Workshops at the Winnipeg Art Gallery
410,790 views—and each one carries a whisper of that moment. A gathering not staged but lived, glowing in the afterlight of creation. We were at Qaumajuq, beneath the gentle weight of memory carved in stone, surrounded by art that breathes across time. The youth stood in that light—artists, storytellers, documentarians of now—bearing witness to each other and to the legacies they carry forward.
This was the a major highlight of our Canada Council for the Arts Digital Greenhouse arts incubator project: a conference that became something more, something living. Workshops dissolved into conversations, panels into shared laughter, and quiet corners became studios of spontaneous expression. We collaborated across vast distances—Tuktoyaktuk, Arviat, Northwestern Ontario—connected not just by cables and code, but by purpose. Each participant brought their own knowledge systems, digital tools, and ancestral memory, interwoven through film, spoken word, motion, and media.
Qaumajuq became our shared studio and ceremonial ground. Surrounded by its visible vault, stories unfolded through screen and sound, through pencil sketch and pixel. The building, already humming with generations of Inuit creativity, welcomed a new constellation of voices. It was not just a celebration—it was a reimagining of what digital arts can be when rooted in land, in language, in community care. We weren’t just looking at art—we were becoming part of it.
What started as a pilot grew into a pulse. The Digital Greenhouse gave breath to intergenerational exchange, letting innovation grow through the cracks of colonial timelines. We left that gathering with our bags full of audio, footage, sketches, and shared meals—but more importantly, with a deeper sense of who we are when we create together. A collective proof: that the future of art in this country is collaborative, complex, and already in motion.
