Picking Up the Threads:
Materializing Family Histories

By
Michelle Sound Perich
BFA, Visual Arts, Simon Fraser University, 2003

A THESIS ESSAY SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE
REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
MASTER OF APPLIED ART
In
Visual Art

EMILY CARR UNIVERSITY OF ART + DESIGN
2011

© Michelle Sound Perich, 2011

ABSTRACT

This research project explores family history, craft materials, and how Aboriginal
women create meaning in the making of complex and beautiful functional objects
such as Pow-wow regalia and quilts. I reference the history and evolution of
regalia, beadwork and Aboriginal quilts as a means of examining hybridity as it
relates to material and cultural forms. As part of my methodology, hybridity and
authenticity will be discussed in relation to Homi Bhaba, James Clifford and
Robert Young. Brian Jungen‟s use of mass-produced commodities in his work
and Faith Ringgold‟s “story quilts” are examined in the context of my material
practice. I examine Lori Blondeau and Sherman Alexie‟s critical use of humour
and pop culture to explore Aboriginal self-identity. Feminist examinations of
textile practices are related to quiltmaking and handicrafts. My own experience of
motherhood and its impact on my art practice is detailed. Drawing from archival
research and oral histories my own family history is threaded throughout the
thesis as I recover lost histories and knowledge.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. ii
TABLE OF
CONTENTS……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….iii
LIST OF FIGURES…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………iv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS……………………………………………………………………………………………………………vi
DEDICATION……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………vii
QUOTATION…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… viii
CHAPTER 1 Introduction………………………………………………………………………………1
CHAPTER 2 Dances with Care Bears…………………………………………………. 6
CHAPTER 3 Hybrids……………………………………………………………………………………..13
CHAPTER 4 Humour………………………………………………………………………………………9
CHAPTER 5 Materials and Motherhood……………………………………………….24
CHAPTER 6 Fancy Dancing, Fabric, and Feminism………………………29
CHAPTER 7 Narrative Threads………………………………………………………………….39

WORKS CITED……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 48

WORKS CONSULTED ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….53

iii

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure.1:
Michelle Sound Perich, Self-portrait as my mother Theresa Joan Sound 19561987, 2001. Each photo 1”x 1 ½”. Used by permission of the artist.
Figure.2:
Michelle Sound Perich, Dances with Care Bears, 2010. Installation view.
Dimensions variable. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.
Figure. 3:
Michelle Sound Perich, Sparkle and Spin Installation View. 2010. Mixed Media,
Dimensions Variable. Photo: Karen Garret De Luna. Used by permission of the
artist.
Figure.4:
Lori Blondeau, Lonely Surfer Squaw, 1997.c-print. Image removed due to
copyright restrictions.
Figure.5:
Brian Jungen, Prototype for New Understanding #11 , 2002. Nike Air Jordans,
hair. 26 ½" × 23" × 10". Image removed due to copyright restrictions.
Figure.6:

Fancy Dancing Installation View. Lois Klassen and Michelle Sound Perich. Photo:
Karen Garrett De Luna. Used by permission of the artists.

Figure.7:
Michelle Sound Perich, (Untitled) Star Quilt, detail, 2010. Fabric, approx. 45”x
65”. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.
Figure.8:
Faith Ringgold. Bitter Nest #5: The Homecoming, 1988. Acrylic on canvas, tiedyed, pieced fabric border, 76 x 96". Image removed due to copyright restrictions.
Figure. 9:
Michelle Sound Perich, Fluid. 2010. Photo and Inkjet print on paper. 8”x10”.
Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.
Figure.10:
Michelle Sound Perich. Searching, detail. 2011. Inkjet and Post-it notes on paper.
3‟x4‟. Photo by artist. Used by permission of artist.

iv

Figure.11:
Michelle Sound Perich. Searching, detail. 2011. Inkjet and marker on paper.
4‟x3‟. Photo by artist. Used by permission of artist.
Figure.12:
Michelle Sound Perich, work in progress, Untitled Census Quilt, 2011. Fabric and
ink. Dimensions unknown. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.

v

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my supervisors Brenda Crabtree and Ingrid Koenig for their
feedback and support. I express my thanks to Karolle Wall and Megan Smetzer
for their input and advice. Thank you to my instructors Ben Reeves and Randy
Lee Cutler. Thanks to all of my classmates, especially Lois Klassen and Karen
Garrett de Luna for their support and the occasional Ethan-sitting.

Much gratitude is given to my mother, Elizabeth Perich.

Edson Fernandez, I thank you for all your love and encouragement sent from
3000 miles away.

Lastly, I would like to acknowledge Theresa Sound, Della Sound, and Julienne
Courtoreille.

vi

DEDICATION

For Ethan Mateo

vii

Culture and Identity are in a constant state of flux;
new forms created today are becoming the culture
of our grandchildren-hybridized, infused and
mixed with older „traditions‟. We continue to shift,
grow and change. Whether the influences are hip
hop or country music, the roots of the expression
go back to cultural story, indigenous language,
land and rights, and the spirit of our ancestors.
Tania Willard, Beat Nation, 2010.

viii

Chapter 1 Introduction

I was 14 at the time of the treaty. I was taking care
of my younger brothers and sisters as my mother had died. Our
father was dead also. The people at the time were told to do
anything to make a livelihood. I was a Métis until I married,
then I became a treaty. I was 17 when I took a husband. My
father had a land title to which I am supposed to have
possession but I never bothered.
The life was easier then. Today, you have to pay for
everything and it is hard. There ain't much I can tell you
since my ancestors were more concerned with their livelihood
and never told me much.

Julienne Courtoreille, aged 87. 1972.

These words spoken by my great-kokum (grandmother) elicit complex
emotions and responses. In 1972 she gave an interview relating what she
remembered about Treaty Number Eight. The treaty was signed in 1899 and
covers most of northern Alberta and some parts of northeast British Columbia
and it includes the Swan River reserve where my mother‟s family is from. Until I
showed my mom this interview she did not know that my great-kokum was a

Métis, with no rights and no land. When she married she became a Treaty Status
Indian1, gaining some rights and some land. My great-kokum made moccasins,
she tanned the skins and crafted them by hand. Some people remember her
doing beadwork, some people don‟t. Nobody saved any of her moccasins or
beadwork. When her kokum died my mother kept her cast-iron pot and a wool
blanket. When my kokum died I kept her beaded rosary. My mom always told me
that my moosum (grandfather) signed away his Treaty rights, gave up his Indian
Status, became enfranchised, and became a Canadian citizen. He did this so his
children would not be taken from him and sent to Residential school. The year
was 1944. His record of Enfranchisement on the Library and Archives Canada
Database (www.collectionscanada.gc.ca) lists him as J.M. (Jean-Marie) Sowan.
To all who knew him he was Sam Sound. My mom says he would always tell her
his name was also Jean-Marie and the Indian agent changed his last name to
Sound.

Though archival research and oral stories “validate” my family history, a
sense of loss and disconnection has, and continues, to resonate throughout my
practice and my research. During my undergraduate studio work I began to
explore my Aboriginal identity in drawings and paintings often focusing on my
own family. I began to make interventions using family snapshots, found objects
and written text to highlight the invisibility of Aboriginal people in a contemporary
1

Aboriginal, Native and First Nations will be used interchangeably throughout this paper.
Whenever possible, if a writer or artist is Aboriginal, I will use their specific tribal affiliation. The
term “Indian” will only be used if the writer I am referencing uses it.

