National Indigenous People’s Day, also known as June 21, has existed for nearly three decades as a day to celebrate First Nations, Inuit and Métis joy, history, art and culture across Turtle Island. It’s also the summer solstice, a time of new life and season marked on the longest day of the year. 

To celebrate this day and give thanks to those who came before, CBC Music asked Indigenous musicians to talk about who has made a difference to them as artists, and why — and what song they think is a must-hear from the artist they’re celebrating. The result is a beautiful recognition of both industry veterans and contemporaries — plus a perfect playlist to mark the day.

Artist: Jeremy Dutcher
Artist to celebrate: Maggie Paul

“I was always taught to acknowledge those who have gone before us and helped clear our path, and there is no greater path-clearing, space-making influence than Maggie Paul on how or why I make music. Wisoki-woliwon nutakehkikemit ciw lintuwakonol naka psiw-te kehkituwakonol!

“Nulasweltom naka koselomol.”

Must-hear song: “tutuwas (pinecone song)”

“Recorded on a single ambient microphone in the late ’80s, this recording of a traditional waponahkiyik (people of the dawn) dance song stands as a favourite in my collection. ‘Tutuwas (pinecone song)’ is a song often heard when we gather at powwows or community events, where pine needles are placed on the drum skin and the young women are invited to come dance. As they dance around, the goal is to closely follow the instructions given by the singer’s lyrics. ‘Dance forward, dance back, dance sideways, dance proud’: think of it like the Indigenous ‘cha-cha slide’ — a real banger. 

“As a kid I heard this song sung most often by Maggie Paul, so when I hear this recording, it sounds like home. I am transported.

“Maggie’s way of using her voice and catalogue of songs have had a profound impact on my own musical journey and expression. This song’s beauty rests in its simplicity of line as much as in its use of the voice unbridled, ringing out atop the steady acceleration of her drum; a masterclass in traditional waponahki dance song form. Compounding this beauty is to comprehend that you are hearing a critically endangered Indigenous language sung by a fluent lifelong speaker; I am so grateful this recording exists.”

Artist: Tia Wood
Artist to celebrate: Fawn Wood

“I would say my sister Fawn, because she was really, truly a trailblazer growing up…. She won a lot of big singing competitions. And she was the first woman to do a lot of things. She won some of the biggest contests in the world for traditional singing, and she was the first woman to win her category [traditional Indigenous artist of the year] at the Junos. It has to be her, because growing up, she really showed me so much support and so much motivation.”

Must-hear song: “A Song for Mosom”

“That song came to her in such a crazy way actually. Somebody came up to her at an event and showed her this song, and they said, ‘My Mosom,’ which means grandfather, ‘My grandfather would always sing this song.’ And we just grew up in such a musical family, so it was really special receiving that and just [Fawn’s] rendition of it. Whenever I hear that song, it just really makes me think of home because [there’s] a guitar in it, it sounds kind of country, and that’s kind of what our radios out in the rez could reach was only country music radio. So that song really represents home for me.”

Artist: Elisapie
Artist to celebrate: Sugluk

“I think I’m going to go with Sugluk, my uncle’s band. I mean, I’m from a small town, so when you’re from a small town, you usually have your local singer-songwriter. Kind of like you’re just playing music, you know? But these guys have been playing music since the ’60s. Since Churchill, Manitoba, residential school. It’s funny because, all the people that I love, too, were making music: Willie Thrasher, Willie Dunn — maybe not so much Willie Dunn, but William Tagoona…. a lot of boys, and not many girls in there. Sugluk band, Charlie Adams, all the great singer-songwriters I know, they all formed a band in Churchill, Manitoba, where they were residential school teenagers. 

“So my uncle’s band have been making music and rock ‘n’ roll since the ’60s. So when I was growing up in the ’80s, I just felt like I had these pros, I had these real singer-songwriters to look up to, especially my uncle. He’s such a great singer. And back then he was doing more rock ‘n’ roll so his voice was a little bit more on the rock ‘n’ roll side, but now he’s still singing. He’s what, I’d say early 70s now? But he’s not a singer —  he just, I don’t know how to say it, he’s beyond [being a] singer. He has that gift of melody, emotion. And he’s a great one. So I was able to really say, ‘Well, I can do it. I have it in me because I have my blood’ [laughs]. It’s the same thing. It’s a family affair and it’s such a big pride in my town, that family…. We’re very connected musically.”

