Parallels 01: A Strong Sense of Place by The Polygon Gallery

Sharon Fortney

A STRONG SENSE OF PLACE

Parallels 01

Sharon Fortney

A STRONG SENSE OF PLACE

“What do people make of places? This question is as old as people and places themselves, as old as human attachments to portions of the earth. As old, perhaps, as the idea of home, of “our territory,” as opposed to “their territory,” of entire regions and local landscapes where groups of men and women have invested themselves (their thoughts, their values, their collective sensibilities) and to which they feel they belong. The question is as old as a strong sense of place — and the answer, if there is one, is every bit as complex.” — Keith Basso, preface of “Wisdom sits in Places” (1996:xiii)

The Polygon Gallery creates a new landmark for the Lower Lonsdale neighborhood in North Vancouver, which leads me to reflect upon the idea of place and indigeneity. This modernist building combines an urban aesthetic with the natural beauty of Burrard Inlet — the latter reflected by its mirrored surface. Can we also anchor Indigenous history and identity to this modernist space? Or has it been obscured beneath glass and concrete, both literally and symbolically? Here, I offer a glimpse of my understanding of the indigeneity of the gallery’s specific site, and surrounding landscape, while leaving much untold. Before writing this piece, I asked myself, “What can I say about local Indigenous history, and what is best left to others?” It is important to remember that to know a story does not always go hand in hand with the right to tell a story. This essay is meant to reflect only my personal understanding of this place after working with, and befriending, members of the three host nations. Often when we learn about the past, we see it as a narrative — in a history book or written on a chalkboard. A series of events form a story that connects the past to our present. We come to accept these stories as absolute truths, forgetting about the plot lines and people who were left out along the way — sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose. Place, rather than time, is paramount to the telling of Indigenous history. Local Coast Salish peoples — the Skwxwú7mesh,

Parallels 01 — A Strong Sense of Place

səlilwətaɬ, and xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm — see their history all around them in the diverse landscapes of their shared traditional territories, which encompass the Greater Vancouver area including the North Shore. Each of these communities connects to their ancestral lands in its own unique way. Each has places that are important; some are shared by all, while others are community specific. Always, local landscapes act as mnemonic devices invoking reminiscences about both recent and distant events. While oral traditions are sometimes shared by all members of a community, more frequently they belong to specific families. Stories about important events may have more than one version, each account sharing details that speak to the point of view of the person or family recalling them. This diversity exists within every community, and this is what makes understanding Coast Salish history a complex undertaking. Consider places as layered in history. This provides us with a framework for understanding how Indigenous history surrounds, and intersects at, the site of The Polygon Gallery. Sometimes we can see the underlying history, but sometimes it is less tangible. First let’s consider what we can see in the surrounding area today. Immediately to the west of Lonsdale Quay is the community of Eslha7an, once referred to as the Mission Reserve. This contemporary Skwxwú7mesh community officially became a reserve in 1864. Within two decades, it also became home to St. Paul’s Roman Catholic Church, now a National Historic site. Like other Indian churches of its time, it is distinguished by its twin spires and gothic revival architecture. Today, it remains an easily recognisable landmark for locating Eslha7an. Look for it next time you approach Lonsdale Quay by Seabus. There are other landmarks that can guide you if you approach on foot. Since 2011, the Mosquito Creek Marina entrance to Eslha7an has been marked by the “Gateway to Ancient Wisdom,” a public artwork created by Skwxwú7mesh / Kwakwaka’wakw artist Wade Stephen Baker. A pair of thunderbirds feature prominently in this gateway, speaking to the Skwxwú7mesh origin story, but also mirroring the twin peaks of Ch’ich’iyúy (the Two Sisters in Skwxwú7mesh language).

