Inside a corridor built for function, time folds. Artists unfurl memory onto tables, turning concrete into ceremony. The space hums—not with commerce, but with return. Every glance, a stitch. Every exchange, a quiet reclamation. What was paused begins again, not as before, but more deeply rooted.

Art on Campus

By Tony Eetak
Inside a corridor built for function, time folds. Artists unfurl memory onto tables, turning concrete into ceremony. The space hums—not with commerce, but with return. Every glance, a stitch. Every exchange, a quiet reclamation. What was paused begins again, not as before, but more deeply rooted.

Indigenous Artistry and the Quiet Occupation of Campus Space

Within the brutalist symmetry of the University of Winnipeg, Indigenous artists and makers subtly reclaim space. Their wares are not commodities—they are continuities. Each fur-trimmed stitch, each piece of beadwork stretches backward and forward at once, tying past presence to future persistence.

It’s not just about what’s sold. It’s about what’s held—language, lineage, labour. University walls once built to standardize knowledge now play reluctant host to forms of knowing they were not built to contain. This is art as statement. As survival. As soft resistance.

This project was supported by:

Rooted in the rhythms of Winnipeg’s urban landscape, each image in this exhibit reflects a practice shaped by light, weather, and the quiet details of daily life. This is photography distilled to its core—composition, contrast, and feeling—offering a window into the city as seen through Indigenous youth perspective and presence.