Revisiting Annie Pootoogook: The Spirit, the Self and Other Stories
ᑎᑎᕋᐅᓯᕆᑲᓐᓂᖅᑕᕗᑦ ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ
This award-winning artist took the Inuit art world by storm with her stirring, evocative graphic works. As a result, her artistic legacy has been defined by her meteoric and unprecedented rise to global fame. In this piece, the lesserknown currents of Pootoogook’s oeuvre are explored, providing a new lens through which to consider the profound impact of her work.
The Spirit, the Self and Other Stories
Shopping at the co-op, a Coleman stove flanked by Robin Hood flour and salt, tender family portraits and interior scenes of feasting or lounging in front of the television, or perhaps of something darker—these are some of the now iconic images that have come to define the remarkable oeuvre of celebrated graphic artist Annie Pootoogook (1969–2016). What have been arguably less considered, however, are her psychological self-portraits, defined by their complex spiritual iconography and returned to again and again by the artist over her brief but prolific career.
ᑕᕐᓂᖅ, ᐃᒻᒥᓂᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᓯᖏᑦ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᑦ
ᓂᐅᕕᕆᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᑯᐊᐸᒃᑯᓂ, ᐅᓇ ᓱᐴᔫᖅ ᓴᓂᐊᓂᓗ ᐸᓚᐅᒑᒃᓴᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᕆᐅᖅ, ᓯᓚᒥ ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᖏᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ
ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓂ ᓂᕆᔪᑦ ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑕᓚᕖᓴᖅᑐᑦ, ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑖᖅᓂᖅᓴᓂᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᒋᕗᖅ - ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐃᓚᖏ ᒫᓐᓇ ᐃᓕᓴᕐᓇᕈᑎᖏᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᖏ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᑲᒪᓇᖅᑐᑎᒍᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᐅᓐᖏᑐᑎᒍᑦ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᔭᐅᑦᑎᐊᖅᑐᖅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎ ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ (1969–2016). ᐅᓇ ᐊᐃᕙᔪᓐᓇᖅᑐᒍᑦ ᒥᑭᓂᖅᓴᖅ ᐃᓱᒪᒋᓪᓗᒍ, ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᒐᓗᐊᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ ᐃᓱᒪᒋᔭᒥᓂᑦ ᐃᒻᒥᓂᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᓇᓗᓇᐃᑦᑎᐊᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᐱᔭᕐᓂᓐᖏᑦᑑᑎ ᑕᕐᓂᒥ ᑐᑭᓕᐊᖏᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᑎᖅᕕᒌᓐᓇᐹ ᓴᓇᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᑉ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᖅᑖᓗᒋᕙᓚᐅᖅ ᑕᖕᒋᑦ ᐱᓇᔪᒃᕕᕐᒐ ᓇᐃᑦᓘᒐᓗᐊᖅᑎᑦᓗᒍ.
Years ago, when I was working at an art gallery, I was surprised when a potential donation was rejected by the curatorial staff. They felt that the work wasn’t a strong example of that artist’s particular practice, which is a common enough line of thinking. But I wonder how these impressions are shaped—what constitutes an oeuvre’s strength? The enormous contribution that Annie Pootoogook made to contemporary drawing is a topic of universal agreement. Few artists have garnered the amount of attention in the Canadian media that Pootoogook secured; no other contemporary artist’s personal life has received the scrutiny that hers did. The fact that she captured life in the North during a time of transition, unflinchingly depicting even the hardest aspects of these changes, is the best-known interpretation of her work. But perhaps rearranging our mental furniture can allow for a different understanding of the life that Pootoogook presented.
Most of the details of her biography (well-worn territory by now) are easy to agree upon. On a May day in 1969, Annie Pootoogook was born into a lineage of artists. Her mother, Napachie Pootoogook (1938–2002), and her maternal grandmother, Pitseolak Ashoona, CM, RCA (c. 1904–1983), were trailblazing artists in their own right (among many other members of Pootoogook’s extended family).
But their influence wouldn’t surface in Pootoogook for almost 30 years. Annie Pootoogook was a great artist, but she wasn’t a prodigy. She had living to do, including a move to Nunavik, before she returned to Kinngait (Cape Dorset), NU, in the mid-1990s and entered the studio, agreeing to work on drawings at home and to bring them in for the twice-weekly sales.
Pootoogook began drawing in the West Baffin Eskimo Cooperative in earnest in 1997. Her work quickly caught the attention of William Ritchie, who was then the Arts Adviser at the studio. “I see so much that sometimes it all kind of looks the same, but Annie’s didn’t,” remembers Ritchie. “It was different, but Annie wasn’t an anomaly. [Her work] was like her mother’s. . . . I’ve worked with Napachie. I’ve worked with Kananginak [Pootoogook, RCA (1935–2010)]. I’d seen Itee [Pootoogook (1951–2014)]’s work. So, to see Annie come along in this vein, it made total sense.” When dealer Pat Feheley made a trip north to catch up on the latest work, Ritchie suggested she take a look at the drawings in Pootoogook’s shelf. “I looked through them, and I thought they were stunning,” recalls Feheley. “I literally went across the road to Jimmy Manning, who was at that point the Studio Manager, and said, ‘I have to break the rules, because I have got to get Annie Pootoogook in my show,’ and he said, ‘You will never sell those.’” That story, or versions of it, has become canon.
Feheley’s inclusion of Pootoogook’s work in The Unexpected (2002) was an immediate success—all the pieces sold—and the artist’s first solo exhibition quickly followed at the gallery in 2003. The next three years were an incredibly productive time and larger shows and accolades followed: Pootoogook was awarded the Sobey Art Award in 2006 (still today it is hard to imagine that just three
ᐊᕐᕌᒍᑦ ᐊᒥᓱᑦ ᐊᓂᒍᖅᑐᑦ, ᐃᖅᑲᓇᐃᔭᖅᑎᓪᓗᖓ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᖕᒥ, ᑲᒪᓚᐅᖅᑐᖓ ᐊᑭᑐᔪᖅ ᑐᓂᔭᐅᓇᓱᒃᑐᖅ ᐱᔭᐅᔪᒪᓐᖏᓪᖢᓂ
ᑖᒃᑯᓇᖓᑦ ᐃᖅᑲᓇᐃᔭᖅᑎᖏᓐᓂᑦ. ᐃᒃᐱᒍᓱᓚᐅᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ
ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᓴᖕᖐᓗᐊᕐᒪᑕ ᐆᒃᑑᑎᒋᔭᕆᐊᒃᓴᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᑉ ᓴᓇᔾᔪᓯᖓᓄᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᒐᔪᒃᑲᒥᒃ ᐃᓱᒪᕙᖕᒪᑕ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇ. ᐃᓱᒪᓚᐅᖅᑐᖓ ᖃᓄᖅ ᐅᑯᐊ ᓴᕿᑎᑕᖏ ᐋᕿᒃᓱᖅᓯᒪᖕᒪᖔᑕ— ᖃᓄᐃᒻᒪᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᕙ ᐅᓇ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᕈᓯᖓᑕ ᓴᖕᖏᓂᖓ? ᐊᖕᖏᓂᖅᐹᖅ ᐊᔪᖏᑦᑐᐋᓗᒃ ᑕᒪᐃᓐᓂᑦ ᑐᓂᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᐊ ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᒫᓐᓇᒧᖅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᕈᓯᐅᓕᖅᑐᒧᑦ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᐅᕗᖅ ᑕᒪᓐᓇ ᓄᓇᕐᔪᐊᓕᒫᒥ ᐊᖕᖏᖅᑕᐅᓯᒪᓪᓗᓂ ᐱᓕᕆᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ. ᐊᒥᓲᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑏᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᕐᔪᐊᖑᑎᒋᔪᖅ ᑕᑯᑎᑦᑎᓯᒪᔪᖃᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ
ᐊᓯᐊᓂᑦ ᑲᓇᑕᒥ ᑐᓴᐅᑎᓕᕆᔨᓂᑦ ᐅᓇ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐋᕿᒍᑎᑦᑎᐊᕈᑎᒋᔭᖓ ᑖᒃᑯᓄᖓ; ᐱᑕᖃᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐊᓯᐊᓂᑦ ᒫᓐᓇᐅᔪᖅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᕈᓯᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᓂᒃ ᐃᓅᓯᖓᓂᒃ ᓱᑯᓴᖅᑕᐅᓯᒪᔪᖃᓐᖏᓚᖅ ᑖᓐᓇᑐᐊᖅ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐃᑕᐅᓯᒪᔪᖅ. ᓱᓕᕗᖅ ᑕᑯᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᑕᑯᓯᒪᓐᖏᑦᑕᑎᓐᓂᒃ
ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥᒃ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ ᑕᐃᓱᒪᓂ ᐊᓯᕈᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᑎᑕᐅᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ, ᑲᑉᐱᐊᓱᓚᐅᓐᖏᑐᖅ ᓴᕿᑦᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᐊᒃᓱᕈᓐᓇᕐᓂᐹᖑᒐᓗᐊᖅᐸᑕ ᖃᓄᐃᓕᖓᔪᑦ ᑕᒪᒃᑯᑎᒍᑦ ᐊᓯᑦᔨᕈᑎᔪᑦ, ᑐᑭᓯᑎᑦᑎᔾᔪᑎᒋᔭᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᒥᒍᑦ. ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᐋᕿᒋᐊᑲᓐᓂᑐᐃᓐᓇᕐᓗᒋᑦ ᐃᓱᒪᓂᖅᐳᑦ ᖃᐅᔨᑎᑕᐅᓯᒪᕗᒍᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓐᖏᑕᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᓇᓱᒋᓚᐅᓐᖏᑕᑦᑎᓂᒃ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥᕐ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᑕᑯᑎᑦᑎᔾᔪᑎᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᒥᒍᑦ.