2

urban context. In several pieces I placed myself in the work in an attempt to
subvert or question the stereotypes of Aboriginal representation and my own
“authenticity”. Cynthia Chavez Lamar explains that “Native cultural authenticity is
typically linked to ideas about physical appearance and blood quantum
requirements” (5). I am considered too pale to be Aboriginal and often am asked
to clarify my ancestry, my hybridity, my authenticity. My mother is Cree and my
father is Métis and French/Irish. My mother, Elizabeth Perich, is my maternal aunt
and raised me from birth and I did not have any contact or knowledge of my
biological father or his family. My biological mother, Theresa Sound, often
featured in my previous work as I attempted to make a connection to her through
her image. In a piece titled Self-portrait as my mother Theresa Joan Sound 1956-

1987 (figure1) I had myself photographed as her in a re-enactment of a photo
booth portrait taken when she was about sixteen.

Fig.1: Michelle Sound Perich, Self-portrait as my mother Theresa Joan Sound
1956-1987, 2001. Each photo 1”x 1 ½”. Used by permission of the artist.
3

I was often struck by my physical similarity to her and a longing to know who she
was. Through my practice I struggled to comprehend what larger societal factors
would have contributed to her death from alcoholism at the age of thirty.

Three weeks before I turned thirty I gave birth to my son and this made
me feel even more alienated from my mother and her life. I fully realized how
young she was when she died and that she would never see any of her
grandchildren. Later that year I finally connected with my father‟s family. I began
to learn about my lost heritage, that my father‟s family is related to Chief Big
Bear2 and that they are Métis and French/Irish. The discovery of my ancestry has
encouraged me to learn more about Métis art forms and the influence of Irish and
French settlers on traditional indigenous art forms. The loss of personal and
cultural connections and histories are what continue to inform my current
practice.

In order to understand my practice and the ideas that inform it, this thesis
explores my personal experiences and stories as well as postcolonial theories of
hybridity and ambivalence. As part of my methodology the postcolonial writings of
Homi Bhabha, James Clifford and Robert Young are investigated as they relate
2

Big Bear was a Cree chief who refused to sign Treaty No. 6. He made alliances with surrounding
Aboriginal bands and attempted to have all their reserves beside each other. The Government
refused as it would have created a large Aboriginal territory. During the 1885 Métis rebellion some
of his warriors killed Anglo-settlers at Frog Lake. Big Bear did not participate, and had tried to
prevent the murders, but was sentenced to three years in prison. For more information see Rudy
Wiebe, Big Bear, 2008

4

to my own practice. My current work references the history and evolution of
beadwork, regalia and Aboriginal quilts as a means of examining hybridity as it
relates to material and cultural forms. I draw on the writing of Racette and Alexie
to further explore the importance of Aboriginal women‟s material creations.
To contextualize my practice, I look to contemporary artists, Brian Jungen and
Lori Blondeau, both of whom have also explored their Aboriginal heritage in their
work. Since my practice has moved from a photographic and performative art
practice, I look at Faith Ringgold‟s “story quilts” in the context of quiltmaking and
cultural connections. More generally, feminist examinations of textile practices
specifically quiltmaking and handicrafts are explored in the context of my work.
Motherhood and my own family history have informed my practice in deeply
significant ways. Drawing from archival research and oral histories my personal
history and experiences are threaded throughout this thesis as I recover lost
histories and knowledge.

.

5

Chapter 2 Dances with Care Bears

In the fall of 2009 when I began the Master of Applied Art program at
Emily Carr University I was interested in researching the complex history of trade
between First Nations and Anglo-settlers. My work was informed by and
referenced traditional Aboriginal imagery and practices and I began researching
the history of beadwork and Pow-wow regalia. I began making sketches and
paintings of abstracted beadwork designs. I was interested in how beadwork,
using glass or plastic beads, is viewed as a quintessentially Aboriginal artwork
but is a non- indigenous European trade item. During the nineteenth century
Indigenous materials such as porcupine quills and shells were replaced with
glass beads and geometric designs were changed to floral motifs. Because of its
complex history beadwork is still a form of language and storytelling in that it
conveys and consolidates identity. Racette points out that “one of the marks of a
vibrant art tradition is continued innovation and creativity” (Looking 302).

I produced a photo collage of floral beadwork designs that were
arranged to spell out the Cree word “Atamewak” which translates to “trade” or
“they are buying from them”. I felt that my work was often too focused on either
my own personal history or Aboriginal history and I wanted to challenge myself to
represent present day realities that did not visually represent myself or my family.

6

I wanted to shift my focus to contemporary examples of Aboriginal
material culture that was clearly recognizable and continued a history of
innovation and hybridization. As a child I often went to Pow-wows and
contemporary regalia made of shiny, bright colours and sometimes even cartoon
characters came to mind. Regarding the use of non-indigenous images on regalia
Cree writer Richard William Hill states “what some see as commercial
contamination is a brilliant appropriation where an image has been repurposed
and a tradition has found new territory in which to live and grow” (10). As a
contemporary First Nations‟ cultural movement the Pow-wow is a venue for
cultural expression and celebration. It is a combination of the ceremonial and the
secular. Although Pow-wow performances feature traditional dances and are a
part of spiritual ceremonies; including preparations for war, healing rituals, or
victory celebrations, current Pow-wow dances have changed with the times.
Regalia has become more flamboyant and colourful as it is important to attract
attention when dancers compete for prizes (Valaskakis 153-55).

In a contemporary context regalia reflects complex social changes and
evolution within Aboriginal culture. The past several decades mark a shift from
traditional Pow-wow regalia made from animal hides to the use of synthetic cloth
and the incorporation of pop images. Contemporary Pow-wow regalia is a
continuation of a long history of appropriation and innovation within Aboriginal
communities. Art historian Ruth Phillips argues that Aboriginal clothing after
European contact should be considered as the “materialization of negotiation and

7

inventions that occurred in the process of its fabrication” (Phillips 606). Through
my practice I seek to understand how traditional knowledges are negotiated and
transformed in contemporary forms such as regalia.

My practice is fueled by an interest in playful contradictions and fusions
rather than in the imposed cultural binaries, discussed below, that do not reflect
my experiences. When I decided to work with the materials and imagery from
Pow-wow regalia I wanted to combine them with a stereotypical Aboriginal
consumer item. I chose to work with dreamcatchers as they are also a handicraft
traditionally made by Aboriginal women. Dreamcatchers are believed to have
originated with the Ojibway Nation, and they were adopted in 1960-70s as a
symbol of pan-Indian unity across North America. However, they have recently
been derided as "tacky" and over-commercialized, especially as most of them are
being manufactured and sold by non-Natives. Traditionally dreamcatchers were
crafted by tying sinew strands in a web around a small round or tear-shaped
frame of willow and hung above the bed to protect sleeping children from
nightmares. The bad dreams become trapped in the web and only the good
dreams filter through and are remembered in the morning.

I decided to make dreamcatchers not only to critique and emphasize the
tacky and over-commercialized aspect but also to create hybrid objects to
comment on the continued incorporation of new materials within Aboriginal
communities. The ubiquitous and highly commercialized dreamcatchers are

8

made in China and sold in dollar stores. Alternatively, they are crafted by First
Nations and sold at Pow-wows. My series of dreamcatchers and spirit shields
highlights the commercialization and pushes it into mockery with its‟ excessive
“bigger is better” gaudiness.

