• 

Salmon Passage

“Some designs come from places we do not necessarily know or understand. In inception, there are roots of this work that stem from an idea I had—to pay tribute to Marvin Oliver and his exploration of color. In my youth, I was judgmental of some of the men who made art when I discovered the differences in regional arts. I had no way to understand their pasts or their complicated lives that drove them to create art and share their time through work as expressions that allowed me to have a platform to stand on.

I have not practiced formline in many years because there was a time when it became associated with feelings of being conquered by something. Reflecting on this now, in my years of design, I feel a different relationship to it. With the passing of some of my mentors, I carried a great deal of guilt as I was creating major sculptures to embrace the nuances of my grandmother’s generation and those before it. This was done to ensure that Puget Sound Salish people remember the names of Joseph Hillaire, Chief William Shelton, and the lesser-known Morris Alexander.

I lost a number of significant people over a four year passage. In 2020, while working in isolation under immense pressure in a space filled with real darkness—a place without windows—I was creating work that was great and true but, in some ways, losing my own voice. At times, I found myself entangled in a blurred line of mimicry. I was told secondhand how let down a young person felt because I had practiced formline, as if it were shameful. It reminded me of how, in my youth, I had called Marvin out for overlooking Salish art without considering the time in which he was raised or the constraints that shaped his expression and what the market would accept for him to make a living.

When I look back on that time—the moment I had enough money to travel and study—Holm sent me to the Field Museum for learning. The week I spent with the collection was just a scratch at a world and a glimpse into a powerful place. As a grown man, I have gained humility in understanding why we sing songs to be among powerful objects and respect some worlds taken from us and housed away. While conflicted in some ways, I equally appreciate the lessons that are there for me to learn. An adze mislabeled with Holm’s initials and a question mark next to it resonated deeply with me; I knew to my core that it was from Puget Sound.

I can feel conflicted about the places where inspiration for design comes from—or I can embrace the many things by which I am called to create something non-divisional and unconventional. A daydream where a salmon swims through kelp and plays chasing an otter in a world I only know in glimpses.”

-Qwalsius-Shaun Peterson