (Inu­vik, NWT), kisiani 1970-mi. Taip­sumani, angi­laamik, taaqniqaq­tuq in­u­us­inut. Taip­sumani “taaq­tuq ub­nu­at­i­tut taqnira”. Timiga, isumaga am­malu isuma­jusita suku­taulauq­tuq. An­ga­jaaqata­lauq­tunga pi­giaq&unga 16-nik uk­i­uqqaq&unga, an­ga­jaaqataruni­ilauq­tunga uk­i­uqaluq&unga 36-nik. Aku­nialuk uk­i­u­nik, am­malu nakligi­gakku am­malu utaqi­tialauq­tuq nu­liara am­malu ilakka, mam­i­na­suk­til­nga amisu­aluknik suraisimagama. Ovanik sura­tinira taap­natu­u­nani. Sanaguaqatalilauq­tunga pi­giaq&unga 1971-mi ilini­aqti&uniga Ron­ald Se­nunge­tuk, sanaguaqti am­malu nunattini il­isas­i­ma­juq Na­tive Art Cen­ter-mi taikani Ilini­aqvikjuaq Alaska Fair­banks. Tisamanut uk­i­unut, iliniaq&unga sanaguaqniqmik, qarisau­jakkut ti­tiq­tu­gaq&unga, ujamil­iuq&unga am­malu iliniaq&unga Inuit sanaguarusig­inik it­taqni­tanik taap­ku­nan­gat uqal­i­maa­ganit it­taqni­talir­i­jinit Ge­orge Swin­ton am­malu Inu­usi­tuqalir­i­ji­u­juq Wil­liam Fitzhugh. Ron ajaulauqsi­ma­jaanga tiliuq&uniga ka­tiqu­lu­nigit it­taqni­tait am­malu maanal­i­sait sanasi­ma­jut nu­tau­ni­aq­mat sana­jjusiq. Qi­malauq­tara Alaska 1975-mi, Van­cou­ver, BC-mut, am­malu iqanai­jaluq&unga Mr. Lin Kye Lee, ki­in­au­jal­i­ut­si­aq­tu­mik sak­miniqu­tiqalauq­tuq am­malu ujaraq­ni­aqtiu­luni taap­suma qau­ji­ti­tar­i­u­laqutaanga ujaqanik sanaguarak­saq­taaqviksanik am­malu ujarak­ni­aqnikmik. Im­maqa 30-nut uk­i­unut, ika­ju­lauq­tara Mr. Lee ijarak­si­uq­tuq am­malu sanaguarak­saq­taaqvilir­i­juq am­malu nunataarisi­maniqminik pisi­mainalauq­tuq, atau­tikulu pi­vali­ati­tiluni sanaguaqniqmik. Inu­u­ju­ni­ilauqaarani 2004-mi, Mr. Lee tu­ni­lauq­taaga ovan­nut ujara­niaru­nauti­ganik nunaqutaanik taikani Fraser Val­ley. Taikani 2014, sanaqatigi­jakka ovan­galu nanisi­lauq­tugut uu­jau­naqmik aligi­i­jaqmik uqausiriqata­lauqsi­ma­jan­ganik, kissiani nanisi­ju­malau­rama ovan­nik nakminiq. Nani­lauq­tara, ikpig­i­lauq­tara Mr. Lee quvi­a­sug­a­jalauq­tuq.

