#decolonizingstreetart

[inanorderlyfashion]

Swarm by Red Bandit (wheat paste mural)

from the Anti-colonial Street Artists Convergence (August 14-23, 2015)

[inanorderlyfashion]

“Thank you to @yoselinmx for sitting for this piece. We talked about yearning for the languages of our indigenous abuelas and what it means to define who we are today. This piece also celebrates the knowledge that is so common that we forget it is rooted in indigenous wisdom. The maguey plant (agave) is well known for giving us tequila and mescal but did you know it can also be used as fiber for hammocks, carpets, fishnets, and rope as well as clothing, food and a healing agent that kills e coli and staph? It was mashed into paper to make codices! The books that the Spaniards burned when they invaded these lands. This knowledge is so close and common yet we some times can't account for it. We are so close we look past it. Like trying to chase a rainbow which is the reflection of light in droplet of water we just have to stop, pay attention and look at things with the right angle to see them. Aiako'nikonhraién:ta'ne' This is a Mohawk word that translates to- to come to understand and that is what many of us Xicanxs are working so diligently to do against the violence of forgetting that colonialism pushes us toward. To understand who we are and where we come from.” - Melanie Cervantes

[angoramtl]

Poster collaboration between Lindsay Katsitsakatste Delaronde & Lianne Charlie for the Tiotia:ke: collage workshop

Tiotia:ke: collage workshop. Hosted by Lindsay Katsitsakatste Delaronde,  and Lianne Charlie on August 2015.

Using performance art (Lindsay) and Indigenous collage theory (Lianne), we’ll work with the participants to address challenges in renaming, reclaiming, & reoccupying parts of Indigenous homelands that are currently occupied by major urban centres. What can or does renaming, reclaiming, & reoccupying Tiotia:ke (“Montreal”) look like? Who is involved? What responsibilities do we have? And to whom or what? Participants was invited to create and share collages that seek out possible answers to these (and other) questions.

[melaniecervantes]

Third and final install of the week. This piece is at the entrance of a street called Avenue Coloniale (Colonial Avenue- the first one was on ChristopherColumbus St. I kid you not) you can't make that up! We mixed in a piece by Lianne Charlie (Little Salmon/Carmacks First Nation) and Lindsay Katsitsakatste Delaronde (Kahnawake) which reads Tiotia:ke the Mohawk name for "Montreal" which means where the currents meet. I am also repping Jesus Barraza's Tierra Indigena in this wheat paste mural. #decolonizingstreetart #DSA2015 #aXicanainMohawkTerritory #indigenousartists #streetart #DignidadRebelde (at Tiotia:ke)

[melaniecervantes]

So happy to finish my contribution to the mural wall here at the Decolonizing Street art convergence. This was a community effort filled with love. ❤️This piece also bring in a contribution from Mohawk artist Lindsay Katsitsakatste Delaronde who gave me a phrase to add to my piece and she added Aiako'nikonhraién:ta'ne' which means to come to understand. #aXicanainMohawkTerritory #decolonizingstreetart #DSA2015 #DignidadRebelde #uncededvoices (at Tiotia:ke)

[melaniecervantes]

Things are moving along well at the Anti-Colonial Street Art Convergence. Everything is about public art work and relationships. We work best as a team. This is a collaborative wall with @littlesalmonwoman and @sw_rm as well as a whole team of amazing human beings with many talents and huge hearts. I am incredibly honored to be here in Tiotai:ke as a visitor in Mowhawk territory. #uncededvoices #DSA2015 #decolonizingstreetart #aXicanainMowhakTerritory (at Tiotiake)

[melaniecervantes]

Good times making this install with @jessicasabogal and @ishouldbepainting before a screening called Insurgent Projections at Ken Saro-Wiwa park. The space used to be a gas station and now it's been coverted into a beautiful space for community. It is named after Saro-Wiwa who was leader of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP) Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight other Ogoni leaders were executed by Nigerian military authorities for exposing the environmental and human devastation caused by the oil industry and its documented collusion with the brutal military dictatorship in Nigeria. #uncededvoices #decolonizingstreetart #stolenland #indigenoussolidarity

[angoramtl]

My text for Decolonizing Street Art 2014 zine

** I want to acknowledge that I live on occupied and unceded Kanien’kéhàka and Algonquin territory, in so-called Montreal.

