Nunavut Archives - Page 2 of 3 - The Arts Incubator

Waiting for Summer The setting sun paints the snow-covered shores of Arviat with soft hues where the frozen expanse of Hudson Bay meets the land. Wind-sculpted drifts create a stark beauty under the fading light, a silent testament to the Arctic winter giving way to the subtle promise of spring.

The setting sun paints the snow-covered shores of Arviat with soft hues where the frozen expanse of Hudson Bay meets the land. Wind-sculpted drifts create a stark beauty under the fading light, a silent testament to the Arctic winter giving way to the subtle promise of spring.

Waiting for Summer

Tony Eetak May 16, 2025

The low sun casts a long, cool light across the snow-covered shores of Arviat, where the vast...

The Art of Drying Caribou Meat Join us for an exciting online presentation on the traditional art of food preservation, focusing specifically on the drying of caribou meat, led by Eva Suluk. This unique session offers a rare opportunity to learn about a vital cultural practice and the skills involved in preparing and preserving caribou meat.

Join us for an exciting online presentation on the traditional art of food preservation, focusing specifically on the drying of caribou meat, led by Eva Suluk. This unique session offers a rare opportunity to learn about a vital cultural practice and the skills involved in preparing and preserving caribou meat.

The Art of Drying Caribou Meat

The Arts Incubator May 12, 2025

Join us for an exciting online presentation on the traditional art of food preservation, focusing specifically on...

Qauruti: Wearing Our Culture with Dignity and Pride Arviat Artist Eva Suluk has been working to preserve the art of making qauruti - a traditional headband worn by Kivalliq Inuit.

Arviat Artist Eva Suluk has been working to preserve the art of making qauruti - a traditional headband worn by Kivalliq Inuit.

Qauruti: Wearing Our Culture with Dignity and Pride

Eva Suluk May 10, 2025

In our culture, the Qauruti is more than a headband—it’s a symbol of who we are and...

Whispers on the Ice Ice and sky. A world without end. But the whispers on the wind, they tell a different story. A story of change, of melting, of a shifting world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our heritage, our future, stretched out before us, waiting to be understood.

Ice and sky. A world without end. But the whispers on the wind, they tell a different story. A story of change, of melting, of a shifting world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our heritage, our future, stretched out before us, waiting to be understood.

Whispers on the Ice

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

The ice stretches out forever, meeting the sky in a blur of white and blue.

Where the Snow Meets Our Homes Sky and snow, meeting our homes. A soft light touches everything. Familiar shapes, but a different feel in the air. The edge of our community, where the wild meets our lives. We watch, we remember, we see the subtle shifts in the world around our doors. This is our place, changing with the light.

Sky and snow, meeting our homes. A soft light touches everything. Familiar shapes, but a different feel in the air. The edge of our community, where the wild meets our lives. We watch, we remember, we see the subtle shifts in the world around our doors. This is our place, changing with the light.

Where the Snow Meets Our Homes

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

This is where we live. Our homes, nestled in the snow.

Sun on a Frozen Land Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us? What will we find on the other side? That horizon... it's shifting, changing, like the world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our story, written in ice and light, waiting to be told.

Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us? What will we find on the other side? That horizon... it's shifting, changing, like the world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our story, written in ice and light, waiting to be told.

Sun on a Frozen Land

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us?

Tread Marks on Thinning Ice Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon... it's softer now, the light uncertain. Each mark on this tire, a story of the land. But the land is changing, breathing differently. I see it, we all do. This isn't just a view; it's the ground shifting beneath us, captured in a moment.

Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon... it's softer now, the light uncertain. Each mark on this tire, a story of the land. But the land is changing, breathing differently. I see it, we all do. This isn't just a view; it's the ground shifting beneath us, captured in a moment.

Tread Marks on Thinning Ice

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon...

Barrel Horizon A metal drum, dusted and fading, frames the edge of land and light. The sun breaks clean across an ice-locked horizon, distant yet grounding. Industrial memory sits in the foreground, silent but loaded. This is the balance: between use and loss, sky and surface, heat and cold, stillness and what is coming next.

A metal drum, dusted and fading, frames the edge of land and light. The sun breaks clean across an ice-locked horizon, distant yet grounding. Industrial memory sits in the foreground, silent but loaded. This is the balance: between use and loss, sky and surface, heat and cold, stillness and what is coming next.

Barrel Horizon

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Oil heats our homes, but it also represents a cycle that’s melting the ground beneath us.

Edges of Ice Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In this blur of focus, what is foreground and what is memory? A crystallized tension sits between presence and erosion, the dirt and grains trapped inside as witness. Nothing here is still, though everything looks like it might be.

Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In this blur of focus, what is foreground and what is memory? A crystallized tension sits between presence and erosion, the dirt and grains trapped inside as witness. Nothing here is still, though everything looks like it might be.

Edges of Ice

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In...

Through My Eyes: An Arctic Story Even in the heart of our community, winter's presence is felt. The school stands as a center of learning, surrounded by the enduring snow.