Between 1869 and the 1960s, thousands of native children in the U.S. attended at least 523 boarding schools, supported by government and church groups fueled by the grim motto: “Kill the Indian, save the man.”
Children were taken hundreds, if not thousands, of miles from their families and tribal communities, where they suffered horrific abuse and, in many cases, died as a result. Federal agents often kidnapped minors, who were sent to school and severely punished if they spoke their native language. Almost in 1926 83 percent of indigenous school-age children were enrolled.
The National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition explains that the purpose of the schools was “expressly intended to implement cultural genocide through the removal and reprogramming of American Indian and Alaska Native children to effect the systematic destruction of Native cultures and communities.”
In October, the U.S. government issued a formal apology for its role in the boarding schools, but efforts will continue to fully understand, process, and begin to heal the trauma.
For Tlingit-Unangax artist Nicholas Galaninlooking at the past is fundamental to constructing a more nuanced perception of the present. His multidisciplinary practice “aims to redress the widespread misappropriation of indigenous visual culture, the impact of colonialism and collective amnesia,” according to a statement from Peter Blum Galleryrepresenting the artist and currently showing Galanin’s solo exhibition, The survival of land claims in a climate of change.
“We can sharpen our vision of the present with cultural knowledge and memory,” says Galanin. “These works embody cultural memory and practice and reflect perseverance, sacrifice, violence, refusal, endurance and resistance.”
Based in Sitka, Alaska, Galanin often integrates traditional Tlingit and Unangax art forms into contemporary sculptures and installations. ‘The imaginary Indian (garden)’, for example, takes as its starting point a totem polea usually towering display of animals carved from a single tree and deeply imbued with spiritual and social significance.
In “3D Consumption Illustration,” Galanin comments on a lack of respect for the art form by cutting up one totem figure like firewood, as if it were disposable or merely decorative. In “Loom,” he stacks a series of pre-made children’s desks into a winged, totem-pole-like tower to commemorate the children who suffered in residential schools.
Galanin’s often provocative work emphasizes the inherent power of symbols and associations. A polar bear pelt replaces fabric in “White Flag,” a nod to a symbol of surrender, which draws attention to the increasingly dire consequences of the Arctic climate crisis and on indigenous peoples’ way of life.
In Miami earlier this month, masts and rigging emerged from the sand as if a Spanish galleon had been buried beneath the beach. The sails boldly asked in both English and Spanish, “What will we give up to burn the sails of empire?” and “What will we build for our collective liberation?”
The installation, titled “Seletega (Run, See if People Come/Corre a ver si viene gente),” tapped into the European colonization of North America and its purpose to extract wealth, establish cities and trade, and settle in to expand westward in times of need. at the expense of the indigenous peoples.
In The survival of land claims in a climate of changeGalanin continues to emphasize the “indigenous cultural continuum,” says a statement from the gallery, defying cultural erasure and refusing the legitimacy of colonial occupation. “Galanin reflects on the distance between peace and justice by centering the land’s continued indigenous protection in the face of expansive exploitation.”
Through photography, monotypes, and sculptural works in ceramic, bronze, and wood, the artist reflects on systems of racial oppression and disenfranchisement, Indigenous knowledge and responsibility, and the importance of collectivity and connection as we move into the future.
Galanin has recently received a slew of prestigious awards, including a Joan Mitchell Fellowship in 2023 and both the Guggenheim Fellowship and the Don Tyson Prize this year. See more of his work at Instagramand if you are in New York, visit The survival of land claims in a climate of change until January 18.
