ACC Historiographer's Report Final
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Iakwé:iahre (we remember / se remémorer) A Colloquium of the Aboriginal Curatorial Collective October 16 - 18 2014 Concordia University Montréal on the traditional territory of the Kanien’keha:ka Historiographer’s Report by Chris Creighton-Kelly The Limits of History All histories are partial. We, each one of us, are walking-history beings. We walk about with our unique perception of events, physical interactions and intuitions. It is wondrous and humbling to imagine what others imagine, how this differs from our own thoughts and how, when others’ understandings are layered together, we see the paucity of our own perspective. As we walk around the tree together, we begin to see the whole tree. And so it was at: Iakwé:iahre (we remember / se remémorer) a colloquium organized by the Aboriginal Curatorial Collective, on October 16-18, 2014 on the traditional territory of the Kanien’keha:ka. It would be literally impossible to explain everything that happened at this colloquium. Even if that were somehow possible, it would still be filtered through an interpretive lens, through the worldview, politics and values of the speaker/writer. Then, there is the touchy subject of speaking for someone else, of speaking for others. There is a certain indignity in speaking for others. History is littered with the co-optation and appropriation of the voice of individuals, of groups, of peoples. One must be attentive and respectful. So it is the task of the historiographer to listen, to learn and to share their perspective. More accurately, if they are doing their work carefully, multiple perspectives. I approached this document with that in mind, with humility and a hope that my observations may contribute to a continuing dialogue about the ACC and its relationship to an Aboriginal Arts Living Archive. And so to repeat, all histories are partial. Some are more partial than others. Some are so deliberately partial, so as to be lies. As in the fictions that Canadians tell ourselves about how this country was formed. The ‘creation story of Canada’ needs to be re-examined. Iakwé:iahre, with its clear emphasis on remembering, was a small step in re-examining; of telling from Aboriginal points of view; of Indigenizing art history. The colloquium gave voice to stories and practices that approach the idea of an Aboriginal Arts Living Archive rooted in Indigenous lived experience, both past and present. Those lived experiences honour the orality of much Indigenous knowledge transmission, even when there may be no traces of that transmission. This can create a complex problem for an archive! Participants were acutely aware that though they did not have complete answers, their ‘remembering’ would shed light on an ongoing discussion. The colloquium was structured in such a way that encouraged an aggregate, collective methodology. The partial histories did, in the end, add up to something meaningful. Many people felt that they had contributed, that they had a stake in the development of a living archive. Chris Creighton-Kelly Historiographer’s Report !2 Before Anyone Got to Iakwé:iahre The idea of a living archive might, at first glance, seem like a contradiction seen through the anthropological approach of a Western arts lens. After all, an archive - defined by the Oxford dictionary as “ a collection of historical documents...providing information about a place, institution or group of people” - is usually consulted about things, events and persons in the past, all of which are now, at least, metaphorically ‘dead’. How then can an archive be living? Recent attempts in museological theory (less so in practice) to imagine and create a living museum; a new museum; a community-engaged museum; an interactive museum, etc. are usually well-intentioned initiatives designed to make a museum’s archives come alive - to inject ‘life’ into ‘dead’ objects. All this so that visitors will have a more ‘user-centered’ experience. Indigenous people, especially elders, look upon this hubris with bemusement. For most of them, objects have never been dead! In most Aboriginal worldviews - persons, creatures, rocks, rivers, oceans, even some human-made objects - are alive. In addition, they do not die, but rather transform, all the while holding their potent flow of energy. We, humans, are part of this flow. This is not some simplistic, semantic distinction. From it, flows a world of difference. If oceans are alive, then how we treat them is emblematic of our stewardship (or lack of). If creatures are part of this energy flow, then how we kill them or how we eat them suggests an ethical and responsible consideration. If certain human-made objects are alive, then ‘what is sacred and why it is sacred’ establish cultural ways that have profound implications for art making. To an Aboriginal curator the idea of a living archive is not a contradiction. It is not a point of contention, but a point of departure. These curators