Kyle Natkusiak Aleekuk

Growing up on the prairies of Alberta, I always wondered, “What does it means to be Inuvialuit?” In fact, it was rarely discussed in my house. My late father, Billy Aleekuk, was a survivor of residential schools and was a quiet man by nature. He didn’t talk much about his upbringing until later on in his life before he passed away. My father was adopted by the Aleekuk family after his experience at residential school and took on their last name as he continued his life raising a family and pursuing a successful career in aviation. When I was young, my father would sometimes tell me of his biological family, the Bankslands.

“That’s where your name was passed down from, Natkusiak. Your great grand-dad’s name was Natkusiak and people would call him Billy Banksland.”

In my twenties, I started to become really interested in my family history because of my name and who I was named after. Natkusiak, or Billy Banksland, was a guide for the Stefansson expeditions of the early 1900s and later settled on Victoria Island with his family. One of his children is the highly noted artist Agnes Nanogak Goose and her brother, Alec Aliknak Banksland—another noted artist—who was a founding member of the Holman Printmaking Co-op.

Aliknak, my grandfather, has become an endless inspiration for my art and my worldview. His works, along with Nanogak’s illustrations and prints, have given me a sense of culture as well as identity. I have, on my forearms, tattooed images of Aliknak’s works in honour of my grandfather and the life he lived. On the walls in my home, I have his prints bringing life to my living spaces. His images tell a story of how people lived in his lifetime. His prints give me insight into who he was, which is very important to me because we never met—he died when I was young.

One of his prints is forever in my memory. It depicts two fish swirling and circling around a line and hook. The perspective is as though the viewer is the one holding the line and waiting for a bite. This image left a powerful impression on me when I first saw it at my aunt’s house in Ulukhaktok.

My sister and I took a trip to Ulukhaktok in the following years after my father’s passing. His wish was for some of his cremated ashes to be brought back to his birthplace, to where his father is buried. We arrived in June 2017 when the Kingalik Jamboree was also underway. It was our first time in the community and we were welcomed with smiles, food and laughter. On June 21st, my Uncle Gary and Uncle Andrew both took me on a fishing trip to a lake inland from the hamlet. With ice still partially covering the lake, we walked out onto the ice and each found a crack to drop a line through. Never having jigged before, I dropped my line into the water without question and hesitation. Silently bobbing the spoon up and down while staring into the bright green water made for a very peaceful afternoon, until two formidable land-locked char came swirling and circling around my spoon. My heart raced as one of them took my bait; I set the hook with a yank and, with my free hand,

I started to grip the line and pull up the fish. I caught it. As it danced on the ice, I could only think of my grand-dad’s print of the two fish that I had saw earlier. I experienced a moment which he expressed through his art, which was a depiction of what he experienced. In a way, I felt like it was his way of showing me what fishing is all about, and also what art is all about.

For me, art has always been an expression of one’s self and a reflection of perception. I try to reflect my worldview, my experiences and dreamsthrough art. I’ve experimented with different mediums in the past such as pencil, pen and ink, charcoal, and acrylic paints, but I’ve found myself drawn to liquid watercolor ink. The brightness and the smooth quality of the ink makes it very desirable to work with, yet its permanent nature makes it challenging. To lay this ink down, you have to have made up your mind about your design and you have to be focused, as mistakes aren’t easily fixed in this medium. I take much inspiration from Americana and Japanese tattoo art and the mediums used by tattooists to create “flash art”. Tattoo flash refers to handdrawn or painted illustrations on paper usually hung in shops so a customer could choose the design to be put onto their body. For practice, tattooists would paint or draw these designs with the same approach as they would with tattoos as to hone their skill and craft. When it comes to tattoos, you’d better have your mind made up.

Discovering my family history through art has had a meaningful impact on me as an Inuvialuk. The visual representation of my culture in images depicting hunting and fishing has also inspired me to have my own hunting and fishing experiences. Engaging in food gathering activities such as hunting only furthers my desire to live more like my ancestors and relatives, and has firmly framed my worldview as an Inuit on the prairie. Teaching myself whole-animal butchering, learning how to use a rifle and shotgun, bow-hunting, setting snares, making uluit, cooking and smoking wild meats, gardening and harvesting vegetables, and simply enjoying the outdoors are all skills and experiences I try to express through illustrations and colour. Much like Natkusiak, I hunt for meat but also for adventure—I cast a net for fish but also for a dream.

As I’ve grown older, the same question still lingers around in my head, “What does it mean to be Inuvialuit?”

I think it means being real.