In the spring of 2010 I began to create Dances with Care Bears (figure 2)
large scale, oversized dreamcatchers made from various sized hula hoops that
are wrapped with bright ribbon and artificial fur. The dreamcatcher web is made
from synthetic thread or yarn and strung with plastic beads. For the „spirit
shields‟ I attached to a hoop a circle of fabric printed with cartoon characters; the
Care Bears, or Disney princesses; Snow White, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel the
little mermaid, and Cinderella, reminiscent of the materials in contemporary
regalia. Attached to the bottom of the hoop are ribbons decorated with bright
plastic beads and feathers.

9

Fig.2: Michelle Sound Perich, Dances with Care Bears, 2010. Installation view.
Dimensions variable. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.

10

For the December 2010 group exhibition Sparkle and Spin I constructed
two dreamcatcher style hanging pieces from a black metal wreath shape (figure
3). This Ikea Christmas decoration was covered in white LED lights and I
attached brightly coloured ribbons strung with plastic beads and feathers to the
bottom half. Secwepemc artist and curator Tania Willard affirms;
Our ancestors must be dancing for us. To see our
culture thrive and survive they must be dancing to our
beats. Like the beats of our sacred drums, we echo
our ancestors in the expression of culture regardless
of medium, whether electronic beats or skins, natural
pigments or neon spray cans, beads or bling,
breakdancing or round dancing: we do it as an
expression of who we are as indigenous peoples (7).

My series Dances with Care Bears is part of this contemporary expression which
continues a long history of Aboriginal artistic adaptation and innovation. Richard
William Hill observes that Aboriginal artists playfully confront the seeming
disjunction between present-day and “traditional” materials (9). My work
continues the use of new images and materials to comment on the contemporary
and complex world we live in.

11

Figure: 3. Michelle Sound Perich, Sparkle and Spin Installation View. 2010.
Mixed Media, Dimensions Variable. Photo: Karen Garret De Luna. Used by
permission of the artist.

12

Chapter 3 Hybrids

The use of new media and imagery within Aboriginal communities is a
visual representation of the ambivalent experience of Aboriginals regarding
Anglo-settler culture. Ambivalence is defined as “the coexistence within an
individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or
action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions” (MerriamWebster). Cultural theorist Homi K. Bhabha further describes ambivalence as a
complex mix of attraction and repulsion that characterizes the relationship
between the colonizer and the colonized. The relationship is ambivalent because
the colonized subject is never completely opposed to the colonizer and that
complicity and resistance exist simultaneously within the colonized subject (412).

Ambivalence can be seen in the use of new materials, techniques, and
images for traditional arts. It is further seen in the appropriation of Anglo-Settler
quilts that have gained new meanings within Aboriginal communities and often
became symbols of status. The use of new materials reflects creativity and
innovation but often signals a loss of indigenous media and techniques. Métis
artist and writer Sherry Farrell Racette highlights the importance Aboriginal
women played in the creation of material culture “Women‟s artistic work gives
evidence to the critical role they played in integrating new materials and ideas…”
(285). She argues that Aboriginal “material culture is an artistic record of media
and technique, these objects are encoded with knowledge, they are the raw

13

material of women‟s history” (285). This seeming complicity was also a form of
resistance as it allowed artistic traditions to continue and often provided
economic survival.

Arts identified with women have often been neglected as much of the art
is considered craft and not the traditional male–dominated “fine art” such as
sculpture, painting and drawing. There are several female artists whose work has
had an impact on my own, however there is not a lot of literature about these
artists as their practice is considered craft based. For example Cree artist Ruth
Cuthand‟s 2008 series Trading consists of mixed media works that depict viruses
and disease in beadwork. Despite being recently acquired by the MacKenzie Art
Gallery I could only find one article about this piece. My research concerning
beadwork and trade is directly related to Cuthand‟s own investigation. She states
that “the series examines both sides of European trade, which brought new items
that revolutionized Aboriginal life [...] the downside was the decimation of many
tribes through disease, which quickly spread, arriving even before Europeans”
(Robertson). Cuthand‟s work is an example related to Cherokee writer and
curator Rayna Green observation that “Native artists often acknowledge and
critique in visual representation, the tragedies, cultural hybrids, fusions, and
cultural collisions common to their history in North America” (12). The work of
Aboriginal artists, particularly women, often reflects and explores the themes of
ambivalence and hybridity.

14

Post colonial theorist Robert Young writes that the idea of hybridity
developed out of the field of biology to define the offspring of two different, but
related animals. The word was later used in the 19th century as an argument
against miscegenation between African slaves and their owners of European
descent and other “mixed race” peoples. The term has also been used to
describe objects and cultural practices exhibiting signs of both Euro-American
and indigenous communities (158-9). Hybridity commonly refers to the
emergence of new cultural forms from multiculturalism within the contact zone
produced by colonization. Bhabha„s analysis of colonial relations stresses the
interdependence and mutual construction of both subjectivities (42-3). While I
acknowledge that the word has negative connotations, I will continue to use it
throughout this thesis as I have not found an alternative that best describes my
experience as a mixed race Aboriginal or the fusions and “mash ups” present in
my art practice.

Cultural theorist Bill Ashcroft states that “the colonial hybrid is an
articulation of the ambivalent space where the rite of power is enacted on the site
of desire” (137). He further explains that hybridity allows a means of evading the
continuation of the binary categories of the past and develops new anti-monolithic
models of cultural exchange and growth. Ashcroft further states:
hybridity has sometimes been misinterpreted as
indicating something that denies the traditions from
which it springs, or as alternative and absolute

15

category to which all post-colonial forms inevitably
subscribe, but [….] is not predicated upon the idea of
the disappearance of independent cultural traditions
but rather on their continual and mutual development
(138).

Certainly this is evident in the shifts in the material production within Aboriginal
communities.

The use of new materials and motifs, plastic buttons instead of shells,
beadwork for quillwork, cloth and blankets for hides, is in fact innovation and
adaptation and not a loss of authenticity. There are numerous historical examples
where European products were modified and used for their aesthetic qualities,
and Aboriginal artist Brian Jungen questions why in Northwest Coast art “this
component of history is not 'revived' in today's carving and regalia” (Augaitis 20).
Richard William Hill cites Cherokee artist Jimmie Durham who has noted that this
notion of authenticity is ultimately a way of keeping Aboriginal people in their
place and out of the larger world. This process is expedited when we internalize
this external discourse of authenticity and begin to regulate our own identities
accordingly (9).

16

The authenticity of both the maker and the art piece are questioned and
needed to be validated or accepted. Aboriginal artists have always had to explain
their lineage and ancestry. Aboriginal curator Cynthia Chavez Lamar states in

Art in Our Lives; Native Women Artists in Dialogue that “…artists with mixed
heritage felt their identities being defined by rigid ideas of authentic Native
identity…” (Lamar 5). From a personal standpoint, I have explored the reactions
to and expectations of my own ancestry within my own work. I further question
the idea of authenticity in a larger context in my current work Dances with Care

Bears. Are dreamcatchers considered authentic when they are made in China or
when an Aboriginal person uses non-indigenous synthetic materials?