Must-hear song: “Ajuinnarasuarsunga”

“‘Ajuinnarasuarsunga’ is really beautiful because it’s a ballad. It’s a love song about this boy who was just feeling hopeless. To hear an Inuk boy who is, you know, pretty much saying, ‘I really want to be with you, I think I’m the one for you, but you’re somewhere else. So you have your own path, you’re with them.’ And it’s so true [laughs]. It’s so true. It’s almost like a country song in a way. You know how country songs can be just so honest? Well, there’s so much honesty in that song.”

Artist: Asko
Artist to celebrate: Joe Rainey

“Joe Show challenges the status quo by being entirely himself. He caters to no one, and I don’t think he cares what anyone thinks. What courage, what passion. Joe, like me, is an urban Indigenous person. As a kid growing up in Minneapolis, he started going to powwows with his little tape recorder, documenting the sounds of drummers, singers and callers. His mom signed him up to learn to sing powwow at a local urban Indigenous organization. He got better and was brought into a renowned touring powwow group, learning, caring and sharing songs. At some point, he carried all those teachings and moved into contemporary music. His lauded debut, Niineta, was all it took for me to grasp something I’d never heard before. For me, it was immediate. His process of making something considered old, challenging the status quo, demanded I start believing in my work and walking with pride. Joe Rainey is my game-changer.”

Must-hear song: “b.e. son”

“Joe’s music is quite emotional. He challenges us to like it or not. I think ‘b.e. son’ is a good place to start. If you like what you hear, I recommend listening to the entire album on headphones while walking the dogs. Hopefully, Joe inspires you to go walk a little farther, climb a little higher, and lean into the emotion of a beautiful artist.”

Artist: Snotty Nose Rez Kids
Artist to celebrate: The Halluci Nation

Quinton “Yung Trybez” Nyce: I would say that the artists that made the biggest impact was probably Halluci Nation, just because we followed them for so many years and [we’d] seen them in the same spotlight that we are in. And, you know, we kind of followed their journey. And what they had to say about their journey is what really inspired us to continue on with ours. 

And one thing that they did talk about is the importance of creating safe space for Indigenous people to be able to turn up, you know? Because before, when I first moved to the city, it was kind of like them breaking onto the scene, there wasn’t really a scene for Native people. And Tribe Called Red really created something for us to be able to, you know, come and unwind on a Friday, Saturday night at A Tribe Called Red show. And that’s what we were inspired to be, we were inspired to be a safe place for Native people to come out and just do the same thing that they did at Tribe Called Red shows.

Must-hear song: “R.E.D.” and “Stadium Pow Wow“

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Darren “Young D” Metz: That was the one that really took off. And yeah, there’s another version where they have Yasiin Bey on [“R.E.D.”] and it’s just so fire. That was the first time [we’d] seen an Indigenous artist link up with a legend — 

Yung Trybez: A legendary rapper. Legendary rappers.

Young D: That was inspiring for sure.

Artist: Sebastian Gaskin
Artist to celebrate: Derek Miller

“Derek Miller was one that was a big part of my childhood growing up. I believe he’s Mohawk, from here in Ontario. He’s a rock ‘n’ roll guitarist. My aunties grew up listening to him a lot. So he was always on around the house, during the daytime when they were cleaning up, that kind of stuff. So, yeah, he’s a really, really great guitarist.”

Must-hear song: “Stormy Eyes”

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“That’s a song that I tie very heavily to my formative years a little bit. I grew up in Manitoba, so whenever my mom and auntie would go down on trips to Winnipeg from up north, they’d always play Derek Miller. I have lots of good memories of sitting in the backseat, you know, hanging my head out the window.

“Over the past four months or so, I’ve kind of gotten more in touch with my guitar playing, which has been really liberating because I feel like I hit a bit of a plateau, and I’ve kind of gone back to songs I listened to back in my childhood and kind of reignited that spark.”

