Perhaps you would agree that part of the joy in contemplating art is the search for a secret—something subtle that strikes a note of truth or opens a window to a new perspective. Graphic and textile artist Flossie Papidluk (1904–1994) imparts such secrets in her work.
Papidluk was born near Read Island, BC, and lived in Ulukhaqtuuq, Inuvialuit Settlement Region, NT, where, in the 1960s, her drawings were produced as prints with the recently introduced stonecut technique. Eleven of her prints were in the Ulukhaktok Print Collection between 1966 and 1984. Papidluk’s prints from the late 1970s feature bold forms in monochromatic black or red, juxtaposed with small, surprising details. For me, the effect of these strong forms and fine lines is that she brought freshness to the familiar and connected the intimate to the epic, revealing other realms and casting relationships I thought I knew in an otherworldly light.
Flossie Papidluk Fight for a Woman (1977) COURTESY OF GALERIE ELCA LONDON © THE ARTIST
In Fight for a Woman (1977), Papidluk shares a secret about love triangles: they are no paltry thing—they’re a battle of forces. At the centre is a woman so solid and round, she’s almost planetary. She holds the power of creation at her pelvis and breast, where weighty white contours catch the eye. The men merely circle the woman, but the urgent red colour of the print reminds us that the fight for a mate is elemental. Lust. Power. Territoriality. Resistance. On earth, it’s an eternal battle. Papidluk, however, adds humanizing details to this archetype—facial tattoos, hair, lack of hair! Suddenly the men’s inability to budge the woman becomes all the more powerful. She’s not just another female to be won but an individual, whole and radiating agency.
Flossie Papidluk Hunting Walrus (1978) COURTESY MARION SCOTT GALLERY © THE ARTIST
In Hunting Walrus (1978), Papidluk gives the everyday act of pursuing prey at sea a diagrammatic quality: the detail on the tools, the arrangement of the hunter and the walruses, the walruses’ lobeless earholes, their soon-to-be severed heads. For me, the secret of this work is in the lines denoting where the two walrus heads meet the water. Not only do those lines suggest future quartering, but they also highlight the two worlds colliding in this routine moment: our known air world and the walruses’ unknown water world. While both the human and the animals share the colour black, the sea’s surface is colourless and holds an uncanny power. It swiftly conceals the bulk of the multi-ton animals the same way it conceals an entire realm of mystery.
Flossie Papidluk Nesting Loons (1979) COURTESY WADDINGTON’S AUCTIONEERS AND APPRAISERS, TORONTO © THE ARTIST
What I love about Nesting Loons (1979) is the intensity of the nesting parents with the use of so much black. The black birds swim on black water, drawing me into their intimate avian universe where protecting eggs is a high-stakes endeavour. The body of water that is their home is so dark it could be an oil spill. Or, given the alien quality of the quadrilateral nest and eyeball-like eggs, these dark waters also suggest outer space to me. And yet, the nest’s attachment to the earth—that little kinked cord—is familiar. It’s this small detail that reminds me of an umbilical cord attached to the placenta. As in her other works with bold forms and surprising details, Papidluk makes the earthly seem new, echoing other realms and hinting at a secret intimacy between it all.
If Flossie Papidluk’s art appeals to you, you might also enjoy the work of Kinngait, NU, artist Eleeshushe Parr; Harry Egotak, from Ulukhaqtuuq; and Natashia Allakariallak, from Iqaluit, NU.