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When Rivers Were Trails is a 2D adventure game wherein The Oregon Trail meets Where the Water Tastes Like Wine through an Indigenous lens. The game depicts a myriad of cultures during the player’s journey from Minnesota to California amidst the impact of land allotment in the 1890s. Initiated by the Indian Land Tenure Foundation, the game was developed in collaboration with the Games for Entertainment and Learning Lab at Michigan State University thanks to support from the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians and the many Indigenous creatives who contributed design, art, music, and writing. Uniquely, When Rivers Were Trails is a sovereign game, meaning that it was directed and informed by Indigenous creatives who maintained the role of final decisions during development. Merging design research and close reading methods, this study sets out to describe the game’s design, development process in regards to the game writing, and the resulting themes which emerged as a result of engaging Indigenous writers in self-determined representations.

"This edited collection focuses on "unsettling" Northwest Coast art studies, bringing forward voices that uphold Indigenous priorities, engage with past and ongoing effects of settler colonialism, and advocate for practices for more accountable scholarship. Featuring authors with a variety of perspectives, backgrounds, and methodologies, Unsettling Art Histories offers new insights for the field of Northwest Coast art studies. Key themes include discussions of cultural heritage protections and long-standing defenses of natural resources and territory; re-centering women and the critical role they play in transmitting cultural knowledge across generations through materials, techniques, and creations; reflecting on the decolonization work being undertaken in museums; and examining how artworks function beyond previous scholarly framings as living documents carrying information critical to today's inquiries. Re-examining previous scholarship and questioning current institutional practices by prioritizing information gathered in Native communities, the essays in this volume exemplify various methods of "unsettling" and demonstrate how new methods of research have reshaped scholarship and museum practices."

This article examines how “colonial time” is called into question in two short films of the National Film Board of Canada’s series Souvenir, from 2015. The question of time lies at the heart of this series, for which the NFB commissioned contemporary Indigenous filmmakers to take up their archives of visual material on Indigenous peoples. The colonial temporal framework is at work in the vast archives of ethnographic and documentary film and photography on Indigenous peoples dating back to the early twentieth century, in which Indigenous people are often represented as part of “vanishing” cultures. Thus, in this article, I underscore the temporal interruptions that occur when ethnographic visual material of Indigenous peoples is put into the hands of contemporary Indigenous artists. I focus first on what it means to repurpose dehumanizing colonial archives and ask whether visual sovereignty is in fact possible within the archives. By analyzing the reappropriation of archival footage in the short films Mobilize by Caroline Monnet and Etlinisigu’niet (Bleed Down) by Jeff Barnaby, I elucidate how the filmmakers break with modes of colonial time through what I propose to call “reframings” that offer alternative ways of conceiving of time. By rehabilitating ethnographic images, these filmmakers refuse to project the material into the distant past and complicate the readability of Indigenous images in the archives, revealing how the reappropriation of old images can be just as powerful as the production of new ones.

Have you ever wanted to know which games to use in your classroom, library, or afterschool program, or even at home? Which games can help teach preschoolers, K-12, college students, or adults? What can you use for science, literature, or critical thinking skills? This book explores 100 different games and how educators have used the games to teach - what worked and didn't work and their tips and techniques. The list of 100 goes from A to Z Safari to Zoombinis, and includes popular games like Fortnite, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, and Minecraft, as well as PC, mobile, VR, AR, card and board games.

"Afterlives of Indigenous Archives offers a compelling critique of Western archives and their use in the development of “digital humanities.” The essays collected here present the work of an international and interdisciplinary group of indigenous scholars; researchers in the field of indigenous studies and early American studies; and librarians, curators, activists, and storytellers. The contributors examine various digital projects and outline their relevance to the lives and interests of tribal people and communities, along with the transformative power that access to online materials affords. The authors aim to empower native people to re-envision the Western archive as a site of community-based practices for cultural preservation, one that can offer indigenous perspectives and new technological applications for the imaginative reconstruction of the tribal past, the repatriation of the tribal memories, and a powerful vision for an indigenous future."

