Do you ever wonder what games Inuit like to play to pass time during the long winter months? From the more traditional game of Alaskan High Kick, to more modern games like Old Maid and Jacks, this article covers a range of artworks that depict the games that Inuit, to this day, love to play! So, if you are craving more games and revelry as the 2026 Winter Olympics wind down, and want to amp yourself up for the 2026 Arctic Winter Games, enjoy these artworks from some very talented Inuit artists!
Josie Pootoogook Games We Play (2023) Printmaker Qavavau Manumie Stonecut on washi paper 49.5 x 57.7 cm
REPRODUCED WITH PERMISSION DORSET FINE ARTS © THE ARTIST
Games We Play (2023)
Despite its chic black-and-white colour palette and the wavy, organic forms that summon images of the Matisse-like wall decor that’s been trendy over the last few years, what I really see when I look at Josie Pootoogook’s Games We Play (2023) is nostalgia, conjuring images of growing up with toys like these. Some I recognize instantly—the pick-up sticks, the game of jacks with its rubber bouncy balls, the clackers and the card game. Others require a bit more parsing—is the speckled ball tied to a stick a variation on a cup and ball game? The loop might be a race track for mini cars, or a long jump rope in a spiral.
The real puzzler is the board with its many white spots, a bold presence taking up over a quarter of the image. Could it be some kind of mancala board? Every time I return to the irregular little pieces inside the pockets though, it makes me think of the board game Operation, even as I know that Pootoogook, growing up in the Arctic in the ’60s, probably didn’t play this game as a child, given it only came out in 1965. Still, I feel like a child with those little plastic tweezers, pulling out the pieces of this artwork one by one for closer examination.
JESSICA MACDONALD
Senior Editor and Manager of Special Initiatives
Megan Kyak-Monteith String Game (2019) Acrylic 30 x 40 cm
COURTESY MARION SCOTT GALLERY © THE ARTIST
String Game (2019)
I’ve never been a particularly athletic person, so I’m more drawn to games that you can play with your hands, sitting or standing around, like the string game Megan Kyak-Monteith depicts in this painting. String games involve manipulating thread or string with your fingers, an exercise both for your hands and your mind.
With their heads drawn closely together, the two figures in String Game (2019) study the intricate web of string the person in the red jacket has created with her hands. The thread is so finely painted, it reminds me of delicate lace or a spider’s web. Kyak-Monteith’s works tend to have a dreamy, nostalgic feel to them, and this one is no exception. The dark, moody colours of the jackets and the sky suggest a cold winter night, but the brightly patterned head scarf is a reminder of warmer days. I imagine these two are best friends or sisters, playing this game in comfortable near silence. What should the next move be?
MELISSA KAWAGUCHI
Associate Editor
Ningiukulu Teevee Tulukkaujaqtuq (Like a raven) (2021)
REPRODUCED WITH PERMISSION DORSET FINE ARTS © THE ARTIST
Tulukkaujaqtuq (Like a raven) (2021)
You may be asking yourself, “What is going on in this drawing?!” Tulukkaujaqtuq (Like a raven) (2021) depicts a game that Inuit (most often children) play by putting their legs (and, if there’s room, their arms as well) through the sleeves of a silapaaq, atigi, or any kind of jacket or hooded sweater and tying it up so the bottom hem creates a raven tail. Once they’re all trussed up (usually with other children doing the same), they walk around making comical raven sounds and inevitably rolling around on the floor because being tied up with your arms and legs together tends to impact your balance. It is truly a joy to behold and to participate in.
While the style of this piece is somewhat of a departure from Ningiukulu Teevee’s usual crisp, bold work, the content is right on point for the artist. Teevee depicts a raven, or tulugak, playing the beloved childhood game, but with a notable difference: instead of a human face poking out of a hood, Teevee transforms a joyful childhood activity into a magical scene, with a creature with both human and raven qualities. The visible linework of the subject’s body gives a sense of frenetic energy, while the raven’s head is notably darker black, carefully filled in, highlighting that this is a real raven’s head, not just the pointed hood of a Qikiqtaaluk parka. It’s a brilliant take on the raven, who is so often a trickster or a mischief-maker in Inuit and other Indigenous storytelling.
NAPATSI FOLGER
Tauttunnguaqti
Mary Okheena Breaking Through (2000) Printmaker Louie Nigiyok Etching on cotton paper 28 x 38 cm
COURTESY CANADIAN ARCTIC PRODUCERS © THE ARTIST
Breaking Through (2000)
The focal subject in Breaking Through (2000) is performing the Alaskan High Kick but instead of aiming his kick towards a sealskin ball, the warmly wrapped competitor appears to aim for a natchiq—meaning seal in Sallirmiutun—and in doing so, shatters ice. This clever print was conceived by Mary Okheena, an Inuvialuk multidisciplinary artist from Ulukhaqtuuq, Inuvialuit Settlement Region, NT. One of the solo-performed Inuit games, the Alaskan High Kick is a demonstration of strength, precision, and endurance. To successfully perform this kick, players lift their body off the ground, balancing their weight on one hand, kick a target suspended above them, and land with that same foot.
Shading in the black monochromatic print is rendered through etched crosshatches, with blank spaces revealing details, including that the competitor is grasping his left foot with his right hand. Yet the details revealed for the figure in the background add uncertainty rather than clarity, as his upper body appears human but his legs are clearly the carefully balanced stones of an inukshuk. The blurring of the lines between living and non-living with the figure, as well as with the competitor’s target, suggests to me the print is best read through symbolism, especially its title.
Viewing the ice as a ceiling, Breaking Through can be read as shattering the barriers that inhibit Inuit—whether that is an individual advancing within an organization, a people advocating for their right to self-determination, or a youth overcoming generational trauma and engaging in communal activities such as seal hunting. At any level, a breakthrough begins as an internal process but can have powerful external results.
TIFFANY RADDI
Assistant Editor