Details

By Native News Online Staff

June 18, 2024

This summer, the Smithsonian Folklife Festival returns to the National Mall in Washington, D.C., with a tribute to the National Museum of the American Indian (NMAI).

Titled “Indigenous Voices of the Americas: Celebrating the National Museum of the American Indian,” this year’s festival promises cultural celebrations, artistic expression, and community connections. 

The festival, a tradition spanning decades, is set against the backdrop of significant historical milestones. Notably, it marks the 20th anniversary of the opening of the NMAI, an institution dedicated to preserving and showcasing the diverse heritage of Indigenous peoples. 

As well, 2024 commemorates a century since the Indian Citizenship Act granted Native Americans dual citizenship and voting rights, although constrained by discriminatory laws until the Civil Rights Act of 1964. 

Scheduled from June 26 to July 1, the festival invites visitors to immerse themselves in a myriad of activities from 11 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily, with select evenings featuring live music until 7 p.m. on the Four Directions Stage. Programming will revolve around four primary themes: relevance, resistance, representation, and reclamation.

This initiative, presented in collaboration with the Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage, the NMAI, and the National Park Service, aims to honor both traditional and contemporary Indigenous expressions, fostering a platform for dialogue on cultural equity and social justice. 

Central to the festival’s ethos is the acknowledgment of the NMAI’s pivotal role in the preservation of Native histories and cultures. Established by the National Museum of the American Indian Act in 1989, the museum has housed a vast collection of artifacts and leading efforts in repatriation with tribal nations. 

NMAI’s journey includes milestones like the opening of the George Gustav Heye Center in 1994 and the Cultural Resource Center in 1999, culminating in the iconic museum on the National Mall in 2004. 

“Indigenous Voices of the Americas” will feature diverse Indigenous groups—from Alaska to Chile—showcasing their traditions through dance, music, culinary arts, visual arts, and storytelling.

A narrative stage will provide a platform for Native voices to share their perspectives, aiming to bridge cultural divides and enrich the understanding of Indigenous heritage among attendees.

The festival extends beyond the outdoor venue, inviting visitors to explore the NMAI’s exhibitions, including the newly opened “Unbound,” which highlights narrative art from the Great Plains.

Additionally, the museum’s café offers a culinary journey with Indigenous-inspired dishes, enhancing the immersive experience of cultural exchange.

Throughout the event, Indigenous artists, chefs, musicians, and storytellers will not only showcase their ancestral traditions but also engage in discussions on themes like Relevance, Resistance, Representation, and Reclamation. 

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Here’s What’s Going in Indian Country, May June 7th — June 13th

About The Author

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Native News Online is one of the most-read publications covering Indian Country and the news that matters to American Indians, Alaska Natives and other Indigenous people. Reach out to us at [email protected].

HONOLULU (HawaiiNewsNow) – The Waiwai Collective announces its first-ever Kanaka Art Show & Night Market, which will debut on Friday in Kaneohe.

The event spotlights the next generation of Kanaka artists.

The artists included are: Koloikeao Anthony of Poi Dawgs, Leah Mahealani Dakroub of Mahea Leah, Micheal Vossen – Shots by Voss, Luana – Luana Low, Bradda Ash – Creative Natives HI, and more.

There will be live music performances, discussions with young local talents, art for sale, and food.

Entry is $5 and free for keiki under 12.

Get your tickets and more information here.

Copyright 2024 Hawaii News Now. All rights reserved.

JG Audience is interesting. The way
that images and information circulate
now, you can, on one level, determine
your own audience. That said, I can
make work for people like me, which
is one place to start. When I work with
museums, I tell them that I believe
in making a show for Indigenous
audiences as well as for Indigenous
and queer audiences, but often they
express concern, like, “Where are they?
Who are they? Will they show up?” They
do, of course, in greater numbers than
institutions ever expect. But would they
have shown up before the institution
started speaking to them? Probably not,
or not a large portion of them.

