ANIMISTespace Gallery la création amérindienne contemporaine à Genève  Atjecoutay « Les Nouveaux Animaux Sacrés » Porte-visage d'une peinture amérindienne audacieuse et d'intelligence, Atjecoutay impose ses grands tableaux comme des boucliers chatoyants, interprètes d'aube entre la philosophie des peuples naturels et le futur global de l'humanité. Pas d’aigles, pas de loups ni d’ours ici, mais des poules, des cochons, des vaches : ceux que nous considérons comme des animaux de rente sont en réalité nos nouveaux animaux sacrés, qui constituent le langage sans lequel le monde- notre monde- n’est pas intelligible. En appelant aux esprits contemporains qu’elle situe entre les espace temps d’un cochon d’Amazonie et les rêves de prairie d’une fillette obèse, l’œuvre de Atjecoutay inclut des formes et des mouvements prélevés de la pictographie algonquienne telle qu'on la trouve dans les manuscrits d'écorce de bouleau des Ojibwés et des techniques de vitrail pariétal (Esprits X-Ray) qu’il amalgame à des matières industrielles imbibées de pigments de graisse chaude. Du Chasseur Vide à l'Indien Eduqué (Le Vétérinaire), la civilisation se traverse comme un territoire métamorphe où transformés par le Wabeno nous allons, prises consentantes de la folle cérémonie--médecine picturale. Le vernissage aura lieu le samedi 4 juin à dès 18h30 en présence de l’artiste. ANIMISTespace Gallery Avenue Louis-Aubert 4 1206 Genève info@animistespace.ch |
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
ANIMISTespace Gallery la création amérindienne contemporaine à Genève
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Based on A Telling of the Seven Fires
It is at this time that the "civilized race" will be given a choice between two roads. If they choose the right road, then the Seventh will light the Eighth and final fire, an eternal flame of tranquility and equality between all species.
Anihisnaabae
If the "egocentric man" makes the wrong choice of roads, the destruction in which they brought with them to the western hemisphere, as well as other lands, will come back at them and cause much suffering and death to most of the earth's inhabitants.
As of now we can see the choice's that the Civilians who are the descendants of tribal people have made.
Anihisnaabae
The animist people are being absorbed by "civilization"
Once all the savages (meaning free people and animals) have been stolen from their lands: forests, jungles, prairies, desserts, arctic and replaced with a governing political systems and the corporations of production to feed the ever hungry beast, the indoctrination and assimilation will almost have been completed with a few exception, there'er still individuals and underground movements that refuse to cooperate and consume Farm Factory Meat (foods) Alcohol, Refined Tobacco, and Pharmaceutical Drugs.(and these are just 4 of the products that keep us addicted to the civilian way of life - soulless mindless and sick, just the way "THEY" want us to be)
Anihisnaabae
In my mind - Hope is for the hopeless the earth will take care of its self without the civilized and there egocentric concepts.
All, that is assumed extinct is waiting in the caverns of the spiritual.
Waiting for a parasite to exhaust it self - "civilized man"
Its not the "doomsday" of the earth - Civilized man will loss it ability to live with the earth, when I don know and I don't care, but it will happen!