The early ef­forts by Inuit at these new arts ini­tia­tives took time and pa­tience, but their com­mit­ment paid off with the ex­plo­sion of dy­namic works in stone and bone and on paper. —

en­deav­ors. Prior to his pass­ing in 2004, Mr. Lee gifted me the min­ing claims in the Fraser Val­ley. In 2014, my crew and I found the source of jade that he had spo­ken about, but felt I should find on my own. I found it. I feel that Mr. Lee would be pleased. Over the past forty years, I have sought to build on the train­ing that I re­ceived from my men­tor and friend Ron, and I have had the ben­e­fit of meet­ing and work­ing with artists and crafts­peo­ple across Canada and in­ter­na­tion­ally. These ex­changes have led me to view the world from a mul­ti­fac­eted per­spec­tive. Sim­i­larly, the tu­mul­tuous changes and un­pre­dictable cli­mate shifts that are tak­ing place across the Arc­tic con­tinue to af­fect my world­view and pro­fes­sional en­deav­ors, par­tic­u­larly my artis­tic re­search into the con­nec­tion be­tween my an­ces­tors and the Norse Vik­ings of a thou­sand years ago. Sig­nif­i­cant en­vi­ron­men­tal change was the prin­ci­ple cause that led these two di­verse Arc­tic peo­ples to Green­land around this time. As an artist I have at­tempted to bring this story to life, to mold skin and bones into a new nar­ra­tive and this search into a long-van­ished Arc­tic world, brings into fo­cus the world we now live in. I un­der­stand what took place in the dis­tant past as com­ing full cir­cle and call these untold sto­ries the “in­evitable con­se­quences of con­tact”. I have al­ways been in awe of the thou­sand years of artis­tic tal­ent and in­spi­ra­tion that has come hand in hand with the de­vel­op­ment of Inuit cul­ture from the Ber­ing Sea and be­yond. As has been doc­u­mented by Swin­ton and oth­ers, in Canada’s Arc­tic an artis­tic nais­sance took place through­out the 1950s and 1960s. It is this phase that was one of my early in­flu­ences as an artist. I wanted to be able to cre­ate works of this power and dy­namism. To­day, I can look back and I see the legacy of this artis­tic blos­som­ing and the many prob­lems and chal­lenges that artists are fac­ing to­day as a re­sult. As the Arc­tic un­der­went a pe­riod of sig­nif­i­cant un­cer­tainty, start­ing in the early 1950s, the fed­eral gov­ern­ment be­gan its arts and crafts ini­tia­tives to pro­vide means of em­ploy­ment to Inuit com­mu­ni­ties. In­di­vid­u­als like James Hous­ton, Terry Ryan and Gabriel Gély trav­elled to far-flung camps to see if the an­cient hunt­ing skills of Inuit could be har­nessed to lo­cal ma­te­ri­als, in­clud­ing bone, steatite and ivory. To their de­light, Inuit were nat­u­rals at ma­nip­u­lat­ing lo­cal ma­te­ri­als be­cause of their skills at cre­at­ing beau­ti­ful ev­ery­day ob­jects and craft­ing elab­o­rate hunt­ing tools and im­ple­ments. The early ef­forts by Inuit at these new arts ini­tia­tives took time and pa­tience, but their com­mit­ment paid off with the ex­plo­sion of dy­namic works in stone and bone and on paper that made house­hold names of