Sharon Fortney

Long ago, two daughters of an important siýáḿ (respected person) were transformed into a pair of nearby mountain peaks, which are visible from the shoreline on a clear day. Today, the Sisters continue to watch over their descendants, despite being renamed (and symbolically erased) by early settlers who thought they resembled two lions. Several versions of their transformation story are still being told. In 1909, Sa7plek (Chief Joe Capilano) shared one version with Tekahionwake (E. Pauline Johnson), a poet of Mohawk and British ancestry. She published it, along with other Skwxwú7mesh stories as Legends of Vancouver, in the process embellishing them with nostalgic ideals popular during her time. This is but one example. There are many ancient stories that surround the site of The Polygon Gallery — some are transformation stories tied to specific places, while others detail the actions of local ancestors or supernatural beings including a giant serpent that lives in the waters of the Inlet. To the east, near the Maplewood Flats Conservation Area, reside the səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil‑Waututh) people. Their hən̓ q̓ əmin̓ əm̓ name translates as “People of the Inlet,” and speaks not only of their place on the land, but to the story of the first səlilwətaɬ woman, who was created from the sediments of Burrard Inlet. Origin stories firmly root local Indigenous peoples to the lands and waters of their traditional territories — they are the very essence of indigeneity. While oral traditions and place names connect the past to the present, they are not always known or understood by newcomers to our region. Colonial policies — such as the creation of Indian reserves; the Potlatch Ban; legal restrictions placed upon movement and resource gathering; and mandated English assimilation at residential schools — have seriously impacted how First Nations peoples throughout our province are able to connect with traditional lands and resources, and thereby share communal memories and history between generations. Out of sight, to the southwest, on the north bank of the Fraser River, are the xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm (Musqueam). Their connection to the North Shore was physically severed by the arrival of newcomers. When resettlement began in the 1860s, local First Nations were confined to small parcels of land (Indian reserves) within their previously vast traditional territories. Despite such pressures,

Parallels 01 — A Strong Sense of Place

xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm teachings and traditions still connect them to all areas of their traditional territory, including North Shore rivers and mountains. Ancestral names can be a vehicle for transporting the past into the present. Today, the name “Capilano” (qiyəplenəxʷ in hən̓ q̓ əmin̓ əm̓ ) is still carried by a xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm community member, recalling and reaffirming this family’s connection to the North Shore. In recent years, public art has become a means for local Coast Salish artists to symbolically reclaim many important traditional places. Nearby, at Brockton Point, are three Gateways created by xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm artist Susan Point in 2008. Each represents one of our three host nations: Skwxwú7mesh, səlilwətaɬ and xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm. The xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm Gateway tells the origin of an important mask, which connects to a specific place in Stanley Park. At Ambleside Beach in West Vancouver, a welcome figure raised in 2001, and a sculpture titled Spirit of the Mountain created in 2006 by Xwa Lack Tun (Rick Harry), introduce residents and visitors to Skwxwú7mesh traditions. To the east, Cates Park was renamed Whey‑ah‑Wichen (“faces the wind” in the hən̓ q̓ əmin̓ əm̓ language) to remind visitors that the park is located atop an ancestral səlilwətaɬ village, now an archaeological site. Artworks by Damien George, of the səlilwətaɬ Nation, provides insights to visitors of this popular park. Newer artworks and signage invoke ancient Coast Salish art traditions, showing strong continuity between the past and the present. However, these art traditions are traditions in recovery. For almost a century, Coast Salish styles of carving and weaving were absent from public spaces in our city. Collector preferences created a demand for northern style sculptures, while Salish weaving (and the creation of ceremonial garb, linked to prohibited religious beliefs and pre‑contact forms of political leadership) was disallowed. The emerging native art market required local artists to adopt northern carving styles to be saleable. Totem poles replaced houseposts and carvings of ancestral figures in public spaces, and for a while, in public memory. Local artists adapted to outside pressures by embedding Coast Salish memory and identity into totem pole carvings.