Atjecoutay
Anihisnaabae
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
DRYING APPLES
Supplies
(I personally don’t like the shape of the Delicious apple - it reminds me of a heart after it dries)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
REZ-Dog Mixed Media Paintings and poetry from 2010 Exposition
http://www.animistespace.ch/index.php/exposition
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ANIMOOSH CEREMONIAL SONGS
Based on the Creation telling
FEED THE PEOPLE
That which is good
May it be made an offering to her
May it be made an offering to her
The People who walks in the darkness
May it be made an offering to her
May it be made an offering to her – No’sa (my father)
The blue sparkling snow
May it be made an offering to her
May it be made an offering to her
The sage, the sweetgrass and the cedar
May it be made an offering to them
May it be made an offering to them
The birch barch and the red willow
May it be made an offering to them
May it be made an offering to them
On the ice the people’s little steps and the happiness
May it be made an offering to them
May it be made an offering to them
The famine
May it be made an offering to him
May it be made an offering to him
WICHIKAPACHE (DUAL SPIRIT)
At first the earth
Was inhabited solely by a giant woman
With a yellow rain arm
And dark pollen legs
And she cuts the wood
And she keeps the fire
One day she found animoosh a dog
The dog is aabita animosh
SLUGGISH TRAVOIS
Wichikapache this is my name now
I am the first human being
I receive my language from the animals
They give me birth
If I stop to talk about them
They will leave
This is the deal we did
Anishinabee
But this is the night I am waiting
On this flat long reservation road
A history to come and walk around
With a yellow rain arm
And dark pollen legs
She will find my people covered with snow
She will find me and give me a raven
Or a crow name
Later she will tell
What happened
In the snow I give love to this stray
In the snow I give love to this stray
And to this dog -No’sa (my father)
With his hair as black as choke cherries
I can’t think straight anymore
So I think twisted
This is how I transform
Atjecoutay this is my name now
I tell the story at the day of the dog
Before the time of the sacred atim
One thousand by camp
One hundred by family
One
‘Lone
Burden
Animoosh
Happy to carry heavy pack upon its back
Happily hitched to the travois-
Happily loaded with buffalo chips or wood
Pulling children and the elderly
Who couldn’t walk- who couldn’t walk any more
The Mandan, the Minnetaree
The Assiniboine, the Arikara and the Cree
The Blackfoot, the Grosventre, the Dogrib, the Sarsi
And the Arapaho, the Hidatsa, the Arikara, the Crow
The Shayela and the Dog Eaters
Houses
Atjecoutay this is my name
And I tell
Dog carries the house of the people
Dog carries the house of the people
The sticks of the people’s houses
Dragging along
Their courageous
Little
Dog
Legs
THE FIRST WINTER OF BIG FOOT
I am new-born Dog I wander around
I have seen the white god’s fire I wander around
I stole his fire from him I wander around
With corn around my lips
I have it I have it
I am changing Dog I wander around
Among the garbage rummaging
I haven’t been seen
I haven’ been seen
What do I find behind the house?
What do I find behind the house?
Snow white dog decorated- This is what I find
With red paint on his warm muzzle
And ribbons around his wagging tail
Almost soup
Almost soup
I am reservation Dog I wander around
Kokum’s house
With my large empty
Belly
THE BARRIER OF 3’
Sage cedar and sweetgrass I tell the story
Decrepit ol’ dog Trinity lived long even if she missed one
She never belonged to anybody
She was along with people who took care of her
Sage cedar and sweet
Grass I tell the story
At the age of four
Then she simply died from distemper
Behind the Roman Catholic Church
Spring came
Her contracted brown body was discovered
Somebody was kind enough to bury her
Instead of throwing her into the river
As it was before
Sage cedar and sweet
Grass three weeks after
Three trees were grown behind
The parking of the bingo hall
That signified her presence to the band
Of course
These trees are not very healthy
They are decrepit with no leafs
But they grow over the Cowessess Reservation
Sage cedar and sweetgrass I tell the story
But In the natural world nothing has three legs
Nothing goes by three
CALL YOURSELF HERB (THE PROSTITUTE)
She moves she moves
Herb woman she moves
Her shoes of sweet grass she moves
Her shoe-string of green grass she moves
Her leggings of fire herb she moves
Her garters of powder she moves
Her necklace of gray sage she moves
Her earrings of white shell she moves
The pollen of the various robes is placed in her mouth she moves
Her heavy coat of fire herb she moves
A grass-tunnel has been placed on her forehead she moves
Her feather of herb she moves
Above her a male blue bird dances about dangerously
She moves
One child after one child
She does not separate them
The day from the night
And she change the name
GAZDOG (THE 5TH DIRECTION)
Dog runs after food, flesh is ancient in her breath, bleeding feet tells the story of a woman way, chase the coyote naked till it drops, the odor of stories quiet in her blood she guards the door, she guards the bone of all living things, her regrets are numerous, this silent pup', trees are good to listen from telling how with thunder-hands the male God shaped the dust, circled bone-fire tumbled up the wind to make a fool. Now the fool is dead, his bone back out time the hills are young to look for signs that say a man could love his fate that winter fire in the blood is one sad thing, Woooo, com-passion translate wind to be fire I am life Gas-Dog to strong grace the People is and I promise to appease his troubled skin, I promise to protect his prayer within my full and warm belly.
I am with the People that broke its raw mirrors standing with solitude and dignity, now dispersed in 4 colored directions, a name has been given to the People, a name and others, the Word was the incarnated weapon, the pale God had the bone, the buffalo dust in the breast and one more cigarette for your treaty number.
