In Winnipeg’s playgrounds, metal tipis rise like echoes of old songs, catching sky in their spines. These are not structures but spells—frames for imagined fires and stories unspoken. Here, laughter roots in the dust, spiraling upward. Memory plays barefoot, circling the sacred geometry where past and future quietly braid. Photo: Jamie Bell

Playground

By Jamie Bell
In Winnipeg’s playgrounds, metal tipis rise like echoes of old songs, catching sky in their spines. These are not structures but spells—frames for imagined fires and stories unspoken. Here, laughter roots in the dust, spiraling upward. Memory plays barefoot, circling the sacred geometry where past and future quietly braid. Photo: Jamie Bell

The Forks is made for everyone

By Tony Eetak

The playgrounds and gathering spaces at The Forks are layered with meaning—designed not just for function, but for story. You can feel that in the shapes they choose: tipis made of metal and concrete, climbing structures that echo trade routes, gathering circles cut into the earth or raised with wood and steel. It’s not just about kids playing; it’s about creating spaces where cultural memory and movement intersect. The metal tipi, for example, isn’t meant to be a replica—it’s a gesture. A nod to histories that still shape the present, even in play.

There’s a deliberate hybridity in these spaces. Materials like steel and plastic mix with organic forms like carved logs and natural seating rings. This mix mirrors the city itself—industrial and organic, Indigenous and urban, constantly changing but rooted. These are spaces that invite both movement and pause. A child can climb, swing, or run, while an elder might sit and watch from a cedar stump or bench. They’re built to be shared by everyone, not just for recreation, but for reflection, dialogue, and storytelling.

Filed Under: 2024-5782, Manitoba, Winnipeg

This project was supported by:

This black and white photo exhibition by Tony Eetak explores the quiet poetry of Winnipeg’s bridges—their bones, their shadows, their forgotten corners. Bridges of Winnipeg: Seen and Unseen is not just a documentation—it’s a meditation. A monochrome walk through the connective tissue of the city, where every bridge is both a structure and a story.