Margaret Mead Film Festival 2022

<p>Unceded Territories is a provocative interactive VR experience that deals with climate change and indigenous civil rights by bringing audiences into a world formed of&nbsp;Lawrence Paul Yuxweluptun&#39;s iconic art. Are we that different than the pipeline executives sacrificing mother earth for their own wealth? We want you to think about these things, to feel our anger, and to fight for change. &ndash; YUXWELUPTUN</p> <p><em>Unceded Territories</em>&nbsp;is a provocative, interactive VR experience created from Coast Salish artist&nbsp;<strong>Lawrence Paul Yuxweluptun</strong><strong>&rsquo;s</strong>&nbsp;iconic work to engage viewers in an interactive landscape grappling with colonialism, climate change and Indigenous civil rights. The acclaimed Canadian electronic music group&nbsp;<strong>The Halluci Nation&nbsp;</strong>composed the original score.&nbsp;</p>

<p>Just before her passing the elder Ida Smith was recorded telling the &lsquo;Nakwaxda&rsquo;xw myth Məca. Over a decade later the myth comes to life as a stop animation film. In the myth, Məca must go on a journey of love and heartbreak to find his way back to his own authenticity.</p>

<p>A quirky animation in Tlingit, created with hand made puppets dancing to a catchy drum beat.</p>

<p>In&nbsp;The Mountain of SGaana, Haida filmmaker Christopher Auchter spins a magical tale of a young man who is stolen away to the spirit world, and the young woman who rescues him. The film brilliantly combines traditional animation with formal elements of Haida art, and is based on a story inspired by a old Haida fable.</p>

<p>The spirits of storied monsters from the Northwest Coast come to life.&nbsp;</p> <p>&ldquo;We SEE Monsters&rdquo; is a short animation that begins with a skipper and a fisherman out at sea. One is focused on the moon, and the other remains intent on the water. Then, we abruptly leave this world and dive deep into the realms below, where monsters are the conductors of ceremony. Hanuse Corlett has been exploring the stories from his territories that feature monsters. Throughout these stories, the monsters are not static characters that reflect only good or evil; they project dynamic qualities and balance. Their narratives often meander and sometimes end abruptly or spill over into another story. Movement is also an important aspect of these stories, as the characters are often travelling, journeying and dancing. As Hanuse Corlett explains, movement is expressed in our formline designs. Our shapes depict bodies in motion. In our dances, we embody and enact the spirit of these beings. &ldquo;We SEE Monsters&rdquo; features illustrations by Bracken Hanuse Corlett and Dean Hunt. The sound was created by Hunt in part by using field recordings from his home territory. Hunt comes from the Heiltsuk Nation and Hanuse Corlett comes from the Wukinuxv and Klahoose Nations. They have been working as an audio-visual duo since 2011, currently as the See Monsters and previously as part of Skookum Sound System. Hanuse Corlett also trained in the aspects of Northwest Coast Art, design and carving with Hunt, his brother Shawn Hunt and father Bradley Hunt. These illustrations were digitized by Hanuse Corlett, and then animated by Keith Morgan and Amanda Strong from Spotted Fawn Productions. Additional sound design and foley were created by Troy Slocum. This animation was made with the support of BC Arts Council and Canada Council for the Arts.</p>

<p>Transformed into a salmon, an Indigenous street artist travels through decayed urban landscapes to the forests of long ago.&nbsp;</p> <p>A young Indigenous female street artist named Mia&rsquo; walks through the city streets painting scenes rooted in the supernatural history of her people.</p> <p>A young Indigenous female street artist named Mia&rsquo; walks through the city streets painting scenes rooted in the supernatural history of her people. Lacking cultural resources and familial connection within the city, she paints these images from intuition and blood memory. She has not heard the stories from her Elders lips, but has found her own methods to re-discover them. The alleyways become her sanctuary and secret gallery, and her art comes to life. Mia&rsquo; is pulled into her own transformation via the vessel of a salmon. In the struggle to return home, she traverses through polluted waters and skies, witnessing various forms of industrial violence and imprint that have occurred upon the land.&nbsp; Mia&rsquo; is a hybrid documentary using animation and sound as a vehicle to tell the story of transformation and re-connection. Indigenous people in Canada experienced displacement once commercial trade turned into settlement. Today the urban population of Native people now outnumbers those living on-reserve. Many struggle being disconnected from their land, rites, and protocol. This film is not an adaptation or a re-telling of a traditional story but is based in the circular time of, and passage of, oral history. Mia&rsquo; challenges the notions and format of conventional documentaries and presents Indigenous oral traditions as truth and not myth or legend.</p>