many early artists from nu­mer­ous Arc­tic com­mu­ni­ties. The par­tic­i­pants of these first for­ays into the new eco­nomic ini­tia­tive re­quired min­i­mal for­mal in­struc­tion and the themes they were asked to por­tray, in­clud­ing wildlife, hunt­ing and do­mes­tic scenes and the spirit world, were sub­jects of which they had an in­ti­mate knowl­edge. The men and women of this gen­er­a­tion had a close un­der­stand­ing of the land; most were no­madic, fol­low­ing the an­cient paths of their an­ces­tors. They lived and breathed in the light of myths, sto­ries and leg­end and held true to the knowl­edge handed down from gen­er­a­tions. They cre­ated mag­nif­i­cent works of art, and their dis­tinct artis­tic ex­pres­sion be­came an eas­ily iden­ti­fi­able im­age of Canada on the world stage. Artists of the sec­ond gen­er­a­tion, ac­tive be­tween the 1960s and 1980s, fol­lowed in the foot­steps of their par­ents. Many moved from far-flung camps to start new lives in the small towns and ham­lets

Taiman­ganit 40 uk­iut, qiniq­tunga sana­jum­malunga tama­tu­miga ilinialauq­tan­git il­i­sai­jig­i­lauq­taqnit am­malu piqa­nari­lauq­tan­nit Ron, am­malu ika­juu­ti­lauq­tuq kati­lauqsi­ma­jakka am­malu sanaqatig­ilugit sanaguaqtit am­malu sa­na­ti­akam­mar­i­aluit naki­tu­in­naq Kanatamit am­malu silaqjuaqmit. Ukua nunagin­gi­tat­inut pu­laaqatigi­iqataqniq taku­ti­tisi­ma­juq ovan­nik nunaqjuavut ajjigi­in­gi­tu­u­tau­ni­ganik. Taiman­nat­tauq, nalu­naq­pak&utik asitjiq­tut am­malu nir­i­u­nan­gi­tut silaup uqu­u­ni­gata sa­gusi­maliqniga saasi­maliq­tavut at­uliq­tavut nani­tu­in­naq uk­i­uq­taq­tumi ka­jusiyuq ak­tu­il­luni ovanga taup­turi­jan­nik am­malu qau­ji­ma­juqjua­gu­niq­mut pilirini­aq­tap­nut, pilu­aq­tu­mik qau­ji­na­suk­tap­nut sanaguaqn­qmik qanuq katin­nganiga avataanit ovanga ilag­i­lauq­tap­nut am­malu Qalu­naat Vick­ings-nut tau­sanut uk­i­unut. Angi­ju­mik ava­tivut asitjiq­tuq taimanau­ni­ganut taap­kuat maqqruuk ajigi­in­gi­tut uk­i­uq­taq­tumi inuit Akukit­tuq maanauliq­tuq. Sanaguaqtiul­luga unikadq­tausi­ma­ju­nik kisu­ruqtiti­naksuk­pak­tunga saqi­titi­na­suk&uga, ovinik­taaqtip&ugu am­malu sauniqaliqtip&ugu nu­taap­mik tuk­iqaliq&uni am­malu una qiniqniq aku­ni­u­ju­mika­si­uqayuq Ak­i­uq­taqtup nunaqjuan­ganit, taap­nauliq&uni tak­vani nunaqjuami nunag­iliq­tap­tini. Tuk­isi­junga qanuq pi­valauq­man­gaata im­makkaniq ovat­tigut utiq­tuq am­malu taisu­uri­javut uqau­si­u­lauqsi­manginig­inik “taimanau­jari­aqalau­ramik up­ak­tausi­maliqti­pluta.” Ka­manaq­tuq tau­sanut uk­i­unut sanakam­mar­i­aluit am­malu aju­runi­irutigisi­ma­jan­git taap­ku­nan­gat atau­tikut pi­vali­ati­taulu­tik Inuit piusi­tuqan­git tap­kan­gat Ualin­iup Tar­i­unga[Ber­ing Sea] am­malu asianit. Ti­ti­raqsi­ma­jan­git unikaar­ilugit Swin­ton am­malu asig­init, Kanataup uk­i­uq­taq­tunga pi­ju­mayau­niq­paulauqsi­ma­juq sanaguqataliq&utik taiman­ganit 1950-ni am­malu 1960-ni. Una suraaniga taiman­naili­galilauqni­gat taip­sumanilu sanaguaqataru­malilauqsi­ma­junga. Sanaqataru­malauq­tunga tama­tum­minga sangiyu­u­ju­mik am­malu pi­ju­naq­taar­i­lauq­tara. Ub­lumi, iqau­malugu