O Take my paw now, 10-37 friend, for I lead you to your nature; she is there, patient, waiting on you that you come back to your beauty, your integrity, your respect of life. You have to do it, People, to appease your consciousness. I am Dog, brave People, the woman in love with your freedom. You aren't the abstract image of God, keeper of the chaos's structure; you are alive People and real. The Creation never happened, there is no Fall, there will be no Promised Land to where I could guide you, you are pure from Time.
O take my paw now, there is the act without loss of memory nor destiny; there is no small confined weakness between a father and a mother for a little Indian child to find a refuge, white God stole the point, separate the mother and the child, the blue from the blue and the energy went day and night, turning on them, selves, until love changes into solid chaos; then the One told the matter in order to structure them as symbols, creating con-fusion words into the devastated heart: this is now the point reached, the Time when all moral sense is gone with each destroyed family, only the name turns high, lonely No Name child, raw-raw beer child alone on Friday plains.
I am not afraid by you construction, migratory People, I am the chained dog on your little square rez house, I loved you all my life, I saw you honoring the wild rock flowers, I know you today you call death deliverance; or is death a delivery, Indian baby ? Who is always dying? Which One of you? To come out the family is it to be penetrated, dissociated in 4 x 4 directions like a light fire, this first time, not the other times? And guys, what'z your center?
It wasn't another you, a white dog, coming in and out and in and out; you didn't closed Time, you are intact and to coyote it is equal. You divided, parted yourself in the dream to control your emotions, now words are white, making you sick as alcohol does, turning you as vicious circle. Words are not trapped animals, indios, you are my trapped brothers in that story; her story, my mother died by the winter, from distemper, do you remember?
And you know this life as I know it: it is not her. At the center of hearth it was no difference between no-gods and no-dogs; all were living onto the womb; a man could transform into an animal if he wanted to and an animal could become a human: it was no difference, words were magic and spirit had mysterious powers. A silence pronounced by chance could have strange implications; it became suddenly alive: it was like it was. You came in me, People, with your seeds, waiting on me to deliver you from the symbolic world where you were caught since born, I soon will deliver you.
The justice of the solitary dog moves you, her paw scratches the air just right and the prairie dog was any dog. I dreamed to be him, I tried to be free, People, but you came broken, dizzy by the sense of a world trying to be right and the prey was any prey. Is it a right way, rezpeople, I am GasDog, I am in your hands begging for money and beauty I am with the sorrow child against the God. I refused, People, the manifest destiny that tells a prairie dog has to die for a wild animal's hunter's grace. Who is your Creator which allows the crazy equation? Xolot'l ? Quitzequatl? What is its creation that pretends to survive on another dependency? Meat? Are you, People? A 4-basis snake turns, you fat black car takes the 5th- Direction, the engine breaks, Dog tells a skinny loving lie.
FRITZ’S DOG (Hommage to Fritz Shoulder)
To Fritz I give my tribal blanket
Female strokes are
Anishinabe traditional
Attacks
MOTHER’S MILK (THE KEEPER)
All children need a proper burial
Animoosh keeps the bones between two worlds
Animoosh keeps the difference between both
Animoosh is waiting at the residential
School for a bone soup and a warm bath
We never lost the hearth we shall live
We never lost the earth we shall live
Here she is and we all live
In the shade of reality
BLANKET 1 - WINTER CAMP
Little people of the forest
Little people of the forest
So timid
That nobody knows you
Little people of the forest
So modest
Nobody cares
About you
You go walking you go walking
Little people of the forest
So modest
Nobody cares
About you
You go walking you go walking
BLANKET 2- BLUE DIIDE (SECOND MESSAGE FROM THE BLUE LIGHT)
This is your female cover I offer with notches to dig it out
This is your cultivated land
With the blue straight line above your sky
The sky has been set up it has been made
The earth has been set up it has been made
The spirit has been laid down
It is covered over with the growing thing it has been laid down
The earth has been laid down it has been made
The blue sky has been set up it has been made
The black sky has been set up it has been made
It is covered over with the heavenly bodies it has been set up
Gi'-tchie Man-i-to' has been set up
The sky has been set up it has been made
The mountains have been laid down the mountains have been laid down
The mountain spirits have been laid down
They are covered over with all the animals they have been laid down
The waters have been laid down the waters have been laid down
The waters spirits have been laid down
They are covered over with all the animals they have been laid down
The clouds have been set up they have been made
The clouds have been set up the clouds have been made
The black clouds have been set up
They are covered over with the male new rain they have been set up
And the four direction have been made
The night and the day have been set up
They are covered over with the male new sun they have been set up
And the hole has been placed
The blue divide has been set up it has been made
BLANKET 3 – SUBDIVIDED
My young men shall never work. Men who work cannot dream and wisdom comes in dreams.