 I still remember the day my mother told me the story of when she was accompanying my grandmother to a burial when she was a child.  She didn’t have the right to ask questions about her uncle who was wearing traditional clothing, or about the indigenous ceremonies that were taking place.  They were always  taboo subjects.  I must have been 10 years old when my mother shared these memories with me and it was the first time I became aware of the colonial violence that exists on Turtle Island.  I was brought up in a progressive household, with anti-racist, feminist, militant parents, but I have always had questions regarding my identity and how to live with a mixed identity in a white colonial city where indigenous people are rendered invisible.  I think undertaking a project like Decolonizing Street Art can be traced back to the politicized education that I received and allows me to take steps in answering the questions that my parents weren’t able to ask.  The project helped me begin a process of decolonizing myself, and the people I surround myself with.  It was by refusing and deconstructing this colonial system, which governed the social and political norms of my family, which allowed me to take part in a movement of decolonization that was larger than my community or my territory. 

  When Tom GreyEyes, a Navajo artist, contacted me last fall after seeing one of my textile pieces entitled Decolonize Turtle Island, I was studying far from home in France, a country that colonized my territory.  Tom wanted to get in touch and build bridges between indigenous street artists in Kanata.  We started talking through e-mail about an eventual project which would unite different indigenous artists on Turtle Island, along with exchanging names of people who inspired us.  When I got back from Europe, I dived into an inspiring new universe: that of street artists who make art in the context of anticolonial struggles, against pipelines and environmental violence, about the importance of territory or about missing and murdered indigenous women.  As the convergence was starting to take shape, I began to understand the importance of bringing together a community of indigenous artists who shared the same anticolonial stance on our occupied land, which remains unceded centuries later.

 I also organized Decolonizing Street Art with my great friend Zola, who I have partnered with on many other artistic projects.  It was important for me that the project included non-indigenous allies like Zola, who share an anti-oppressive and anticolonial framework, because I believe that the process of decolonization also starts with a dialogue between colonizers and the colonized.   This wasn’t an easy process, and I still have a lot of questions about the way that indigenous and non-indigenous artists can work together without reproducing the usual white supremacist behaviour.   This means reimagining our relationships and our positions, and it definitely remains the hardest aspect for both of us as co-organizers.    

 I hoped the artists would be free to work on the subject in whichever way they deemed fit, and to appropriate the space they wanted in the streets.  As a feminist artist, I tried to invite as many people as possible who identify as women or queer because it is still near-impossible to take our space in the street art scene, because many of us are constantly subjected to patriarchal violence and sexism.  As women, queer, trans, people of colour, and indigenous people, we have to reclaim the space that colonizing white men stole from us.   We need to create safe spaces where we can support each other, and have solidarity around our shared ideas and values.

 With Decolonizing Street Art, I see street art as a useful method of bringing out indigenous visual traditions, through murals, wheatpastes, and other mediums that the artists use to express their demands, identities and histories.  With Decolonizing Street Art, I see the re-emphasis of oral traditions through meet-ups with the public and artists.  Moving beyond dialogue with the public, art must be strongly anchored in the community to be a real part of decolonization.  We need to create strong links between community organizations who work with youth, women, and the elderly.  With the solidarity shown by all the people who participated and helped out with the convergence,  I believe that an essential dialogue on decolonization has started.   It is never too late to make our voices heard, and to abolish colonial structures.

 Tshinashkumitin to all the artists, organizations, and volunteers of DSA.