ᑕᒪᕐᒥᑦᑎᐊᐸᓗᒃ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᖓᓂᒃ ( ᒫᓐᓇᐃᔪᖅ ᖃᐃᔨᒪᔭᐅᑦᑎᐊᓕᖅᑑᑦ ᒫᓐᓇᐅᔪᖅ) ᐊᖕᖏᖃᑎᒋᔭᖏᑦ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᒐᒥᒃ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᖕᒪᑦ. ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᒪᐃ ᐅᓪᓗᕐᒥ 1969, ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ
ᐃᓅᓚᐅᖅᐳᖅ ᐱᕈᖅᓴᓪᓗᓂ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᓂ. ᐊᓈᓇᖓ, ᓇᐸᑦᓯ
ᐳᑐᒍᖅ (1938–2002), ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᓵᓇᑦᓯᐊᖓ, ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ ᐊᓲᓇ,
CM, RCA (c. 1904–1983), ᐃᒻᒪᑲᓪᓚᓂᒃ ᓄᑖᓂᒃ ᐊᖁᓯᐅᖅᑐᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᑦ ᓇᖕᒥᓂᖅ ᐱᔪᓐᓇᕐᓂᕐᒥᒍᑦ ( ᐊᕙᑖᓂ ᑖᒃᑯᐊ ᐃᓚᒋᔭᐅᔪᑦ ᐳᑐᒍᒃᑯᑦ ᖃᑕᖑᑎᑲᓐᓂᖏᓐᓂᒃ). ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᐊᔪᕆᖓᑎᑦᑎᓂᖏᑦ ᓴᕿᑐᓐᓇᓚᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᑖᑉᓱᑎᑐᓇᖅ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᖃᓂᒋᔮᓂ 30 ᐅᑭᐅᓄᑦ. ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᒻᒪᕆᐋᓘᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᓄᑲᖅᖠᐹᖑᒐᓗᐊᕋᒥ ᐱᓯᑎᒻᒪᕆᐋᓘᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ. ᐃᓅᓯᒃᓴᖃᓚᐅᕋᒥ, ᐃᓚᒋᔭᐅᓪᓗᓂ ᓅᓪᖢᓂ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᖅ ᑯᐸᐃᖕᒧᑦ, ᐅᑎᓚᐅᕋᓂ ᑭᓐᖓᓄᑦ, ᓄᓇᕗᑦ, ᑭᑎᐊᓂ 1990-ᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓯᖅᖢᒍ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᕕᒃ, ᐊᖕᖏᖅᖢᓂ ᓴᓇᖁᔭᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᓗᓂ ᐊᖕᖏᕋᒥᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐋᑉᐸᒡᓗᒋᑦ ᑐᓂᓗᒋᑦ ᒪᕐᕈᐃᕐᓗᓂ ᐱᓇᓱᐊᕈᓯᕐᒥ ᓂᐅᕕᖅᑕᐅᔪᓐᓇᖅᓯᔭᕌᖓᑕ.
ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖃᑦᑕᓕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᑭᓐᖓᐃᑦ ᑯᐊᑉᐸᖓ
ᑯᐊᑉ ᐅᓄᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᓴᓇᓪᓗᓂ ᑕᐃᑲᓂ 1997. ᓴᓇᖃᑦᑕᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᐱᔪᒪᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᒍᓕᐊᒻ ᐅᓕᑦᓯ, ᐅᓇᓗ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᔨᒋᔭᐅᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᕕᖕᒥ. “ᐊᒥᓱᓂᒃ ᑕᑯᓗᐊᒧᑦ ᐃᓛᓐᓂᒃᑯᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᐊᑦᑕᐃᓐᓇᐅᖂᔨᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑐᑦ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᐋᓂ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᓚᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ,” ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᖅ ᐅᓕᑦᓯ. “ᐱᔭᕐᓂᓚᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᐊᓂ ᓂᕆᐅᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᓕᐅᖅᖢᓂ. [ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ] ᐊᓈᓇᒥᑐᑦ... ᓴᓇᖃᑎᒋᓯᒪᔭᕋ ᓇᐸᑦᓯ. ᓴᓇᖃᑎᒋᓯᒪᔭᕋ ᑲᓈᖏᓐᓇᖅ [ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ, RCA (1935–2010). ᑕᑯᓯᒪᔭᕋ ᐊᐃᑎ [ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ (1951–2014)] ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ, ᑕᑯᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᐊᓂ ᐱᓕᕆᖕᒥᔭᖏᑦ ᖃᐃᔪᖅ ᑕᒪᐅᓐᓇ ᑕᖃᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ ᐊᐅᖃᑎᒌᑦ, ᑐᑭᓯᓇᑦᑎᐊᑐᐃᓐᓇᖅᑐᖅ.” ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᓂᐅᕕᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᖅ ᓂᐅᕕᐊᒃᓴᕆᓂᐊᖅᑕᒥᓂᒃ ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒧᐊᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᖃᐅᔨᔭᖅᑐᖅᖢᓂ ᒫᓐᓇ ᓴᓇᔭᐅᖃᑦᑕᓕᖅᑐᓂᒃ, ᐅᓕᑦᓯ ᐃᓱᒪᓕᖅᓯᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᕿᒥᕐᕈᐊᖁᓪᓗᒍ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᖁᓕᕈᐊᖓᓂ. “ᐊᑕᐅᓯᐅᑦᑕᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᕿᒥᕐᕈᐊᖅᐸᒃᑲ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓱᒪᓪᓗᖓ ᐅᑯᐊ ᐱᐅᔫᑎᒻᒪᕆᐋᓗᐃᑦ,” ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᑦ ᕕᕼᐃᓕ. “ᐅᐸᒡᖢᒍ ᐊᑭᑦᑎᓃᑦᑐᖅ ᐃᒡᓗᖓ ᔨᒥ ᒫᓂᒃ, ᐅᓇᓗ ᑕᐃᑉᓱᒪᓂ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᕕᖕᒥ ᐊᐅᓚᑦᓯᔨᒋᔭᐅᔪᖅ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᖃᖅᖢᖓ, ‘ᐱᖁᔭᕐᓂᒃ ᓱᕋᐃᓂᐊᕋᒪ, ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᐅᓇ ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᖕᒧᐊᖁᔭᕋ ᓴᕿᔮᕐᑎᑦᑎᖁᓪᓗᒍ,” ᐊᒻᒪᓗ
ᑖᓐᓇ ᐅᖃᖅᖢᓂ, ‘ᓂᐅᕐᕈᑎᒋᔪᓐᓇᔾᔮᓐᖏᑕᑎᒃ ᑕᐃᒃᑯᐊ.” ᑕᐃᒃᑯᐊ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᖏᑦ, ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᑕᐃᑉᓱᒪᓂᒥᓂ, ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐃᖏᕐᕋᓯᓂᐊᓕᕐᓂᕐᒪᑕ.
ᕕᕼᐃᓕᐅᑉ ᐃᓚᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂᑦ ᐅᓇ ᓂᕆᐅᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ (2002) ᐃᕐᖐᓐᓇᖅ ᐱᔪᒪᔭᐅᑲᐅᑎᒋᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ
- ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᓕᒫᖏᑦ ᓂᐅᕕᖅᑕᐅᓪᓗᑎᒃ - ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᓇ
ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎ ᐊᑕᐅᓯᐅᓪᓗᓂ ᓴᕿᔮᖅᑎᑦᑎᔭᕆᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᕿᓚᒥᑯᓗᒃ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᖕᓂᑦ ᒪᓕᒃᑕᐅᓕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ 2003-ᒥ. ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᐱᖓᓱᓄᑦ ᐊᕐᕌᒍᓄᑦ ᐊᖕᖏᔪᒥᒃ ᐱᕙᓪᓕᐊᑎᐊᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᖕᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᓴᕿᔮᕐᑎᑦᑎᖃᑦᑕᓕᖅᖢᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓕᓴᕆᔭᐅᓪᓗᓂ: ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᑐᓂᔭᐅᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᓱᐊᐱ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᓄᑦ ᓵᓚᖃᐅᓯᐊᖅ ᑕᐃᑲᓂ 2006 (ᓱᓕ ᐅᓪᓗᒥ ᐅᒃᐱᕐᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐱᖓᓱᑦ ᐊᕐᕌᒍᑐᐃᓐᓇᐃᑦ ᐊᓂᒍᖅᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᐃᓄᑑᓪᓗᓂ ᓴᕿᔮᖅᑎᑦᑎᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ᑐᓂᔭᐅᓕᖅᑐᖅ ᐳᖅᑐᓂᖅᐹᒥᒃ ᓵᓚᖃᐅᓯᐊᒥᒃ), ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᑯᔭᕋᕐᕖᑦ ᐃᓚᒋᔭᐅᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᐊᖕᖏᔫᑎᑦ ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᐸᐅᕗ ᐸᓛᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᒃ ᑐᓛᓐᑐᒥ, ᑕᐃᑲᓂ 2006; ᐅᑯᐊ ᒪᕐᕈᒃ ᐊᕐᕌᒍᑦ ᐊᓂᒍᕌᖓᑕ ᒪᓐᑐᕆᐊᒥ 2007; ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ 12 ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᑲᓛᓯᓐ, ᔮᒪᓂ, ᑕᐃᑲᓂ 2007; ᑲᓇᑕᒥ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᒃ
ᐊᒥᐊᓕᒐ ᐊᓪᓚᓄ ᓅ ᔪᐊᒃ, ᑕᐃᑲᓂ 2009; ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᒪᕐᕉᒍᒃ ᒪᕐᕉᒃ ᐊᓂᒍᕌᖓᑕ ᓯᑦᓂ ᐊᓯᑐᐃᓕᐊ 2010. ᑭᓯᐊᓂ 2007-ᒥ, ᐳᑐᒍᖅ
ᐃᓅᓯᖓ ᐊᓯᐊᓄᑦ ᓴᖑᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ. ᓄᓇᖃᓕᖅᐸᒡᖢᓂ ᕿᒪᒃᐸᒡᖢᒍ ᒪᓐᑐᕆᐊ (ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑭᖑᓂᐊᒍᑦ ᐋᑐᕚ), ᐊᒻᒪᓗ, ᐊᒥᓱᓂ ᑐᓴᒐᒃᓴᓂ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᐅᓯᒪᔪᖅ, ᐊᖓᔮᖃᑦᑕᕐᓂᖓ ᐱᔾᔪᑕᐅᔪᑦ ᓴᕿᑕᐅᔪᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖃᑦᑕᕐᓂᓂ ᐱᓕᕆᓐᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᓕᖅᖢᒋᑦ. (ᐅᖃᐅᓯᐅᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᑲᔪᓯᓂᖓᓂ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖓ ᐊᒡᒋᖅᑐᓄᑦ ᖁᓕᓄᑦ ᐅᑭᐅᓄᑦ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᐱᔭᕐᓂᓐᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᓕᖅᐳᖅ ᐱᓇᓱᒡᖢᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᑎᑕᐅᓚᐅᓐᖏᑦᒪᑕ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᓕᕆᓂᕐᒥ).
