Artist Known: Revitalizing Mi’kmaw Porcupine Quillwork
Images courtesy of Cheryl Simon
Over the past 15 years, Mi’kmaw porcupine quill art has been undergoing a revitalization in Epekwitk (1), resulting in a thriving community of quill artists. This article will explore how the spread of the traditional artform has affected artists, the community, and more importantly, autonomy of Mi’kmaq art.
Building Community
In the mid-2000s, porcupine quillwork was being practiced by a small number of artists spread across Mi’kma’ki but none were located in Epekwitk. As a result, while quill art was highly valued and recognized as a rich component of Mi’kmaw culture by Epekwitnewaq (2), it had been many generations since it had been created. This stood in stark contrast to black ash splint basketry, which had been widely created by families up until the 1990s. There is hard work involved with basketry, but the community component ensured that there was also much laughter, teasing and joking to lessen the workload. There are stories about how older family members would watch a young person make a mistake and patiently wait for them to realize it themselves, thereby instilling the lesson far more effectively than if the person had merely been told what to do. Baskets were often made with every family member having a role, with children being expected to watch their Elders and learn by observation what other stages of basketry would entail. Knowing how basketry was made intergenerationally, the pedagogies utilized, and having contemporary access to Mi’kmaw quill artists, provided an example of how quillwork could be revitalized on Epekwitk.
It was a long process to access the necessary knowledge for quillwork. As one of the early quillers in contemporary Epekwitk, I can attest to the many years spent learning about each of the materials for the insertion technique. Porcupine quillwork requires bark from maskwi, roots from kawatkw, quills from matues, and weljemajgewe’l (3). Teachings for each raw material were needed before harvesting could even be contemplated. Knowledge keepers were incredibly generous; Mi’kmaw teachings respect the collective nature of the information, and everyone should be given the opportunity to learn. This approach is balanced by the need to watch how the teachings are received because if they are disrespected, there may be no more information forthcoming. This in-person knowledge transfer was supplemented by archival research and travel to museums to view rarely seen collections, along with invitations to view private collections of quillwork as word spread. It became apparent that such information was required to be verified by Mi’kmaw knowledge keepers to peel away the Euro-centric perspectives that often led to cultural misunderstandings being documented as fact. As knowledge was being passed on, tentative pieces of quillwork were made, but it was a solitary and lonely endeavour. Mi’kmaw quillwork, like basketry, requires community to flourish.
It has been almost ten years since my cousin, followed shortly after by another group of three, joined me as apprentices to share knowledge and a love of quillwork. Since then, more quillers on Epekwitk have reached the stage where they are able to create, design and teach. More cousins have discovered skill sets at which they excel, such as root splitting or quill plucking; youth have been hired and Elders have proudly watched the flourishing community of quillers. Once more, children are being taught quillwork in stages as their dexterity and skills grow. Epekwitk is now home to a thriving community of quillworkers, with intergenerational family members supporting and working together.
Autonomy over Mi’kmaw Art
The next issue was learning how to maneuver through the art world. Mi’kmaw art, like that of all Indigenous nations, is complex. The objects that we make can reflect cultural values, be sacred due to ceremonial roles, reflect international agreements, have animacy, fulfill community or familial obligations, help to heal, be held collectively or individually or simply be made to be aesthetically pleasing. The issue is that autonomy over Mi’kmaw art was stripped away by colonization and would need to be revitalized to prevent the artform from becoming romanticized or frozen in time.
Early quillwork on baskets and storage containers utilized seemingly simple but technically difficult designs; but this changed throughout the nineteenth century to reflect the influence of European embroidery. Quillwork shifted from items used by Mi’kmaw to trade goods such as calling card cases, panels for chair backs and seats, and other curios deemed pleasing to settlers. Mi’kmaw artists were often, by economic necessity, required to bend to market forces on design and price. The result was an artform that did not evolve through organic processes, but via commodification and external forces.
Quillwork was imported and collected by Europeans and while the desire to collect Mi’kmaw quillwork could be viewed as a recognition of Mi’kmaw artistry, the low prices and lack of provenance would suggest a disregard for the Mi’kmaw as artists. If ever there was an Mi’kmaw quiller named “Unknown,” they would be the most prolific of those who came before, based on existing provenance.
The revitalization of quill art on Epekwitk is changing how quillwork is being viewed. Prominent artists are now exhibiting in both fine art and craft museums around the world. Indigenous curators are now poised to assist with accurate representation of the relationships and cultural knowledge reflected in the pieces. Mi’kmaw artists finally have the luxury to push boundaries, make political statements, heal from trauma, and express who we are as contemporary artists. As we move forward as artists, we demand that room be made for our work, transcending traditional classification and assumptions of art as inanimate objects well-suited for preservation into perpetuity. Mi’kmaw quill artists are creating pieces that reflect tradition with its distinct mirroring and geometric designs, but in a manner that reflect contemporary realities of artists who are truly “known.”
(1) The Mi’kmaw have called the island Epekwitk for thousands of years; it is now more commonly referred to by its settler name, Prince Edward Island.
(2) Mi’kmaw people living on the island of Epekwitk.
(3) White birch, black spruce, porcupine and sweetgrass.
