In [Indigenous societies that use circular rather than linear thinking], mutual respect and recognition must always exist among members. This makes it possible to apply the law of consensus, as opposed to the coercive authority invested by linear societies in, for example, a police force. However, a society in which the law of consensus applies cannot become too large. Once it reaches a certain size, it breaks up into subgroups in order to preserve a high degree of social cohesion within each community. Speaking of this latent tendency for Wendat communities to subdivide, geographer Conrad Heidenreich explains that “village co-operation increases as population numbers decrease, and lack of co-operation increases when more and more people are involved.” He feels that the Wendat (as well as their neighbours) did not have the social mechanisms (such as coercion by police) to cope with large numbers of people if these did not wish to co-operate. However, if we look at the question from the circular perspective, we see a society of people unaccustomed to compromising their individual or group independence – a society that must have developed an instinct to subdivide when the need became apparent. There was, as a rule, no intention of making a definitive break; on the contrary, the aim of regrouping in a smaller unit was to prevent relationships from deteriorating, thereby preserving the basic unity that all Wendat took for granted.
— Eatenonha: Native Roots of Modern Democracy by Georges Sioui. Sioui is a Wendat historian, poet, philosopher, and activist from Quebec.
Quote continues under the cut (on Jesuit descriptions of Wendat culture, political organization, and consensus-based leadership style)
The virtues of this social art did not escape the Jesuits, who in 1636 remarked on Wendat government as follows:
"They have a gentleness almost incredible for savages. They are not easily annoyed, and moreover, if they have received wrong from anyone they often conceal the resentment they feel –– at least, one finds here very few who make a public display of anger and vengeance. They maintain themselves in this perfect harmony by frequent visits; by help they give one another in times of sickness, by feasts and by alliances. When they are not busy with their fields, hunting, fishing, or trading, they are less in their own houses than in those of their friends; if they fall sick, or desire anything for their health, there is a rivalry as to who will show himself most obliging. If they have something better than usual … they make a feast for their friends, and hardly ever eat it alone."
Next, here are two observations of Trigger [a Canadian historian] on chiefship, on the personal qualities needed to be a Chief, and on some of the social commitments and obligations implicated by such role.
"[Wendat] Chiefs had no constitutional authority to coerce their followers or to force their will on anyone. Moreover, individual Wendats were sensitive about their honour and intolerant of external constraints, and friends and relatives would rally to the support of someone who believed himself insulted by a Chief. Overbearing behaviour by a Chief might, therefore, encourage violent reaction and lead to conflicts within or between lineages. In the long run, Chiefs who behaved arrogantly or foolishly tended to alienate support and would be deposed by their own lineages. The ideal [Wendat] Chief was a wise and brave man who understood his followers and won their support by means of his generosity, persuasiveness, and balanced judgment."
Again, Bruce Trigger on leadership:
"Being a Chief, especially a civil Chief (as opposed to Chief of defence, or “war” Chief), required the expenditure of considerable time and wealth. They were expected to entertain their supporters as well as to provide hospitality for visitors. They also had to travel considerable distances to attend meetings, sometimes in very bad weather. The Chief at whose house a meeting was held was obliged to provide food and entertainment for his visitors. This required him and his family to work harder than anyone else to produce the food that had to be given away to validate his public office. Likewise, most of the goods that Chiefs received as presents or from their control of trade routes had to be given away to maintain the reputation for generosity without which a Chief would have no support. The more influential a Chief, which meant the larger were the number of people in whose name he spoke, the greater was the scale on which he had to provide feasts and give away exotic goods."
Finally, and coming right back to where and when our country, Canada, had its beginning (Quebec City, 1535), I am giving an illustration, here reported by a Recollet missionary, of how these quintessential qualities that constitute a leader found expression in a circular-thinking (matricentric) society, be it sedentary, such as the Stadacona (Nadowek) or nomadic, such as the Mi’kmaq (Algonquian).
Jacques Cartier noted in 1535 that the Stadacona Chief Donnacona, who he styled in his writings “the Lord” or “King of Canada,” was no better off than his people, who “live with almost everything in common.” In this, he was no different from all other Amerindian Chiefs in the Northeast and in the Americas generally, who only held office by virtue of their capacity and readiness for giving. The Recollet Chrestien Le Clercq detected this spiritual quality in a Micmac (now more accurately named Mi’kmaq) Chief during the 1680s.
