I promised further discussion of the Curukaq festival and its customs, but I've decided to save that bit for later, for there are many entries ahead of me. Also, I appear to have written a short novel in the place of my last entry, and I'd like to keep this installment relatively terse.
This week I continue my study sketches for Lucy's Dance, a children's book by Deb Vanasse that celebrates Yup'ik culture, specifically the Curukaq potlatch festival. I have heard recently that a group of students and teachers from Stebbins, Alaska (the town that inspired the story), may be perusing my blog. I invite them to correct me on any point, or better yet, to send photos of their gymnasium and their general landscape during the months when Curukaq would normally be recognized.
When I first set out to create setting studies, I envisioned myself drawing and naming lots of plants, weather, etc. However, a brief perusal of the manuscript informed me that the better part of Lucy's Dance takes place indoors, with the exception of a few panoramic scenes. In fact, a good deal of the story takes place in a gymnasium, where many traditional festivals are currently held in native villages. I would love to have a photo of the Stebbins gymnasium, but at the moment I must rely only on my imagination.
For my handful of outdoor shots, I spent a good deal of my time conducting visual research of the village of Stebbins and other villages in southwestern Alaska. I was surprised to find that Stebbins sits directly on the coast, between ocean and tundra. Stebbins sits on the "mustache" of Alaska ( just below Alaska's "nose"). The land is riven with waterways, splotched with ponds, and overall very moist-looking. The ground ripples a good deal, but appears flat and treeless from a distance, as tundra should.
I owe thanks to the photographic initiative of gingerann75 on Flickr, who conscientiously documented her visit to the Alaska Native Heritage Center, which, regrettably, I have never visited in person. GingerAnn75 took copious photos of the inside and outside of Yup'ik dwellings, namely the qasgiq (men's communal house) and the ena (women's communal and family house). Both were mound-shaped domiciles constructed of a latticework of wood beams buried beneath a heap of sod and tundra grass. Each dwelling included a "skylight" made of seal or walrus intestine and sometimes a subterranean passageway that could also serve as a cooking space--hopefully with plenty of warning to family at the other end of the passageway. I know that other indigenous peoples, both in Alaska and worldwide, used "mound" dwellings of this sort. As I admire the buildings' shape, I cannot help wondering whether these in particular helped to inspire the depiction of the Hollywood hobbit hole, or our popular conception of the igloo.
From what I understand of the Yup'ik festival calendar, summer was full of frantic hunting, gathering, and building, while winter involved more staying indoors and holding festivals. Although the potlatch technically occurs in the spring, it is on the brumal end of spring. Halfway through my perfection of rendering the local shrubbery, I remembered that most of the ground would probably be covered with snow. In fact, those little green bushes may have to go. I welcome guidance from any readers in Stebbins at this point.
I populated the village coastline sketch with a man who I generally imagined to be the village priest. This raised an interesting factual question that I have yet to answer. The related historical moment involving the priest occurs in the 1920s, and I am unsure as to whether the Stebbins people lived in colonial dwellings or in their traditional buildings at that time. I have found one photo of nearby town, Bethel, which shows some basic development in 1909, but Stebbins is a good deal smaller. In short, tomorrow will probably involve a call to the Alaska Native Heritage Center.
Personally, I'm rooting for the traditional qasgiq and ena dwellings, which are much more fun to draw.
I was originally disappointed at the prospect of drawing a gymnasium, a relatively mundane setting, until I realized what a mythical place the gymnasium can be. For mainstream Americans, gyms are the location of so many athletic triumphs and failures, social rivalries, and holiday bazaars involving cupcakes and haunted mazes constructed from wrestling mats. Maybe the American gymnasium and the qasgiq do have a few things in common. I found a photo of a gym with a domed roof like an airplane hanger (which it may well have been at one point). This gym almost resembles the qasgiq structure in some ways. Say . . . this give me an idea for an illustration.
So much for terseness. :)
This week I continue my study sketches for Lucy's Dance, a children's book by Deb Vanasse that celebrates Yup'ik culture, specifically the Curukaq potlatch festival. I have heard recently that a group of students and teachers from Stebbins, Alaska (the town that inspired the story), may be perusing my blog. I invite them to correct me on any point, or better yet, to send photos of their gymnasium and their general landscape during the months when Curukaq would normally be recognized.