<p>The wild beauty of the Bella Coola Valley blends with vivid watercolor animation illuminating the role of the Nuxalk oral tradition and the intersection of story, place and culture.</p> <p>In 2010, less than fifteen Nuxalk language speakers and storytellers remained. One of these elders is the director Banchi Hanuse&rsquo;s grandmother. In a technologically obsessed century, it would seem easier to record Nuxalk stories for future generations, but Hanuse resists. Instead, she asks whether an electronic recording can capture the true meaning and value of these oral traditions. More importantly, can it be considered cultural knowledge?</p> <p><em>Cry Rock</em>&nbsp;examines how Nuxalk stories are more than mere words. With the passing of an elder, an invaluable link to a treasure of knowledge and experience reflecting the Nuxalk world view is lost. As Hanuse struggles with the decision, a spine tingling story about the&nbsp;<em>Cry Rock</em>&nbsp;in the bend of the Atnarko River, nestled in the Bella Coola Valley, is retold by Clyde Tallio, a young Nuxalk man.</p> <p>Immersive and revealing, the documentary blends interviews set against the wild beauty of the Bella Coola Valley with vivid watercolour animation.&nbsp;<em>Cry Rock</em>&nbsp;illuminates the intersection of Nuxalk history, place and spirit that are at the heart of an oral storytelling tradition.</p>

<p>Performers dance to seemingly unlikely soundtracks.&nbsp;</p> <p>Tsu H&eacute;idei Shugaxtutaan translates to We will again open this container of wisdom that has been left in our care. The work is named for the song being danced in by the non-Tlingit dancer. Galanin suggests opening containers of wisdom to create connection between generations as contribution to living culture. &nbsp;This work embodies celebration of culture and the necessity of contribution over consumption. In this early work Galanin explores song, dance, language, as intersecting streams to carry cultural continuum. The work asserts Tlingit song and dance as contemporary and relevant, blending them seamlessly with contemporary song and dance as a beacon for what is possible when culture is allowed to grow and expand to navigate new circumstances. Rather than a juxtaposition of time or place, the video expands both by weaving together image, sound and motion.</p> <p>In Part 1, well-known contemporary dancer David Elsewhere &ldquo;pops&rdquo; to the traditional Tlingit song Tsu Heidei Shugaxtutaan, which translates to &ldquo;We Will Again Open This Container of Wisdom That Has Been Left in Our Care,&rdquo; the title for the video series. Song and dance have long been a part of indigenous culture and often play a central role in ceremonies and gatherings that cultivate relationships with families, friends, ancestors, and the supernatural world.</p> <p>Part 2 features traditional Native American dancer Dan Littlefield performing a Raven Dance to a heavy electronic beat, a song composed by the artist and seemingly inspired by video games. The beautiful and intricate Eagle and Raven wall screen was carved by Galanin s uncle and resides at the Community House in Sitka, Alaska, Galanin s home town. The dancer performs a Raven Dance wearing traditional regalia and wielding a Raven Rattle, a representation of power and authority. The Raven is a prevalent symbol in Native American culture--a paradoxical figure that manifests as hero, trickster, creator, and perhaps most importantly for Galanin, transformer.</p> <p>Until the 1960s, Native American Art, along with other indigenous art forms, was traditionally exhibited as romanticized anthropological artifact. Objects were viewed chronologically, geographically, and ethnographically, sentimentalized and defined by Western colonization as &ldquo;the other.&rdquo; Indigenous art was grouped as a whole and considered part of a traditional past that precluded change, adaptation, or individualism. In the present day, many artists assert their cross-cultural uniqueness through an exploration of past traditions, present influences, and future opportunities.</p> <p>&#39;Culture cannot be contained as it unfolds. My art enters this stream at many different points, looking backwards, looking forwards, generating its own sound and motion. I am inspired by generations of Tlingit; Unangax̂ creativity and contribute to this wealthy conversation through active curiosity. There is no room in this exploration for the tired prescriptions of the &#39;Indian Art World&#39; and its institutions. Through creating I assert my freedom.&#39; -Nicholas Galanin</p> <p>Hybridity is a propelling force in Galanin s work--an exploration of his traditional past melded with contemporary influences. Through transmutation and paradox, the artist invokes the historic and the now, integrating art and life as a bridge of new creation. In his own words, &ldquo;It is not a rejection or an embracing; we can be whoever we want to be or choose, embracing ourselves.&rdquo;</p>