"He made it a point of honor to be always the worst dressed and to see to it that all his people were better clothed than he, having as a maxim, so he told me one day, that a Sovereign and great heart like his should rather care for others than for himself; because being the good hunter that he was, he would never have trouble getting everything he needed; that in any case, if he didn’t eat well, he would find what he wished in the affections and in the hearts of his subjects; as if he wanted to say that his treasures and wealth were in the hearts and good-will of his people."
9. Wyandot style contemporary art pot, 2022, Richard Zane Smith
The last piece this blog will look at is Richard Zane Smith’s 2022 Wyandot style contemporary art pot. A Wendat, or Wyandot, based in Oklahoma and part of the Bear Clan, his Wendat name is Sqhahiyo, or “On a Good Path” in their language (Chimayo Trading, 2020). On top of being an artist, he is a scholar and teacher of Indigenous art seeking to restore traditional art forms. This pot is housed in the Misko Aki collection alongside the first, pre-contact pieces we looked at, including the ceramic vessel fragments (Huron-Wendat | Misko Aki, 2022).
Inspired by his research on ancient Wendat pottery and ceramics, Smith created this pot to highlight key artistic elements and designs he uncovered in his research.
Smith’s pot is similar in shape to the recovered pre-contact ceramic vessel we looked at in our very first piece on this blog. Instead of a castellated rim, the otherwise smooth and rounded rim has two jutting out ridges across from each other, potentially to make them easy to hold or attach handles to, or simply to reflect the unique rim styles seen on traditional pots. Triangular designs and parallel lines are etched into the collar of the pot, which is just one colour. The rest of the pot is glazed with various painted designs – from floral motifs to triangular shapes like the chevron style in the sash. This is an artistic liberty reflecting more colonial times – the use of flowers, like in the calling card trays, appeased European eyes and interests, marking a departure from ornamentation being limited to geometric designs. The colours, though varied, are muted, creating tones and hues reminiscent of those that came from dyeing traditional goods with vegetable dyes. One of the main flowers in this design may be the elder thistle, the same European flower used on the calling cards (Sioui & de Stecher, 2014). The flowers are separated from each other by swatches of geometric design, none of these elements touching, creating distance. All these designs are painted against a black background, creating contrast with the top of the vase. Pre-contact ceramic vessels were meant to display social status, a source of pride (Huron-Wendat | Misko Aki, 2022). Smith effectively captures this narrative with this pot.
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
The second contemporary piece, and our second last piece in this blog, is Ludovic Boney’s NSPLL!!. This is a 2021 installation piece. Born in Wendake, Boney specializes in large-scale public art projects that have been featured in museums across Quebec. Boney is inspired by modern, urban infrastructure, often using various building materials and things he finds on the streets, to comment on the intersection between art and architecture, the natural world and the manufactured (Perrault, 2018).
NSPLL is an acronym for the words Boney’s mom would say as a kid to get him to stop jumping on the bed. The installation is one that the viewer must interact with, walking through a maze of mattresses surrounded on either side by kinetic elements all springing to life when the mattresses are stepped on (Perrault, 2018).
The elements triggered by stepping on the mattresses are quick to capture attention, a comment on the fast-paced world created by overconsumption and capitalism. It rejects this modern approach by contrasting it with the natural world (Perrault, 2018). Items range from plastic animal toys to objects representing outdoor activities like swimming, hunting and fishing. All items are superficial, yet recall some element of the outdoors. Presented with these superficial experiences of nature created by overconsumption, it encourages the viewer to place importance back on the land and the outdoors.
While not directly commenting on his Wendat heritage, Boney’s NSPLL!! recalls land ethics and traditional ways of being central to the Wendat way of life. He reminds us of what living on the land can look like through deep contrasts with the plastic items we consume. He depicts skills that his people once relied on to survive, like fishing and hunting, to contrast the hedonism of spending and consumption in the modern era. He is reclaiming public-facing art – using it to develop messaging for those outside of his community and rejecting Western capitalistic ways of being.