I don’t think the idea of addressing
an audience is ever going to leave me.
I’m meant to be engaged with others.
I make things, that’s what I do. That’s
my role in the world. I think it’s easy
for me to want to give to people and to
encourage their joy in the present—I get
a lot of joy out of that. Somewhere in
there, in a quiet moment, I get to see it
happening and see myself experiencing
it too. I’ve also tried to make work over
the last twenty years that speaks to the
many facets of my experience, which
isn’t only rooted in Native cultures but
also in the many places I’ve lived and
the family I have. Dare I say, many intersections make up Jeffrey Gibson, and
I feel responsible to honor all of them.

AH I was hoping we’d get here. You
had a very atypical upbringing.

JG My mom and dad both grew up
in the South: in Cherokee communities
in Oklahoma and Choctaw communities in Mississippi. Great poverty. Both
of my grandfathers, Tim Wilson and
Homer Gibson, were sharecroppers at
some point. In the 1960s, each established an Indian church, both Southern
Baptist. They preached in Cherokee
and Choctaw, their languages, to their
Indigenous congregations. My mom
and dad left those communities and
went to boarding schools, and my dad
joined the Army, serving as an engineer
during the Vietnam War. Considering
the racism of the South in that period,
I think their decisions to leave were
really about safety and survival.

I was born in Colorado Springs,
where we lived for a very short period.
Then we moved to North Carolina,
where my father was a civil engineer for
the government. From there we moved
to Germany, New Jersey, Korea—I might be getting the order mixed up
there—Maryland, and then Washington,
DC. I moved to Chicago and then to
London and New York City. All those
experiences of being Native, being
American, being a foreigner, being an
indiscriminate race that nobody in the
United States nor abroad could quite
read are huge parts of my identity.

AH When did you move to New
York City?

JG In fall 1999, with Rune, my
husband. We met in graduate school
in London in 1998 and got married in
Norway before we moved.

AH So the Vikings did discover
America! (laughter) I’m from a military family, too, and military service,
in light of assimilation, was one of
the few paths available to Indigenous
people here. It can be kind of dizzying
to understand that history of military
service and assimilation alongside my
own politics and the historical saga of
my ancestors. How have you grappled
with that?

JG It’s a lot to process. I’ve experienced the conundrum you describe
in many ways in different periods of
my life. My understanding of Native
histories and their traumas got deeper
in my teens, twenties, and thirties, and
even now there are moments when I
feel I’m just beginning to understand
them on a deeper level. My grandparents’ and even my parents’ generation
could not speak of the traumatic
psychological and physical pain that
they experienced. Why could they not
speak of it? There’s a human misperception that if we don’t speak of pain,
then it will move into the past, and
we will heal. I can see now that that
is not true. People who come from a
traumatic history of colonization, we
often neglect our feelings as a defense
mechanism, but the past never really
leaves us.

I hate using the word complex,
because I feel like it doesn’t mean a
whole lot right now, but this is where
complexity really did help me understand how layered our perception of
reality can be and how little I have to
do with that. Yes, I could say that the
way that I see it is the way that it is, but
that would ignore all these other narratives through which people understand
the past. I’m interested in how the
past shows up, how what happened
hundreds of years ago continues today.
Did historical trauma disallow me—or
did I allow it to disallow me—from
establishing the voice I’m exercising
now? I hope I’m not getting too lost in
the weeds here, but I think that the way
our identities exist amid all of this is not
anyone’s sole responsibility. I’m shaped
by my environment. When I think
I’ve gained control over something or
know what I’m doing, it’s a mistake of
overconfidence.

Some 65,000 years ago, the native inhabitants of Australia developed a complex tool of communication — songlines, or “dreaming pathways” — not only as a means to map the histories and geographical routes of the tribes crisscrossing the vast country, but to also build pathways of knowledge which contained within them advice on sustainable living, seasonal vegetation, and how to survive in the great Australian outback.

These songlines have been passed down generations orally for many millennia, but in the absence of written text, have become increasingly difficult to preserve.

Based on a component of the National Museum of Australia’s (NMA) internationally acclaimed exhibition on aborigine songlines, which took eight years in the making, the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art (KNMA), Delhi, has come up with an immersive digital experience that is a call to save the oral art form from the looming threat of mitigation.

Through years of painstaking effort and collaboration with the elders of several Aboriginal tribes, the NMA’s exhibitionpulls off an experience like no other. The show features several spaces dedicated to visual storytelling of the oral traditions — through short films, puzzles and DIY stickers — in a way that celebrates their original identity. The show represents the work of over 100 artists.