El siguiente artículo es una respuesta a la exposición de arte indígena contemporáneo Gran Chaco Gualamba. Arte, Cosmovisión, Soberanía (Chaco, Argentina; Julio de 2013). Sin desviarse de los propios objetivos de la muestra, problematiza la práctica curatorial como una forma de ver y mostrar a la producción artística de las poblaciones originarias como artefactos significantes íntimamente enlazados con sus formas de vida comunitaria -y no meramente obras de arte autónomas y asépticas de toda función social-. Contrastando las definiciones del equipo de curadoras, el corpus de obras expuestas y el discurso de pobladores originarios, se muestra que este intento por recuperar el nexo orgánico entre arte, cosmovisiones y vida en comunidad resulta trunco, dado que los propios pobladores originarios consideran esta vinculación como una circunstancia históricamente pretérita, previa a los procesos de colonización. Recuperando las luchas presentes de las comunidades, que a falta de ese pasado armonioso plantean su identidad como resistencia necesaria para un futuro distinto – mejor-. This work is a response to a contemporary indigenous art exhibition titled «Gran Chaco Gualamba - Arte, Cosmovisión, Soberanía» (Chaco, Argentina; July 2013). Consistent with the purposes of this exhibition, the article problematizes curatorial practice as a way to present the artistic production of the indigenous populations as significant artifacts intimately involved in the daily community life, and not merely as autonomous artistic objects with no social function. By contrasting the definitions provided by the curatorial team,the corpus of artworks exhibited and the native peoples’ speech, the article shows how the exhibit fails to recover the link between art, cosmovisions and community life because the native populations themselves consider these three spheres as an outdated historical circumstance, previous to the colonization processes. Finally, the current struggles of the communities are mapped which, in the absence of that harmonious past, pose their identity as a necessary resistance for a better future.

Le travail de l’artiste huron-wendat Pierre Sioui est assez méconnu au Québec. Prolifique dans les années 1980 et ayant exposé aux quatre coins du Canada ainsi qu’aux États-Unis, Sioui a ensuite totalement disparu du milieu des arts contemporains autochtones. Une relecture du travail de cet artiste permet de redécouvrir un créateur fascinant tout à fait inscrit dans les préoccupations esthétiques et politiques de sa décennie. Sioui semble surtout avoir employé sa démarche artistique au service d’une redécouverte de son identité et de ses racines. Il l’a fait par le biais de recherches à la fois théoriques, cosmologiques et esthétiques des valeurs et de la culture huronne, le conduisant vers une thématique entourant principalement le sens des rituels, la mort et le cycle de la vie. Tous ces vieillards dans ses oeuvres, ces cadavres, ces ossements et ces crânes, parlent de relations entre mort et renaissance, entre colonialisme puis réappropriation, et semblent être pour Sioui une véritable trame créatrice à renouveler sans cesse.

James Brady was a mid twentieth-century Indigenous political organiser, trapper, prospector, writer, and intellectual. He was also a prolific photographer. This article considers the significance and aesthetics of Brady’s photographic archive through the lens of Indigenous visual sovereignty. Brady was Métis - one of Canada’s three recognised Indigenous peoples along with First Nations and Inuit. The Métis engaged in two conflicts with the Canadian state and negotiated the entry of a province into confederation. For a significant period of history, they lived outside Canadian infrastructures, whether the system of First Nations’ reserves created in the post-treaty era or Euro-Canadian settlements. Particularly vulnerable to land loss and displacement, the Métis were in desperate condition when Brady first began travelling with his camera. Brady’s photographs document the political rebirth of Métis people and the resilience and persistence of Métis communities in northern Alberta and Saskatchewan. They bear photographic witness to the lived experience of sovereignty rooted to place and continue to resonate with his subjects and their descendants

Mapping Modernisms" brings together scholars working around the world to address the modern arts produced by indigenous and colonized artists. Expanding the contours of modernity and its visual products, the contributors illustrate how these artists engaged with ideas of Primitivism through visual forms and philosophical ideas. Although often overlooked in the literature on global modernisms, artists, artworks, and art patrons moved within and across national and imperial borders, carrying, appropriating, or translating objects, images, and ideas. These itineraries made up the dense networks of modern life, contributing to the crafting of modern subjectivities and of local, transnationally-inflected modernisms. Addressing the silence on indigeneity in established narratives of modernism, the contributors decenter art history's traditional Western orientation and prompt a re-evaluation of canonical understandings of twentieth-century art history. 'Mapping Modernisms' is the first book in Modernist Exchanges, a multivolume project dedicated to rewriting the history of modernism and modernist art to include artists, theorists, art forms, and movements from around the world."