taip­suma­ni­u­lauq­tuq am­malu man­u­mit tik­isi­maliq­tuq taiman­ganit sanaguarunaq­tut pi­vaaliqsi­maliq­tut piruqsi­maliq­tut am­malu amisut ilu­angi­ju­tut am­malu ak­su­ruq­nak­tukku­uq­tut taap­kua sanaguaqtit atuq­tagit ub­lumi taimanau­ni­ganut. Taimalu uk­i­uq­taq­tuq atuqsi­laukak­tilugu angi­ju­nik nalu­jamiknik qau­ji­manan­gi­tu­nik, pi­giaq&utik 1950 pi­gialiqtilugu, Kava­matuqaqkut pi­giaqti­ti­lauq­tut sanaguaq­tuliriniqmik am­malu miq­su­g­aliriniqmik iqanai­jaqti­ti­lu­tik Inuit nunag­inut. Inu­tu­inait tamakkua James Hous­ton, Terry Ryan am­malu Gabriel Gély qan­gatavakput nunali­ralaanut taku­ju­ma­lu­tik an­gu­na­su­g­usi­tuqait Inuknit atuq­taulu­tik nunaliknit sana­jaulu­tik, tamakualu sauniit, sanaguarak­sait, am­malu kigutiit tu­gaat. Pi­ju­ma­janginik, Inuit sana­ju­natsi­akautig­i­lu­tik am­malu sanalugit nunamikni­gaaq­tut aaqik­si­lu­tik pi­u­ju­mar­i­aluknik am­malu sanaguaqsi­ma­ti­aq­tum­mar­i­aluknik taap­ku­a­ti­ag­u­lugit sa­nari­ti­tit am­malu ilan­git. Pi­na­suqatal­isaaq&utik Inuknit taap­ku­niga nu­taanik sanaguaqataliq&utik aku­ni­u­vak&utik am­malu utaqi­tiari­aqaq&utik, kisiani angiqsi­man­i­tik atuqniqalilauq­tuq amisu­alu­uliq&utik sana­jausi­ma­jut sanaguarak­sat, sauniit am­malu paip­paat taap­kualu an­gi­ragini atigit atuq­tau­jut maana sanaguaqniqmik pi­giaqti­ti­lausi­ma­jut im­makan­niq naki­tu­in­naq Uk­i­uq­taq­tuq nunaginit. Ukua ilan­git taap­ku­nani sivuli­u­lauq­tut ki­in­au­jal­i­u­ru­taulu­tik, mik­i­ju­mik ajurisuu­ti­jau­tu­inaq&utik am­malu tukig­inik taap­kua saqi­tiqu­jau­jut, ilag­i­jaulu­tik niqju­tiit, asi­vaqsi­maniqmik am­malu nunamikni takuqataq­tamiknik am­malu taqniq­mut pisi­ma­jut, ukua pilir­i­jatik qanu­tu­in­naq qau­jimagami­jjuk. Taap­kua angutit am­malu

spring­ing up across Canada’s Arc­tic. This gen­er­a­tion was one step re­moved from the land; how­ever, they were still tied spir­i­tu­ally and cul­tur­ally to the land. They un­der­stood the call­ing of the spir­its of their an­ces­tors and the spirit realm. This gen­er­a­tion had ex­po­sure to both worlds, with se­cure in­comes, the abil­ity to hunt and fish as they chose and ac­cess to the goods and ameni­ties pro­vided by the com­mu­ni­ties they lived in. This gen­er­a­tion also re­ceived the ben­e­fits of new ma­te­ri­als, art sup­plies, gov­ern­ment-spon­sored ship­ping, mar­ket­ing and sales ven­tures that ex­panded the whole in­dus­try into in­ter­na­tional mar­kets. Build­ing on the works of their par­ents, aunts, un­cles and grand­par­ents, they in­tro­duced a dy­namic range of art­works. The third gen­er­a­tion of Inuit artists, whose main artis­tic for­ma­tion and out­put was from the 1990s to 2010s, is made up of those in­di­vid­u­als who by and large live in es­tab­lished Arc­tic com­mu­ni­ties. Some have cho­sen to live in the South, closer to ma­te­ri­als, mar­kets and the broader world. Many are find­ing their artis­tic ex­pres­sion in a va­ri­ety of me­dia and through ex­po­sure to the artis­tic forms and styles of their con­tem­po­raries. In the North, they are week­end hun­ters and