When I first set out to create setting studies, I envisioned myself drawing and naming lots of plants, weather, etc. However, a brief perusal of the manuscript informed me that the better part of Lucy's Dance takes place indoors, with the exception of a few panoramic scenes. In fact, a good deal of the story takes place in a gymnasium, where many traditional festivals are currently held in native villages. I would love to have a photo of the Stebbins gymnasium, but at the moment I must rely only on my imagination.
For my handful of outdoor shots, I spent a good deal of my time conducting visual research of the village of Stebbins and other villages in southwestern Alaska. I was surprised to find that Stebbins sits directly on the coast, between ocean and tundra. Stebbins sits on the "mustache" of Alaska ( just below Alaska's "nose"). The land is riven with waterways, splotched with ponds, and overall very moist-looking. The ground ripples a good deal, but appears flat and treeless from a distance, as tundra should.
I owe thanks to the photographic initiative of gingerann75 on Flickr, who conscientiously documented her visit to the Alaska Native Heritage Center, which, regrettably, I have never visited in person. GingerAnn75 took copious photos of the inside and outside of Yup'ik dwellings, namely the qasgiq (men's communal house) and the ena (women's communal and family house). Both were mound-shaped domiciles constructed of a latticework of wood beams buried beneath a heap of sod and tundra grass. Each dwelling included a "skylight" made of seal or walrus intestine and sometimes a subterranean passageway that could also serve as a cooking space--hopefully with plenty of warning to family at the other end of the passageway. I know that other indigenous peoples, both in Alaska and worldwide, used "mound" dwellings of this sort. As I admire the buildings' shape, I cannot help wondering whether these in particular helped to inspire the depiction of the Hollywood hobbit hole, or our popular conception of the igloo.
From what I understand of the Yup'ik festival calendar, summer was full of frantic hunting, gathering, and building, while winter involved more staying indoors and holding festivals. Although the potlatch technically occurs in the spring, it is on the brumal end of spring. Halfway through my perfection of rendering the local shrubbery, I remembered that most of the ground would probably be covered with snow. In fact, those little green bushes may have to go. I welcome guidance from any readers in Stebbins at this point.
I populated the village coastline sketch with a man who I generally imagined to be the village priest. This raised an interesting factual question that I have yet to answer. The related historical moment involving the priest occurs in the 1920s, and I am unsure as to whether the Stebbins people lived in colonial dwellings or in their traditional buildings at that time. I have found one photo of nearby town, Bethel, which shows some basic development in 1909, but Stebbins is a good deal smaller. In short, tomorrow will probably involve a call to the Alaska Native Heritage Center.
Personally, I'm rooting for the traditional qasgiq and ena dwellings, which are much more fun to draw.
I was originally disappointed at the prospect of drawing a gymnasium, a relatively mundane setting, until I realized what a mythical place the gymnasium can be. For mainstream Americans, gyms are the location of so many athletic triumphs and failures, social rivalries, and holiday bazaars involving cupcakes and haunted mazes constructed from wrestling mats. Maybe the American gymnasium and the qasgiq do have a few things in common. I found a photo of a gym with a domed roof like an airplane hanger (which it may well have been at one point). This gym almost resembles the qasgiq structure in some ways. Say . . . this give me an idea for an illustration.
So much for terseness. :)
You are so right about the mythical qualities of the gym, which in many ways does replace some of the qasgiq functions in Alaskan villages. Basketball is big, big, big: anytime the school doors are unlocked, you're likely to find someone shooting hoops. When I was in Stebbins, there was a Korean martial arts instructor (he spoke virtually no English or Yup'ik) staying in an apartment above the gym and teaching martial arts classes in the gym in the evenings. Modern-day gyms in the villages look a lot like school gyms everywhere, only smaller and with fewer banners and such. I like the rounded look of the gym in your sketch.
ReplyDeleteHousing: I suspect your sketch with the priest captures it well. Traditional sod homes were typically (though not always) seasonal shelters used when people migrated from one camp to the next: Winter camp, Spring camp, Fish camp, Fall camp. When schools, churches, and other Outside influences caused people to settle in villages, housing became more permanent, as depicted in your sketch. At least that's what I've been told...
The martial arts instructor story does have a very mysterious quality. I like the look of the rounded gym as well, but I'll look at some photos of the community hall in Stebbins if we're going for accuracy. I'm sure they'll end up looking fine.
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