Unceded: Land and design sovereignty
Canada’s pavilion at the 2018 Venice Architecture Biennale brought together multiple contemporary Indigenous architects, who collaborated to emphasize the collective values of Indigenous peoples, demonstrate the artificial nature of colonial borders and remind visitors of the importance of Indigenous voices in shaping a future that respects and celebrates the land.
what do you say to a non indigenous journalist that is apologetic for not including any building you have designed in her latest article because it does not have “that look” that the non indigenous magazine editors and publishers are looking for … leaving you thinking that you have to justify your own existence to her.1
—luugigyoo patrick stewart (Nisga’a architect)
Despite significant increases in demographic diversity made visible in the global design community in recent years, the work of First Nations, Métis and Inuit architects in Canada has been historically invisible outside of the very rarest exceptions, such as the iconic works of Blackfoot architect and Anishinaabe Elder Douglas Cardinal. This should not be surprising, given that until 1961, a professional education such as architecture required one to renounce their Indigenous rights as part of the “compulsory enfranchisement” section of the Canadian Indian Act. Essentially, in order to be an architect, you needed to be trained to design with settler-colonial methods to meet settler-colonial standards.
Such a disturbance between Indigenous peoples and the process of design and construction has had an undeniable impact on the relationship between contemporary design thinking and Indigenous peoples. For example, in 2014, a Metropolis magazine article by Samuel Medina titled “The cold rush: Designers begin looking to the Arctic” explored the role of architects in the “frontier” and “untapped” territories of the far north, describing them as “pioneering” and relating their work to that of “ethnographers,” “anthropologists” and “cultural workers.”2 The article recognized the “sensitivities” associated with Indigenous peoples in remote northern regions, while further emphasizing the need for sustained and committed architectural engagement that embraces community input and traditional knowledge in order to avoid more superficial forms. It concluded with the acute observation by Toronto-based architect Mason White that “there are very few Indigenous architects; I can’t even count them there are so few.”
White’s comment was, by all means, accurate. When that article was published, out of 10,000 architects in Canada, approximately 15 were Indigenous, which is less than one fifth of a percent.3 The article further posited, however, that Indigenous architects were not excelling to the same level as their artistic contemporaries, presumably due to their professional dearth. Yet it was also the case that, while grossly under-represented, Indigenous architects – and many of them – had indeed been practising on Turtle Island
(the name many Indigenous peoples use to refer to North America) for a very long time. Medina’s article called for “the rise of the Inuit architect,” yet didn’t acknowledge that, for instance, Harriet Burdett-Moulton, of mixed-Inuit heritage, had been practising architecture in the north for decades. Similarly, the 2015 Arctic States Symposium at the University of Virginia sought to bring together “an international consortium of leading designers and colleagues from allied disciplines to posit the role of design in the rapidly
transforming [Arctic] region,” yet neither Burdett-Moulton nor any other Indigenous person was at the table, begging the question of the perceived value of Indigenous perspectives within the architectural community.
Such instances provided the context, and partial motivation, for our proposal for the Canadian exhibition at the 2018 Venice Architecture Biennale. A quick conference call between the Indigenous architects of the Royal Architectural Institute of Canada Indigenous Task Force, chaired by nisga’a architect luugigyoo patrick stewart, brought enthusiasm about the Indigenous voice being heard on architecture’s grandest international stage for the first time. It was agreed that the proposal would represent an intergenerational, all-Indigenous team, under the leadership of our Elder, Douglas Cardinal.4 This would, we hoped, achieve two things: first, clarify the inadequacy of the ubiquitous term “Indigenous” by instead celebrating multiple contemporary Indigenous architects, their communities, their cultures, their landscapes and their unique design processes; and, second, emphasize the importance of collective values inherent to Indigenous peoples. Further, in early conversations with internationally renowned Plains Cree professor and co-curator Gerald McMaster and various team members, Jake Chakasim proposed the term “unceded,” a word that all agreed held currency in relation to Indigenous land claims and political negotiations, but also suggested that neither the right to design, as a culturally grounded act of agency informed through lived experience, nor the authoritative metrics for what might constitute “good design” in such a context, had ever been ceded. This further inspired us to invite four colleagues from the USA as a symbolic rebuttal of the imposition of colonial borders and their implied divisions.
Once our proposal was selected, the curatorial challenges included deciding what content to include and, more importantly, how to present it within a space that we named “Turtle Island Pavilion.” An extensive series of online and in-person sharing circles across the country allowed for multiple perspectives from the entire team to be heard. This led to four distinct, but related, themes, or “territories”: Territories of Resilience, Territories of Sovereignty, Territories of Colonization and Territories of Indigeneity. Lengthy discussions among the team challenged what these terms meant from individual and cultural perspectives, as well as for an international architectural audience. It soon became evident that what was central to an Indigenous architectural narrative – reflective of our diverse cultures – would best be told through storytelling, and that we somehow needed to include the music, the land, the communities and our families and Elders, all of which have informed who we are and guided our diverse career paths. More predictable fixations on the objectification of architecture through scale models, orthographic drawings and tectonic artifacts, for instance, would be replaced by spatial storytelling, with each element mutually dependent on others in a comprehensive web, suggestive of the complexity inherent in Indigenous design thinking. This approach would help convey that Indigenous design cannot be stylized nor strategized for hasty adoption or application, but rather is based on guiding principles provided through lived experience, informed by traditional teachings and community input, and ultimately aspires to reinforce spiritual interconnectivity between all things. The exhibit thus aimed to offer a glimpse into a different way of thinking about design that might inspire visitors to reflect on what guides their actions and how we can collectively strive toward being better stewards of our Mother Earth moving forward. As Cardinal has repeatedly argued, “The teachings of the Elders are not the teachings of the past. They are the teachings of the future.”5
Under extremely tight timelines to deliver the project in Italy, Cardinal led the design vision for the exhibit itself, with his signature curving surfaces carefully orchestrated to receive full-scale projections of the team members and
their stories, as well as the various other elements to support the four territories.