fish­er­man. Whole fam­i­lies gather to re­new old friend­ships, shar­ing in the rich har­vest of the land, the retelling of sto­ries and pass­ing on an­cient knowl­edge to fu­ture gen­er­a­tions. Three times re­moved from the world of their pre­de­ces­sors, with no vis­i­ble di­rect links to their an­ces­tral ways, this gen­er­a­tion of artists has the dif­fi­cult task of cre­at­ing works of art com­pa­ra­ble to the dy­namism, power and cal­iber of that of their par­ents and grand­par­ents. Many feel they must cre­ate im­ages of aq­nait maanauliq­tuq tuk­i­si­u­mat­si­aq­tut nunamik; tamaqmi­paluk in­u­lar­i­u­niku­ung­matta, ma­lik­tut im­makalaknit aqu­sianginik ilag­i­lauq­tan­gita. Inu­usir­i­jan­git am­malu aniqsaaq­tuq­tan­git unikaaq­tuat, unit, am­malu in­u­u­sivinigit am­malu tigu­mi­aq­taut­si­aq­tut qau­ji­ma­jau­jut qau­ji­ma­jauliqti­tau­vak­tut in­u­u­valianaiq­tunut. Aaqik­siqataq­tut pi­u­ju­mar­i­aluknik sanan­guaq&utik, am­malu aji­un­gi­tu­nik sana­jusiqaq­tut nalu­naki­tiaq&utik nakingaaqniku­un­ma­gaata Kanatami nunaqjua­mut. Sanaguaqtiu­lunga piqatig­iliq­taani in­u­usiqaliq­tuni, nuqan­ga­ju­nalauq­na­galu 1960-nit am­malu 1980-nit, ma­lik&utit ataataku­miknik anaanaku­miknik. Amisut nu­usi­ma­lu­tik nunali­ralaanit in­u­usiq­taaq&utik nunaqatigi­ini am­malu Ham­let-ni utiq­taq&utik na­mu­tu­in­naq Kanataup uk­i­uq­taq­tun­ganut. Ukua maana in­u­uliq­tut qa­muguti­aqjuk­si­ma­jut nu­navut; taimanau­galu­aqtilugu, katin­gat­si­aq­tut taqn­imigut am­malu piusi­tuqaqmigut nuna­mut. Tuk­isi­jut qaiqu­jari­aqaq­pakka­tigut taqnigit ilag­i­lauq­tapta am­malu taqni­t­igut. Ukua maana in­u­uliq­tut taku­ti­tau­vut atuqti­tau­vut maq­gruuknik in­u­usir­i­jau­ju­nik nunaqjuami, ki­in­au­jal­i­ut­siaq&utik, an­gu­na­su­g­u­naq&utik asi­varunaq&utik am­malu iqalu­ga­su­g­u­naq&utik atu­ru­ma­jamigut am­malu pi­ju­natsiaq&utik piqu­tinik am­malu kisug­inik nunaliit tunisi­ma­janginik nunag­i­jamikni. Ukua maana in­u­uliq­tut piti­tau­vak­mi­jut ika­ju­u­si­ak­sanik nu­taanik, sanaguaru­tik­sanik, kava­makut­nit ak­iliq­tau­vak­tut qan­gatautigit, ni­u­rusiriniq am­malu ni­u­viq­tau­ti­tiqataqniq angili­ti­ti­juq tama­tu­miga ki­in­au­jal­i­u­ru­tau­ju­mik tama­tum­munga nunaqjuami silaqjuami ni­u­viq­tau­valiq&utik. Aaqik­paliag­i­naq&ugu ataatakumi anaanakumi sanasi­ma­janigit am­malu at­takunginit, akkakunginit am­malu at­tatat­si­akunginit anaanat­si­akunginit it­tukunginit, pi­giaqti­tisi­ma­jut qa­nu­ritu­tu­inaqnik sanasi­ma­jamiknik. Taap­kua pin­ga­jugi­jau­jut in­u­uliq­tut Inuit sanaguaqtit, ukualu sa­na­ti­aqniqsauqatalu­aq­tut am­malu aaqi­ti­aqsi­ma­lu­tik taikan­ganit 1990 tiki&ugu 2010, taap­kua Inuit nunaqaq­tut uk­i­uq­taq­tuq nunagini. Ilan­git nunaqaru­masi­ma­jut Qalu­naaq nuna­gani, qan­it­niqsauniaramik sanagua­gak­samiknik, ni­u­vaq­pak­tu­niklu am­malu nunaqjuan­gat anginiqsaun­mat. Nanisi­ma­javut amisuit sana­ju­naqsiqataq­tut kisu­tu­inaqnik am­malu tamauna saqi­juaarunaq­tut sa­na­ti­aqsi­ma­jut am­malu aaqik­si­ma­jusiriqataq­tan­git. Uk­i­uq­taq­tumi pina­suaru­siup nun­guani asi­vaqsi­mavak­tut am­malu