Sharon Fortney

In October 1948, a totem pole carved by Tommy Moses, a Skwxwú7mesh carver, was placed directly to the west of the site of The Polygon Gallery, in what was then Cates Wharf and is now Seaspan. It was commissioned by the Cates family — Charlie Cates Jr, an admirer of First Nations history and culture, befriended many of the Skwxwú7mesh people his family employed in the shipyards and was a frequent visitor to nearby Eslha7an. While this totem pole remains in place, at the time of my writing, it may have been removed by the time you read this essay. Plans seem to be afloat to move it indoors (where most people will not see it). Can we celebrate or preserve Indigenous art if it’s out of sight? Is the object or the tradition more important?

Erecting Tommy Moses Totem Pole at Cates Wharf, October 1948 L to R: Chief Isaac Jacobs, Eileen Joe, Chief August Jack Khatsahlano, Chief Mathias Joe and Tommy Moses. Courtesy North Vancouver Museum & Archives, #953, photo: North Shore Graphic Arts

Parallels 01 — A Strong Sense of Place

What can I say about The Polygon Gallery’s specific geographical relationship to the less tangible elements of local Coast Salish history? At xʷməθkʷəy̓ əm, people frequently say their history is “written in the earth.” How is this true for the space that has been claimed for The Polygon Gallery? I once read that somewhere in its vicinity resides a granite boulder. It features a “lost” petroglyph. This image, carved in stone, depicts the stylized outline of a mountain goat. It is rendered in an early Salish art style that my former art history professor, Charlotte Townsend‑Gault, once referred to as x‑ray vision — a precursor to northern formline.

Totem Pole by Tommy Moses

First documented in 1941 by T.P.O. Menzies, a former Vancouver Museum curator, this petroglyph was reportedly only visible at the low watermark. Created in an area to the west of the original North Vancouver ferry slip, its precise location has become obscured over time. Using Menzies’s measurements, it should reside on the western edge of the new gallery, but, where is it? Is it underneath landfill? Is it submerged in nearby waters? Has a pier been built overtop? Has it been permanently erased by past city building? Did someone remove it without notice? Is its location still known

Sharon Fortney

Photo by Sharon Fortney

to some community members? Are such items protected or at risk when their locations remain unknown? All of these interesting questions are beyond my ability to answer. I can say that this rock art is very much the embodiment of local esoteric knowledge. Rock art commonly occurs in remote places; places where people have gone to pursue spiritual matters. For this reason, they are often found high in the mountains or near to bodies of water. Such are places where spiritual encounters are known to occur, but these are private matters. Mountain goats are highly esteemed creatures. In the past, not everyone could hunt them, and those that did always treated these special animals with respect. They are generous providers, giving not only their meat, but their hair for weaving, their horns and hooves for feast spoons and bracelets. Some neighbouring Salish peoples recognise the mountain goat as a transformed Ancestor. They are sacred animals. This is something to consider when you think about why the petroglyph was created in this place. Then consider how it has been erased by the city all around us. Ironically, it could even be buried beneath a gallery meant to celebrate art in all its many forms.

References: Keith Basso, Wisdom Sits in Places: Landscape and Language Among the Western Apache. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1996. E. Pauline Johnson, Legends of Vancouver. Introduction by Robin Laurence. Vancouver: Douglas and McIntyre, 1997. Chief August Jack and Dominic Charlie Khahtsahlano, Squamish Legends. Edited and published by Oliver N. Wells. Chilliwack, BC, 1966. Jesse Morin, Tsleil‑Waututh Nations History, Culture and Aboriginal Interests in Eastern Burrard Inlet (Redacted version). Report prepared for Gowling, Lafleur, Henderson LLP, 2015.

Sharon Fortney

T’uy’t’tanat-Cease Wyss

ETHNOBOTANY OF A FEW PLANTS FOUND IN NORTH VANCOUVER

WILD GINGER Asarum caudatum Xet’tanay This wonderful heart‑shaped leafy plant grows close to the surface from an underground rhizome. Every part of the plant smells and tastes like tropical ginger. Wild ginger helps with digestive issues and soothes acid reflux.