"Art for a New Understanding, an exhibition from Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art that opened in October 2018, seeks to radically expand and reposition the narrative of American art since 1950 by charting a history of the development of contemporary Indigenous art from the United States and Canada, beginning when artists moved from more regionally-based conversations and practices to national and international contemporary art contexts. This accompanying book documents and expands on the histories and themes of this exciting exhibition. This fully illustrated volume includes essays by art historians and historians and reflections by the artists included in the collection. Also included are key contemporary writings--from the 1950s onward--by artists, scholars, and critics, investigating the themes of transculturalism and pan-Indian identity, traditional practices conducted in radically new ways, displacement, forced migration, shadow histories, the role of personal mythologies as a means to reimagine the future, and much more. As both a survey of the development of Indigenous art from the 1950s to the present and a consideration of Native artists within contemporary art more broadly, Art for a New Understanding expands the definition of American art and sets the tone for future considerations of the subject. It is an essential publication for any institution or individual with an interest in contemporary Native American art, and an invaluable resource in ongoing scholarly considerations of the American contemporary art landscape at large."

"Although the fields of media studies and digital humanities are both well established, their overlaps have not been examined in depth. This comprehensive collection fills that gap, giving students, scholars, and media studies practitioners a cutting-edge guide to understanding the array of methodologies and projects operating at the intersection of digital humanities, computing, and culture. Topics covered include: networks; interfaces; media and culture at scale; procedures, programming, code; memory, digitization, and new media; and hacking, queering, and bending."--Provided by publisher

Ce mémoire se penche sur la diffusion de l'art contemporain autochtone au Québec de 1967 à 2013. Grâce à un corpus constitué de 640 expositions comprenant au moins un artiste des Premières Nations, métis ou inuit s'étant tenues quelque part dans la province à l'intérieur de ces 46 années, il a été possible de dresser un portrait global raisonné de ce qui s'est fait – ou ne s'est pas fait – concrètement, au-delà des a priori maintes fois reconduits. Il démontre, par exemple, que la décennie 1990 n'a pas été si « désertique » qu'il n'y parait, mais que la période 2000-2013, malgré son apparente vigueur, cache plusieurs dynamiques à l'œuvre au Québec rendant la reconnaissance et l'intégration des artistes autochtones dans le grand réseau des arts contemporains encore difficile. Ce mémoire apporte un éclairage sur le rôle marquant joué par les réseaux parallèles dans la diffusion de l'art contemporain autochtone, celui, parfois novateur, joué par les musées d'histoire et d'ethnographie ainsi que par les musées au sein même des communautés autochtones, puis la fermeture bien visible des institutions d'art du Québec jusqu'au milieu des années 2000. Il met également en lumière la présence de solitudes existantes au Québec, c'est-à-dire celle qui opère une division entre les artistes autochtones francophones et anglophones, favorisant grandement ces derniers, ainsi qu'entre artistes autochtones versus allochtones, les deux se mélangeant encore difficilement au sein des expositions. Enfin, ce mémoire permet de constater qu'en quatre décennies, le nombre d'artistes autochtones pratiquant de manière professionnelle au Québec n'a cessé d'augmenter, que Montréal s'est inscrite de plus en plus comme une métropole pouvant attirer des artistes autochtones de calibre national et international, que certaines régions du Québec, comme le Saguenay et l'Abitibi, ont, contrairement à d'autres, fait preuve d'une ouverture certaine face à l'art autochtone, mais également qu'il y a eu – et qu'il y a peut-être encore – une corrélation entre événements festifs et expositions accrues d'art contemporain autochtone, ce qui a tendance à le garder dans le domaine du folklore au Québec, et nuire véritablement à la reconnaissance des artistes professionnels.

La nation huronne-wendat de Wendake (Lorette, Québec) a maintenu sa culture et son identité pendant des siècles, souvent en dépit de, et en résistance contre les pressions occasionnées par la présence missionnaire et les politiques coloniales. Cette survivance est tributaire de savoirs, de valeurs et de coutumes transmis de génération en génération. Cet article explore l'art de la communauté wendat et ses éléments constitutifs : la fabrication d'objets, la tradition orale, l'engagement actif des membres de la collectivité dans les pratiques traditionnelles, ainsi que l'adaptation des pratiques ancestrales aux préoccupations actuelles. Il montre comment la production artistique wendat, dans sa force expressive, contribue à la continuité et cohésion sociale de la nation wendat.

