8 minute read
A Revival Through Ink
Words by Dana Bowen
Seeing the nine lines streaking her chin, beginning at the bottom of her lip down to the edge of her face, Lucy Taipana was overwhelmed with pride, knowing that she was honouring her grandmother in a way that would stick with her forever. Lucy was one of 32 women in Ulukhaktok this past April who sat down in front of Hovak Johnston, ready to take back a part of their culture that had been lost over the years. “It brought a lot of closure and pride and healing in each person,” said Lucy, who also had several of her family members get tattoos of their own.
Following a trip to Kugluktuk last year, Ulukhaktok was the second trip Hovak had made as part of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, where she gives traditional Inuit tattoos to those who want them. Traditionally, Inuit women bore ink on their face, hands, arms, legs and breasts to note their transition into womanhood, as well as to mark other significant events in their life, such as the birth of a child or their first hunt. The symbols now etched into Lucy’s skin were chosen because of their similarities to one of the many tattoos her grandmother had – a woman who Lucy said helped raise her. “I was just getting into my teens, and I had asked (my grandmother) more than once if she would give me tattoos,” she said. However, the elder had told her granddaughter at the time that she no longer had the tools to give Lucy the markings.
These Inuit tattoos among others were seen as an important ritual within the culture until the past century, where it became less common due to the forced transition into Western society, Hovak explained. “When I found out the last woman with traditional tattoos had passed away – she was 105 – I thought, ‘This is nuts. We can’t have another part of our tradition die. Part of our culture is going to be lost again.’” From the time Hovak, at childhood, had seen these tattoos on an older woman in Kugluktuk, she said a part of her knew she would one day bear them herself. “I started looking at myself thinking, ‘I could be one of those (tattooed) women. I am one of those women.’”
From that point on, Hovak began researching the tradition itself, while learning the various methods of tattooing. She discovered the modern way of using a tattoo gun; she learned the stick and poke method where one uses a needle and ink and repeatedly pricks the skin to embed the ink; then she learned the traditional way, known as hand stitching. “Back in the day, it was done by one needle and sinew. The sinew was soaked in seal oil and soot and stitched into the skin,” she explained. “Now we use a metal needle and cotton thread with tattoo ink, so it’s a similar technique.” While essentially sewing one’s skin may not seem like the least painful way of tattooing, Hovak argues that it is not only the easiest but also the quickest to heal. She prefers this method over the tattoo gun, which she said is the loudest and takes the longest to heal. “I talk about it like when you’re travelling from community to community,” Hovak explained. “You’re getting there quick, but you’re missing out on a lot of things. But if you’re going by skidoo or boat or back then a dog team, that’s my way of saying, that’s how I’m going over your tattoos.”
Before getting the tattoos herself, Hovak first tested out the look by using eyeliner to understand what it would feel like to permanently have those markings on her face. “The more I drew on myself, the more intense was my urge to get them,” she said. “I was like, ‘I don’t want this to wash off anymore.’” She had searched through multiple tattoo parlors, looking for the right one to make these markings on her, but found that none quite fit the bill. That is until Hovak’s husband introduced her to his 17-year-old student, Nick Frank, who Hovak said she felt an instant connection with. Using the gun method, the student etched three slits onto each side of Hovak’s face, extending from either side of her nose and running up her cheeks to her ears. The slits represent each one of her sons – a common insignia among the women who had originally received them. Those were later followed by more tattoos, including the two sets of V’s on her forehead, and the Y’s lining her wrists and fingers which face downward, as is the tradition for women who have sons as opposed to daughters, Hovak explained. “Boys usually tend to leave the parents’ family and the girls (have symbols) facing up because the girls tend to stay with the mothers and close to the mother’s family,” she said. More recently, Hovak added a row of stitches onto her arms – one for each of the women she has tattooed so far. The stitches continue to grow as she visits more communities.
Because the tattoos originally marked a significant time in a woman’s life, they were always done in stages – a message that Hovak stresses to the women wanting to get them done all at once. “When I first got them done, I used to get so frustrated because somebody at the restaurant would be staring right at me and wouldn’t look away,” said Hovak. “It took me a long time to be like, ‘It’s in my head. It’s up to me how I’m going to carry it. And it’s up to me to educate people because they don’t know about this.’ It’s been lost for three generations. If I’m going to carry these on, I need to be able to answer these questions and their curiosity.” While Hovak’s own experiences getting her tattoos were ones she won’t soon forget, the things she felt were lacking in her experience helped shape her vision for the revitalization project, she explained. “It encouraged me to think about this project,” she said.
During every tattoo, Hovak ensures there is at least one elder present to give the women a sense of community and support. “The best part of (the Ulukhaktok trip) was having the elders there,” she said. “They came in the morning and didn’t want to leave until the last woman left - and they were singing traditional Inuit songs. They knew exactly when a woman needed it the most and their songs got louder and louder as the woman was going through different pain and needed it. It’s how I envisioned my project to be and more.”
For Janet Kanayok, who had tattoos done on each of her wrists, the ceremony that went along with getting her tattoos made the experience all the more powerful. “To have an Inuk lady tattoo me and have elders who I already have such respect for sing while I went through this passage was really healing,” Janet explained. “I don’t even remember feeling pain when Hovak was tattooing my second wrist. Having them sing was what made me feel strong and proud of who I am.” Janet got her markings done alongside her 17-year-old daughter Chloe who had her forearms tattooed. The two decided on the markings because of the beauty of it, but also as a way to keep this significant tradition alive. “I’m in awe of my young daughter’s strength,” Janet said. “I love that we both have these symbols of beauty from generations back that her and I share.”
While the project has so far given the gift of reawakening to 80 women - with 22 of those being facial tattoos - getting to the point that the revitalization project is at now wasn’t easy. After quitting her previous job, Hovak spent much of her time working as a seamstress and jewelry artist in order to make ends meet, while also sending out applications for help with the project. Without a computer of her own, Hovak wrote out her applications on paper and then typed them on her husband’s laptop once he got home from work each day. “It was all from the bottom up, from the start,” she said. But soon, things started looking up.
“I remember getting my first acceptance letter for grant money. I started crying and said, ‘I can’t believe it – they can help.’ Then the others started coming in after that one, and it was like, it’s going to happen. It’s becoming a reality,” said Hovak. “Just to see something that I’ve been working on for so long finally come together and you put your whole heart out to make it happen, and it turned out so beautiful.” The revitalization project was even nominated in October for the Arctic Inspiration Prize, a prestigious fund that recognizes projects doing important work in the North.
The project is currently being documented through the help of photographer Cora DeVos of Little Inuk Photography and videographer Iman Kassam. Photos were taken of many of the women along with their stories about their tattoos and why they got them. It will all be part of a book, titled Reawakening Our Ancestors’ Lines, set to be released in the fall by Inhabit Media. But even after the book is published, the stories from Inuit women will continue to come out as Hovak travels to more and more communities. Her trips rely solely on grants and donations from the public. She will continue to raise funds for her next journey, which she said will hopefully take place in Cambridge Bay.
While Hovak said the project can be slow-going at times, the feeling she gets from being able to carry on the tradition is irreplaceable. “You can see in the women the change in their eyes,” said Hovak. “They are so proud, and they have something more to carry them higher.”
