Cultural materials should be seen as a living link—an ongoing conversation between the past, present and future. By recreating sewing patterns, engaging with Elders and fostering intergenerational collaboration, the Agguaq Collective is breathing new life into fragments of memory held in these objects.
One of the most beautiful things about sewing or making is the connection you create between yourself, traditional knowledge and the person or people who are sharing their knowledge with you. Ancestral space is created in those moments; relations become threaded across time between your ancestors, your present and your descendants through the act of sewing or making cultural materials. Living memory is a key element in the continuation of our ancestral knowledge, and it is a fundamental aspect of the work of the Agguaq Collective. The meaning behind our name, Agguaq, loosely translates to “patchwork.” For the collective, we interpret it as patching the knowledge gaps left by the violence of colonialism on Inuit and our knowledge base. We are inspired by the concept of looking back in order to go forward and igniting living memories through relationship building. Mentorship and connection to our ancestral knowledge are part of that.
Agguaq Collective close visiting with beaded tuili made by Nivisannaaq “Shoofly” at the American Museum of Natural History, New York City, 2023 COURTESY AGGUAQ COLLECTIVE
The members of Agguaq were brought together in 2022 by our founder, Lori Tagoona Randall. Lori reached out to artists and sewists to create a group that would go to museum collections and visit Inuit piqutiit (belongings), annuraat (clothing) and uktuutiit (patterns) to connect with ancestral knowledge and gain inspiration for new creations. In the fall of 2022 we met in Ottawa, ON, to begin our journey as Agguaq, which included Winifred Nungak, Melissa Attagutsiak, Mishael Gordon, Lori and me. Avery Keenainak, another founding member, was not there in person. Rose Tina Alivaktuk and my aunt, Brenda Putulik, joined the collective in early 2023.
In Ottawa, we began to shape our collective. Cultural vitalization was important to each of us, as well as building relationships with our communities. We also wanted to make an impact in some way to address some of the experiences we have had that stem from colonialism—namely, lateral violence—by making an inclusive and safe space for our creativity to blossom. Through cultural vitalization, we want to emphasize the importance of visual, tangible and intangible culture to sustain and rejuvenate Inuit heritage. Through relationship building, we want to foster community ties and intergenerational relationships to strengthen communal bonds and knowledge transfer. Lastly, we want to utilize our platform as a collective to address and highlight issues important to the Inuit community. These goals have shaped how we work as a collective and how we hope to keep knowledge moving forward. Our practice—rooted in ancestral knowledge and contemporary making—reaffirms that living memory must be reckoned with as a transformative force.
Brenda Putulik working on a pattern for a 120-year-old tuili from the Kivalliq Region, 2023 courtesy agguaq collective
Between 2022 and 2025 Agguaq visited several museum collections. Our first visits were in Winnipeg, MB, where we were hosted by the Winnipeg Art Gallery-Qaumajuq and the Manitoba Museum. We later visited the Avataq Cultural Institute and the McCord Stewart Museum in Montreal, QC; the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York City; and the Museum of Cultural History at the University of Oslo, Norway. Sometimes our collection visits were like speed dating—looking at a lot of piqutiit in a short amount of time—or close visiting, spending time looking at the details of one piqutik. Sometimes the visits are a combination of both approaches, depending on our goals, time and the museum.
Collaboration and collective knowledge are integral aspects of our work together. I knew the skills and knowledge I have with museum collections could be a valuable contribution to the project, even if my artistic side was not as strong. I also knew that other members, who are amazing artists and sewists, would bring valuable skills and insights that would fill the gaps. Although my strengths lie in academia, research and navigating colonial institutions like museums, the others’ strengths lie in deeper cultural knowledge and skills in sewing and pattern making. Rose Tina has both practical sewing and historical knowledge; Brenda understands the different styles of clothing from across the Arctic; Avery brings a youthful optimism and eagerness to learn that is intoxicating, as well as diverse sewing skills; Winifred and Melissa are both talented contemporary sewists who have experience in the fashion industry; Mishael is a talented sewist and designer, and she is a strong leader; and lastly, although Lori’s focus has been facilitating the collective, she brings her mad skills in sewing and design. We have come to realize that our individual memories, when taken together, are valuable in strengthening our collective knowledge.
