There is a coat I visit. I can not buy it, or wear it, just look. Most years it sits in a drawer in the Yellowknife Museum. Occasionally, the curator brings it out for native people to look at, or for visitors like me. Initially, in early years, I was not allowed to touch it, or even breath in its direction. Since the coat was thought to be a sacred item, a shaman’s coat, I could never take a photograph. Recently the understanding of the interpretation of the coat has evolved. It was made by Helen Kalzak, not for ceremony, but as a commission for a collector. She was a dynamic woman. Her stitching is exquisite, and the coat weighs next to nothing. The coat I so admire is made from the skins of the Common Loon. My totem bird is a loon. Growing up in New England, I believed the Common Loon was the only loon, but there are five varieties: Red-throated, Pacific, Common, Yellow-billed, and Arctic. You can find all five in the north. They are members of the genus Gavia. They fish. Their feet are placed far back on their body, making them awkward on land, but they transform in water to majestic, powerful swimmers. They are the oldest bird. They can stay submerged multiple minutes. They yelp taking their last breath before a dive. Thirty five years ago I painted the canoe Denny Alsop made white on top and black on the bottom, and called it Loon.
For over thirty years, I’ve visited the coat. It is an exquisite metaphor for what the tundra holds in its invisible hands. I feel the connection to the people who called the tundra their home. For thousands of years, in a difficult landscape, especially in winter, the Inuit loved, lived and created an admirable culture. What they made was beautiful. Unlike our culture, they considered art a fundamental value. If it wasn’t beautiful, it wouldn’t function. The clothes, tools, fishhooks, weapons, paddles and kayaks, were made artfully. Where the Inuit considered art a necessity, our schools cut art programs first. As I was, children are told to be practical. A career in the arts isn’t practical. Where is the ‘progress’ in our outlook?
I can not go underwater, but I’ve often watched a loon surface with a fish held sideways in her bill. Then watched as she juggles it around to swallow headfirst. How do they catch a fish? How do they thrive underwater? I can not go there, but I can imagine.