iqalu­ga­sug­iaq­pak­tut. Ilagi­il­i­mat katin­gavak­tut nu­taan­guri­aqti&ugu piqa­nariniqtik, atuq&ugu an­gu­na­sukviqa­ti­aq­tuq nunan­gat, unikaarikan­niq&ugit am­malu tu­nilugit it­taqni­sait qau­ji­ma­jau­ju­tuqait siviniksa­tini in­u­u­ni­aq­tunut. Pin­ga­suiq&utik nuna­juaqmiknit pi­iq­tausi­ma­jut ma­lik­tig­ini­aq­tamiknit in­ag­iqtik­samiknit, taut­tuqaqti­tau­gatik qanuq katin­ganiqmiknut sivulir­i­lauq­tamiknut, maana in­u­uliq­tut sanaguaqtiit pi­jaqnig­i­tu­mik ti­jak­saqaq­tut sana­lu­tik sanaguaqsi­ma­ju­nik qanuutig­ini­ganik aji­un­gi­tu­u­niq,sana­jun­naq­tut am­malu ajun­gi­ti­aq­tut taap­ku­ti­tut ataataku­mi­ti­tut anaanaku­mi­ti­tut am­malu ataatat­si­aku­mi­ti­tut anaanat­si­aku­mi­ti­tut. Amisut ikpi­gusuk­tut sana­jari­aqaq­ma­gaat tingmi­aguanik, niqjutin­guanik am­malu taqniguanik qau­ji­man­gi­tiar­alu­aru­tit aaqi­ga­suk­tamiknik. Ukua sanaguanik ni­u­viq­pak­tut

Pi­na­suqatal­isaaq&utik Inuknit taap­ku­niga nu­taanik sanaguaqataliq&utik aku­ni­u­vak&utik am­malu utaqi­tiari­aqaq&utik, kisiani angiqsi­man­i­tik atuqniqalilauq­tuq amisu­alu­uliq&utik sana­jausi­ma­jut sanaguarak­sat, sauniit am­malu paip­paat.

The ac­cel­er­ated pace of change in the North brings with it great chal­lenges. Those most at risk are the chil­dren who must bear the brunt of the shift­ing cli­mate; this is their fu­ture. —

birds, an­i­mals and spir­its with­out the in­ti­mate first­hand ex­pe­ri­ence of their sub­ject mat­ter. The art deal­ers and mar­ket make un­rea­son­able de­mands on these artists to cre­ate great works with­out the knowl­edge of the past, which in turn hin­ders them from break­ing away from these long-es­tab­lished prac­tices and en­trenched mar­ket­ing mod­els. We come now to the fourth gen­er­a­tion of Inuit artists work­ing to­day, a group that is some 50 years or more re­moved from their grand­par­ents, who first saw the flow­er­ing of a new dy­namic art form. This present gen­er­a­tion must find artis­tic ex­pres­sion amidst the con­stant noise and elec­tronic drab­ble of their daily lives. With the added weight of sub­stance, sex­ual and phys­i­cal abuse, sui­cide and cul­tural dis­con­nect, an artist liv­ing in the North to­day must be thick­skinned, in­no­va­tive and re­silient to make a go of it. Most are faced with un­cer­tain fu­tures and many choose to take on sta­ble jobs, rather than in­vest in a cre­ative pur­suit with no guar­an­tee. Most trou­bling, how­ever, is the lack of train­ing or skills to be­come ex­em­plary. Many of these young artists live in cul­tural and spir­i­tual limbo, with­out an in­ti­mate un­der­stand­ing of the land and its crea­tures or the mythol­ogy of the shamanic world. The past is dis­tant and re­moved, the present is de­mand­ing and of­fers lit­tle in pro­vid­ing an­swers and vi­able fu­ture path­ways for an artist to pur­sue pro­duc­tive and in­spir­ing lives aren’t al­ways di­rect. The co-ops and other in­sti­tu­tions pro­vide some an­swers and lead­er­ship in this area, but their ef­forts some­times fall short of what is needed to en­sure the sur­vival of arts in the North. Over