ᐅᓇ ᐱᐊᓚᔪᒻᒪᕆᐋᓗᖕᒥᒃ ᖁᕙᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ
ᐊᒥᓱᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᔪᒪᒐᓗᐊᖅᖢᑎᒃ ᐊᔪᖅᐸᒃᑐᑦ. ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᐊ ᓯᕗᓪᓕᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᑕᑯᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᑲᒪᒋᓚᐅᖅᑕᑲ ᑕᑯᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᑲᓴᑦᑎᐊᕆᖕᒪᒋᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐳᐃᒍᓐᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᓕᐊᕆᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ. ᐱᔭᕐᓂᕋᔭᖅᑐᖅ, ᐊᕙᑖᓂᑦ ᐅᑯᐊ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐳᖅᑐᓯᒋᐊᑲᓐᓂᖅᑎᓪᓗᒋ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑐᓕᕆᓂᕐᒥ ᓄᓇᕐᔪᐊᖓᓂ,
ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑕᐅᕙᒃᑐᑦ ᐊᓯᔨᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᖏᓐᓇᐅᔭᕐᒪᑕ ᒫᓐᓇᐅᔪᖅ ᑐᑭᓯᓯᒪᔭᕗᑦ ᐊᒃᑑᑎᕐᑲᕐᓂᖏᓂᒡᓗ ᐊᓯᔾᔨᕈᒫᖅᑐᒃᓴᐅᒋᕗᑦ ᕐᑲᖕᒐᐅᓕᖅᐸᑦ. —
years after her first solo show, she received this highly coveted prize), and exhibitions included a large showing at The Power Plant Contemporary Art Gallery in Toronto, ON, in 2006; the Biennale de Montréal in 2007; documenta 12 in Kassel, Germany, in 2007; the National Museum of the American Indian in New York, in 2009; and the Biennale of Sydney in 2010. But by 2007, Pootoogook’s personal life had begun to shift. She was living on and off in Montreal, QC (and later in Ottawa, ON), and, as countless newspaper articles reported, addiction issues surfaced and her drawing became much more sporadic. (It has been reported that she continued to draw over the next 10 years, but it’s harder to account for these works, which weren’t all being filtered through the gallery system).
It’s the kind of meteoric rise of which many artists could only dream. Looking over those earliest works that Feheley saw, it’s striking to see them bear such a resemblance to Pootoogook’s most iconic images. It would be easy, between these early works and her swift ascension in the art world, to assume that Pootoogook began as a fully-formed artist. There are interior scenes, such as an empty yellow kitchen, where small, mundane items—a coffee pot, fridge magnets, an ulu (woman’s knife) balanced against the counter—are rendered in crisp miniature. On the kitchen walls hang small objects: an oven mitt, a clock stopped at 1:55 p.m., and a calendar marking the month of June. These indicators of time and decorative elements appear again and again throughout Pootoogook’s work, but her drawing was a constant process of return, an urge to revisit and rework. In these early works tiled floors lack any sense of perspective, appearing more like a vertical checkerboard than a receding surface, shadows are non-existent and a sense of space is absent. These elements are addressed in later works and slowly added in
(or, in the case of the shadows, a sudden realization that Pootoogook dives into, only to even out later).
Pootoogook’s urge to return extends beyond technical capabilities into subject matter. There were no discreet phases to the artist’s work, no series that was worked on for a period of time and then moved beyond. It was always a negotiation. But it may be time for us, as viewers, to return as well and to reconsider some of the drawings that fit less neatly into the narrative that has come to define her. There is one work in the early batch—well before the press and the Sobey Award and documenta and leaving Kinngait—that looks a little different. Two figures float, unanchored in space, as strange mirror images of one another. Around one figure emanates sinuous lines in black, a red devilish creature floats at her shoulder and a rose wilts at her feet. Around the other figure, straight yellow lines burst, like rays of the sun, while an angel floats above and a radiant rose blooms. “Her life was like death before she was saved. After she ᐃᓱᒪᓗᑕ ᐅᑯᐊ ᐳᑐᒎᖅ ᐱᒋᐊᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔪᖏᑦᑎᐊᓕᖅᖢᓂ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᓪᓗᓂ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᑎᓴᒪᐅᕗᑦ ᐃᒡᓗᑉ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᖑᐊᖅᑐᑦ,
ᓲᕐᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᕐᑯᖅᓱᖅᑐᖅ ᐃᒐᕕᒃ, ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᒥᑭᔪᖅ, ᑕᑯᔪᒥᓇᖅᑐᑦ ᐱᐅᔫᑎᑦ ᐱᖁᑎᑦ - ᑳᐱᓕᐅᕈᑎ, ᖁᐊᒃᑯᕕᖕᒧᑦ ᓂᐱᑦᑕᐅᑎᓕᑦ
ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᑦ, ᐅᓇᓗ ᐅᓗ ᐃᓕᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐃᒐᕕᐅᑉ ᓵᖓᓂ - ᐅᑯᐊ
ᑐᓂᓯᔪᑦ ᐋᕿᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᒥᑭᔫᑕᐅᓪᓗᒋᑦ. ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᐃᒐᕕᖓᓂ
ᐃᒡᓗ ᓂᕕᖓᔪᑦ ᐊᑭᐊᖓᓂ ᒥᑭᔫᑎᑦ: ᐃᒐᐅᑉ ᐳᐊᓗᐊ, ᓯᑭᖑᔭᖅ ᓄᖃᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ 1:55 ᐅᓐᓄᓴᒃᑯᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᓪᓗᖅᓯᐅᑎᖓ ᔫᓐᒦᓪᖢᓂ.
ᐅᑯᐊ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᕈᑎᖏᑦ ᖃᖓᐅᓂᖓᓄ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒡᓗᒥ ᑕᑯᒥᓴᐅᑏᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᐊᑦᑕᐃᓐᓇᑦ ᓴᕿᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᓐᓂ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐅᑎᕐᕕᒋᑲᓐᓂᖅᐸᒡᖢᒋᑦ, ᐅᐸᑲᓐᓂᕆᐊᖃᓕᖅᐸᒡᖢᒋᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐋᕿᒃᓱᑲᓐᓂᖃᑦᑕᖅᖢᒋᑦ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᓯᕗᓪᓖᑦ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᓇᑎᖑᐊᑦ ᑭᓱᒥ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᖃᕐᒪᖔᑦ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᖅᑐᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᓴᓂᖓᓂᖅᓴᐅᔮᓕᖅᐸᒃᖢᑎᒃ ᓇᑎᕐᒦᖁᔨᔪᓐᓃᖅᖢᑎᒃ, ᑕᕐᕋᖏᑦ ᐱᑕᖃᕋᑎᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᑕᓗᐊᖅᑑᔮᖅᖢᑎᒃ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᐃᓗᓕᖏᑦ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᑦᑎᐊᑲᓐᓂᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᑭᖑᓪᓕᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓱᑲᐃᑦᑐᒥᒃ ᐃᓚᕙᓪᓕᐊᖑᔭᖅᖢᒋᑦ (ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑕᕐᕋᓕᖅᖢᒋᑦ, ᐅᔾᔨᕆᖃᑦᑕᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᑖᑉᓱᒪ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᐋᕿᑦᑎᐊᑲᐅᑎᒋᕙᒡᖢᒋᑦ, ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐅᐊᑦᑎᐊᕉᓕᕐᒪᑦ ᐋᕿᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᓕᖅᖢᓂ).
ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᑎᓕᐅᕆᕗᖅ ᐅᑎᕈᑎᒃ ᐅᖓᑖᓄᑦ ᖃᓄᐃᓕᐅᖁᕈᑕᐅᕙᒃᑐᑦ ᐊᓯᐊᒍᑦ ᐊᔪᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᑭᓱᒥᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᕈᒪᔭᕐᒥᖕᓂᒃ. ᓴᕿᑦᑎᐊᕐᓗᒋᑦ
ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᑲᖕᖑᓇᖅᑐᖃᕋᓂ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᑉ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂᑦ,
ᒪᓕᒃᐸᓪᓕᐊᔪᑦ ᐱᑕᖃᕋᑎᒃ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᓴᓇᔭᐅᓐᓂᕈᑎᒃ ᐊᑯᓂᐅᔪᒃᑯᑦ
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᐃᑲᖓᓂᑦ ᐱᕙᓪᓕᐊᖑᔭᖅᑐᖅ ᓅᑉᐸᓪᓕᐊᓂᖓᒍᑦ ᐅᖓᑖᓄᑦ. ᑕᐃᑰᓇ ᐋᔩᖃᑎᒌᖏᓐᓇᕐᓂᒃᑯᑦ. ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᒫᓐᓇ ᓈᒻᒪᒍᑎᓯᒪᓕᖅᑐᒍᑦ, ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᑎᐅᓪᓗᑕ, ᐅᑎᕐᕕᒋᓗᒋᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓱᒪᒋᑦᑎᐊᕐᓗᒋ ᐃᓚᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐋᕿᐅᑎᕙᓪᓕᐊᑎᐊᕐᒪᑕ ᑐᑭᓕᐅᕆᔨᐅᔪᒧᑦ
ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᑖᑉᓱᒥᖓ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᕈᑎᖃᖅᓯᒪᔭᒥᖕᓂᒃ. ᑕᐃᒪ ᐊᑕᐅᓯᖅ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖓ ᐱᒋᐊᓕᓵᖅᑕᖏᓐᓂᑦ - ᓯᕗᓂᑐᖃᖓᓂ ᓱᐊᐱᒥ ᓵᓚᖃᐅᓯᐊᓚᐅᕋᓂ ᓱᓕ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑖᑯᒥᑦᑕ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᕿᒪᓚᐅᕋᓂᐅᒃ ᓱᓕ ᑭᓐᖓᐃᑦ - ᐅᑯᐊ ᒥᑭᔪᒥᒃ ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓐᖏᓂᖃᖅᑐᑦ. ᒪᕐᕉᒃ ᑎᒥᖕᒍᐊᖅ ᐳᒃᑕᓛᖅᑐᒃ, ᑭᓴᖅᓯᒪᓇᑎᒃ ᓯᓚᑐᐃᓐᓇᒥ, ᐊᔾᔨᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᑕᕐᕋᖅᑑᑎ ᑕᕋᖅᑐᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓇᒍ. ᑖᓐᓇᑦᑕᐅᖅ ᐊᑕᐅᓯᖅ ᐱᒋᐊᖅᓯᔾᔪᑎᕕᓂᖓ ᑎᑎᑯᓘᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᕿᓂᖅᑕᒥᒃ, ᐊᐅᐸᖅᑐᒥᒃ ᓵᑕᓇᓯᖑᐊᖑᖂᔨᔪᒥᒃ ᖃᖓᑕᔪᖅ ᑐᐃᖓᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓄᓇᕋᖅ ᐱᕈᖅᑐᖅ ᐃᓯᒐᖓᓂ.
ᑖᓐᓇᑦᑕᐅᖅ ᐊᓯᐊ ᑭᓱᖑᐊᖅ, ᖁᖅᓱᖅᑕᐅᓪᓗᓂ ᓲᕐᓗ ᖄᖅᓯᒪᐅᖅᖢᒋᑦ, ᓲᕐᓗ ᓯᕿᓂᖅ ᖃᐅᒪᓂᖓ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐊᐃᖏᓕ ᖃᖓᑕᔪᑦ ᖁᓛᓂ
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑖᓐᓇ ᐱᕈᖅᑐᖅ ᐱᕈᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᓂ. “ᐃᓅᓯᖓ ᑕᐃᒫᒃᑕᐅᖅ ᑐᖁᖓᔪᑎᑐᑦ ᓴᐳᑎᔭᐅᓚᐅᕋᓂ ᓱᓕ, ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐃᓅᓕᓚᐅᖅᐳᖅ,” ᐅᖃᓕᒫᖅᖢᒍ ᑎᑎᖃᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖓᓂ. ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᒌᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᓱᖏᐅᖕᖓᔭᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓂᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᐅᓪᓛᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ ᓴᕿᑎᑦᑎᓯᒪᔪᖅ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇ ᑖᒃᑯᐊ ᒪᓕᑦᑎᐊᖏᓐᓇᖅᑐᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐊᓯᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂ ᑕᐃᒪᖓᓂ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖃᑦᑕᓕᕋᒥ.
ᐅᓇ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖓ (ᐊᕐᓇᖅ ᐱᖃᑎᓕᒃ ᐱᐅᔪᒥᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐱᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᒥᒃ) (2002–3) ᐊᕐᓇᖅ ᓇᓗᓕᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐊᕙᑖᓂᑦ ᐱᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᖁᒡᓗᒋᐊᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᐃᖕᖏᓕ. ᐅᓇ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ (ᐱᐅᔪᖅ
was saved, she became alive,” reads the inscription. It’s a work unlike the better known interior and camping scenes, and yet this trajectory would run parallel to Pootoogook’s other works throughout her career.
In Composition (Woman with Good and Evil) (2002–3) a woman is similarly torn between an evil serpent and an angel. In Composition (Good Replacing Bad) (2003–4) a man kneels in prayer on a floating leaf, as red lines emanate out from a Bible and reach towards him, seemingly driving out the blackened lines of negativity. These works are not simply spiritual—although Pootoogook produced a great many pieces that fall into that category—they are overtly religious. That religion factors heavily in Pootoogook’s work comes as little surprise. Looking through the works of Napachie and Pitseolak, it becomes evident that she was raised in a religious family. In her grandmother’s book Pitseolak: Pictures Out of My Life (1971), Anglican clergymen are frequently mentioned, and Pitseolak remembers “the completion of what in Cape Dorset is known as [the] Pootoogooks’ church.” Tragically, two of Pootoogook’s siblings were killed in a house fire that started while Napachie and her husband, Eegyvudluk Pootoogook, were at church. Religion also features heavily in Napachie’s own drawings.
Looking through enough of these images, a whole iconography, seemingly without any direct precedence, begins to emerge. It is a universe of binaries. There are lines to indicate good (often yellow) or bad (often black) forces, teardrop-like shapes, and roses, which are either dying or thriving. Many of these symbols are either intuitive or quotidian. Plastic flowers, roses in particular, are popular in the North; even in historian Dorothy Harley Eber’s account of visiting Pitseolak decades ago for their interviews, she makes a note of “a bowl of plastic flowers” sitting in the room.
In many ways, these works, with their interior language and total disconnect from lived reality, run counter to Pootoogook’s best-known works, which render scenes of life in the North, caught between Inuit tradition and the influence of southern forces. “The reality shown in Pootoogook’s interiors is that Inuit life, currently, is a meshing of the traditional lifestyle with new ways adopted from the South. Therein lies the fascination of these compositions,” writes curator and art historian Nancy Campbell. Pootoogook captures this process through her attention to the mundanity of things: clocks and key hooks on walls or Dr. Phil on the television, and of course through her willingness to tackle the darker sides of life unflinchingly. Her images of domestic abuse and the fallout of addiction are undoubtedly among Pootoogook’s most recognized works, despite constituting a small subset of her output. There is belief because of these depictions that Pootoogook was something of a documentarian. It’s a reading that was also promoted by the artist herself, who was insistent on the veracity of her drawings. “I cannot draw anything that I did not experience,” she explained in a 2006 documentary. It’s an impulse that was shared by Pitseolak and Napachie, and one of which Pootoogook was aware. She remembered Pitseolak’s motivations, recounting what her grandmother told her, “‘I’m drawing because my grandchildren have to eat.’ But she drew a true story, too, about her life.”
Critic Deborah Root and others have written extensively about the troubling search for authenticity within Inuit art, and the ways in which Pootoogook’s work both upends and plays into these impulses. “Within a contemporary art paradigm . . . ‘authenticity’ means something rather different. Here, disturbing images tend to be seen as more ‘real’ than beautiful ones, in part because the artist’s job is to strip away the dishonesty and pretension of modern society,” argues Root. Perhaps this accounts for the foregrounding of Pootoogook’s interiors and camp scenes over her more spiritual and religious works. The latter, I would argue, are the more difficult works. As
Dr. Heather Igloliorte has argued, “Her images de-exoticized the Arctic. Yet, at the same time, they highlighted how truly great the distance is between the lives of southern Canadians and their neighbours in Inuit Nunangat, and how little the South truly knows about the experience of life in the North.” But how does a southern audience even begin to place itself in relation to Pootoogook’s spiritual ᐲᖅᓯᔪᖅ ᐱᓐᖏᑦᑐᒥᒃ) (2003–4) ᐊᖑᑎ ᓰᖁᖓᔪᖅ ᑐᒃᓯᐊᖅᑐᖅ
ᖄᖓᓂ ᐅᖃᐅᔭᖅ ᖃᖓᑕᔪᖅ, ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐊᐃᐸᖅᑐᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᖅᓯᒪᓂᖏᑦ ᐱᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᑐᒃᓯᐅᑎᓂᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓴᒡᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᑖᑉᓱᒧᖓ, ᓲᕐᓗ ᕿᓂᖅᑕᒥᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᓯᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᖅ ᐱᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᓂ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᖃᖑᐊᓕᕌᖓᒥ. ᐅᑯᐊ
ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᑕᕐᓂᕐᒥᖔᖅᓯᒪᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ - ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᒐᓗᐊᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᓴᕿᑦᑎᓯᒪᕗᖅ ᐊᒥᓱᓂᒃ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᑕᒡᕗᖓ ᐋᕿᖁᐅᑎᑦᑎᐊᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᑦ
- ᐅᑯᐊ ᑐᑭᓯᐊᕐᓂᕐᒥᒃ ᐱᓯᒪᓗᐊᕌᓗᓐᖏᑲᓗᐊᖅᖢᑎᒃ. ᑕᒪᓐᓇ ᐅᒃᐱᖅᑐᓕᕆᓂᖓ ᐱᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂ ᑲᒪᓇᖅᑐᖅ ᑕᑯᔮᕋᓱᒋᓐᓇᓐᖏᒻᒪᑕ. ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᓇᐹᑦᓯ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ
ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ, ᓇᓗᓇᕈᓐᓃᑦᑎᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᐅᓇ ᐱᕈᖅᓴᑎᑕᐅᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ
ᐅᒃᐱᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᐃᓚᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ. ᐊᓈᓇᑦᓯᐊᖓᑕ ᐅᖃᓕᒫᒐᓕᐊᖓ ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ: ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᖏᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᓐᓂᑦ (1971), ᐊᐅᐸᓗᒃᑐᓅᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔪᕆᖅᓱᐃᔩᑦ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᐅᖏᓐᓇᖅᑐᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᖅ “ᐱᔭᕇᓕᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ ᖃᓄᖅ ᑭᓐᖓᐃᑦ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᔭᐅᔪᖅ [ᐅᓇ] ᐳᑐᒍᒃᑯᑦ ᑐᒃᓯᐊᕐᕕᖓ.” ᐱᓂᖅᓗᒃᑐᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ᒪᕐᕉᒃ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓄᖃᖏᒃ
ᑐᖁᓚᐅᖅᑐᑦ ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᑯᐊᓪᓚᒃᑎᓪᓗᒍ ᐅᓇᓗ ᐱᒋᐊᖅᑐᕕᓂᖅ ᓇᐹᑦᓯ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᐃᖓ, ᐃᔨᕙᓪᓗᖅ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ, ᑐᒃᓯᐊᕐᕕᖕᒦᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ. ᐅᒃᐱᕐᓂᖅ ᓴᕿᑎᑕᐅᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᖕᖏᔪᒥᒃ ᓇᐸᑦᓯᐅᑉ ᓇᖕᒥᓂᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖏᓐᓂ.
ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᐊ ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᑦ, ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂᑦ
ᑐᑭᓕᐅᕈᑎᖏᑦ, ᓲᕐᓗ ᑐᑭᒧᐊᒍᑎᖃᓗᐊᕋᑎᒃ ᓇᓕᐊᒃ ᐱᒻᒪᕆᐅᓂᖅᓴᐅᖕᒪᖔᑦᑕ, ᓴᕿᑉᐸᓪᓕᐊᓗᑎᒡᓗ. ᐅᓇ ᓄᓇᕐᔪᐊᑦᑎᓂ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᖃᖅᑐᑦ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᑎᑎᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐱᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐱᐅᔪᒥᒃ (ᖁᖅᓱᖅᐸᒡᖢᒋᑦ) ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᐱᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ (ᕿᕐᓂᖅᐸᒡᖢᒋᑦ) ᐊᒃᓱᕉᑎᓯᒪᓪᓗᑎᒃ, ᖁᒡᕕᒃᑎᑐᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐱᕈᖅᑐᖑᐊᑦ, ᓇᓗᓇᐃᕈᑎᒋᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᑐᖁᓕᖅᑐᑦ ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᐱᕈᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᑎᐊᖅᑐᓂᒃ. ᐊᒥᓱᑦ ᓴᕿᑕᖏᑦ ᑭᓱᖑᐊᑦ ᓱᓕᔪᕆᔭᒥᓂᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᖃᐅᑕᒫᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥᒃ ᐊᑐᖅᑕᐅᔪᑦ. ᓄᓇᕋᖑᐊᑦ, ᐱᓗᐊᖅᑐᒥᒃ ᐱᕈᖅᑐᖑᐊᑦ, ᐱᐅᒋᔭᐅᖕᒪᑕ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ: ᐃᒻᒪᑲᓪᓚᖕᓂᒃ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᖅᑐᐊᖅᑎ ᑐᓗᑎ ᕼᐋᓕ ᐄᐳ ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᖅ ᐳᓛᖅᖢᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ
ᖁᓕᑦ ᐊᕐᕌᒍᓂ ᐊᓂᒍᖅᓯᒪᓕᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ ᐊᐱᖅᓱᓚᐅᖅᓯᒪᒐᒥᐅᒃ, ᓇᓗᓇᐃᖅᓯᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐃᒪᓐᓇ ‘ᐱᕈᖅᑐᖑᐊᑐᐃᓐᓇᑦ ᐴᖃᖅᖢᑎᒃ’ ᑕᒫᓂ ᓵᒦᑦᑐᑦ.
ᖃᓄᑐᐃᓐᓇᑦᑎᐊᖅ, ᐅᑯᐊ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᖑᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᓇᖕᒥᓂᖅ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᖃᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᑕᖕᒋᑦᑎᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᓪᓚᑖᕆᔭᑦᑎᓂ, ᓵᒥᑦᑐᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐱᐅᓛᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᓴᕿᑎᑦᑎᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᓂᒃ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ, ᐃᓗᐊᓃᑲᒥ ᐊᕙᑖᓂᑦ ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᐱᐅᓯᑐᖃᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᔭᐅᕈᑕᐅᔪᑦ ᖃᓪᓗᓈᓂᑦ. “ᐅᓇ ᐃᓅᓯᓪᓚᑖᑦᑎᒍᑦ ᓴᕿᑎᑦᑎᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᖑᐊᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᖏᓐᓂᒃ, ᒫᓐᓇ, ᐃᒧᕙᓪᓕᐊᔪᖅ ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᑐᖃᖏᓐᓄᑦ ᓄᑖᓂ ᐊᑐᖅᓯᓕᖅᖢᑎᒃ ᖃᓪᓗᓈᓂᑦ. ᑕᐃᑲᓂ ᑕᒪᔾᔭ ᑲᒪᓇᖅᑐᑦ
ᑕᒪᒃᑯᐊ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᓐᓂ,” ᑎᑎᕋᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᑕᑯᔭᒐᖃᕐᕕᖕᒥ
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ ᐃᑦᑕᓂᑕᓕᕆᔨᐅᔪᖅ ᓈᓐᓯ ᑳᑉᐳ. ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓴᕿᑎᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᑕᒪᑐᒥᖓ ᐱᕙᓪᓕᐊᓂᖓᓂᑦ ᐅᔾᔨᕆᕙᓪᓕᐊᔭᓂ
ᑕᒪᐅᓐᓇ ᑲᔾᔮᕐᓇᖅᑐᐃᓐᓇᓐᖏᓂᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᑭᓱᑐᐃᓐᓇᐃᑦ: ᓯᑭᖖᒍᔭᖅ
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑮᑦ ᐊᑭᐊᕐᒦᑦᑐᑦ ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑖᒃᑕ ᕕᐅ ᑕᓚᕖᓴᒦᑦᑐᖅ,
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐄ ᑕᒪᐅᓐᓇ ᐱᓕᕆᔪᒪᓂᕐᒥᒍᑦ ᐋᕿᒃᓗᒍ ᑖᕐᓂᖅ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥᓂ ᑲᑉᐱᐊᓱᒐᓂ. ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᓂᖓᖅᑕᐅᖃᑦᑕᕐᓂᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓄᖃᕈᓐᓇᐃᓕᓯᒪᔭᓂ ᓇᓗᓇᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐃᓕᓴᕐᓇᓛᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᑕᒪᔾᔭᐅᒐᓗᐊᕐᒥᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᒥᑭᔫᓪᓗᓂ ᐊᖕᖏᔪᑎᓂᑦ ᐊᕙᑎᒥᓂᑦ ᓂᓪᓕᐅᑎᒋᔭᖏᑦ. ᐅᒃᐱᓇᖅᑐᖅ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᐅᑯᐊ ᓴᕿᑎᑕᖏᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᑖᓐᓇ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᐃᓚᖓᒍᑦ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᓕᐅᖅᑎ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᐅᖃᓕᒫᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᓲᕐᓗ ᐊᑐᖅᑕᐅᓕᖁᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᑉ ᐃᒻᒥᒍᑦ, ᐅᓇᓗ ᐃᒡᓯᓇᐃᓂᐊᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᑕᒪᔾᔭᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᓱᓕᔪᓂᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᒥᒍᑦ. “ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᕈᓐᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᖓ ᑕᒪᒃᑯᓂᖓ ᐊᑐᖅᓯᒪᓐᖏᑕᓐᓂᒃ,” ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ 2006 ᐅᓂᒃᑳᓕᐊᖑᒐᒥ. ᑕᒪᓐᓇ ᐊᔭᐅᕈᑎᒋᔭᑎᒃ ᑕᐃᒫᒃᑕᐅᖅ ᑖᒃᑯᑎᑐᑦ ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓇᐸᑦᓯ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᓚᐅᖅᑕᖓ. ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᖅ ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᔪᒪᔾᔪᑎᖏᓐᓂᒃ, ᐊᑐᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᐊᓈᓇᑦᓯᐊᖓᑕ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᖏᑦ ᐃᒻᒥᓄᑦ, “‘ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑐᖓ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᐃᕐᖑᑕᒃᑲ ᓂᕆᔭᒃᓴᖃᕐᓂᐊᕐᒪᑕ.’ ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑐᖅ ᓱᓕᔪᓂᒃ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᓂᒃ, ᑕᐅᖅ, ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥᓂᒃ.”
ᐅᖃᖅᑎᐅᔪᖅ ᑎᐳᓚ ᐅᓗᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᓯᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᖃᑦᑕᖅᓯᒪᕗᑦ ᐅᓄᖅᑐᐃᖅᖢᑎᒃ ᕿᓂᖃᑦᑕᕐᓂᕐᒥᖕᓂᒃ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᓪᓚᕆᒃᑐᓂᒃ ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᓐᓂᒃ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᐃᑰᓇ ᐅᓇ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᖑᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᐸᒍᑎᓯᒪᓕᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᖁᔭᐅᔭᕌᖓᒥᒃ. ᐃᓗᐊᓂ ᒫᓐᓇᐅᔪᖅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᕈᓯᖅ... ‘ᓴᓇᓪᓚᕆᒃᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐃᒻᒥᒍᑦ’ ᑐᑭᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔾᔨᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᓂᒃ. ᐅᕙ, ᑕᑯᒥᓇᓗᐊᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᑕᑯᔭᐅᔭᓐᓂᖅᓴᐅᔪᑦ ‘ᓱᓕᔪᖅ’ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᓐᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᒋᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᐱᐅᔪᓄᑦ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔪᓄᑦ, ᐃᓚᖓ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐃᖅᑲᓇᐃᔮᖏᑦ ᐲᔭᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᓪᓗᒋᑦ ᓴᒡᓗᑕᐅᓯᒪᓂᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐱᖕᖑᐊᑐᐃᓐᓇᖅᑐᑦ ᒫᓐᓇᐅᓕᖅᑐᖅ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᒥ ᓄᓇᖃᑎᒌᓂ,’ ᐊᐃᕙᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᓗᑦ.
scenes? There is no clearly demarked space to step into, no calendar on the wall indicating the date, no recognizable television program that suggests continuity between life in the South and life in the North. Instead, there is unmoored emotion and religious leanings that, in a contemporary art world more accustomed to scathing critiques of the church, register as undeniably unfashionable.
