Whether an Inuit Artist lives in a small Arctic community or in a large urban center, he or she is acutely aware of the demands of the marketplace. For the most part, collectors of Inuit art have sought to acquire graphic works that present charming representations of Arctic wildlife and depictions of life as it was once lived on the land. In terms of three dimensional art, sculptures of a mother with her child, hunters, various Arctic animals and, of course, dancing bears remain popular. However, a number of artists have challenged assumptions about Inuit art, among them Kananginak Pootoogook, Napachie Pootoogook, Annie Pootoogook, Nick Sikkuark, and, of course, Shuvinai Ashoona who opened the floodgates for unconventional imagery. A vein of iconoclasm and Surrealism has always run through modern Inuit art from its beginnings in 1949. Over the years artists were repeatedly told, “Draw whatever comes to mind” and many of the artist did just that, producing eerily dreamlike works that have come to be known as the Inuit Surreal. Kenojuak Ashevak, her husband Johnniebo Ashevak, and Pitseolak Ashoona all created such works. A number of contemporary Inuit artists have taken up the mantle of innovation and are creating art the likes of which collectors have never seen before and they are acquiring even the wildest of these works. Much credit for expanding the idea of what constitutes Inuit art goes to Pat Feheley, owner of Feheley Fine Arts in Toronto, who has been a champion both of more traditional artists and those who are highly experimental while continually educating collectors. Four of the most innovative contemporary Inuit artists are Shuvinai Ashoona, Ningiukulu Teevee, Pitsiulaq Qimirpik, and Gayle Uyagaqi Kabloona.
When I Drew Out Came the Snake by Shuvinai Ashoona, Inuit, Kinngait (Cape Dorset), etching and hand coloring, ed. 8/8, 37” x 48” (2019). Collection of E. J. Guarino. Image courtesy of Feheley Fine Arts, Toronto, and Dorset Fine Arts, Toronto.
Shuvinai Ashoona’s title for her hand colored etching When I Drew Out Came the Snake more or less sums up her artistic process. One never knows what Shuvinai will create. Her work is a constant surprise. For a long while most collectors of Inuit prints and drawings didn’t quite know what to make of her often idiosyncratic output, which is often populated with strange creatures, multiple versions of planet Earth, an obsessive attention to detail, and landscapes that, at first glance, appear to be faithful renderings of nature, but turn out to be anything but that. By juxtaposing the familiar with the bizarre Shuvinai has staked out a territory that is all her own. Her art creates a disturbing sense of disorientation in the viewer, which gives much of her work a surrealistic quality. Often, Shuvinai creates fantastical landscapes that seem to have emerged from the mind of Rube Goldberg, but much of her work is filled with her unique brand of humor and peculiar symbols that clearly mean something to the artist, but often defy interpretation. Such is the case with When I Drew Out Came the Snake. What it means is anybody’s guess, but maybe that is not important. It is simply a work that is marvelous to behold and ponder. The drawings and prints Shuvinai creates are mysterious, strange, and filled with personal symbolism. She has opened the door for other Cape Dorset artists to create anything that comes to mind.
Imaginary Thought by Ningiukulu Teevee, Inuit, Kinngait (Cape Dorset), Ed. 15/50, etching & chine collé, Paper: Velin d’Arches White & Thai Unryu; Printer: Studio PM, 27.5” x 22.5” (2023). #31 in the Annual Cape Dorset Print Collection. Collection of E. J. Guarino. Image courtesy of Dorset Fine Arts, Toronto, and Arctic Artistry Gallery, Chappaqua, NY.
Known for her strong visual style, her powerful use of color, and her distinctive sense of humor, as well as her talent for presenting traditional aspects of Inuit culture in a unique way, Ningiukulu Teevee has become one of Cape Dorset’s most respected artists. Hers is a decidedly contemporary sensibility and there is no other Inuit graphic artist who produces imagery quite like Ningiukulu Teevee. Her work is imaginative, frequently whimsical, and often contains sly visual jokes. She is familiar with Inuit oral tradition and characters from these stories and, as a result, Sedna, Raven, Fox, Owl, and Loon, often appear in her work, though usually with a humorous or modern slant. Her imagery is always unique and unconventional.
Teevee’s Imaginary Thought immediately brings to mind the work of Pablo Picasso. Can the print be said to be Picassoesque? That, of course, is a matter of opinion. In the past, such a work might have been explained as a “transformation.” Though that might in someway have been part of the artist’s intent, viewers may never know for sure. The title may give us some insight since it contains the word imaginary. The artist may be referencing her own flights of fancy that inspire what she creates.
The graphics in Imaginary Thought are generated through line and color. A simple black line delineates a bear and, what appears to be, a female form expelling something from her mouth. This imagery is supported by the use of four muted colors: green, orange, pink and black. Since the artist’s intentions are intentionally ambiguous, the print takes on a mysterious quality, which is often the case with Ningiukulu Teevee’s work.
Sedna’s Parade by Pitsiulaq Qimirpik, Inuit, Kinngait (Cape Dorset), Ed. 3/50, lithograph, Paper: BFK Rives White; Printer: Niveaksie Quvianaqtuliaq, 15” x 20.5” (2023). #18 in the Annual Cape Dorset Print Collection. Collection of E. J. Guarino. Image courtesy of Dorset Fine Arts, Toronto, and Arctic Artistry Gallery, Chappaqua, NY.