and above the daily con­cerns of to­day’s artist is the is­sue of a chang­ing Arc­tic cli­mate and the dra­matic ef­fects it is hav­ing on lo­cal com­mu­ni­ties. The ac­cel­er­ated pace of change in the North brings with it great chal­lenges. Those most at risk are the chil­dren who must bear the brunt of the shift­ing cli­mate; this is their fu­ture. As an artist and an Inu­vialuit en­tre­pre­neur, I am mak­ing plans for the es­tab­lish­ment of an Arc­tic Chil­dren’s Fund that will at­tempt to tackle the is­sues fac­ing our chil­dren to­day. We must find so­lu­tions to the far-reach­ing ef­fects of al­co­holism, drug abuse, sui­cide and food in­se­cu­rity by fo­cus­ing on ed­u­ca­tion and the preser­va­tion of cul­ture through lan­guage and the arts. I be­lieve we must take ac­tion now as we face a mul­ti­tude of prob­lems with lim­ited re­sources. Artists, in par­tic­u­lar, must see and re­spond to this new Arc­tic re­al­ity, per­haps by choos­ing to be­come so­cial and cul­tural ac­tivists us­ing their chang­ing en­vi­ron­ment as themes in their work. For those who fol­low this path, I can of­fer a vi­able so­lu­tion to en­sure the sur­vival of Inuit cul­tural, spir­i­tual and ma­te­rial tra­di­tions through artis­tic ex­pres­sion. This so­lu­tion is one that was of­fered to me as a young man un­der Ron’s tute­lage and re­quires that art cen­tres be set up in Nu­navut and else­where in the North to pro­vide artists with op­por­tu­ni­ties for mul­ti­dis­ci­plinary pro­grams with a fo­cus on for­mal train­ing in the con­tem­po­rary arts. The dis­ci­plines would in­clude sculp­ture, paint­ing, draw­ing, graph­ics, fine crafts and an em­pha­sis on tra­di­tional and con­tem­po­rary de­sign. Such spa­ces could part­ner with ex­ist­ing in­sti­tu­tions in the North to al­low artists the choice of where to study as cur­rently most are forced to travel south for this level of com­pre­hen­sive train­ing. Cru­cial to the suc­cess of this ap­proach is the mar­ry­ing of tech­ni­cal train­ing with a much deeper aes­thetic rooted in our cul­tural and spir­i­tual past. I be­lieve im­mers­ing the prospec­tive artist in clas­si­cal train­ing will en­able the in­di­vid­ual to de­velop skills and new ways of view­ing their cul­tural, ma­te­rial and spir­i­tual tra­di­tions. Pro­vid­ing young artists with a range of tools will pre­pare them to greet ex­pand­ing mar­kets as the North­west Pas­sage wel­comes in­creas­ing num­bers of vis­i­tors. With this ground­ing, artists will find new forms of ex­pres­sions in an ever-chang­ing Arc­tic world. In many ways it feels like a new be­gin­ning, so let’s see what we can do.

Abra­ham Anghik Ruben — ABOVE & LEFT Freya 2016 Brazil­ian steatite 98 × 61 × 23 cm — QULAANI AM­MALU SAUMIANI Freya 2016 Ukkusik­saq aqit­tuq 98 × 61 × 23 cm

Abra­ham Anghik Ruben — Pas­sage of Spir­its 2011 Whale­bone, Brazil­ian steatite and BC cedar 56.5 × 96 × 32 cm — Inu­u­ju­ni­iqsi­ma­jut Taqnigit 2011 Aqviup saunia, Ukusik­saq aqit­tuq, am­malu Bri­tish Columbia na­paaq­tuq 56.5 × 96 × 32 cm

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