The team quickly expanded to include multimedia designers The Mustard Shop and various collaborators in Canada and Italy, including Indigenous music consultants Iskwé and Tim Hill of A Tribe Called Red. The opening ceremonies brought Elders from Turtle Island to Venice along with the entire team and included a signature performance by Indigenous dance group Red Sky. We also initiated a program, working with universities across the country, to fund Indigenous students of architecture to spend one to two months in Venice as Cultural Hosts at the exhibit, further affirming our intergenerational emphasis.
The exhibit sparked significant interest in Venice, with many European visitors commenting on their surprise that Indigenous cultures were still vibrant and thriving in North America. Baku magazine called it one of the “Top ten pavilions at the Venice Architecture Biennale”6 and, in May 2019, it became the first exhibition from the Venice Biennale ever to be presented in Canada when it opened at the Canadian Museum of History. Museum President and CEO Mark O’Neill described the exhibit as “the most important expression of Canadian Indigeneity ever presented in an exhibition outside this country.”7 Unceded: Voices of the Land also welcomed the patronage of the Honourable Elizabeth Dowdeswell, Lieutenant Governor of Ontario.
For the average Biennale visitor, the exhibit was clearly atypical. The Indigenous design principles provided a framework to consider similarities among the individual stories within, and the personal reflections of the architects provided the majority of the content. However, the many hours of video, overlapping acoustics, diversity of messages, colonial overlays and large-scale landscape videos also intended to dissuade visitors from any futile attempt to simplify or categorize their experience.
Unceded’s greatest achievement was ultimately its celebration of the Indigenous voices of architecture and their important role in the shaping of our future. It reminded the broader design community that there are indeed Indigenous architects, working within their communities and in multiple other contexts – notably, Wanda Dalla Costa, Harriet BurdettMoulton, Tammy Eagle Bull, Tamarah
Begay, Ouri Scott, Eladia Smoke, Alfred Waugh, Jake Chakasim, Chris Cornelius, Daniel Glenn, David Thomas, Ray Gosselin, Ryan Gorrie, Matthew Hickey, Brian Porter, Patrick Stewart, Douglas Cardinal, and many others. Most importantly, these are the role models who will continue to inspire the dozens and hundreds of Indigenous architects who will emerge in the decades and centuries to come, who will design a future for their greatgrandchildren that reflects, respects and celebrates the awesome and resilient beauty of the ancestors, the teachings and the land.
1. luugigyoo patrick stewart, “Architecture as Indigenous voice soul and spirit,” in Rebecca Kiddle, luugigyoo patrick stewart and Kevin O’Brien, Our voices: Indigeneity and architecture (Novato: Oro Editions, 2018), 30–43.
2. Samuel Medina, “The cold rush: Designers begin looking to the Arctic,” Metropolis, 22 December 2014, metropolismag.com/architecture/cold-rush-designerslook-arctic (accessed 3 January 2020).
3. According to a report prepared by the Architects’ Association of New Brunswick, there were 9,556 architects registered in Canada in 2014. Report provided to the author by the Royal Architectural Institute of Canada.
4. Unceded: Voices of the Land showcased 18 Indigenous architects from Turtle Island, representing Canada and the USA at the 2018 Venice Architecture Biennale. The team was as follows: Douglas Cardinal (presenter); David Fortin and Gerald McMaster (co-curators); Harriet Burdett-Moulton, Chris Cornelius, Jake Chakasim, Wanda Dalla Costa, Tammy Eagle Bull, Daniel Glenn, Ryan Gorrie, Ray Gosselin, Matthew Hickey, Brian Porter, Ouri Scott, Eladia Smoke, luugigyoo patrick stewart, David Thomas, Alfred Waugh (exhibiting Indigenous architects and designers).
5. Unceded exhibition publication, Unceded, unceded.ca/ downloads/Exhibition%20Publication%20-%20EN.pdf (accessed 7 January 2020).
6. “High rise: Top ten pavilions at the Venice Architecture Biennale”, Baku, 3 July 2018, baku-magazine.com/art/ top-ten-venice-architecture-biennale-2018 (accessed 6 January 2020).
7. Mark O’Neill, “Canadian Museum of History Annual Report 2018–2019”, Canadian Museum of History website, historymuseum.ca/a1/annual-report-2018-2019/ message-from-the-president-and-ceo/#tabs (accessed 6 January 2020).
Footnotes