Historically there has been an emphasis on pre-contact traditional art
forms that attempt to keep artists and Aboriginal art forms in the past.
Contemporary Aboriginal artists frequently critique this imposed authenticity to
challenge stereotypes that do not reflect their experiences. Anthropologist James
Clifford argues in Indigenous Articulations that “authenticity is secondary” (182).
Articulation theory and hybridity are challenges to the relationship between
inauthenticity and the loss of tradition, because it recognizes that inventiveness is
a normal process of cultural continuity. As Clifford points out, since indigenous
cultures have been disrupted and assaulted it is important that “communities can
and must reconfigure themselves, drawing selectively on remembered parts”
(182). He further argues that concepts of authenticity and tradition are the
source of culture-making processes as “what is at stake is the power to define

17

tradition and authenticity, to determine the relationships through which native
identity is negotiated in a changing world” (183). Perceptions of authenticity and
tradition in Aboriginal art have been imposed from the outside, but it is the artistic
producers that should have the authority to define what is authentic.

18

Chapter 4 Humour

Humour is the language through which many Native artists communicate
and criticize, often juxtaposing the most culturally compelling of the tiresome
“Indian” images with the most mainstream and popular icons to create a layered
and complex commentary. In her essay, Teasing, Tolerating, Teaching, Métis
writer Kristina Fagen suggests that First Nations writers (and artists) use humour
to “subvert white society and to counter colonization and stereotypes” (24).
Humour offers a sense of relief and an acceptance of circumstances in the face
of threat or disaster and is utilized to deal with tragedy within Aboriginal culture.
Stories and jokes allow people to reach their own conclusions and see different
possible meanings, in a non-confrontational or didactic way. Humour can often
strip away the assumptions and stereotypes more effectively than by any other
means. Mimicry and mockery as described by Babha is an aspect of humour that
is utilized by Aboriginal artists. Bahba writes that colonialism wants the colonized
subject to reproduce the assumptions, habits, and values-to „mimic‟ the colonizer;
instead it produces ambivalent subjects whose mimicry is never very far from
mockery. The relationship between mockery and mimicry, the ambivalent, is
fundamentally unsettling to colonial dominance (41).

While humour is not applicable in all of my work I use it as a strategy similar
to the work of Cree artist Lori Blondeau. She utilizes humor to critique
mainstream representations and stereotypes of aboriginal women. Her practice

19

differs from my own as she is a performance artist who often creates characters
like Belle Sauvage and the lonely surfer squaw, but similar to my work she
explores the influence of popular culture on “Aboriginal self-identity, self-image
and self-definition” (Budney 28).

Image removed due to copyright restrictions.

Fig.4: Lori Blondeau, Lonely Surfer Squaw, 1997. C-print.
In her photograph Lonely Surfer Squaw, (figure 4) she stands in the snow
wearing a fur bikini, holding a pink surfboard. She plays with Hollywood images of
female beauty and stereotypes of Aboriginal women as „squaw‟ or „Indian
princess‟. I find that I am drawn to Blondeau‟s amusing use of materials and
colours, such as a fur bikini and a pink surfboard, juxtaposed with landscape and
non-functional objects. The Cree language has two categories of objects:
“oseechigun”, that which is created and “apucheechigun”, that which is useful. My
work plays with the idea of objects that are created and those which are useful.

Dances with Care Bears explores a similar aesthetic and amusement in the
absurdity of objects such as the large dreamcatchers hanging in a window or
surfing in freezing temperatures in a fur bikini.

Blondeau reminds us that parody can be a powerful force for challenging
and disempowering the inherited violence embedded in Western ways of

20

knowing the world (51). In relation to Blondeau‟s work art historian Lynne Bell
cites Dwight Conquergood who states the importance of “the carnivalesque over
the canonical, the transformative over the normative, and the mobile over the
monumental” (Bell 53). In Blondeau‟s Lonely Surfer Squaw, the insensitive and
marketed images of Indians and women converge in order to redeem both
(Green 14). Her use of pop culture imagery demonstrates what Rayna Green
describes as native artists not “living between two worlds” but instead they are
“multi-vocal and multi-culturally literate” (14). When Aboriginal artists use pop
culture it is a part of the culture they are already raised in and are as familiar with
them as their own traditions, sometimes even more so. Bell argues that
Blondeau‟s work addresses the continuing imperialism of present-day popular
culture while “imagination consorts with pleasure in her practice, but also with
grief, mourning, (and) pride…” (19). The use of humour to address grief is also
significant in the work of Sherman Alexie.

Resistance, usurping of authority and humour are all employed in the
writings of Spokane/Coeur d'Alene author Sherman Alexie. His short story What

You Pawn I Will Redeem tells the story of Jackson Jackson a homeless “Indian”
living in Seattle. He walks in and tells the owner that his grandmothers Pow-wow
regalia is in the pawnshop window. He tells the owner that it was stolen fifty years
ago and he can prove it was hers because she always added one yellow bead
where it did not belong. The pawnshop dealer tells him he can‟t just hand the
regalia back to Jackson because he paid one thousand dollars for it, but to be fair

21

he will sell it to him for nine hundred and ninety nine. For the next twenty four
hours Jackson has a series of misadventures trying to get the money, and thinks
often of his grandmother.

One exchange between Jackson and three homeless Aleuts begins with
Jackson longing for his grandmother;

I thought about my grandmother, I‟d never seen her
dance in her regalia. And more than anything, I
wished I‟d seen her dance at a Pow-wow.
“Do you guys know any songs?” I asked the Aleuts.
“I know all of Hank Williams,” the elder Aleut said.
“How about any Indian songs?‟
“Hank Williams is Indian.”
“How about sacred songs?”
“Hank Williams is sacred.”
“I‟m talking about the ceremonial songs. You know,
religious ones. The songs you sing back home when
you‟re wishing and hoping.”
“What are you wishing and hoping for?”
“I‟m wishing my grandmother was still alive.”
“Every song I know is about that.” (515-16).

22

Alexie uses humour throughout this dialogue and yet captures a sense of loss.
Similar to some of my work, which is discussed below, Alexie expresses the
importance of material culture to family and cultural connections.

Jackson explains that his grandmother always added the out of place
yellow bead “because they (artists) don‟t want to be perfect, because only God is
perfect, Indian people sew flaws into their powwow regalia” (501). The concept of
having flaws within artwork appeals to me as I am not concerned with the
perfection or mastery of a technique. This idea is also echoed by artist Ruth
Cuthand who states, “I just don‟t practice the European ideal of perfecting the
one thing. It doesn‟t apply to me. I guess I‟m A.D.D. or curious. I need to learn
new skills so I‟m never bored” (Robertson). I am interested in learning new skills
and experimenting with new materials that are not confined to the studio but also
becomes a part of my daily life.

23

Chapter 5 Materials and Motherhood

Tourist souvenirs, advertising and Hollywood Films, often portray
Aboriginals as images to be consumed and not as consumers themselves. My
work involves the gathering of many materials, and unlike my great kokum who
would have gathered and transformed natural materials from near her home, I
gather from the mall. Dunne-Za and Swiss artist Brian Jungen‟s work influences
my own practice as he also uses mass-produced objects in creating recognizable
First Nations forms and commodities. Comanche curator Paul Chaat Smith notes
in his essay Money Changes Everything that Jungen is not using „found‟ objects,
rather, he is shopping; “Jungen simply buys what he needs, in the same way and
at the same stores that you and I frequent” (6). In his series Prototypes for a

New Understanding (figure 5) Jungen recrafts disassembled Nike Air Jordan‟s‟
into sculptural objects evocative of the ceremonial masks of the Northwest coast
First Nations. The traditional masks serve a ceremonial purpose within Aboriginal
communities and have a long history as a trade item for collectors and tourists
that emphasize how First Nations' art is exoticized and commercialized. Jungen
mobilizes aesthetic cultural misunderstandings that politicize cultural stereotypes
in the age of globalization and "the way globalization has enticed non-western
subjects to commodify their cultural identity" (Augaitis 30).

