excerpt
The Dream of Nunavut
Back in Toronto, he pondered the persistent problem of disseminating
his Arctic message – and he recalled his insight on the morning his alarm
clock woke him – and he suddenly realized that all news was numbers.
I’d learned that in North America everything is quantified. Everything is
numbers. That’s how people talk to each other. So never mind talking about
art – never mind talking about politics. Let’s see what happens if we think
about all of this just in terms of numbers. So, given that everything has to
be bigger and bigger – like the Reichmann venture that I knew in my guts
was going to happen – then after that huge painting, then what? Where do
I go then?
I let my mind wander, and I didn’t try to rein it in. Quantification – a
giant painting – super giant! No – super, super giant! How about on the
scale of the Sistine Chapel ceiling? Yes, that was right. And what would it be
of? Well, a portrait of the Arctic. How about a portrait of the Northwest Passage?
The arrogance of Europeans, who wouldn’t even stop for two minutes
to question the people who built the Inuksuit – people who would have told
them where to find the passage – those Europeans who had to go and find
it all by themselves. They didn’t wear fur clothes and they weren’t savages
so they must have been superior, yet they all killed themselves – a cost of so
many lives and huge sums of money and they didn’t find the Northwest Passage.
Okay – portrait of the Northwest Passage. And yes – a portrait – that’s
what it would be. For the Inuit, the land is mother and the sky is father, so,
I am painting a portrait of the mother and the father. And, of course, the
people in the south will say, “No, it’s a landscape!” and we can get into a rhubarb
about it, and I can use that and point out they’re goddammed ignorant.
They don’t even know the reason behind this painting, where it comes from
or on whose behalf it’s being painted. I could see all sorts of things taking
shape here.
Where would it go? Obviously it would be too big to sell, and there would
be no point putting it in a church because there was no church big enough.
Besides, no one goes to church anymore. Where to put it? People aren’t religious.
Where do people go? Wait! Canadians are religious! Hockey is their
religion! Hockey arenas are right across the country.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 