Le modernisme en art est souvent considéré comme un développement spécifiquement occidental. Robert Houle, l'artiste, écrivain et commissaire d'exposition d'origine Saulteaux, a cependant toujours soutenu que sa propre pratique est moderniste et qu'elle suit une filiation esthétique autochtone. Cet article s'intéresse particulièrement à une œuvre produite par Houle en 1994, Premises for Self Rule, dans laquelle l'artiste a juxtaposé des textes de législation coloniale à des panneaux peints en monochrome et des cartes postales trouvées en archives. Il propose qu'à travers cette stratégie de rapprochement, l'artiste fusionne la tradition de la peinture de parflèche à l'esthétique moderniste, remettant ainsi en lumière la négociation interculturelle, l'amnésie coloniale, ainsi que les écarts qui séparent les épistémologies et traditions artistiques des peuples autochtones et allochtones

Les porte-bébés et les paniers d'écorce autochtones sont, en tant que réceptacles, conçus pour porter et tenir. Outre cette fonction, ils sont aussi détenteurs d'histoires, de mémoire, et de liens familiaux. Créés individuellement et ornementés avec soin, ces objets constituent une sorte de portrait des femmes qui les ont produits, ainsi que des générations qui ont hérité des pratiques et des motifs servant à les fabriquer. En élargissant la définition de la notion de portrait de famille, cet article considère deux objets provenant de Bear Island, en Ontario. Le premier est un porte-bébé ayant appartenu à Madeline Katt Theriault, et le deuxième est un panier d'écorce vraisemblablement créé parson arrière-grand-mère Angele Katt. Par leur parenté, ces réceptacles englobent une histoire multigénérationnelle qui s'étend de l'arrière-grand-mère à son arrière-petite-fille

Les projets d'expositions archivistiques—et leur documentation—sont des lieux de production de connaissances en histoire de l'art, ainsi que des interventions politiques, qui placent les documents dans un autre contexte afin d'interroger les canons et les façons de voir des colonialistes-colons. À partir de ces relations discursives, visuelles et archivistiques, cet article examine deux rétrospectives solos des œuvres sculptées et peintes des artistes modernistes kwakwaka'wakws, Doug Cranmer ('Namgis) et Henry Speck (Tlawit'sis), présentées à Vancouver en 2012. En considérant comment les conservateurs ont fait appel aux archives familiales intimes et à des documents du domaine public, il traite de l'utilité des archives du modernisme pour activer des liens affectifs, ancestraux et familiaux au-delà des modes de compréhension canoniques et historiques des mouvements esthétiques et des contextes de production