24

Image removed due to copyright restrictions.

Figure: 5. Brian Jungen. Prototype for New Understanding #11, 2002. Nike Air
Jordans, hair. 26 ½" × 23" × 10".

While Jungen‟s work is influential in relation to my material practice his
work doesn‟t really address the aesthetics and materials I rely on in relation to my
position as a woman and mother. I have been exploring and researching feminist
art practices in terms of aesthetics, textiles, and under valued work. Feminist art
critic Lucy Lippard‟s 1978 essay Making Something from Nothing discusses the
use of “how-to” hobby books and women‟s desire to change and adorn the
physical space she is often isolated in, the home.
The hobby books reflect the manner in which Good
Taste is still unarguably set forth by the class system.
Different books are clearly aimed at different tastes,
aspirations, educational levels [….] working class
women are “presumed to respond to such (garish)

25

colours and to have no aesthetic appreciation of the
„intrinsic‟ superiority of natural materials over artificial
ones, not to mention an inability to afford them (135).

In my practice I am interested in subverting the expectation that Aboriginal art be
made from natural materials. Certainly Lippards argument that choice of
materials is determined by money is applicable to my own practice but her
emphasis on the issue of class is not necessarily relevant to all contemporary
artists. Brian Jungen and Faith Ringgold who will be discussed later in this thesis,
both illustrate the effectiveness of inexpensive and mass produced objects to
make art.

Lippard explains some of the history of inexpensive materials when she
writes “craftspeople from William Morris to the Russian constructivists have
dreamed of social utopias where everyone‟s life is improved by the cheap and
beautiful objects and environments” (128). The idea of inexpensive and beautiful
objects is critical to my current practice as the majority of my materials are bought
at fabric and dollar stores. The use of bright colours and cartoons is also
influenced by the fact that I grew up in the 1980s. My clothes were bright and
neon coloured and I was immersed in the pop culture of cartoons. The colours of
My Little Pony, Carebears, Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite entirely
surrounded me, as the characters were on my clothes, blankets, lunchbox,
knapsack, and toys. Although my son favours Toy Story, Dora the Explorer, and

26

Diego, I am once again saturated with cartoons. I am drawn to the materials I am
surrounded by as a mother, including cartoons and quilts (I was given several
handmade blankets when my son was born).

Becoming a mother has had the greatest impact on my studies and art
production. The week before I started the Masters program at Emily Carr, my
partner Edson was unexpectedly ordered to return to Mexico until his Permanent
Resident papers are approved by Immigration Canada. He has not been able to
return to Canada for the past nineteen months. Our son Ethan was two years and
six months when his dad left and is now four years old. Being a single mother and
having the full responsibility for raising Ethan has had a huge impact on my
experience with school, including financial difficulty and time-management. There
is no daycare available at Emily Carr and a lack of affordable daycare in
Vancouver means I rely on babysitters. I miss a lot of artist talks, and I can not
spend everyday in the studio like my classmates. Most of the time I work from
home, obviously not ideal, as there is not the space and Ethan is very distracting.
All these factors have forced me to change my work and methods drastically. My
materials have to be child safe, they have to be portable, and affordable. This is
my new context and methodology.

Motherhood has also led me to explore arts and handicrafts that are a
continuation of women‟s work. It has become a necessity within the past year to
create art that can be produced at home. Another motivation is that I also want to

27

reflect on the experience of being an Aboriginal female without using
representations of the body. Sherry Farrell Racette writes that Canadian Native
female artists „seem to gravitate towards specific genres, particularly
performance, photography, and film” (Fierce 49). Certainly my earlier
performative and photographic work, such as Self-portrait as my mother Theresa

Joan Sound 1956-1987 was influenced by such Aboriginal female artists. I have
since become more interested in exploring material culture.

28

Chapter 6 Fancy Dancing, Fabric, and Feminism

Figure.6: Fancy Dancing Installation View. Lois Klassen and Michelle Sound
Perich. Photo, Karen Garrett De Luna. Used by permission of the artists.

29

In the November 2010 Fancy Dancing (figure 6) exhibition at 1612 gallery
a sense of loss and dislocation was explored. I collaborated with fellow MAA
student Lois Klassen in an investigation of our childhood experiences and
memories of Pow-wows. Klassen reflected on her Mennonite background in
Saskatchewan and her family‟s history of attending Pow-wows at the nearby
Ojibway and Cree Peguis reserve. While I often attended Pow-wows as a child
and teenager, my work did not illustrate my past experiences, but instead
imagined a not too distant future.

The history of dance and Pow-wows on the prairies, where both our
families are from, is oppressive. An amendment in 1895 gave Indian agents on
the prairies the authority to suppress the grass dance, Pow-wows, and
giveaways. Dancing was viewed by the government as a direct opposition to their
planned transformation of Aboriginal people into a class of skilled servants,
labourers, and farmers (Racette, Looking 295). A 1914 amendment made it
illegal for any “Indian person” to make public appearances and take part in any
dance, performance, or stampede “in aboriginal costume” without the permission
of the Indian agent (Racette, Looking 295). An exception to this amendment was
that Aboriginals were encouraged and permitted to perform and dance at Anglosettler events such as Banff Days and the Calgary Stampede. The clothing that
was made and the crafts created “provided women with a rare artistic and cultural
outlet during an oppressive time…” (Racette, Looking 298). The connection
between dance, clothing, and loss on the prairies was explored in the exhibition

30

from different perspectives and experiences. With all the conflict and change
surrounding Pow-wows, the exhibition was also a celebration of its survival and
potential.

The installation included Dances with Care Bears , a storefront window
display of a collection of dreamcatchers bought at dollar stores, archival family
portraits, two wallpapered enlargements of 1960s Pow-wows, a Pow-wow dance
circle made of Astro-turf and several quilts. Through her Comforter Art Action
series Klassen frequently collaborates with others to make patchwork quilts that
are distributed to refugee camps. Klassen taught me how to construct a child
sized variation of a Star quilt as I had no previous sewing experience. I wanted to
further explore the notion of hybridity using forms that were not originally
identified as being Aboriginal and I began to research Native star quilts because
they were introduced by Anglo-settlers but gained meaning over time for
Aboriginal people.

I am attracted to Native quilts as they are a hybridized form that has been
appropriated by Native women for their own purposes. In To Honor and Comfort:

Native Quilting Traditions Marsha MacDowell outlines the history of Aboriginal
quiltmaking. The art of quilt making was introduced by European women in the
nineteenth century but utilized pre-existing sewing with sinew techniques where
small animal bones were used as needles and animal sinew as thread. Sewing

31

and quilt making were also taught to young girls in mission and residential
schools (MacDowell 5). Quilts continue to be used in Aboriginal communities to
honour others in naming ceremonies, to protect the drum in Pow-wows, or
celebrate a birth, or other rites of passage ceremonies. Beyond their utilitarian
and ceremonial functions Native women began to create quilts that were used to
“convey a sense of identity” The colours and designs used in the quilts can have
either specific tribal meanings or pan-Indian meanings. While star blankets were
introduced by non-Natives in the form of the “Texas” lone star quilt, they were
adapted into star patterns made from small diamond shapes instead of a small
trapezoid design. The depiction of stars was already present in pre-contact
artistic practices, such as drawings on buffalo hides, and reflects a continuation
of old imagery in new materials (MacDowell 5).