You ask me to plow the ground. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's breast? Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom to rest.
You ask me to dig for stone. Shall I dig under her skin for bones? Then when I die I cannot enter her body to be born again.
You ask me to cut grass and make hay and sell it and be rich like white men. But how dare I cut my mother's hair?
It is a bad law and my people cannot obey it. I want my people to stay with me here. All the dead men will come to life again. We must wait here in the house of our fathers and be ready to meet them in the body of our mother.
BLANKET 4 – THE COMPANY (SMALLPOX BLANKET)
We gave them two Blankets and
an Handkerchief out of the Small Pox Hospital
I hope it will have the desired effect.
BLANKET 5 - GOOD BOOK
There can be no peace or parity between
the savages and Christians.
This is required by our Faith and the fur trade.
BLANKET 6 - BLUE COLLAR
Industry worker
Doing time
This loud blanket from the factory I offer
To you Leonard
Blue Collar
Dreamer
You are the blanket
BLANKET 7 - SUNDOG DANCE
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye shades, shadows come
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye shades, halo come
Come ye ring, oh-o-o, ho, oh-o-o
Ye night ghosts and dance ye
What—dark!
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye dogs, dog-howls come
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye dogs dog-howls come
Come ye dog son-o-o, ho, oh-o-o
Ye singers merry feast ye—bark!
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye dust, vertical-prism come
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye dust, vertical-prism come
Come ye crystal, oh-o-o, ho, oh-o-o
Ye black robes and bark ye—hark!
Ho, oh-o-o
Come ye bones, bone-grins come
Come ye bones, oh-o-o, ho, oh-o-o
Faces
Pierced light
BLANKET 8 – WHERE THE LAND MEETS THE SKY
BLANKET 9 - THE RUN-AWAY
Little people of the reserve
Little people of the reserve
Earth is so red
Nobody knows
The animals
They run away
From you
All the relations
They run away they run away
BLANKET 10 – NATURAL DESTINY
ALTERNANCES
(les abstractions de la vie tribale)
ATJECOUTAY est un peintre heyoka.
Il ne peint pas mais marche dans la forêt vivante et sautille sur la terre brûlée de son peuple.
Outsider d’un art contemporain qui flirte avec le design et les biotechnologies, le « chien de réserve » veut ses terres vierges et manuelles. Simples traits blancs ou tipis abstraits, ses « attaques » figurent la partition de la terre subdivisée ; ce sont des « maladies du carré » qui se répandent sur des peintures venues des temps immémoriaux.
Faites de main d’homme, artisanalement, elles sont pourtant répétitives, sans attache ni appartenance. Cette symbolique contemporaine cache un cérémonial traditionnel :
A l’origine les formes abstraites étaient peintes par les femmes, tandis que les hommes portaient le message de façon plus réaliste. Le clown sacré (heyoka), lui, endosse les deux pouvoirs, les deux devoirs.
BLANKET 1 : WINTER CAMP (OJIBWAY I)
BLANKET 9 : THE RUN AWAY (OJIBWAY II)
FRIENDS AT THE EDGE (LIFESTOCK)
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Pour affranchir la parole aborigène de sa perception folklorique, passéiste ou new-âge, Atjecoutay organise différentes actions de sensibilisation à l’expression contemporaine amérindienne de qualité comme présentation de films, de livres et de disques souvent inconnus en Europe.
Sont en préparation plusieurs expositions media-mixtes, ainsi qu’une série de conférences et lectures publiques avec une préférence donnée aux femmes : « Nous sommes une société matriarcale mais la nature a été enlevée des paysages de nos esprits.
C’est arrivé ici avant de nous arriver : la mère est devenue la matérielle ; c’est avec ses valeurs que je peins et que je combats
ANE WOLFE
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