7. The Wendat People's Fresco, 2008, Murale Creation, Manon Sioui, and Franine Picard
The first modern piece we will look at is The Wendat People’s Fresco. This painted mural, created by Murale Creation in partnership with Manon Sioui and Francine Picard, is featured in Place de la Nation by the Saint-Charles River. It was revealed on October 10th, 2008 as a commission by La Capitale Nationale (Fresque du peuple Wendat, 2024).
The fresco is one of numerous instances of the Quebec and Quebec City governments to highlight the forgotten histories of the Wendat people who migrated to the area following displacement from their traditional territories (Huron-Wendat Fresco, 2019). The Huron-Wendat museum is another such place combining art and science to unearth this history to citizens and tourists. This fresco is fully public – free of charge to visit, and right at an intersection on Bastien Boulevard Huron-Wendat Fresco, 2025).
The mural depicts key elements of Wendat culture across time, depicting pre-contact ways of life, important symbols, and modern day Wendat in scenes combined by stitched-together animal hides. The fresco is supposed to represent the union and survival of Wendat men and women through social lives, relationships, and commercial activities (Fresque du peuple Wendat, 2024). Pre-contact ways of being, ranging from canoeing to growing and farming the three sisters (corns, bean, squash) are depicted on the sides, with the modern Wendat people in the very centre. The two figures seem to be in the middle of playing a song. To their left is a wolf howling, and to the right is a turtle resting on a rock. Above them is a turtle encircled by petroglyph looking figures. On the turtle’s shell is Turtle Island. Like with the pre-contact tortoise shell pendant, there is a clear recall of important symbolic animals. The mural is surrounded on either side by greenery, making it blend into the natural surroundings.
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
6. Lord Elgin's tray, ~1847-1854, Marguerite Vincent “Lawinonkié"
The last piece from the contact era is Lord Elgin’s tray. This is a tray for calling cards made sometime between 1847 and 1854. This tray is made by Marguerite Vincent “Lawinonkié,”, a Wendat artist. Born in the Bay of Quinte in 1783, she came from a long lineage of Wendat who converted to Christianity. Her Wendat name, Lawinonkié, means “beautiful young woman” (Répertoire du patrimoine culturel du Québec, 2018). She, and many women in her community, crafted moccasins and other items for sale to tourists to make money. Many had traditional means of sustaining themselves like agriculture taken away from them through land displacement, so oftentimes crafting was necessary. She began a workshop in 1830, leading other Wendat women in the community in the production of various artisanal items, specializing in moosehair and quill embroidery. For this reason, many speculate if she was the artist of these trays, or if they were a shared task by her and other Wendat women (Sioui & de Stetcher, 2014).
This tray was specifically made as a gift for Lord and Lady Elgin to receive calling cards on. Lord Elgin was the Governor General of Canada and head of the British settler administration at the time. The calling card tray created a direct means for the Wendat community to approach him and communicate with him, setting up opportunities for Wendat diplomacy adapted to settler Victorian era norms (Sioui & de Stetcher, 2014).
The base of the tray is birch bark, then adorned with embroidery style moose hair and cotton thread in a floral pattern around the Lord and Lady’s initials and a crown. The colours of the moose hair were achieved using vegetable dyes. The embroidery was done using techniques from the Ursuline convent nuns in Quebec, showing how Wendat women were able to adapt European practices to native materials to make economically viable goods under the colonial administration. Key design elements include the heraldic thistle, an icon very common in European Elgin tradition but unheard of to the Wendat, mixed with native plants important to the Wendat like strawberries (Sioui & de Stetcher, 2014).
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
The fifth piece we will look at is this sash from 1830, made by an artist once known. This particular sash is housed at The Met. Sashes were a common clothing item, often worn tied around the waist and with woven ties resting at the knees. Sashes acted like belts and often held up pants. Sashes were finger woven and worn by women and men alike, but were almost always weaved by women (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019). Men could also wear them around their chest to carry heavy loads, or wrap smaller ones around their heads in a similar style to turbans (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019). With their intricate designs made of different dyed threads, they are both decorative and functional.
This sash is made of wool yarn. The wool is dyed red, gold and white and woven together into chevron motifs running parallel all the way along the scarf body. Both ends of this sash are tasselled, and adorned with small, rounded glass beads. The use of glass beads is evidence of contact and trade with European settlers; these goods would have been imported to North America from Europe (Canadian Museum of History, n.d.).