Unlike dreamcatchers, quilts have not been complicated by overcommercialization. Like Dances with Care Bears my (Untitled) Native Star Quilt
combines Aboriginal and pop culture imagery. The quilt features the colors of the
four directions, red, black, white and yellow overlaid with a star design made from
fabric patterned with cartoon characters (figure 7). The back is a full size image of
Disney‟s Sleeping Beauty printed on polar fleece.

32

Fig.7: Michelle Sound Perich, (Untitled) Star Quilt, detail, 2010. Fabric, approx.
45”x 65”. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.
My work complicates the relationship between quilts and honor or
ceremony and emphasizes contemporary experience and the fusion of often
conflicting worldviews that Aboriginal people negotiate. The concept of living in
“two worlds” reflected the experience of many Aboriginals who lived within their
own communities but were increasingly altered by Anglo-settler influence. Lamar
argues that this dichotomy no longer represents the variety of Native experiences
that include “many connections to different places, families, cultures, religions,
languages, (and) beliefs…” (4). As Pueblo artist Eliza Naranjo Morse further

33

states “There are not two worlds. There is just one world I‟m living in” (4). My star
quilt can be viewed as a visual representation of this rejection of „walking in two
worlds‟ and instead affirms the idea of a multi-vocal contemporary experience.

In her essay, Text and textiles: weaving across the borderlines , textile
artist and critic Janis Jeffries further suggests that the relationship between hybrid
forms and textiles forces
a dislocation with old forms in order to make explicit
old and new meanings. Consequently, hybrid forms
eclectically appropriate or replace, quote and parody,
contaminate and are contaminated by „other‟
traditions, languages, and gender inscriptions which
are in an uneasy and playfully, willful relationship to
the situation of postmodernism (166).

Jefferies discusses feminism in relation to artists who create new non-traditional
forms using textiles. Throughout history textile work has been perceived as
labour-intensive, slow and pain staking and yet is devalued as invisible woman‟s
work (164). Jeffries cites art critic and theorist Rosalind Krauss who argues that
“the production of hybrid forms overcomes and undermines gender inscriptions of
existing cultural languages…” (166). This is evident in the star blankets where an
Anglo-settler tradition of women quilting became a means for Aboriginal women
to visually represent and continue traditional beliefs.

34

According to Jeffries the mobilities of fabric are related to ideas of
„femininity as masquerade‟ which upset the idea of the singular to encompass
fractured, multiple, and precarious identities (164). The idea of fractured
identities is also represented in the star quilt, not only with the combination of
Aboriginal and pop culture imagery, but in the fractured images that make up the
star. As I began cutting and arranging the patterns for the star design I selected
cartoon fabrics as the largest pieces and then explored options with the
arrangement based on colour composition, alternating the purples and pinks for
example. I also attempted to ensure that two pieces that featured Disney
princesses were not side by side and were as evenly distributed as possible. The
second row of diamond pieces was a blue “Indian” bear cartoon. The third and
smallest diamond pieces were cartoons which I again arranged by colour with the
intention of separating the Disney princesses. The overall effect of the quilt is to
emphasize a personal and fragmented narrative that reflects my Aboriginal
identity, my childhood icons and my role as a mother.

African-American artist Faith Ringgold‟s work speaks to my own process in
terms of materials; textiles, beads, feathers, and a desire to understand
traditional arts that are related to culture, narrative and identity. Ringgold‟s use of
appropriation, pattern, sewing, history, personal narrative, African-American and
European-American artistic and cultural forms, rich textiles, and gorgeous colors,
are described as “a transgressive hybrid if ever there was one” (Farrington 1).

35

Ringgold‟s artistic practice has relevance to my work as she creates “story quilts”
(figure 8) which often combine representations of historical figures with her own
family and written texts that are based on her family‟s oral storytelling tradition
(Auther 116). Her choice of materials is similar to my own as “she gravitated to
materials like feathers, beads, sequins, and brocaded fabrics, despite the very
real possibility that her works might be perceived as “low” rather than “high” art”
(Farrington 66). Ringgold helped to lead both the black and feminist art
movements in the late 1960s and early 1970s (Farrington 4). Her work is often
included in the pattern and decoration movement which sought to deconstruct the
modernist and minimalist art works that marginalized decorative art. “Turning to a
method traditionally associated with „women‟s work,” Ringgold was able to affirm
her womanhood” (Farrington 66). Ringgold saw a link between her materials, the
quilt and her identity as a member of a global family of women who quilt (70).
Auther quotes a 1975 interview where Ringgold stated:
I don‟t want to be placed in the bag where I think all
art is about making something that nobody can move.
making some big, monumental, monolithic thing that I
can‟t even afford to do… Feminist art is soft art,
lightweight art, sewing art. This is the contribution
women have made that is uniquely theirs (105).

Ringgold stressed that she was a painter working in the medium of the quilt and
the insistence on her work as painting illustrates the difficulty feminist artists
faced in the creation of hybrid objects as a critique of art world boundaries or

36

hierarchies (Auther 7). Her rejection of boundaries between art and craft was a
rejection of Western and patriarchal definitions of art that limited her access to
artistic traditions important to her identity as an African-American woman and
artist (115). Ringgold‟s grandmother and great-grandmother were quilters; and
she often collaborated with her mother, a seamstress, in the production of her
„story quilts.‟ Ringgold‟s work could be viewed as a continuation of her family
traditions while mine is concerned with an attempt to make cultural connections
that were lost to me.

Image removed due to copyright restrictions.

Fig.8: Faith Ringgold. Bitter Nest #5: The Homecoming .1988 Acrylic on canvas,
tie-dyed, pieced fabric border, 76 x 96".

I have had to research and attain these skills as I had no experience with
quilt making or crafting traditional Aboriginal art. Through workshops at Emily

37

Carr‟s Aboriginal Gathering Place I have been introduced to the art and
technology of drum-making, beadwork, moose hair tufting, and cedar basketry.
These experiences have taught me new skills while connecting me with the
Aboriginal community at Emily Carr. It has also allowed me to identify new
associations within my practice, such as the similarity between the vivid synthetic
pom poms used in Dances with Care Bears and the pom poms created for moose
hair tufting.

38

Chapter 7 Narrative Threads

My mother recalls that not everyone created beadwork or moccasins and
that it was only those “who had an artistic knack, you had to be gifted.”
Preparation for beadwork was time-consuming, in terms of tanning the hides,
waiting for the catalogue order of beads, and finally executing the beadwork
design. Racette emphasizes the important role that Aboriginal women played
within their communities as “the major focus of women‟s energies was the
preparation of furs and hides and the construction of clothing for their families”
(Looking 286). These women clothed their families, negotiated change and
contributed to the economic survival of their communities.

My great-kokum tanned skins and made moccasins for her family and also
possibly for sale, but she also took the time to create decorative beadwork.
Sherry Farrell Racette recognizes the connection between the act of art making
and cultural survival when she writes about;
the extraordinary beauty of much of the material, often
created during times of duress and change reflects
the power of the creative process to provide respite in
times of trouble and the enduring ability of women to
create sacred moments through artistic expression.
(Looking 306)

39

I can only speculate as to why my great-kokum wanted to bead. It may have
given her some private space or been meditative and I would like to believe she
felt a creative need and that we are connected by this mutual experience.
Racette describes a similar desire when researching centuries old Aboriginal
clothing, “I imagined a long invisible thread that stretched across the centuries
and connected the thread in my needles to the fine strands of sinew used by the
unknown women who lived long ago (Looking 285).