know that almost all Aboriginal visual artists make some reference to tradition in their work - whether stylistically; whether with reverence for ancestors; whether in choice of materials or even ironically. The important consideration, then, is not should there be an Aboriginal Art Living Archive? Or why do we need it? The question beyond what or why is how. How could Aboriginal curators/artists create one? This raises a whole series of complex questions. Chris Creighton-Kelly Historiographer’s Report !3 For example, as Heather Igloliorte writes: Who is it for, and who has access? Who will preserve and maintain the archive, and where will this be done? How will decisions be made about what is included and what is excluded? Should an online archive of Indigenous art history be open-access, freely available, and inclusive? It has been long-understood by Aboriginal people that not all Aboriginal knowledge should be openly accessible; but does sacred knowledge and other forms of culturally restricted knowledge belong online at all? If we did want to include such material, how would we protect that writing, imagery, or information? What are the Indigenous protocols and methodologies that will apply in cyberspace? How do we ensure that the archive will not only serve a small group of those with specialized knowledge of archives (academics, archivists, researchers and others) but also be useful to anyone with an interest or stake in the production and dissemination of Indigenous art history?...These technical questions take on decolonial, political and social implications and must be considered alongside ‘big picture’ theorizations of the Archive. Igloliorte wrote this in a position paper - commissioned by the ACC - following two 2013 gatherings that led up to Iakwé:iahre - Transmissions: Sharing Indigenous Knowledge and Histories in the Digital Era, that she organized at Concordia University and Residency for the Aboriginal Living Archive organized by the ACC. Igloliorte and her colleague, Sherry Farrell Racette, felt it was important to connect their research to the project being considered by the ACC. The difficult question of sharing what Igloliorte calls ‘culturally restricted knowledge’ especially online, is elaborated in a second position paper - also commissioned by the ACC - written by Guy Sioui Durand: Le maintien vivace de la mémoire est pourtant grandement affaire de respect. Pour plusieurs amérindiens, il y a une grande dimension spirituelle qui sous-tend la conception même d’une archive. Cette remarque a trait à la compréhension distincte entre rituels et oeuvres d’art. Elle est transposable à propos du patrimoine à archiver. Au regard traditionaliste, certaines situations et certains artefacts, bien que de haute teneur artisanale et artistique demeurent vivaces en soi. On ne peut pas les archiver, les conserver et les exposer impunément! Dans certains cas, c’est la limite, dans d’autres ça nécessite des protocoles particuliers. The issues surrounding use of Indigenous objects are complex and contested. They are percolating in many conversations among Aboriginal artists/curators themselves and also with their non-Aboriginal colleagues and allies. Much of this discussion centres on Indigenous protocols - how they may be, on the one hand, respected for their traditional use, and on the other hand, adapted to contemporary understandings of Indigenous cultural objects. Chris Creighton-Kelly Historiographer’s Report !4 Overheard While Sipping Coffee This conversation, paraphrased below, between two Aboriginal artists - one a Francophone, the other an Anglophone - took place in English, as do most ‘bilingual’ conversations in Canada. We (the ACC) have taken an important step at this symposium by trying to bridge the gap between Aboriginal artists who speak English and those who speak French. But French is such a colonial language - the French came to this territory to try to save souls for Catholicism. But, hey, English is also a colonial language! I want Aboriginal people to learn their ancestral languages...but in the meantime, English is the common language that we all speak. Whoa, not true! There are Indigenous people in Québec who do not speak English. Yes, but still we are replicating the Canadian state notion of bilingual country called Canada and that clearly is not true, in fact. Canada is NOT a bilingual country. That is a myth. Yes, that is true, but never mind the Canadian government. The fact is that we are stronger as a pan-Indian force if Francophone and Anglophone Aboriginal people can communicate with one another. OK, that is true. I agree with that. But how does this initiative continue then? What comes next? I am not sure, honestly. We will need to talk about that. Chris Creighton-Kelly Historiographer’s Report !5 So What Happened at Iakwé:iahre in Montréal? Aboriginal artists, curators, administrators came from across the land, from the four directions to gather, to remember, to listen, to discuss and to imagine a living archive.