Songlines of Aboriginal Australians in an immersive experience at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art in Delhi
| Photo Credit:
SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

“Aboriginal communities involved in this exhibition are integral to it,” says Margo Ngawa Neale, Emeritus Curatorial Fellow (First Nations) at the NMA. “We could not proceed without them. They are the owners of the story, the custodians of their parts of the songlines, and have the responsibility to keep them alive and keep their retelling correct,” says the Canberra-based curator through an email interview.

The show at KNMA is primarily centred on the Seven Sisters songline — a story of seven sisters who make their way from east to west Australia while running from a shapeshifting sorcerer who seeks to entrap them. The sisters’ journey, while mapping the contours of the country, also comes to signify themes of creation and sustenance.

The first few exhibits feature short films narrated by tribal elders. Naji, for instance, depicts how spirit beings awoke the dry, barren land, creating life and water as they travelled through the continent. Footprints captures how a group of young Aboriginal men on the verge of losing their songlines discovers that a neighbouring tribe still remembers some of their cultural songs. An especially immersive section, titled Travelling Kungkarangkalpa, brings to life a version of the Seven Sisters story.

To view the audio-visual experiment, one must lie flat on the ground and gaze up at the spherical projection on the ceiling, which uses animations modelled on paintings from Aboriginal artists. Another section allows visitors to work on a thousand-piece puzzle of ancient artwork.

Songlines of Aboriginal Australians in an immersive experience at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art in Delhi
| Photo Credit:
SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

The final exhibit is a dizzying experience featuring a dark room that comes alive with projections of the masterfully animated abstractions of the Seven Sisters songline, which whoosh past the viewer and fade away. “NMA has tried to capture this oral tradition by incorporating features of dancing and painting — both of which came long after songlines first came into existence. The exhibition is abstract for a reason, because the Aboriginals viewed time as cyclical, not linear, and thus we are only able to depict fragments of this tradition,” says a member of the KNMA team.

At the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, 145, DLF South Court Mall, Saket; Till June 30; 10.30 am to 6.30pm (Mondays closed)

Read Comments

On his role models

The land is both mentor and inspiration — all facets of my encounters with the land, whether it’s trees, rocks, formations, waters and, of course, all the wonderful flora and fauna that inhabit these spaces. Everything is alive; everything is imbued with spirit. The land is a person. In terms of style, we have our grandfathers in the art form, no one more so than Norval Morrisseau and Carl Ray, who used a lot of simple colour palettes and heavy black form lines. Ray did a style that I really loved as a youngster. There was something about that traditional Woodland style. Contemporary Indigenous artists always have to be careful to give that nod to those who laid the groundwork for us. 

On his themes

The messages I’m trying to communicate, such as connection and interdependence, are universal. So much of our attention today is focused, quite rightly, on the environment and our relationship to it. So if I’m going to talk about this topic in both image and word, it seems only right that I’m using the ways and means derived from my own Indigenous people, given our ancient kinship ties to the lands and the waters as well as to all the creatures that inhabit those realms.

On the Canada jay

One of the informal names for the Canada jay is the camp robber. It has that name because those who camped from way back, namely the Abitibi people, discovered very quickly that if they weren’t careful with their food, the bird was pretty good at finding and stealing it. So finally, Whiskyjack was confronted one day by someone who said, “Whiskyjack, why is it that no matter where we hide our food, you are able to find it?” Whiskyjack replied, “It is because the Earth is my plate, and each person knows how to clean their own plate.” Essentially, we take too much from the plate of the Earth, such that it’s having real impacts. We’re not keeping in mind the responsibility we all have to the next seven generations after, hence the name of my piece, “For Seven Generations.” 

On becoming a Fellow

Indigenous people, we’re storytelling people. But since colonization, we are a people who have only been spoken to, spoken at or spoken about — rarely spoken with and rarely able to speak for ourselves. Well, that has changed now, right? So that’s what I’m doing with my art. Now people are finally paying attention to Indigenous perspectives. I’m a storyteller in both images and words, so this fellowship is a chance to be part of the storytelling community.