<p>his short documentary serves as a portrait of Lawrence Paul Yuxweluptun, one of Canada&#39;s most important painters. We meet him at the Bisley Rifle Range in Surrey, England, where he&#39;s literally shooting the Indian Act in a performance piece called &quot;An Indian Shooting the Indian Act.&quot; It&#39;s in protest of the ongoing effects of the Act&#39;s legislation on Indigenous people. We then follow him back to Canada, for interviews with the artist and a closer look at his work.</p>

<p>Kwakwaka&#39;wakw director Barb Cranmer has created two short films that recreate the experience of the modern-day potlatch, still practiced in her community of Alert Bay, British Columbia. Part 1 (10 minutes) is a narrative documentary showing the potlatch ceremony and discussing its importance in the passing down of history and connection to ancestry. Part 2 (13 minutes) immerses the viewer in the experience itself with a powerful soundscape that was filmed in the Bighouse during this traditional ceremony that connects families and community for Canada&#39;s Indigenous Northwest Coast people.</p>

<p>This short impressionist documentary looks at the creation of a Button Blanket by integrating the performance of a traditional dance with the art of the West Coast Heiltsuk Nation.</p>

<p>In August 1969, the entire village of Old Massett gathered to raise the first new totem pole in over a century.&nbsp;</p> <p>When internationally renowned Haida carver Robert Davidson was only 22 years old, he carved the first new totem pole on British Columbia&rsquo;s Haida Gwaii in almost a century. On the 50th anniversary of the pole&rsquo;s raising, Haida filmmaker Christopher Auchter steps easily through history to revisit that day in August 1969, when the entire village of Old Massett gathered to celebrate the event that would signal the rebirth of the Haida spirit.</p>

<p>Set in Haida Gwaii in the 19th century, the epic thriller Edge of the Knife (SGaawaay Ḵ&#39;uuna) adapts a classic Haida folk tale of a man left for dead in the forest who becomes the Gaagiid/Gaagiixiid, or &ldquo;the Wildman.&rdquo; &nbsp;</p> <p>The first feature film to be released entirely in the critically endangered Haida language, the film was made with a Haida cast, who trained with fluent speakers to build proficiency in the language for filming. With sets, costumes, and props from traditional Haida craftspeople, Edge of the Knife is both visually engrossing cinema and socially minded catalyst for cultural revitalization.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</p> <p>Experience Haida culture through&nbsp;<em>Sgaawaay Ḵʹuuna</em>&nbsp;(<em>Edge of the Knife</em>) &mdash; the first feature film spoken entirely in dialects of the Haida language.</p> <p>Set in the 1800s, at a time before European contact on Haida Gwaii, two families reunite at their summer fishing camp. Conflict and tragedy between Adiits&rsquo;ii and his best friend Kwa soon tear the families apart. Consumed by grief, Adiits&rsquo;ii transforms into&nbsp;<em>Gaagiit/Gaagiixid</em>&nbsp;(Wildman), a ravenous supernatural being caught between two worlds. While the community desperately tries to bring Adiits&rsquo;ii back to his former self, Kwa wrestles with his deepest desire: revenge.</p> <p>This film hits home not only for the contemporary Haida actors and community members who took on the challenge of bringing their fragile and endangered language to the screen, but also to countless Indigenous communities who face similar challenges worldwide.</p>