KENOJUAK ASHEVAK, C.C., R.C.A. (1927-2013) KINNGAIT (CAPE DORSET)
Sealskin Handbag, c. 1956-57
bleached and unbleached sealskin, fabric lining, and sinew, cotton thread, 7.5 x 11 x 4.25 in (19.1 x 27.9 x 10.8 cm), measurements reflect dimensions without sealskin strap.
unsigned

Provenance
Private Collection, Canada;
Waddington’s Auctions, Toronto, Nov. 2006, Lot 285;
Acquired from the above by John and Joyce Price, Seattle.

Publications
Reproduced in Ken Mantel et al., Tuvaq: Inuit Art and the Modern World, (Bristol, UK: Sansom and Company Ltd., 2010), fig. 166, p. 168.

While sealskin boots, containers, and bags containing sewing kits for example, have been made and used in the Arctic for generations, the significance of the expressive character of Kenojuak’s beautiful and justly famous Rabbit Eating Seaweed bag ⁠— which has since been lost ⁠— and James Houston’s response to it, are an important part of Inuit art history. According to James Houston’s memoirs, his encounter with Kenojuak and her sealskin bag prompted the experimental printmaking attempts with sealskin stencils, but also served to define the aesthetic of many early prints from Kinngait. The whereabouts of that bag, and another one illustrated in Jean Blodgett’s 1985 Kenojuak book, are unknown, making this extremely rare Sealskin Handbag by Kenojuak one of perhaps only two other known examples. As such it offers an occasion to own an important work by Kenojuak, one that acts as a bridge from the early skin appliqué designs by Kenojuak and others to the birth of artistic print production in Cape Dorset.

Lest we appreciate this handbag only for its historical significance, we must acknowledge its remarkable craftsmanship and its exquisite and clever design. Sealskin Handbag proves Kenojuak's inherent inventiveness at work: the stunning contrast between the dark and light grounds and their appliquéd imagery (achieved only with bleached and unbleached skin) transforms this beautifully sewn, functional object into a precious, magical work of art. Kenojuak lovingly ornaments every element: even the flap with sawtooth piping, and the strap with charming little dots. It is the larger “canvases” with their varied and delightful appliqué designs, however, that are particularly spectacular (and, as a credit both to Kenojuak’s skill and the object’s custodians’ care, remain in remarkable condition). The sides and even the ends of the bag are decorated with myriad abstracted leafy designs that seem to creep upwards like English ivy (some even look like potted plants!). They foreshadow the beautiful fronds and foliage and feather patterns that would grace Kenojuak’s drawings and prints for decades to come. We are also treated to various images of animals and everyday life: figures of women picking berries; a teapot or kettle, pail, snowknife, ladle, shovel, and ulu; a dog, and of course, birds. Truly spectacular.

References: For the analogous example, Rabbit Eating Seaweed Handbag, the whereabouts of which are unknown, see Jean Blodgett, Kenojuak, (Toronto: Firefly Books / Mintmark Press Ltd., 1985), fig. i, reproduced, p. 33 and also in Jean Blodgett, In Cape Dorset We Do It This Way, (Kleinberg, ON: McMichael Canadian Art Collection, 1991), p. 25. For Houston’s account of the handbag story, see James Houston, Confessions of an Igloo Dweller, (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1995), p. 268ff. See also James Houston, “Skin Appliqué and Stencil Prints,” in J.H.C. King, Arctic Clothing of North America-Alaska, Canada, Greenland, (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2005), pp. 139-141.