ᑕᑯᒃᓴᐅᔪᒻᒪᕆᒃ Double Vision
Nanaimo Art Gallery, British Columbia
July 13–September 15, 2024

by Melinda Kachina Bige

ᑕᑯᒃᓴᐅᔪᒻᒪᕆᒃ Double Vision is a touring, multigenerational art exhibition that features the art of three dynamic women artists from Qamani’tuaq (Baker Lake), NU: Jessie Oonark (1906–1985) and two of her daughters, Janet Kigusiuq (1926–2005) and Victoria Mamnguqsualuk (1930–2016). I saw the exhibition at the Nanaimo Art Gallery, situated on the land of the Snuneymuxw people in so-called British Columbia. Upon entering, I was greeted by a territorial acknowledgement by Elder Gary Manson in hul’q’umin’um, the language of the Snuneymuxw, displayed as wall text. Throughout the quiet of the space, the echoes of hul’q’umin’um words layered blankets of positionality around me. Walking through, I moved from the language of the immediate land and place to Inuktitut, the language of the artists, carefully placed first before the English text. I quickly got a sense that Indigenous Peoples are prioritized and respected in this space.                              

There, three powerhouse artists shared their visions through dynamic textiles, collage, drawings and prints. Oonark’s print Woman (1983) greeted me immediately. The figure in this stonecut and stencil print is shaped by black outlines and details, a yellow body and a navy blue parka. Elsewhere, Mamnguqsualuk’s work was influenced by her Grandmother Natak’s stories. Her textile piece The Woman with Too Many Children (2001) made me laugh, as I can relate to the gestures and busy activities depicted in the appliqué. A truly universal mother’s moment. 

Janet Kigusiuq’s colourful collages were among the most striking aspects of the exhibition as her enthrallment with the “in-between time” of morning and night blessed her artistic vision. Her representation of Kitikat, NU, where her family camped, came through in the colour; I could easily sense Kigusiuq’s feelings of awe and hope while being on the land. Kigusiuq and her art serve as a powerful vessel for generational knowledge transmission, while the multigenerational aspect of the show made this a must-see exhibition for me. 

Melinda Kachina Bige is a Nehiyaw, Dene ts’ekwi from the Denesuline lands of Lutsel K’e, NT. She is former Chair of Kwantlen Polytechnic University’s (KPU) Indigenous Studies department, where she created new curriculum and programming. Bige also spearheaded the online journal Octopus Spirit, which showcases work by emerging Indigenous academics and artists. Bige is now Associate Dean of the Faculty of Arts at KPU.


Installation view of Aatooq (Full of Blood) (2021) at the Image Centre, Toronto, ON, 2024.PHOTO CLIFTON LI/THE IMAGE CENTRE

Aatooq (Full of Blood) (2021)The Image Centre, Toronto Metropolitan University, Toronto, ON (co-presented with the Toronto Biennale of Art)
September 11–December 7, 2024 

by Luis Jacob 

As I watched the video Aatooq (Full of Blood) (2021) at the Image Centre in Toronto, ON, made by the performance art band Ikumagialiit ᐃᑯᒪᒋᐊᓖᑦ (those that need fire), I saw red. Lots of it.  

Watching the video in the gallery’s darkened space, red blood flows on stones that are also red. Red hands wash themselves in red water. Red streams circulate under red ice. The world in this video is a blood-red world. A voice speaking in Kalaallisut, the language of Kalalallit Nunaat, tells a story. “The beginning of blood,” says the voice, “is the river source. Water becomes blood inside our bodies.”

I am struck by a troubling thought. Canadian society, so bloody in its practices—from mercury poisoning at Asubpeeschoseewagong (Grassy Narrows) First Nation to sales of weapons deployed on Palestinian people—recoils at the mere sight of blood. It feels as though Canadians accept this bloodletting but simply don’t want to see it.

Aatooq shows it. As Ikumagialiit artist Laakkuluk Williamson Bathory explains on a recording made for the Toronto Biennial of Art, the work is “a celebration of the spirit of blood—how we create it, consume and emit it.” [1] The “we” in this statement is generic, but I suspect it is also specific, referring to fellow members Cris Derksen, Jamie Griffiths and Christine Tootoo. We all create, consume and emit blood.

“The entirety of my body inside,” continues the voice in Aatooq, “is red. I now realize that even the land has blood. Like the melting of the sea ice.” Aatooq reminds me that red is the colour that reveals itself when we close our eyes. Red is the colour of animal life, coursing deep within us. Red is beautiful. Red is the colour that whitewashing wishes to disown. And red is what remains to be seen.

Luis Jacob is a Peruvian-born artist now based in Toronto, ON. 


Installation view of Ilagiit/Relatives, FOFA Gallery at Concordia University, Montreal, QC, 2024. COURTESY FOFA GALLERY PHOTO LAURENCE POIRIER

Ilagiit/Relatives
FOFA Gallery at Concordia University, Montreal, QC
September 30–December 3, 2024

by Charissa von Harringa

Relations—to land, memory and loved ones—pulse through Ilagiit/Relatives, an exhibition of contemporary circumpolar Inuit art curated by Heather Igloliorte and Taqralik Partridge. [2] A striking exterior vitrine showcases a series of vibrant amautiit set against Nancy Mike’s Paunnakuluit (2024), a hand-painted backdrop alive with arctic fireweed and berries, capturing  the vitality of a living tundra. Each amauti unfolds a story of connection, weaving together beauty and fashion with political consciousness, activism and personal life.

Garments carry stories and knowledge that evolve across generations. Kablusiak transforms IKEA curtains and vintage bedsheets into seasonal atikłuit, that express self-identity and the changing rhythms of nature. The Red Amautiit Project’s embroidered pieces stand as enduring symbols of memory and justice for missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls and gender-diverse relations. Julie Grenier and Victoria Okpik assert Inuit political presence through their dress and jacket designs for Governor General Mary Simon, while Augatnaaq Eccles’s amauti Piuguqtaililavut (Let us not forget) (2024) is a layered tribute to her grandmother and Inuit tuberculosis history. [3]

Inside the gallery, photography and video deepen these connections. Inuuteq Storch’s photo series Keepers of the Ocean (2019) captures candid, unguarded moments with family and friends, while Robert Kautuk’s aerial photographs express the poetry of land and sea. In a darkened alcove, Tanya Lukin Linklater’s video piece An amplification through many minds (2019) gives voice to Alutiiq and Unangan ancestral belongings, mirroring how amautiit carry stories. Her words—“It takes a lifetime to be at home with these materials”— transform objects into living vessels of memory, resilience and presence.

Ilagiit/Relatives powerfully affirms the diversity of Inuit identities and creative visions, underscoring their relevance for both present and future generations. As a centerpiece of the November 2024 ᕿᓐᓂᕋᔮᑦᑐᖅ Qinnirajaattuq / Ripples symposium, it marks a defining moment that encourages viewers to engage with deeply personal narratives rather than broad identity constructs.

Charissa von Harringa, Managing Editor of the Arctic Arts Summit Platform at the Inuit Art Foundation, has over a decade of experience in circumpolar art and exhibitionary practices, having co-curated Among All These Tundras (2018–2020) and co-edited Arctic Prisms: Contemporary Arts from Across Inuit Nunaat and Sápmi (2024).