First, let us start from the idea that Anishinabe Art is good medicine. I attended a show in Manistee, Michigan, exhibited at the Manistee Art Institute, bearing that name. The Manistee Art Institute exhibits in a splendid ballroom in the Ramsdell Theater complex. It is medicine to me. I feel a deep relaxation whenever I am walking upon Tribal Land. I feel that a higher law has taken authority where the beating drum is secondary to the power of a woman with child only. In my youth, I once lived on a farm close to Tribal Lands where the great chiefs Owosso and Okemos were born. So I have know this difference all my life. I understand that these lands were overlooked in a master treaty by Henry Schoolcraft himself and were hastily addressed in a follow-up document. Many of these treaties are now subject of legal review, an interesting prospect.
Perhaps, an early word should go to thank my hosts, the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians. I am pleased to write in comfort by a fireplace on a deck over looking a gaming floor. I am astounded by the well-appointed business center, highlighted in eartly tones of walnut and maple. I am enjoying these comforts in a perfect atmosphere of hospitality. Often, when I write, I feel I have secluded myself from life. Here, it knocks on the door of my mind as I weave sentences.
Exhibited in October 2009, the show poster spelled Anishnaabe with two letter As in a row. This might be as crucial as difference between Ottawa and Odawa, two spellings of one word. I believe I have listened to Drew Nelson correctly, which means the second spelling is more correct. If I make any mistakes as I attempt to see with an cross-cultural telescope, I welcome correction and a deeper discussion. Correction and good discussion are good medicine, as good medicine as Anishinaabe Art. We have much to heal between European Americans and Native North Americans. I say Native North Americans because I understand the native culture of North America bridges the Canadian - American border. The border in a way doesn't exists for those of the Fires of Native North American. To explain, parts of the North American continent upon the Island of Manitoulin are designated as unceeded land. In other words, the acres of Wiki, short for Wikwemikong, have never belonged to any European crown. I remember an evening upon the deck of Muskie Widows, a restaurant that celebrates monstrously big Muskies and the women who allow their men to fish for them, with three Tribal Elders of that island. One man had luck to be born brother to Crystal Shawanda, daughter of Wikwemikong and jewel of the island of Manitoulin. The three had golfed powerfully that afternoon. The three planned to catch legendary Muskellunge the next morning. That night, the engaged me in conversation and I shared libations with them. The men teased me relentlessly, naming me Muskegon, and I cannot say it wasn't good medicine. I look forward to sitting with them again in early July, my annual visit to the islands of the Straits of Mackinaw and Georgian Bay.
Muskie Widows is a fine place to begin a fishing trip. These muskies would make the biblical Jonah tremble. There's no mistaking the muskie for a mere pike!
Even the Urban Dictionary understands what unceeded means:
Drew Nelson is a great ambassador between the nations of America. Anyone who books Crystal Shawanda to sing in West Michigan will be a Medicine Man administering great healing. Fathers, listen to "You Can Let Go, Daddy" without a teary eye. I challenge you:
Every message between the Indian nations and their brothers who arrived by boat and plane is written upon birch bark, even as this one is written upon birch bark in spirit. In saying that, I evoke the memory of Simon Pokagon, a leader of the Potawatomi Nation, who delivered to the organizers of the Columbian Exhibition of 1893 a major manifesto written upon birch bark. According to legend, he composed the birch bark document quickly, an impressive feat considering birch bark must be harvested and processed before it can be used as paper. Birch bark is not easily erased, either. I wonder where this artifact of 1893 rests, as much as I wonder where an Chippewa ring depicting the three river tributaries joining to form the Saginaw River rests.
The popularity of that manifesto earned him an invitation to address the exhibition. If only this speech could have been filmed, but it was covered by the Chicago papers as a major event. Perhaps it was transcribed. Could it be re-enacted? I have made a pilgrimage to visit Simon Pokagon's traditional resting place, high upon a cliff overlooking Rush Lake, north of Hartford, Michigan. It is also said that he rests in honor at one of Chicago's most prestigous cemetaries. At Rush Lake, there is a hand carved totem pole, unpainted, and a circle for ceremonial fires. Archaeologists have not disturbed the ground, but with Tribal permission, have located graves with ground seeking radar.
I am gratified that when I drive home along US-31, I will note at least three workshops where a new generation of Tribal Artisans work. I am posting pictures I have taken today of your community's amazing handicrafts, practical items that transcendentally rise in value to the level of high art. I hope this is appropriate and my pictures reveal their power. Please consider this an invitation to celebrate our friendship upon the ancient shores of West Michigan by exhibiting the masterworks of your artisans with us.
Sincerely,
Muskegon
1 comment:
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