Left: Western Arctic Artist Not Recorded Untitled (Mother Hubbard Parka) (2001) Cotton, wolf fur and Delta Braid; Right: Qamani’tuaq (Baker Lake) Artist Not Recorded Untitled (Attigi [Male]) (c. 1950) Caribou hide, wool fleece, wool and antler Both courtesy wag-qaumajuq photo ernest mayer © THE ARTISTs
One experience that has changed me and boosted my confidence in making new patterns or recreating old ones is when Brenda and I worked on copying a tuili pattern from the early 1900s. I have been studying this particular amauti style called a tuili, a distinct style where the shoulders are large and the hood is long and narrow with a small opening. The shoulders provide room for the woman to reach back into the pouch and bring the child to the front to breastfeed without having to pull the child out of the amauti. Brenda is skilled in pattern making and adjusting and is a very talented sewist. While visiting a 120-year-old tuili from the Kivalliq Region, which is currently at the AMNH, we had the opportunity to create a pattern. Brenda used brown paper to copy the tuili while in the collection, using her intimate knowledge of the complex and intricate pattern to draft the different pieces of the garment and using measuring tape to ensure accuracy. I have always wanted to do this in collections, but was never able to do a full pattern until this visit to the AMNH.
Brenda Putulik working on a pattern for a 120-year-old tuili from the Kivalliq region,
2023 courtesy agguaq collective
From the outset, we wanted to build relationships with Elders and knowledge holders. We felt that spending time with piqutiit, annuraat and uktuutiit alongside more knowledgeable people would benefit the mobilization of knowledge. Though each of us is already knowledgeable in piqutiit, annuraat and uktuutiit, we know that Inuit pedagogies emphasize that learning alongside others is important, that Inuit knowledge mobilization is not a solo experience. In short, we invited Elders into our collective to ensure intergenerational knowledge could be fostered. Enter Rose Tina and Brenda, our young Elders, or Elders-in-Training, who have the most generous and loving energy. They have become more than friends and mentors to us through this journey; they have become family. They have helped each of us, from guiding us through pattern making and the history of different patterns to helping us expand our creativity through the creation of contemporary works inspired by annuraat we visited in collections. Rose Tina has worked with Avery on patterns from Panniqtuuq, NU, including ones from their direct ancestors or mentors, and has helped us all better understand different styles from other regions.
Left: Rose Tina Alivaktuk Paunnakuluk ᐸᐅᓐᓇᑯᓗᒃ 1869 (2024) Tuttu leather, sealskin leather, glass beads and paunna in resin; Centre: Winifred Nungak Kukuppaalik (2024) Soft shell light fabric, bias tape, ric rac and fringe; Right: Mishael Gordon Arna - 1/2295 A (2024) Embroidered lace, Italian polyamide wool and cotton bias tape trim All courtesy fofa gallery photos Laurence Poirier© THE ARTISTs
Mentorship is one of the pillars of Agguaq’s goals, and working with Rose Tina and Brenda has been meaningful because we want to model what it looks like to create mentorship opportunities for future generations. Brenda helped me conduct a tuili-making gathering in 2022, and she also guided me in adjusting Agguaq’s Melissa Pattern—a project that I will get into below—which ultimately helped me combine three different patterns into one. Brenda helped me combine a silhouette that is rooted in the tuili, with high hip curves, sleeves from an amauti pattern and a large hood inspired by a particular parka that is based on the amauti hood. This was a garment that I had always envisioned and hoped to make but could never figure out on my own. It is my new favourite pattern, partly because it is exactly how I envisioned it, but mostly because working alongside Brenda has been very special to me. This is a significant way for memory to be carried forward while looking back. This is the kind of work that folds the threads of memory across generations that ultimately fosters innovation, much like how I envision our ancestors did.
Each collection we visited has been meaningful in its own way. In our 2023 visit to the McCord Stewart Museum in Montreal, we saw a sealskin amauti with dog fur from the Quebec side of the Hudson Strait area, in Nunavik, dated around 1890–97. The amauti was quite petite, with a narrow akuq (tail) and a large hood. The sleeves had four distinctive dark pukiit (lines) around them and three pukiit around the hem. Much like older patterns made from hides, the pattern was composed of several individual pieces, culminating in an almost puzzle-like structure that exudes the ingenuity and engineering skills Inuit sewists have. Clothing made from hides requires attention to detail to make the best use of the hide itself, resulting in multiple pieces being used to make a single garment.