Growing up in Kinuso, Alberta my mother, Elizabeth Perich, remembers
watching her kokum tan hides to make moccasins that she would later add
beadwork to; however, her kokum, Julienne Courtoreille, was unable to pass on
these skills to any of her children or grandchildren. My kokum, Della Sound, was
sent to a residential school where she was unable to learn traditional skills from
her mother and family. As Racette points out, like so many girls she was removed
from her home and community
Residential schools removed girls from the teaching
circles of older, more experienced artists. Excellence
in traditional art forms typically relies on opportunities
throughout childhood to observe, play, help, and
engage in mentoring relationships with experienced
artists [….] and how to harvest materials (Looking
294).

40

Sam Sound, my moosum (grandfather), was also raised in a residential
school and later signed away his treaty rights so that his children would not be
sent to residential school. As a result of signing away his treaty they had to leave
the reserve and move to Edmonton and Lethbridge for work. They were taught
English and forbidden from speaking Cree in the residential school and although
they continued to speak Cree as adults they did not teach it to any of their
children. The loss of traditional language and dislocation from family and
community also affected sewing and creating. These have been lost for three
generations and my work is a venue for me to acknowledge the loss.

I produced the series Fluid for the March 2010 Graduate student
exhibition Killer Texts . It consists of four pieces, eight by ten inches each, which
combined family snapshots with text featuring both family stories and legal
histories. One image of my kokum (grandmother) and moosum (grandfather) is
juxtaposed with a section of The Indian Act listing the offence of selling liquor to
an Indian (Figure 9). It states “…If the appearance and language of the purchaser
is such as should reasonably cause suspicion that the latter is a “treaty” Indian,
the liquor dealer is not excused because he thought the purchaser was a
halfbreed…”

41

Figure: 9. Michelle Sound Perich, Fluid. 2010. Photo and Inkjet print on paper.
8”x10”. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the artist.

42

Another image is a snapshot of my mom, Elizabeth Perich and her
husband Mike Perich and the text explains that he was Yugoslavian/Croatian and
she is Cree. He could often not purchase alcohol because they thought he was
“Indian” but they would sell to my mom because they thought she was Chinese.
Another piece features a snapshot of my family and a story relating how my
father would tell my mother not to speak Cree because “You‟re in Canada, speak
English.”

I am currently producing a series of artworks that further explore my family
and cultural history. While researching my genealogy on the internet I discovered
the Métis database, which contains records of both the Canadian census and
Métis scrip applications. I have found records from both my mother‟s and father‟s
families. The interview of Julienne Courtoreille which introduced this thesis was
also found online. She says that her ancestors never told her much, which she
unfortunately repeated with her grandchildren. The story she tells about her early
life was completely unknown to my family. She died two years before I was born,
but I often heard stories about her. My mother would tell me that Julienne was a
healer, that she knew a lot about traditional plant medicine and delivered most of
the babies born in Kinuso, Alberta. Most of her grandchildren are grandparents
themselves and are the only people who have any memories of her. Through
letters, facebook, telephone conversations, and personal visits I have recently
starting gathering stories and facts about her from her grandchildren.

43

For the March 2011 Emily Carr University Aboriginal student exhibit

Grand Entry I have enlarged her census record and the first page of her interview
to approximately three feet by four feet (figures 10 and 11).I overlaid the census
record with brightly coloured post-it notes that record the stories I have collected.
Some stories were handwritten by ---and others that were told to me during
telephone conversations I have written Julienne‟s interview is important as
Racette writes that “women‟s voices are often conspicuously absent from historic
documents, women have left few written records of their lives” (285). My greatkokum‟s words were translated from Cree to English and while I do not have
access to the original audio recording, I believe there are a number of
inaccuracies throughout the written text. For example it is written that she says
the word “ain‟t” although there is no Cree word equivalent. Her statement “there
ain‟t” would be translated in Cree as êkamâ, “there isn‟t”. Based on information
my family can provide I highlight these inaccuracies and make corrections using
a red marker directly on the photocopy enlargement of her interview.

44

Figure.10: Michelle Sound Perich. Searching, detail. 2011. Inkjet and Post-it
notes on paper. 3‟x4‟. Photo by artist. Used by permission of artist.

Figure.11: Michelle Sound Perich. Searching, detail. 2011. Inkjet and marker on
paper. 4‟x3‟. Photo by artist. Used by permission of artist.

45

The census record and interview of my great kokum are two very
different records, one that attempted to categorize her and another that allowed
her to define herself. Racette states the importance of “connecting to archival
records, the oral tradition and embedded knowledge within First Nations
languages (that) greatly enriches our capacity to understand the stories these
objects have to tell” (Looking 285). The census records of my family reflect the
language and government politics of the time. The records are from the 1901 and
1906 census and my mother‟s paternal great- kokum Theresa Giroux is listed as
Colour: Red, Religion: Roman Catholic, Racial or Tribal Origin: Cree French
Breed, Mother Tongue: Cree. Other ancestors are listed as Indian, Halfbreed,
unknown Indian.

I plan to print individual census records on printed fabric and construct a
patchwork quilt. (figure12). The fabric used will look historic, reminiscent of the
time period that the records were collected. In my work I want to bring forth
hidden and lost histories that expand and critique government records.
My work is recuperation through record keeping (internet sources, interviews)
and personal memories. I am interested in learning craft and technical skills to
discover a lost history, I have experimented with making traditional Aboriginal
arts and also learned basic sewing and quiltmaking. In the beginning of my
thesis research I wanted to distance myself from my personal and family
experiences and make work that was more playful, yet I find that I have come full
circle and am again looking at myself and my history. While these explorations

46

are valuable to me, they are also important in a wider context. If the stories, facts,
and knowledge are lost to me, they are also lost and unknown to you. The stories
of my great-kokum, my moosum, and my mother should not only be told and
recorded, but heard.

Fig 12: Michelle Sound Perich, work in progress, Untitled Census Quilt, 2011.
Fabric and ink. Dimensions unknown. Photo: by artist. Used by permission of the
artist.

47

Works Cited

Alexie, Sherman. “What You Pawn I Will Redeem” in 40 Short Stories: A

Portable Anthology. Ed. Beverly Lawn. 3rd Edition, Bedford/St. Martin‟s
Press, 2009.

Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. The Post-Colonial Studies

Reader. 2nd edition. Routledge, 2006.

Augaitis, Daina. Brian Jungen. 1st ed. Douglas & McIntyre, 2010.

Auther, Elissa. String, Felt, Thread: The Hierarchy of Art and Craft in American

Art. University Of Minnesota Press, 2009.

Bell, Lynne. “Scandalous Personas, Difficult Knowledge, Restless Images: The
Work of Lori Blondeau.” Canadian Art Vol.21. No.4. (Winter 2004)
48-53.

Bhabha, Homi K. “Cultural Diversity and Cultural Differences” in The Post-

Colonial Studies Reader. Ed. Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and
Helen Tiffin. 2nd edition. Routledge, 2006.