Between 1974 et 1996, the Canadian artist of Mexican origin Domingo Cisneros was seen as a leading figure in contemporary art in Canada. He played a major role in the process of self-determination that First Nations artists undertook following the infamous 1969 White Paper, the Statement of the Government of Canada on Indian Policy. Cisneros was recognized both in the Native and Quebec francophone contemporary art worlds, and was internationally acclaimed within the conceptual and contextual art milieu gathered around the Polish artist Jan Swidzinski. His contribution has nevertheless been forgotten. Coinciding with his seventy-fifth birthday, this article aims to review, conceptually frame, and contextualize Cisneros’s role and impact on the Canadian art scene. It argues that his interdisciplinarity, or “indiscipline,” was instrumental in building connexions and bridges between heterogeneous values, cultural protocols, and epistemological principles.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: As I sit writing in my kitchen while the forces of the U.S. military state are brought to bear on thousands of Standing Rock water stewards and land protectors and their allies in Cannonball, North Dakota, I consider how this sail special issue on digital Indigenous studies not only represents a collection of essays about the critical work Indigenous women are performing in their various digital projects but also illustrates that these online “Indigenous territories” (Hearne), crafted on social media platforms such as Twitter and Facebook, save lives. Every single day since the protectors first gathered to oppose the proposed 1,170-mile Dakota Access pipeline (a project that would potentially contaminate the Missouri watershed and the Ogallala Aquifer and desecrate Dakota sacred sites), digital independent and social media have constantly covered the story. At least 1.3 million Facebook users checked in virtually at Oceti Sakowin and other Indigenous camps and communities to ensure that support presence is recognized, while the world monitors the presence of the military and police force gathering at the construction site to curb further violence. The Standing Rock gathering offers hope to networked Indigenous youth, a demographic between three and ten times as likely to commit suicide than the national average peer rate. The Nodapl action in the Indigenous imaginary is an invitation to stand at the front lines of a global movement to protect water and land resources for all living beings on this planet and to draw attention to and support those whose lives and ways of being are in peril through overt military action and consequential environmental destruction. It is also an occasion, in the words of Jolene Rickard, “to invest in the apparatus of the imagination” (Bernardin). One need only look at the online art, handwritten signs, and logos representing #nodapl, #standingrock, [End Page 172] #waterislife, and #rezpectourwater to see the ways in which Indigenous artists are creatively and powerfully envisioning this movement, most often immersed with work that features strong images of Native women and girls, the community backbone and life force. Or we need only view digital videos like computer animator and artist Joseph Erb’s black-and-red graphic history of Standing Rock, “Mni Wiconi / Water Is Life” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXoy5lzpjiM), and first-person game platforms like Elizabeth LaPensée’s Thunderbird Strike, which extend the conversations at Standing Rock to the struggles over Enbridge’s Alberta tar sands pipeline and fracking practices as players work to undo and prevent further environmental degradation. Following Idle No More’s digital and geospatial (re)articulation of Indigenous territories, we are now living and loving and hoping in this historic moment as new ways of relating to one another and living in deep connection with the land and all its forms of life are being physiologically, intellectually, and spiritually forged at the geospatial confluence of the Missouri and Cannonball Rivers. They are being forged as well through the confluences of digital rivers on our electronic devices and in our online conversations about the beauty and devastation of the events that are unfolding in Standing Rock. Susan Bernardin’s essay in this issue on Heid E. Erdrich’s “Pre-Occupied” considers the meaning of rivers to Native peoples and contends that images of waterways, particularly the Mississippi, are mobilized “to make visible the continuing claims of this and other imperiled riverine systems.” In her introduction, Joanna Hearne asks us, “How might such an intersection of digital and Indigenous specificities take place in a way that is ‘native to the device’; that is, how might Indigenous specificity be embedded in shared platforms that are therefore central to all of our digital lives?” The essays in this special issue respond to this question by theorizing digital media in fresh and innovative ways. Many of us teach digital humanities courses or classes with strong digital media content, but we lack the language for critically engaging this new field on its own terms as it intersects, extends, and radically reconceptualizes more familiar research areas such as cinema studies, Indigenous / Native American studies, communication, literature, art, and history.

Les années 1990 sont une décennie cruciale pour l'avancement et le positionnement de l'art et de l'autonomie autochtones dans les récits dominants des états ayant subi la colonisation. Cet article reprend l'exposé des faits de cette période avec des détails fort nécessaires. Pensé comme une historiographie, il propose d'explorer chronologiquement comment les conservateurs et les artistes autochtones, et leurs alliés, ont répondu et réagi à des moments clés des mesures coloniales et les interventions qu'ellesontsuscitéesdu point de vue politique, artistique, muséologique et du commissariat d'expositions. À la lumière du 150e anniversaire de la Confédération canadienne, et quinze ans après la présentation de la communication originale au colloque, Mondialisation et postcolonialisme: Définitions de la culture visuelle v, du Musée d'art contemporain de Montréal, il reste urgent de faire une analyse critique des préoccupations contemporaines plus vastes, relatives à la mise en contexte et à la réconciliation de l'histoire de l'art autochtone sous-représentée.

Western art history long refused to recognize the historicity of Indigenous art, seeing it instead as a "primitive" mode of human expression. While the dynamism of Indigenous creation since the 1960s has made such an assertion impossible, the institutional recognition given contemporary Indigenous art in the art world is paradoxically accompanied by a lack of critical and theoretical analysis. Today, there is a genuine ignorance concerning Indigenous conceptions of history-their "regime of historicity"-on the part of Western art historians. This is all the more surprising given the recent "temporal turn" taken by the discipline, which emphasizes the question of mixed temporalities without acknowledging it as an essential dimension of Indigenous art. This paper revisits Western art history's long-standing denial of the historicity of Indigenous art, and then considers its current disregard for the ways Indigenous art allows different forms of temporality to coexist. The underlying thesis of the essay is that today's disinterest is, in fact, a prolongation of yesterday's denial.