Nunavimmiut Artist Not Recorded Untitled (Amauti) (c. 1890–97) Sealskin, dog fur and sinew 143 × 70 cm courtesy McCord Stewart Museum Montreal
None of us had ever seen a garment that old, which brought to mind the sentiments of the Elders who visited museum collections in the short documentary Inuit Piqutingit (What Belongs to Inuit) (2009) by Bernadette Dean and Zacharias Kunuk, OC, ONu, LLD. The Elders state that museums are important because sometimes they preserve our cultural material in ways that we cannot. The visit to the McCord Stewart was emotional for many of us. It was particularly meaningful because we were able to learn more about that particular style, which had elements that were no longer in our living memory, including the long band at the top of the hood that creates the kukukpaaq (point), which is usually made from a piece that is the shape of a bell. Rose Tina immediately recognized the importance of bringing this knowledge back to life and recreated the garment when she went home.
Rose Tina Alivaktuk’s recreation of the amauti from the Panniqtuuq area in 2022cOURTESY AGGUAQ COLLECTIVE
Through collaboration, we can mend the fissures in our knowledge base that were created by colonialism and, in doing so, manifest what our name—and ultimately, our sense of fostering our living memories—alludes to: patchwork through innovation and ingenuity. We bring with us our own understandings of Inuit heritage and knowledge, which, coupled with collaboration, meant we were keen to make something together. In February 2024 we gathered in Iqaluit, NU, to dream up where we want to take Agguaq next. It was also an opportunity to sew and make together as a collective. During our time together, we discussed what kind of garment we’d like to make collaboratively. We wanted to make something that reflected our intergenerational and collaborative approach to our work thus far. After much discussion, we realized that although we had shared experiences in the collections, what we each took from the visits was quite personal. We came up with the idea of starting with a core pattern—a bodice, in this instance—and personalizing our garments based on our experiences with the cultural materials we visited in museums.
Winifred Nungak and Rose Tina Alivaktuk close visiting with an amauti from the Panniqtuuq area (c. 1890–97) at the McCord-Stewart Museum in Montreal, 2022 courtesy agguaq collective
We wanted a central element that linked all of our garments together, a representation of each of our experiences in collections that are storied in the pieces themselves. We called this our Melissa Pattern, as Melissa had drafted the core design. Winifred made a white garment with her signature sinik (trim) work that was based on an amauti we saw at the AMNH. She explained that in her region, Nunavik, the hoods are rounded, but in Nunavut they are pointed. However, the amauti at the AMNH had a tiny kukukpaaq, which Rose Tina attributed to connections between families and communities, highlighting that the original maker had relations from the Qikiqtaaluk Region. These types of small details in our clothing—ones that speak to connections across vast geographies and waters—are tangible elements of memory and memory-making, especially since we are a collective of individuals from different communities and regions.
Krista Ulujuk Zawadski, Winifred Nungak, Rose Tina Alivaktuk and Avery Keenainak presenting garments made from the original Melissa Pattern at the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association conference in Bodø, Norway, 2024 cOURTESY TAQRALIK PARTRIDGE
Agguaq’s journey has been a powerful testament to the strength of collaboration, cultural revitalization and the living nature of memory. Together we have not only deepened our understanding of Inuit heritage but also addressed the gaps left by colonial violence. Our visits to collections have provided the space to re-engage with ancestral knowledge, turning piqutiit from the past into active, evolving sources of inspiration. This is not just about preservation; it’s about the relational work of remembering, where memory is passed on, innovated and carried forward through creative processes. Living memory is not a static archive but a continuous process of transmission and transformation.
Krista Ulujuk Zawadski is a curator, researcher, anthropologist, beader, sewist and land-based educator from Igluligaarjuk (Chesterfield Inlet), NU, and Kangiqłiniq, NU. She holds a PhD in Cultural Mediations from Carleton University.
This piece originally appeared in the winter 2025 issue of the Inuit Art Quarterly
as “Threading Ancestral Spaces: The Agguaq Collective”