TUPILAKS​ by Paul H. Maurer The Tupilak plays a most important part in the weird array of figures appearing in ivory nakedness on the vast ice stage of the Greenlandic Arctic. Created by Eskimo shamans, working in secret, the tupilak emerges today in all its primitive beauty as an object prized above all other northern sculpture. The original intent of the shama (ilisitsuk) and that of the evil-working magician (ilisitsoq) was a creation designed to destroy or render ineffective the person against whom it was sent. Greenlandic Eskimo carvers fashioned these odd figures in many ways. Built from bones of animals tied together to form a skeleton with peat moss as muscles and flesh and dressed up in small remnants of an old skin blanket or produced from driftwood, the tupilak, assisted by incantations from the shaman, emerged to wreak vengeance or bring good fortune. Many Shamans - of a superior order-Angakok - were ably assisted in their tupilak sculpture by Private Spirits devoted only to the Angakok. They acted as spies and reported the good and evil of the community to their Angakok. They appear as objects, part animal and part human. In some instances the Angakok was not the only person with a retinue of Private Spirits. To guard against tupilaks bent on evil, many hunters took their own Guardian Spirits with them on their seal, walrus and polar bear hunts. These were good tupilaks. In his study of history man has spent innumerable hours in research and exploration. Expeditions have carred [sic] him through eons of mystery. One area of the globe has remained relatively obscure until recent years. A vast world of ice and sub-zero weather, formerly traversed by only the hardiest explorers, has emerged into the limelight of recent decades, the Arctic of Eastern Greenland. Here, archeologists, scientists, anthropologists have discovered a frigid storehouse of myth and superstition. Here the tupilak was discovered and a remarkable rebirth of a lost art is in evidence. The art forms are the same as those turned out many centuries ago. Thanks to men like Jrgen Meldgaard, W. Thalbitzer; Erik Holtveg; all of Denmark, this remote eastern coast of Greenland, often shrouded in fog and hard bound by pack ice, has opened its stone-age doors to the scrutiny of modern eyes. Here the Angmassalik, the Kulusuk and the Kangamiut folk are engaged in an arctic renaissance. Here carvers, never attending an art school, are producing the tupilaks. They still use the most primitive of tools - bone knives tipped with iron, and bow drills as they labor over these curious little statues. Sometimes six months elapse ere the artist completes his handiwork and another month to put a high gloss on his tupilak of whale tooth or walrus tusk. The carvers of Kulusuk (Kap Dan) are among the best. They have been in touch with, not only the Danes, but also the Americans manning the Distant Early Warning Line radar station on the eastern shores of their gigantic island. Among the tupilaks of Kulusuk, an increasing archeological factor reveals itself; the presence of both American and European influence. The tupilak is gradually losing its evil intent. Only in rare instances will a Greenlander use his tupilak to bring disaster or misfortune to his neighbor. Today the artist is under the spell of goodness, of laughter, humor and kindness and not under the demonic control of the diabolic