mend(ing)
mend(ing) is a virtual exhibition curated by Weave and Mend, an Indigenous and Afro-Indigenous femme/enby art queer collective.
To mend is to tend to. It is a process of healing and harnessing energy to restore and renew.
The works presented in this show explore and unpack complexities and dimensions of “care”.
How do we care for self, community, ancestors, and the land?
How are those relationships reciprocal?
How are they interrupted?
How do we practice care in times of crisis?
How do systems of colonialism and capitalism interrupt our abilities to practice and receive care?
How do we care for one another virtually?
We feel it is crucial to create for artists to explore all the intersections, politics, joys and teachings around care during these times of unrest, upheaval, unveiling and change.
To centre care, and foster networks of kinship that extend beyond the physical, into the virtual, and beyond, Weave and Mend presents the following works, created by artists across Turtle Island.
Niá:wen, Miigwetch, Taíno ti!
Medicines by Edan Maxam
'Medicines' is a series of Cyanotypes of sweetgrass, cedar, tobacco, sage and corn. Cyanotypes is one of the earliest methods in photography and plants were the main subject of this medium. Medicines document plants that I personally have a connection and use for healing.
Edan Maxam is a Afro-Indigenous (Afro Cuban, Caymanian and Mi’kmaq) multidisciplinary artist.
She works with analog and historical methods of photography to discuss themes of identity, family history, oral storytelling, healing and activism. Edan is currently completing her BFA in Photography with a Minor in Art and Social Change at OCAD U.
To Niko by Keno Chavez
serving an offering of love to connection(s) within and beyond this life. this film is for my lost brother niko, my aztec ancestors, our spirits, anyone who can experience it.
thank you. thank you. thank you.
Nohkôm and Her Children by Annie Beach
'Nohkôm and Her Children' is a photo installation that took form as part of my first solo-exhibition, Bloodline, a commemorative celebration of the women on my mother’s side of my family. Aunties upon aunties, some members I have never met myself, or was too young to remember. However, I do recognize the sacrifices and efforts these women made, and I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for these women. Through family photographs, the viewer can recognize their own family within them, and feel represented and celebrated. In 'Nohkôm and Her Children', the images specifically share my grandmother, and three of her ten children, including my mother. The digitally edited skin-tone in the photographs suggest “otherness,”
associated with being identified as “redskin,” and how these perceptions feel omnipresent, but temporarily forgotten when surrounded by the love and care of family and loved ones. The poinsettias reference how the Indigenous flower was revered for its red colour, but our skin, our culture, our lives, were not.
Annie Beach is a visual artist, born and based in win-nipi, manitou-wapow, treaty one territory. Beach is Cree/Saulteaux/Ukrainian, with relations from Peguis First Nation and Brokenhead First Nation. She is a
recent graduate with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree (honours) from the University of Manitoba’s School of Art, where she has sat on the School of Fine Art Student Association as Co-President for a number of years. Beach has curated, designed, and executed over a dozen mural projects throughout the city and works as an art instructor with a variety of youth, community arts and cultural-based organizations. Beach is also one of three recipients of the 2019 Hnatyshyn Foundation Emerging Artist prize.
All my love, with a wish to return to a world of gifts by Evelyn Pakinewatik
It is my opinion that memories are more tangible than borders. This is a painting of my best friend's late grandfather. I created it as a gift to my best friend and her family, all of who I had hoped to visit early this year. They are currently located in Upstate New York. My best friend and I are uncertain of when we are going to be able to see each other in person again. This painting is based on a photograph of her grandfather with her mother as a baby, and was intended to emulate the flat magic of a photograph.
Evelyn Pakinewatik is a two-spirit Ojibwe from Nipissing First Nation.
The Father, The Son by Aichoucha
This piece is called “The Father, The Son” and it is a 20x24” oil painting. In this artwork, I talk about care and compassion between a father and son. I chose to focus my attention to the care that children provide to their parents in terms of emotional support and growth. I have entered the stage in my life where my friends are now becoming parents and one thing that I often notice is the fact that most times when people become parents, their maturity level increases. Perhaps it is the idea that they are now responsible for another human being’s life but I see growth in most aspects of their lives. I see that mutual care between parents and children. In the painting we see the baby holding his father’s face in a comforting and loving manner. I wanted to use a more muted colour palette because I wanted to convey calmness and almost stillness in this precious moment.
Aichoucha Haidara is an artist and designer from Timbuktu, Mali. She is currently based in Hamilton, Canada and she uses her skills to create artworks that often carry political meaning. Upon moving to Canada, she discovered her passion for painting with oil and ever since, she has been honing her skills in portrait painting. Her main subject matter is women of African descent and her life experience. She uses those as inspiration to speak on issues that she faces as an immigrant and as a minority. The intention behind her work is to talk about what she notices in her surroundings.
Care by Pree
When the pandemic started, I created a series of prompts titled the Queerantine Art Challenge aka #QueerantineAC and this piece is from March 20th. This day’s prompt was “care”.
As a disabled person, I think a lot about my care networks and how we can be sustainable without over extending ourselves. Self-nourishment is so important! Caring for others is impossible without that, and that’s what this piece is about.
When the pandemic started, I started spending a lot more time on textile arts. With social media and news constantly berating us with COVID-19 related content, embroidery has been a soothing escape because it requires undivided attention. As a way to financially survive, and continue to challenge myself with new imagery, I put out a call for commissions. A community member, reached out to request a lavender patch for their partner! This was an act of care I was delighted to participate in, especially because lavender is a plant I use to ground myself with.