Wendat sashes are made by finger weaving, an ancient, passed-down practice from before the loom was created (Ligon, 2024). There are hundreds of diverse finger weaving patterns and stitches out there, but this sash uses the chevron pattern (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019). This creates the arrow-like triangular pattern that goes down the sash. Finger weaving cannot create loops or stitches nearly as tight as what is possible on a loom, so pieces like sashes can sag or seem loose. This looseness creates loops and holes in the fabric that are used to attach items (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019). Finger weaving is a time-consuming process. Like with ceramics, a sash is representative of social status (Ligon, 2024). Wendat who wear them had the time and resources to dedicate to these projects. When men wore them, they were a public symbol of the love and care of the maker, whether it be their wife or mother (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2019).
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
We will now begin to look at Wendat pieces from the contact period. The first is a pair of moccasins made in 1800 by an artist once known. Currently on display at the Met Museum’s Infinity of Nations exhibit, these moccasins are an example of extraordinary craftmanship, marking an era of more tools and resources made available through linked trade networks with other Indigenous nations and with Europeans that allowed for these moccasins to be made (Wendat (Huron) moccasins, n.d.).
Moccasins are a staple shoe of various woodland tribes and nations, with each one having variations in style and design, and design choices changing over time. This specific pair is made from deerskin hide, porcupine quill, metal cones, horse hair, and various dyes. Moccasins were typically made from one to three pieces of leather – one to envelope the foot, an apron piece to cover the top of the foot, and then a collar to encircle and close off the shoe (The history of the moccasin, 2025). Deer hide is the specific leather this piece is made of, although other Wendat reportedly used hides from animals like beavers. Deer hide retained its suppleness through a wide range of temperatures and could be used with snowshoes or water expeditions by canoe (The history of the moccasin, 2025).
The National Museum of the American Indian noted various design choices that indicated a serious talent in the maker – the deerskin is darkened, the seam running down the centre is very clean, and of course, the embellishments using quills and metal cuffs is very detailed (Wendat (Huron) moccasins – n.d.). Porcupine quills were one of the earliest crafting tools used by the Wendat, a pre cursor to beading, which became more common with European trading (Duval, 2020). These hollow and barbed pieces are woven together then sewn onto the moccasin hide. The quills are used to disguise a lot of the seam work. They are died three different colours – red, yellow, and black. Along the cuff, most quills are red, with a reoccurring pattern of yellow and black quills interspersed throughout. Metal cuffs ending in dyed red horse hair line the parts of the shoe under the collar, and also embellish the middle seam. These would have come from European traders. These little cuffs are called pendants.
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
3. Pendant/Bracelet Fragment, 1450 C.E., Artist Once Known
The third piece we will look at in this blog is this pendant made by an artist once known, dated to 1450 C.E. It is on loan from the Huron-Wendat Nation and currently on display at the Misko Aki museum. The museum has it labelled as a pendant and/or fragment of a bracelet (Huron-Wendat | Misko Aki, 2022).
This piece is carved from tortoiseshell. This is a rare Wendat carving material. Tortoiseshells were often used as tools for crafting, not for the craft itself. More commonly used to make jewelry are bivalve shells. In both cases, tortoise and bivalve, shells are difficult to process without sturdy tools. Jewelry made from these items was typically only found in larger, inland communities, where there were more of these processed resources available (Jamieson, 2016).
The piece is made from a rectangular piece of shell, with a simple design of a ladder and snake etched into it. Archaeologists assume that the pendant was potentially used for spiritual purposes (Huron-Wendat | Misko Aki, 2022). The turtle was representative of all the land of Turtle Island, or North America (Culture, n.d.). Making an item from their shells was a very rare occurrence, probably to honour the land turtle. The snake, which in the piece snakes in a line parallel to the ladder, is also a creature of great importance. For Indigenous nations across Turtle Island, snakes have cosmological and cultural meanings. They may be associated with rivers and running water, and the spirituality of these sources of life (Boutet, 2013).
Archaeologists postulate that the ladder is representative of the route down to the underworld, while the snake is representative of life. This discussion of life and death in the otherwise simple fragment, created using rarely used material, is further evidence of this item being used for spiritual purposes. At the very least, the object is a token of great power.
For an introductory overview of the Wendat people and purpose of this project, you can check out my first post. To see my sources, you can click here.