Cam

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Je me rappelle encore le jour où ma mère m’a racontée pour la première fois cette ‘’anecdote familiale ‘’; alors qu’elle accompagnait ma grand-mère dans des enterrements lorsqu’elle était enfant, elle n’avait pas le droit de poser des questions sur son oncle qui portait des vêtements traditionnels ou à propos des cérémonies autochtones qui s’y déroulaient, c’était toujours un tabou. Je devais avoir 10 ans lorsque ma mère m’a raconté ce souvenir et ce fut alors pour moi la première fois que je prenais conscience de la violence coloniale qui existe sur l’Ile de la Tortue. J’ai été élevée par des parents progressistes, féministes, antiracistes et militants mais je me suis longtemps posée des questions sur mon identité et comment vivre cette identité mixte dans une ville coloniale blanche où les Autochtones sont invisibilisés. Je crois que la réalisation d’un projet comme Decolonizing Street Art porte les traces de mon éducation politisée et me permet de trouver des pistes de réponses à des questionnements dont mes parents n’ont pas eu accès. Ce projet me permet d’amorcer un processus de décolonisation avec moi-même et avec les gens de mon entourage. C’est en refusant et en déconstruisant le système colonial qui a régit les règles sociales et politiques de ma famille que je peux adhérer à un mouvement de décolonisation plus large dans ma communauté et sur mon territoire.

 Quand l’artiste Navajo Tom GreyEyes m’a contacté l’automne dernier après avoir vue l’une de mes œuvres textile intitulée Decolonize Turtle Island, j’étudiais alors loin de chez moi, en France, pays qui a colonisé mon territoire. Tom cherchait à entrer en contact et établir des ponts avec des streets artistes autochtones du Kanata. Nous avons alors commencé à discuter par courriel d’un éventuel projet qui réunirait des artistes autochtones résidant sur l’Ile de la Tortue, échangeant des noms d’artistes qui nous inspirent. À mon retour d’Europe, j’ai alors plongé dans un nouvel univers des plus inspirants, celui des street artistes qui rattachent leur travail aux luttes anticoloniales, qui dédient leur art aux luttes contre les pipelines et à la violence environnemental, l’importance du territoire et la situation des femmes autochtones disparues et assassinées. La convergence a alors pris forme et j’ai compris qu’il y avait un besoin de consolider une communauté d’artistes autochtones qui partagent les mêmes valeurs anticoloniales sur nos territoires occupés et non cédés depuis des siècles.

 J’ai aussi conçue  Decolonizing Street Art avec ma grande amie Zola, complice de plusieurs projets artistiques. C’était important pour moi que ce projet inclut aussi des non-autochtones allié-es qui ont une approche anti-oppressive et anticoloniale dans leur travail comme Zola car je crois qu’un processus de décolonisation commence aussi dans un dialogue entre colonisateurs et colonisés. Cela est très ardu et j’ai encore beaucoup de questionnements aujourd’hui sur la façon dont l’on peut travailler entre artistes autochtones et non-autochtones sans reproduire des comportements de white supremacy. Cela implique de ré-imaginer nos relations et nos positions et je sais que c’est ce qui a été et ce qui est toujours aussi difficile pour nous deux en tant que co-organisatrices.

 J’ai voulue que les artistes soient libres de travailler sur le sujet de leur choix et investir l’espace qu’ils désirent dans la rue. En tant qu’artiste féministe, j’ai invité un plus grand nombre d’artistes qui s’identifient comme femme ou queer car il est toujours aussi difficile, voire impossible de prendre notre place dans le milieu du street art où plusieurs d’entre nous subissent quotidiennement la violence patriarcale et le sexisme. Nous devons en tant que femmes, queer, trans, people of color ou autochtones réclamer ce territoire que l’homme blanc colonisateur nous a volé.  Un safe space où nous pourrons nous supporter et être solidaires dans nos idées et valeurs communes.

 Avec Decolonizing Street Art je crois au pouvoir du street art en tant que revalorisation des traditions visuelles autochtones par les murales, wheatpastes et autres médiums que les artistes ont utilisés pour illustrer leurs revendications, leurs identités et leurs histoires. Avec Decolonizing Street Art, je crois à une revalorisation des traditions orales par les rencontres entre le public et les artistes. Au-delà d’un dialogue avec le public, l’art ne peut faire partie d’une décolonisation sans être ancrée dans la communauté. Nous devons créer des liens durables avec des organismes communautaires qui travaillent les jeunes, les ainés et les femmes. Avec la solidarité de tous les gens qui ont participés et qui nous aidés à réaliser cette convergence, je crois qu’un dialogue essentiel sur la décolonisation à été mis en place. Il n’est jamais trop tard pour faire entendre nos voix et abolir les structures coloniales.

 Tshinashkumitin à tous les artistes, organismes et volontaires de DSA.

Cam