Pree was raised in Tiohtiá:ke/Montreal and went to school in Tkaronto/Toronto. They are a child of immigrant settlers from Punjab. As an artist educator, Pree's work centres the experiences of individuals who are BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and People of Colour). They have an interdisicliplinary arts practice under the name: StickyMangos and they co-founded the Non-Binary Colour Collective. Pree is currently working on two research projects, one about improving services for trans youth, and one about making [art] with place.
quarantine time by Ben
quarantine time is a short experimental film made with blender and adobe premiere pro. it depicts how my days have felt during this lockdown; days full of static, pacing, isolation, substance abuse, and an overall dreaminess. it also express the difficult and repetitive nature of messaging people in order to feel connected. it seems as though there is truly nothing but time.
Anxious by Taylor Jolin
'Anxious' is part of a larger body of work called 'Intimacy'. This image in particular documents a self-comforting gesture.
'Intimacy' is a collection of work that investigates the physiology of emotion and body language, and how common gestures codify communication. The act of looking and perceiving was born of necessity. Humans subconsciously note patterns in behaviour and map faces before ever having the language to describe it. This survival tool can move from requisite into compulsion and begin to amplify loneliness–searching for intimacy and honesty, then criticizing its absence.
Intimacy broadly describes the modality of all relationships. These connections exist on sliding scales and spectrums that encompass both perfunctory and vital interactions. Regulators, illustrators, batons and other self-comforting actions are replicated by subjects through direction or performance and then translated to a final image. Drypoint prints based in staged photographs delineate a clinical blueprint-like approach while leaking covert tenderness that mimic micro-expressions.
Taylor Jolin is an Ojibwe multidisciplinary artist from Sault Ste. Marie, ON. Her work engages with themes of land and place, non-verbal communication, and surveillance-using these elements as a way of contextualizing overarching investigations about intimacy. Jolin received her BFA from Algoma University in 2016 and has exhibited extensively locally and across Ontario. She is currently on the board of directors at 180 Projects, a volunteer-run gallery and experimental project space, and is a core member of the Indigenous Women’s Anti-Violence Taskforce and the Northern Indigenous Artist Alliance.
Soon by Brenna
Touch has always been my expression of care and is an implied part of all my work. Since direct touch is dangerous during the COVID-19 pandemic, I’ve been exploring intermediates and reconnecting with rediscovering models of transmitted touch. The postal service has become a medium to touch through time, imbued in penmanship and embroidery, and received through the intimacy of prying open an envelope and caressing a handwritten letter. As part of their materiality, a standard letter mutates through its handling; stamps are voided, seals are broken, words go from unknown to cherished. As the object is handled, as the touches that made it are wicked from the medium, a letter/zine/embroidery unintentionally disintegrates into a well-loved object, changed through touch the same way touch changes me.
Brenna is a graphic design and multidisciplinary artist from Toronto and currently based in Calgary. Their practice incorporates draglesque, poetry, philately, and embroidery. They use craft to explore identity, belonging, and affections. As a multi-ethnic settler, Bren has been navigating how a sense of inheritance can be cultivated around linguistic barriers, intergenerational trauma, and colonial erasure. Brenna’s first art teachers were their mother and maternal relatives, immigrants from Hong Kong, and sewing continues to be a point of connection between grandchild and grannies. Outside of their artistic practice, Brenna is a designer and photographer in the culture and heritage field. They have appeared in drag shows and cabarets in Calgary.
Sisters Singing by Bert Whitecrow (collective member)
The hand drum I have built and painted empowers me to feel connected to my ancestors and cultural identity as an Anishinaabe Two Spirited person. Drumming allows us to hold space for Indigenous cultural teachings and knowledges and is an act of female/Two Spirited resilience. Women and Two Spirited hand drumming combats gender roles in Indigenous communities that have been imposed upon us by colonialism. As a Two Spirited person, I feel connected to my community when I drum and sing the songs of my people. The two songs I have sung with my sister are the Women’s Warrior Song and the Water (Nibi) Song. The Woman’s Warrior song honours the missing and murdered Indigenous women in Canada and creates awareness around this national genocide. The beat of the drum resembles that of a heart beat, the first sound we hear when we are in our mother’s womb. Drumming requires physical and emotional energy. It can help to bridge the gap between Indigenous and non Indigenous communities by allowing the flow of conversation and action. In relation to past work I’ve created, this drum fosters the same connection to identity, community and healing. The image that I have painted on my drum consists of a Spirit (in the form of a moth) along with blueberries and strawberries. Strawberries are known as the heart berry and are used as traditional medicine.
Braids by Kaya Joan (collective memeber)
Braids is a multi-media project that speaks to relationship to body, intergenerational trauma, healing and blood memory. This project was a way for me to practice several rituals passed down from my ancestors, through my body. Through the creation of this piece, I created space to honour my ancestors, and attempt to heal trauma inflicted by colonial violence.
Taíno Sacred Circle of Xaymaca by Ashley King (collective member)
The sacred circle is the Taíno’s version of the medicine wheel, each colour has a corresponding sacred food (cassava, corn, summer squash, and black beans) and sacred bird (hummingbird, hawk, wild turkey, and owl). I chose to do this collection on terra cotta pots in order to represent the “Redware people” of Xaymaca (circa. 600 AD) whose existence is only recognized because of the pottery they left behind before the arrival of the Taíno’s in 800AD.