There is some continuity between these bodies of work. The spiritual scenes still depict a kind of event, but it’s an interior emotional one, rather than an exterior one. As Jimmy Manning has described it, “Sometimes she will draw hurting feelings from her heart which she’s not afraid to say on paper.” Feheley began to understand how immediate the emotional process of these works was when she saw the artist create Composition (Sadness and Relief for My Brother) (2006). It was a work that Pootoogook began in Scotland, where she spent two months working as part of the Glenfiddich Artist in Residence program. “She had started a drawing and there were all of these black lines and things,” Feheley recalls. “And she said, ‘I’m drawing this because I’m upset about my brother, because he was arrested, and I think this time they’re going to put him in jail.’ But the next day, she talked to her family again and he hadn’t been jailed, he had been let go, and she completed the drawing in happy mode.”
Whereas Pootoogook’s interior and exterior scenes function like a stage—with a rectangular, demarcated region where the action takes place—the spiritual works and the transformation pieces are encircled with sinuous lines. The central figures sit in the middle of the page, with elements reaching in and looping out. There are some formal similarities with her other scenes—namely, her strong, clear lines, which she marked in pencil before rendering in ink. But the approach is so different it leaves me searching for another point of reference, a different influence. For these works, Ritchie points to the work of illustrator Alootook Ipellie (1951– 2007), whose black-and-white drawings, published with Inuktut commentary and heavily circulated in the North, were a watershed moment. “His work looks like a lot of other people’s work now, [but] it was the first influence of that kind of linear drawing, that kind of portraiture,” he explains. “It was really popular amongst Inuit, and I think Annie and Tim [Pitsiulak (1967–2016)] and Itee and all those guys have a little bit of him in them.” The connection is far from direct, but there are moments where Ipellie’s influence on Pootoogook might be apparent, like Composition (Evil Spirit) (2004), where an umbilical cord-like line connects the figure’s mouth to the genitals of the spirit, encircling them both.
Trying to find some obvious direct reference point, though, is something of a fool’s errand. Napachie and Pitseolak’s books, because of their inclusion of Inuktut and broad circulation are more the exception than the rule in terms of impact. The average drawing has less of a wide reception in the co-op than one might expect. It’s a reality that contradicts arguments that Pootoogook’s work had a directly traceable influence on other artists working in Kinngait. “Annie would work at home on a drawing for a weekend or overnight, because we buy drawings on Tuesdays and Thursdays. When Annie would walk in the door, I would take that drawing, lay it out ᐃᒻᒪᖄ ᐅᓇ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᓕᒃ ᓴᕿᔮᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᑦᑐᓂᒃ
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᐅᓪᓛᖅᓯᒪᖑᐊᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᑕᒪᐅᓐᓇ ᑕᕐᓂᖓᓂᖔᕐᓂᖅᓴᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᒃᐱᕐᓂᓕᕆᓂᖅᓴᐅᔪᓂᑦ. ᐅᓇ ᐃᓱᐊᓄᑦ, ᐊᐃᕙᔪᓐᓇᖅᑐᖓ, ᐱᔭᕐᓂᓐᖏᑑᑕᐅᓂᖅᓴᐅᔪᓂᒃ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᓐᓄᑦ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᕼᐃᑐ ᐃᒡᓗᓕᐅᖅᑎ ᐊᐃᕙᓯᒪᔪᖅ, “ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᖏᑦ ᓴᕿᑎᑦᑎᑲᓐᓂᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ. ᓱᓕᓕ, ᓴᕿᑦᑎᑲᓐᓂᕋᔭᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᖃᓄᖅ ᐅᖓᓯᒌᓐᓇᕆᖕᓂᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᐃᓅᓯᖏᑦ ᑲᓪᓗᓈᑦ ᓄᓇᖓᓂᑦ
ᑲᓇᑕᒥᐅᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓴᓂᓕᖏᑦ ᐃᓄᐃᑦ ᓄᓇᖓ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓇᓗᓴᐃᖅᑐᑦ ᖃᓄᖅ ᒥᑭᔪᒻᒪᕆᐋᓗᖕᒥᒃ ᖃᓪᓗᓈᑦ ᓄᓇᖓ ᖃᐅᔨᒪᓂᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥᒃ ᐃᓅᓯᖃᖅᑐᒥᒃ.” ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᖃᓄᖅ ᖃᓪᓗᓈᑦ ᓄᓇᖓᓂ ᑕᑯᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᓄᑦ ᐋᕿᒍᑎᕙᓪᓕᐊᔪᑦᑕᐅᔪᖅ ᖃᓄᕆᑑᓂᖓᓂ
ᐊᑐᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᕐ ᑕᕐᓂᓕᕆᔾᔪᑎᒋᔭᖏᑦ? ᐱᑕᖃᓗᐊᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐃᓂᖃᕐᕕᒃᓴᒃᑲᓐᓂᕐᓂᒃ ᑕᒡᕗᖓ, ᐅᓪᓗᖅᓯᐅᑎᑕᖃᕋᓂ ᐊᑭᐊᖓᓂ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᖅᓯᔪᒥᒃ ᖃᖓᐅᓐᓂᕐᒪᖔᑦ, ᐃᓕᓴᕐᓇᖅᑐᖃᕋᓂ ᑕᓚᕖᓴᒃᑯᑦ
ᐅᑯᐊ ᐃᓱᒪᓕᕈᑎᒋᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᑲᔪᓯᔪᒥᒃ ᐊᕙᑖᓂ ᐃᓄᓯᖓ ᖃᓪᓗᓈᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ.
ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐃᓚᖓᒍᑦ ᑲᔪᓯᓂᖅᑕᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑖᒃᑯᓂᖓ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᑕᕐᓂᖑᐊᑦ ᓴᕿᔮᖅᑐᑦ ᑕᑯᑎᑦᑎᔪᑦ ᖃᓄᐃᓕᐅᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ,
ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᐃᓗᒥᒍᑦ ᕿᐊᒥᒍᑦ ᐊᑕᔪᑦ ᐋᓐᓂᕆᔭᒥᒍᑦ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᓯᓚᑖᓂ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᓐᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᓪᓗᓂ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᔨᒥ ᒫᓂᖕ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᓚᐅᖅᑕᖓ ᐃᒪᓐᓇ, “ᐃᓛᓐᓂᒃᑯᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐋᓐᓂᖅᓯᒪᖑᐊᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᐃᒃᐱᖕᓂᐊᔪᓂᒃ ᐆᒻᒪᑎᖓᓂᖔᖅᑐᓂᒃ ᑲᑉᐱᐊᒋᓇᒋᑦ ᓴᕿᑎᑕᕆᐊᒃᓴᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᒥᒍᑦ ᐸᐃᐹᒧᑦ.” ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᑐᑭᓯᕙᓪᓕᐊᓕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᖃᓄᖅ ᐃᓱᒪᖓᓄᑦ ᕿᐊᖓᓄᑦ ᐊᑕᓂᖏ ᐱᕙᓪᓕᐊᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᒥᓂ ᑕᑯᒐᒥ ᐅᓇ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎ ᓴᕿᑦᑎᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᖅ ᖁᕕᐊᓇᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ (ᓄᒫᓱᒃᑐᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᖃᓄᐃᒐᓂ ᐊᓂᒥᓄᒃ) (2006). ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᓕᓚᐅᖅᑕᖓ ᐳᑐᒎᖅ ᐱᒋᐊᓚᐅᖅᑐᑦ ᓯᑳᑦᓚᓐ, ᑕᐃᑲᓃᓪᖢᓂ ᒪᕐᕉᖕᓄᑦ
ᑕᕿᓄᑦ ᓴᓇᓪᓗᓂ ᐃᓚᖓᓄ ᒋᓕᓐᕕᑎᔅ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᓂᕐᒧᑦ ᐱᓕᕆᑎᑦᑎᔾᔪᑕᐅᔪᖅ. “ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖃᑦᑕᓕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ
ᕿᓂᖅᑕᐃᓇᓂᒃ ᓴᓇᖃᑦᑕᖅᖢᓂ ᐱᖁᑎᓂᒡᓗ,” ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᐃᖃᐅᒪᔪᖅ. “ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ‘ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑐᖓ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇ ᓴᐃᒪᓐᖏᓇᒪ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᐊᓂᒐ, ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᑎᒍᔭᐅᖕᒪᑦ ᐸᓖᓯᒃᑯᓂᑦ,
ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓱᒪᔪᖓ ᐊᓄᓪᓚᒃᓰᕕᖕᒧᐊᖅᑕᐅᓂᐊᓕᖅᑐᖅ.’ ᑭᓯᐊᓂ ᖃᐅᑎᓪᓗᒍ, ᐅᖃᓪᓚᖃᑎᒋᒃᑲᓐᓂᕋᒥᒋᑦ ᐃᓚᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑐᓴᖅᖢᓂ ᐊᓄᓪᓚᓰᕕᖕᒧᐊᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ, ᑎᒍᔭᐅᓐᖕᒋᓐᓂᖅᖢᓂ, ᐱᔭᕇᖅᖢᓂᐅᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᓂ ᖁᕕᐊᓱᓕᖅᖢᓂ.”
ᐃᒪᐃᒻᒪᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᐃᒡᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᖑᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓯᒪᒦᖑᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᐋᕿᒃᓱᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᓲᕐᓗ ᐱᖕᖑᐊᕐᕕᒃ ᓇᑎᖓᓂ ᖁᑎᖕᓂᖓᓂᑦ - ᐊᕙᓗᖃᖅᖢᓂ, ᓲᕐᓗ ᐃᓗᐊᓃᑦᑐᑦ ᑖᓐᓇ ᖃᓄᐃᓕᐅᕐᕕᖓᓐᓂ - ᑕᕐᓂᓕᕆᔪᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑭᓱᕈᖅᐸᓪᓕᐊᖑᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᕙᓗᓯᒪᑦᑎᐊᖅᐳᑦ ᑐᑭᓕᐊᕋᑎᒃ ᑎᑎᖁᑖᒃᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ. ᑖᓐᓇ ᕿᑎᐊᓃᑦᑐᖅ ᐃᒡᓯᕙᔪᖅ ᕿᑎᐊᓂ ᒪᒃᐱᒐᕐᒥ, ᐃᓚᖃᐅᖅᖢᒍ ᑕᒡᔭᖔᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᖕᒪᓗᒐᓛᓕᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᒋᑦ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐊᔾᔨᑎᐊᐸᓗᒋᖕᒥᔭᖏᑦ ᐊᓯᖏᑦ ᓴᕿᑎᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ - ᑕᐃᓐᓇᓗ, ᓴᖕᖏᔫᔪᖅ, ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᖅᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ, ᐅᓇᓗ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᒧᑦ ᕿᔪᓕᖕᒧᑦ ᐱᔭᕇᕈᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᑖᓐᓇ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎ. ᑖᓐᓇᓗ ᐱᒋᐊᕈᑎᒋᔭᖓ ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓐᖏᑦᑎᐊᕐᒪᒍ ᖃᐅᔨᓇᓱᒃᑲᓗᐊᖅᖢᒍ ᓇᑭᑦ ᐱᒋᐊᖅᓯᓂᕕᓂᖓ ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ, ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓐᖏᑦᑕᖏᓐᓄᑦ ᓴᖑᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᖅ. ᐅᑯᐊ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ, ᐅᓕᑦᓯ ᐅᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᒃᑯᐊᖅᖢᒍ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐊᕐᓗᑑᖅ ᐊᐃᐱᓕ (1951–2007), ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᕿᓂᖅᑕᑦ-ᐊᒻᒪᓗ
ᖃᑯᖅᑐᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ, ᐅᖃᓕᒫᒐᕐᒧᐊᖅᑕᐅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᐃᓄᒃᑎᑐᑦ ᐅᖃᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑭᓇᑐᐃᓐᓇᐅᑉ ᐱᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᐅᑭᐅᖅᑕᖅᑐᒥ, ᐅᑯᐊ ᑕᐃᔅᓱᒪᓂᐅᓚᐅᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᐊᑐᖅᑕᐅᖃᑦᑕᖅᑎᓪᓗᒋᑦ. “ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ
on the tabletop and look at it. And if it was really good, I would bring over to Joemie [Takpaungai], who is the Assistant Studio Manager, and we would decide what the price of the drawing would be,” explains Ritchie. “Two or three people in the studio might have seen it. It goes into a drawer, into a tube and it ships out. It never comes back. None of this art comes back to the community.” More than subject matter or style, Feheley argues that Pootoogook’s influence can be felt in the freedom that she promoted. “It was as if freedom was suddenly okay,” Feheley says of the shift, “and you could see it happen.”
Pootoogook’s work told stories. We, in turn, tell stories about Pootoogook’s work. No artistic legacy is set in stone, and our understanding of her work and its impact will inevitably shift and change over time. This year alone, there will certainly be plenty of opportunities to see it in a new light: among other showings, curator Kitty Scott has included it in the Liverpool Biennial 2018. Hopefully, these returns will begin to account for the breadth of experience that is detailed across Pootoogook’s work. Looking through the memoirs of the artist’s mother and grandmother, I was struck by a particular passage from Eber in the latter’s book: “In August 1971, about a year after we finished the interview sessions that led to Pitseolak: Pictures Out of My Life, I was able to show Pitseolak the first copy of our book. As her grandchildren looked on, she turned every page, and then, when I asked what she thought, with the help of our interpreter she said, ‘I am not ashamed of it.’” I imagine Pootoogook among that group of grandchildren, looking on at a life laid out in images and words, understanding that there is no shame in telling your story. Perhaps, we are finally in a position to listen to the full range of stories Pootoogook saw fit to share with us. ᑕᑯᔪᓐᓇᖅᑕᕗᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᑎᐊᖏᑦ ᐊᓯᖏᓐᓂᑦ ᓴᓇᔾᔪᓯᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ ᒫᓐᓇ,
[ᑭᓯᐊᓂ] ᓯᕗᓪᓕᖅᐹᖑᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔭᐅᕈᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᔭᕐᓇᕐᓂᕐᒥᒃ ᐃᓕᑦᑎᕕᐅᓪᓗᓂ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐃᓄᒃᖑᐊᒍᑕᐅᔪᑦ, “ᑕᐃᓐᓇ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ. “ᑕᐃᒃᑯᐊ ᐱᒋᐅᔭᐅᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒃᓱᐊᓗᒃ ᐃᓄᖕᓂᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᓱᒪᔪᖓ ᐊᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑎᒻ (ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓚᖅ (1967–2016)] ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᐃᑏ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᐃᒃᑯᐊ ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᐊᓯᖏᑦ ᑕᐃᑉᓱᒪᖔᒐᓚᖅᑐᐃᓇᐅᔪᑦ.” ᑲᑎᖓᓂᖏᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᑲᓴᑦᑎᐊᖅ, ᑭᓯᐊᓂᓕ ᑕᐃᒪᐅᕗᑦ ᐊᐃᐱᓕᐅᑉ ᐊᔭᐅᕈᑎᖏᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂ ᑕᑯᔭᒃᓴᐅᒋᕗᑦ, ᓲᕐᓗ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ (ᐊᓕᐊᓇᖅᑐᑦ) (2004), ᑕᐃᑲᓂᓗ ᒥᒃᖠᐊᖑᐊᖅ ᐊᑕᔪᖅ ᖃᓂᖓᓄᑦ ᑖᒃᑯᓇᖓᑦ ᐊᓕᐊᓇᖅᑐᓂᑦ, ᐊᕙᓗᓯᒪᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ.
ᓇᓂᓯᓇᓱᒡᖢᓂ ᐃᓚᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᑕᒪᑐᒥᖓ ᐱᓯᒪᓪᓚᕆᒃᑐᑦ
ᐅᕙᑦᑎᓂᒃ ᖃᐅᔨᑎᑦᑎᔪᑦ, ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᒐᓗᐊᕐᒪᑦ, ᐃᓚᖓᒍᑦ ᐊᕿᑐᖓᓴᖕᓂᒃᑯᑦ. ᓇᐹᑦᓯ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐳᑐᒎᖅ ᐅᖃᓕᒫᒐᖏᑦ,
ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᐃᓚᓕᐅᔾᔨᓯᒪᖕᒪᑕ ᐃᓄᒃᑎᑐᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᓇᒧᑐᐃᓐᓇᑦᑎᐊᖅ ᐱᔭᐅᔪᓐᓇᖅᑎᑕᐅᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᒪᓕᓗᐊᕋᑎᒃ ᖃᓄᖅ ᐊᒃᑐᐃᒐᔭᕐᓂᖓᓂᒃ. ᐅᓇ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᑐᐃᓐᓇᖅᑐ ᐱᔪᒪᔭᐅᓗᐊᓐᖏᓂᖅᓴᐅᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᑯᐊᐸᒃᑯᓃᑦᑐᑦ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᔪᒥᓇᓐᖏᒃᑲᓗᐊᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ. ᓱᓕᕗᖅᓕ ᐊᑐᖅᑕᐅᓪᓚᐅᒃᑐᖅ ᐅᓇ ᐅᖃᖅᑕᖓᑕ ᐊᔾᔨᒋᓐᖏᑕᖓ ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐳᑑᒍᑉ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ ᑕᒡᕙᖔᕐᓂᖓᓂ ᓇᓗᓇᖏᑦᑎᐊᖅᑐᖅ ᐱᔪᓐᓇᓕᖅᑎᑦᑎᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᓂᒃ ᑭᓐᖓᓂ. “ᐊᓂ ᓴᓇᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᖕᖏᕋᖅᓯᒪᓪᓗᓂ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑐᖅ ᐱᓇᓱᐊᕈᓯᑦ ᐃᓱᐊᓂ ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᐅᓐᓄᐊᖏᓐᓇᖅ, ᐱᔾᔪᑎᒋᓪᓗᒍ ᓂᐅᕕᖃᑦᑕᕋᑦᑕ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᓂᒃ ᐊᐃᐹᒃᑯᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᕿᑎᖂᑎᒃᑯᑦ. ᑕᐃᒪᓕ ᐋᓂ ᐃᓯᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ᐅᕙᖓ ᑎᒍᕙᒡᖢᒋᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖏᑦ, ᓵᒧᑦ ᒪᑐᐃᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᕿᒥᕈᐊᓕᖅᖢᒋᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐱᐅᔪᒻᒪᕆᐋᓘᔭᕌᖓᑕ, ᑐᓂᕙᒃᖢᒋᑦ ᔫᒥ [ ᑕᒃᐸᐅᖓᐃ], ᐅᓇᓗ
ᐃᑲᔪᖅᑎ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᕕᖕᒥ ᐊᐅᓚᑦᓯᔨᖓᑕ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᑭᒃᓴᖓᓂᒃ ᐃᓱᒪᓕᐅᕆᓕᖅᐸᒃᑐᒍᑦ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ ᒪᓕᒡᖢᒍ,” ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᓕᑦᓯ. “ᒪᕐᕉᒃ ᐱᖓᓱᓪᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᑎᑎᖅᑐᒐᕐᕕᖕᒥ ᑕᑯᓯᒪᔭᒃᓴᕆᔭᖏᑦ. ᐃᓕᔭᐅᖃᑦᑕᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᒧᔫᕐᒧᑦ, ᐴᖅᑕᐅᒋᓪᓗᓂ ᐃᒧᔭᐅᓪᓗᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᐅᓪᓚᖅᑎᑕᐅᕗᖅ. ᐅᑎᖅᐸᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ. ᑕᒪᕐᒥᑦᑎᐊᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᐅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᐊᐅᓪᓚᖅᑎᑕᐅᓂᑯᑦ ᐅᑎᓚᐅᖅᓯᒪᓐᖏᑦᑐᑦ ᓄᓇᓕᖕᓄᑦ.” ᐅᖃᐅᓯᒃᓴᐅᒋᕗᖅ ᐊᓯᐊᒍᑦ ᐅᒡᕙᓘᓐᓃᑦ ᐋᕿᒃᓯᒪᓂᖓᑦ, ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᐊᐃᕙᐅᑎᒋᕚ ᐅᓇ
ᐳᑐᒎᖅ ᑕᑯᑎᑦᑎᔪᖅ ᐃᒃᐱᒋᔭᐅᔪᖅ ᐃᓱᒪᖅᓱᕈᓐᓇᕐᓂᖅ ᑕᒪᓐᓇᓗ ᐊᑐᖅᑕᐅᖁᓚᖕᐅᖅᑕᖓ. “ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᓲᕐᓗ ᐃᓱᒪᖅᓱᕈᓐᓇᕐᓂᖅ ᖃᓄᐃᖂᔨᔪᓐᓃᖅᖢᓂ ᐋᕿᒃᖢᓂ,” ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᐅᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, “ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᑯᔪᓐᓇᖅᑕᐃᑦ ᑖᓐᓇ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇᐅᑎᑦᑎᓪᓗᓂ.”
ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᑦ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ. ᐅᕙᒍᑦ, ᑕᑯᓪᓗᑕ, ᐅᓂᒃᑳᕈᓐᓇᖅᑐᒍᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᓴᓇᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ. ᑭᓇᑐᐃᓐᓇᒥᒃ ᐊᓯᐊᓂᒃ ᑕᐃᒪᓐᓇ ᐳᐃᒍᓇᖅᑐᖅᑕᖃᓐᖏᑎᒋᔪᖅ ᓲᕐᓗ ᐋᕿᑦᑎᐊᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᔭᖃᒧᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑐᑭᓯᔭᑦᑎᒍᑦ ᓴᓇᔭᖏᓐᓂᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᒃᑐᐃᑎᑦᑎᓂᖏᑦ ᓇᓗᓇᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐊᓯᖏᓐᓄᑦ ᓴᖑᓛᕐᒥᔪᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᓯᑦᔨᕈᒫᖅᑐᑦ ᖃᖓᐅᓕᖅᐸᑦ. ᑕᒪᑐᒪᓂ ᐅᑭᐅᒥ, ᓇᓗᓇᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐊᒥᓱᓂᒃ ᐱᕕᖃᕐᑎᑕᐅᓂᐊᖅᑐᑦ ᑕᑯᔪᓐᓇᕐᓗᑎᒃ ᓄᑖᒥᒃ ᖃᐅᒪᓂᕐᒥᒃ: ᐊᓯᖏᑦᑕᐅᖅ ᓴᕿᔮᕐᑎᑦᑎᔪᑦ, ᑲᒪᔨᐅᔪᖅ ᑭᑎ ᓯᑳᑦ ᐃᓚᓕᐅᑎᓯᒪᔭᖓ ᑕᒪᓐᓇ 2018 ᓕᕗᐴ ᒪᕐᕉᒃ ᐅᑭᐅᒃ ᒪᕐᕉᒃ. ᓂᕆᐅᒃᑐᒍᑦ, ᐅᑯᐊ ᑐᑭᓯᔪᑎᒋᓗᒋᑦ ᐊᑑᑎᖃᕐᓗᑎᒃ ᐊᖕᖏᔫᖕᒪᑕ ᐊᑐᖅᓯᒪᔭᖏᑦ
ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᓇᓗᓇᐃᔭᑦᑎᐊᖅᓯᒪᒋᓪᓗᓂᒋᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᑕᖏᓐᓂ. ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᖢᒍ ᐃᓅᓯᕆᓚᐅᖅᑕᑯᓗᐊᓂᒃ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᖅᓯᒪᔪᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑎᐅᑉ ᐊᓈᓇᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐊᓈᓇᑦᑎᐊᓂ, ᐃᒃᐱᖕᒋᓚᐅᖅᑐᖓ ᑎᑎᕋᖅᑕᖓᓂᑦ ᐄᐳ ᐅᖃᓕᒫᒐᕐᒥᓂ: “ᐋᒍᓯ 1971-ᒥ, ᐊᓂᒍᖅᓯᒪᓕᖅᑎᓪᓗᒍ
ᐊᕐᕋᒎᔪᖅ ᐃᑳᖅᓱᒪᓕᖅᑎᑦᓗᒍ ᐅᑯᐊᓗ ᐋᕿᐅᑎᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓛᖅ: ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᑦ ᐅᕙᖓ ᐃᓅᓯᖓᓂᑦ. ᑕᑯᑎᑦᑎᔪᓐᓇᓚᐅᖅᑐᖓ ᐱᓪᓲᐅᓛᖅ ᓯᕗᓪᓕᖅᐹᖓᓂᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᖅᑕᕗᑦ ᐅᖃᓕᒫᒐᖅ. ᑕᐃᒪᓗ ᐃᕐᖑᑕᓂ ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᑐᑦ, ᒪᒃᐱᖃᑦᑕᓚᐅᖅᑕᖏᑦ ᐊᑕᐅᓯᐅᑦᑕᖅᖢᒋᑦ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑕᐃᒪ, ᐊᐱᕆᒐᒃᑯ ᖃᓄᖅ ᐃᓱᒪᖕᒪᖔᑦ, ᐃᑲᔪᖅᖢᓂ ᑐᓵᔨᒋᔭᕋ ᐅᖃᓚᐅᖅᑐᖅ, ‘ᑕᒪᓐᓇ ᑲᖑᓲᑎᒋᓂᐊᓐᖏᑕᕋ.” ᑕᑯᖕᖑᐊᖅᖢᒍ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ ᑕᒪᔾᔭᐅᖕᒪᑕ
ᐊᒥᓱᑦ ᐃᕐᖑᑕᖏᑦ, ᑕᑯᓐᓇᖅᑐᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᖓᓂᒃ ᓴᕿᔮᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᔾᔨᖑᐊᑎᒍᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐅᖃᖅᓯᒪᔪᖏᑦᑎᒍᑦ, ᑐᑭᓯᔪᖓ ᑕᒪᓐᓇ ᑲᖕᖑᓇᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᐅᖃᐅᓯᕆᓗᒍ ᐃᒡᕕᑦ ᐃᓅᓯᕐᓂᒃ ᐅᓂᒃᑳᑦ. ᐃᒻᒪᖄ, ᐃᓂᖃᓕᑕᐃᓐᓇᖅᑐᒍᑦ ᓈᓚᒍᓐᓇᖅᓯᓪᓗᑕ ᑕᒪᒃᑭᖅᖢᒋᑦ ᐳᑐᒎᑉ ᑕᑯᔭᒥᓂᒃ ᑕᑯᖁᔭᒥᓂᒃᑕᐅᖅ ᐅᕙᑦᑎᓄᑦ.
No artistic legacy is set in stone, and our understanding of her work and its impact will inevitably shift and change over time. —
Annie Pootoogook (1969–2016 Kinngait) — PREVIOUS SPREAD Composition(Hand with Praying Figure) 2006Coloured pencil 50.8 × 66 cm ALL IMAGES REPRODUCED WITH PERMISSION DORSET FINE ARTS ALL IMAGES COURTESY FEHELEY FINE ARTS Composition (Evil Spirit) 2004Coloured pencil and ink 50.8 × 66 cm—ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ (ᐱᐅᓐᖏᑦᑐᖅ ᑑᕐᓐᖓᖅ) 2004ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᓄᑦ50.8 × 66 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ ᐊᓂ ᐳᑐᒍᖅ (1969–2016 ᑭᓐᖓᐃᑦ) — PREVIOUS SPREADᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ(ᐊᒡᒐᒃ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᑐᒃᓯᐊᖅᑐᖅ ᐊᔾᔨᖓ)2006ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ 50.8 × 66 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᐊᔾᔨᑦ ᑕᒡᕙᓂ ᑐᓂᔭᖏᑦ ᕕᕼᐃᓕ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᓯᒪᔪᕆᔨᒃᑯᑦ ᑕᒪᕐᒥᒃ ᓴᕿᑎᑕᐅᑲᓐᓂᖅᑐᑦ ᐊᖕᖏᖅᑕᓪᓗᑎᒃ ᑭᓐᖕᒐᐃᑦ ᓴᓇᖕᖑᐊᖅᑐᓕᕆᔨᒃᑯᓂᑦ
Fish on Floor in Kitchen 2001–2Coloured pencil and ink 50.8 × 66 cm ᐃᖃᓗᒃ ᓇᑎᖓᓂ ᐃᒐᕕᒃ 2001–2ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᓄᑦ50.8 × 66 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ
Composition (Sadness and Relief for My Brother) 2006Coloured pencil and ink 55.9 × 76.2 cm—ᑎᑎᕋᐅᔭᖅᓯᒪᔪᖅ (ᓄᒫᓱᒃᑐᖅ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᖃᓄᐃᒐᓂ ᐊᓂᒥᓄᒃ) 2006ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᓄᑦ55.9 × 76.2 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ
Annie and Pitseolak 2003Coloured pencil and ink 50.8 × 66 cm—ᐊᓂ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐱᑦᓯᐅᓚᖅ 2003ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᓄᑦ50.8 × 66 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ
Glasses, Pen, Pencil, and Eraser 2006Coloured pencil and ink 50.8 × 66 cm ᐃᔭᐅᑏᒃ, ᐃᒪᓕᒃ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎ, ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎ, ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐲᔭᐅᑎ2006ᑲᓚᖃᖅᑐᖅ ᑎᑎᕋᐅᑎᓄᑦ ᐊᒻᒪᓗ ᐃᒪᖃᖅᑐᓄᑦ50.8 × 66 ᓯᓐᑕᒦᑕᔅ