Bhabha, Homi K. Signs Taken For Wonders in The Post-Colonial Studies

Reader. Ed. Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 2nd
edition, Routledge, 2006.

48

Budney, Jen. Lori Blondeau: Who Do You Think You Are?: Performance,

Installation, Documentation, 1996-2007. Saskatoon: Mendel Art
Gallery, 2009.
Capot, Dave and Dan McLean. Interview with Julia and Victor Twin. Canadian
Plains Research Centre, May 1972. 8 February, 2011.
http://hdl.handle.net/10294/1701
Ed. Cynthia Chavez Lamar, Sherry Farrell Racette, and Lara Evans. Art in Our

Lives: Native Women Artists in Dialogue. School for Advanced
Research Press, 2010.

Clifford, James. Indigenous Articulations in The Post-Colonial Studies Reader.
Ed. Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 2nd edition.
Routledge, 2006.
Fagen, Kristina. Teasing, Tolerating, Teaching in Me Funny. Ed. Drew Hayden
Taylor. Vancouver, B.C: Douglas and McIntyre, 2005

Farrington, Lisa E. Faith Ringgold: The David C. Driskell Series of African

American Art, Vol. III. Pomegranate Communications, 2004.

Green, Rayna. Artists and American Popular Culture in Native Views: Influences

of Modern Culture. Ann Arbor, MI: Artrain USA, 2004.

Hill, Richard William. Other Authenticities in Native Views: Influences of Modern

Culture. Ann Arbor, MI: Artrain USA, 2004.

49

Jefferies, Janis. Text and textiles: weaving across the borderlines in New

Feminist Art Criticism . Ed. Deepwell, Katy Manchester University
Press, 1995.

Kuchler, Susanne and Daniel Miller, Eds. Clothing as Material Culture. Oxford:
Berg Publishers, 2005.
Lippard, Lucy R. The Pink Glass Swan: Selected Essays on Feminist Art . First
Edition. The New Press, 1995.

Macdowell, Marsha L., C. Kurt Dewhurst, and Michigan State University Museum.

To Honor and Comfort: Native Quilting Traditions . Museum of New
Mexico Press, 1997.

Merriam-Webster. Online Dictionary. 1 March 2011. http://www.merriamwebster.com/dictionary/ambivalence.

Métis National Council: Historical Online Database. 8 February 2011.
http://tomcat.sunsite.ualberta.ca/MNC/

Perich, Elizabeth. Personal Interview. 3 February 2011.

Phillips, Ruth. Making Sense Out/Of the Visual: Aboriginal Presentations and

Representations in Nineteenth Century Canada . Art History, vol.
27, no. 4 (Fall 2004): 606.
50

Racette, Sherry Farrell. “Looking for Stories and Unbroken Threads: Museum
Artifacts as Women‟s History and Cultural Legacy” in Restoring the

Balance: First Nation Women, Community, and Culture . Ed. Eric
Guimond, Gail Guthrie Valaskakis, and Madeleine Dion Stout.
University of Manitoba Press, 2009.

---. “This Fierce Love: Gender, Women, and Art Making” in Art in Our Lives:
Native Women Artists in Dialogue . Ed. Cynthia Chavez Lamar,
Sherry Farrell Racette, and Lara Evans. School for Advanced
Research Press, 2010.

Robertson, Patricia Dawn. Dangerous Beauty. Galleries West.
24 February 2011. http://www.gallerieswest.ca/Features/Articles/6108104.html

Smith, Paul Chaat. Everything You Know about Indians Is Wrong . University Of
Minnesota Press, 2009.

Smith, Paul Chaat. Money Changes Everything in Brian Jungen: Strange
Comfort. National Museum of the American Indian, Smithsonian
Institution, 2009. Exhibition Catalogue.

51

Valaskakis, Gail Guthrie. Indian Country: Essays on Contemporary Native

Culture. Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2005.

Wiebe, Rudy. Big Bear. Penguin Group, 2008.

Willard, Tania. Beat Nation: Hip Hop as Indigenous Culture . Grunt Gallery
catalogue. 2011.

Young, Robert. The Cultural Politics of Hybridity in The Post-Colonial Studies

Reader. Ed. Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 2nd
edition. Routledge, 2006.

Works Consulted

Ames, Kenneth and Thomas J. Schlereth. Material Culture: A Research Guide .
Lawrence, Kan: University Press of Kansas, 1985.

52

Bachmann, Ingrid, and Ruth Scheuing. Material Matters: The Art and Culture of

Contemporary Textiles. 1st edition. Yyz Books, 1998.
Berlo, Janet Catherine, and Ruth B. Phillips. Native North American Art. Oxford
University Press, USA, 1998.

Brown, Leslie and Susan Strega, eds. Research as Resistance: Critical,

Indigenous and Anti- Oppressive Approaches. Toronto: Canadian
Scholars' Press, 2005.
Campbell, Maria. Give Back: First Nations Perspectives on Cultural Practice.
North Vancouver: Gallerie Publications, 1992.

Dubin, Lois Sherr. North American Indian Jewelry and Adornment: From

Prehistory to the Present. New York, Harry N. Abrams, Inc, 2003.

Durham, Jimmie. A Certain Lack of Coherence: Writings on Art and Cultural

Politics. Kala Press, 1993.

Francis, Daniel. The Imaginary Indian: The Image of the Indian in Canadian

Culture. Vancouver, B.C. Arsenal Pulp Press, 1992.

Green, Rayna. Women In American Indian Society . Chelsea House Publishers,
1992.

Ed. Harvey, Karen. History and Material Culture: A Student's Guide to

Approaching Alternative Sources . London: Routledge, 2009.

Her Many Horses, Emily. Identity by Design: Tradition, Change, and Celebration
53

in Native Women's Dresses. New York: Collins in association with
the National Museum of the American Indian, Smithsonian
Institution, 2007.

Hungry Wolf, Adolf. Pow-Wow: Dancer's and Craftworker's Handbook .
Skookumchuck, B.C: Canadian Caboose Press, 1999.

Koenker, Deborah. Thinking Textile. Richmond, BC: Richmond Art Gallery, 2003.

Liss, Andrea. Feminist Art and the Maternal . University of Minnesota Press, 2009.

Ed. Livingstone, Joan and John Ploof. The Object of Labor: Art, Cloth, and

Cultural Production. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007.

Martin, Lee-Ann. Divergences: Rebecca Belmore and Shelley Niro . Regina, SK:
MacKenzie Art Gallery, 2004.

Racette, Sherry Farrell, and Gabriel Dumont Institute of Native Studies and
Applied Research. The Flower Beadwork People. Regina: Gabriel
Dumont Institute, 1991.
Ryan, Allan J. The Trickster Shift: Humour and Irony in Contemporary Native Art.
Vancouver, UBC Press, 1999.
Townsend-Gault, Charlotte. "If Art is the Answer, What is the Question? - Some
Queries Raised by First Nations' Visual Culture in Vancouver" in

54

RACAR: Revue d'art canadienne/ Canadian Art Review , Vol. 21,
Nos. 1-2, 1994, 100-111.
---. “First Nations Culture: Who Knows What?” special issue, “Monopolies of
Knowledge,” Canadian Journal of Communication , Vol. 23, No. 1,
March 1997, 31-43.
Smetzer, Megan A. "Introduction." Assimilation or Resistance? The

Production and Consumption of Tlingit Beadwork. Unpublished
PhD Thesis. Department of Art History, Visual Art & Theory,
University of British Columbia, 2007.

55