Pitsiulaq (also spelled Pitseolak) Qimirpik is one of Cape Dorset’s most iconoclastic and innovative younger artists. He produces sculpture, drawings, and prints all of which can best be described as “wild” because they push boundaries in new and exciting ways. The choice of his subjects and how he presents them is nothing less than a radical shift in Inuit art. Pitseolak Qimirpik’s sculpture encompasses a diverse range of subjects such as the expected Arctic animals including owls, eagles, muskoxen, bears, walruses, and narwals, but he has also carved dancing rabbits he refers to as Hip Hop Hares, as well as transformation pieces, devils, human figures, erotic works, and the Simpsons.
As for Qimirpik’s works on paper they are filled with bold colors, often best described as being electric, and his use of line is uninhibited, frenetic, and visually arresting. His prints and drawings are inhabited by creatures that are half-human and half-animal, imaginary insects, the animated TV characters the Simpsons, and sometimes even the Simpsons as part human and part plant. His work redefines the term surreal and must be seen to be believed.
One of the artist’s most striking prints is Sedna’s Parade. It is not the first time that Pitseolak Qimirpik has featured the Inuit goddess in his work, but it is one of the strangest representations of her in all of Inuit art.
Sedna is one of the many interesting beings in the Inuit cosmos. She is the goddess of the sea and marine animals. Also known by a number of other names such as Taleelayo (The One Down on the Sea Bottom) and Nuliajuk (Mother of All Beasts), she is one of the most important figures in Inuit culture. Part woman, part fish, she most resembles a mermaid. It is Sedna who controls the bounty of the sea, and if angered, she can be extremely vengeful, withholding the fish and sea mammals upon which the Inuit rely. It is Sedna who decides whether humans eat or starve. Contemporary Inuit artists generally present the goddess as more playful than vindictive and sometimes she is even portrayed as vain.
Pitseolak Qimirpik presents Sedna as a weird, multicolored creature that, except for a fish-like tale, in no way resembles the usual representations of this mythical being. Surrounding the goddess is equally eccentric imagery: a fish, a long-necked creature with wings for ears, what appears to be a bear, and a pair of legs, which the viewer is left wondering to whom they belong. One leg definitely appears similar to the two attached to Sedna, but to whom the other limb belongs is anybody’s guess. Behind Sedna are what might be a whale and two figures that look like demented teddy bears, one of which has what looks like a marine animal’s tail. Seemingly emanating from Sedna’s scaly tail are two heads. Odd though the imagery is, Sedna’s Parade is a delightful take on a subject that has been done to death by a plethora of artists.
ILAKKA III by Gayle Uyagaqi Kabloona, Inuit, clay, underglaze, glaze, 4 1/2” x 9” x 8” (2023). Collection of E. J. Guarino. Image courtesy of Feheley Fine Arts, Toronto.
Most people, including collectors, generally do not associate ceramics with Inuit art. This might be because the only Inuit community that ever produced ceramic works was Kangiqliniq (Rankin Inlet). Unfortunately, the government-run program, which had begun in 1963 was abandoned fourteen years later in 1977 due to of lack of funding. However, Gayle Uyagaqi Kabloona, an Inuit artist living in Ottawa, has recently been creating ceramic art. In addition to working in clay, Kabloona is a multidisciplinary artist who works in a variety of media – prints, posters, knitting, crocheting, and large scale textile works.
Kabloona’s art is inspired by that of her grandmother, Victoria Mamnguqsualuk, and her great-grandmother, Jessie Oonark, both important artists from Baker Lake, Nunavut. In addition to the work of her grandmother and great-grandmother, Kabloona’s artistic output is influenced by historical Inuit prints, particularly those from the 1970s.
The artist also became intrigued by the stylized faces in the prints of Luke Angulhadluq, her grandmother’s cousin. Although she was familiar with female Inuit faces created by her grandmother and great-grandmother, the simplicity of the masculine faces Angulhadluq produced was something new and fascinating to her. Kabloona quickly became intrigued with these masculine faces and faces have become a recurring motif in her work.
Sometimes Kabloona gives her work titles in Inuktitut, the Inuit language, and sometimes in English, to reflect her Inuit and non-Inuit background. She titled one of her ceramic pieces ILAKKA III. In Inuktitut, Ilakka means “extended family” or “my relatives.” ILAKKA III is unlike most Indigenous ceramic works, which tend to follow recognizable utilitarian forms such as vases, jars, ollas (a large storage or water jar), and seed pots. ILAKKA III resembles none of these. Looking at this work, the viewer instinctively knows that its purpose is other than functional. The intent is for ILAKKA III to project Inuit culture, values, and humor into the future using non-traditional materials. Gayle Uyagaqi Kabloona has put a contemporary spin on traditional Inuit imagery while employing a non-traditional medium.
Shuvina Ashoona, Ningiukulu Teevee, Pitseolak Qimirpik, and Gayle Uyagaqi Kabloona are among the artists helping to liberate Inuit art from what is expected in terms of style, form, subject matter, and media. Not all of what these four artists produce will appeal to all collectors. However, it is exciting to see artists who are willing to experiment and allow their creativity to take them wherever it might lead them.