4 days ago
At age 69, Inuk artist Shirley Moorhouse is having a moment
"This is the ensemble of the lady who has everything," Shirley Moorhouse says, reaching for an opulent seal skin apron, which is pinned to the wall of her Happy Valley-Goose Bay studio.
The 69-year-old Inuk artist is one of 30 artists on the long list for the 2025 Sobey Art Award. With a top prize of $100,000, it's among the most prestigious art awards in the country.
"It's a full seal skin cut out in ulu shapes on the bottom. It's lined on the top with rabbit skin," she explains.
"I made a seal skin oven glove that was lined with rabbit. And a little silver claw, which is absolutely useless."
A handbag, a wine goblet and a pair of high heels — adorned with seal and rabbit skin — complete the look, Moorhouse says, along with the "most useless crown in the whole wide world." Lined with seal skin, this crown bears spikes made of barbecue skewers, all dipped in blue, black and silver beads.
"I like lushness, you know," said Moorhouse. "Lushness and fullness and happiness and sparkles."
In fact, Moorhouse seems to sparkle with joy — especially as her art career continues to take off.
Moorhouse's solo exhibition, "ᐃᔨ -Eyes" is opening at The Rooms in St. John's on Tuesday. The exhibition is a retrospective, celebrating 30 years of her work.
"To have one of your pieces shown at The Rooms is, you know, marvellous enough for me, but to have a solo exhibition in the main hall over the summer season when it's going to be busiest, and then to have publication after that, it's unreal," she said.
That publication, Moorhouse explains, is an upcoming book showcasing her art, which is geared toward general and academic audiences. Her piece Canadian Sovereignty of the Northern Lights is also slated for display at the National Gallery of Canada this October.
Moorhouse said she's blown away by all of the recognition.
"The Sobey long list is just like a pot of gold a leprechaun left for me," she said.
And although she's surprised by the sudden momentum of her art career, Moorhouse said that as an artist in Nunatsiavut, who worked for years to make inroads with artistic institutions, this also feels like a true moment of reconciliation.
"Through this path, I'm coming up to 70 years old now," Moorhouse said.
"A whole lot of streams, a whole lot of rivulets, [are] all finely braided into this particular time."
Back to school at 65
Moorhouse was just a baby, blinking in her crib, when the first seed of her upcoming exhibition was planted. She said her grandmother took one look at her and called her ijiik, the Inuktitut word for "eyes."
"I thought it meant originally about the shape of my eyes, but later I came to know it meant more," she said. "My eyes are grabbing the history around me, recording it, and I try to record it in any way possible that I can."
As a child, Moorhouse said she kept busy creating, colouring and reading. But school was a challenge, and she ultimately dropped out of high school. Later, Moorhouse completed her high school diploma.
Opportunity knocked in 1995, when the Labrador College — now known as the College of the North Atlantic in Happy Valley-Goose Bay — ran a two-year diploma course in heritage crafts. For her first project, Moorhouse created her very first wall hanging. That piece caught the eye of Mi'kmaq artist Jerry Evans, who was working on a book about Indigenous artists in the province at the time.
Over the years, Moorhouse continued creating, writing poetry, producing more of her distinctive, renowned wall hangings, and occasionally exhibiting her work. But her career kicked into high gear a couple of years ago, when she pursued her master's degree in fine arts at Memorial University's Grenfell campus in Corner Brook.
"I figured, well, I got to do something different. It was just my 65th birthday," she said.
Heading back to school in her 60s wasn't exactly easy. Moorhouse had to get used to all the latest technology. But the inclusive Grenfell fine arts program was "just amazing," she said.
"If I can do it, so can you," she said.
Recognition a 'sign of reconciliation' for Indigenous artists
Moorhouse looks around her studio, full of gratitude. This space is a recent development, secured through a grant from the Newfoundland and Labrador Arts Council.
A ledge beneath her window holds enough space for "the acres and the mileage and the poundable of beads" used in her work. The windows are draped in shimmering, sheer tulle, resembling "gossamer thoughts, or gossamer colours caught in thoughts."
Moorhouse said things have certainly changed for Nunatsiavut artists during her lifetime. When she began creating art, there was no recognition or help from the provincial and federal governments.
She also says Inuit history was "basically ignored" in school curriculums, and Indigenous artists had to fight for space in artistic institutions.
"Coming into The Rooms now as an Indigenous artist at my age, you know, it's a very satisfying period in my life. I'm more than satisfied. I'm grateful every day," she said.
"The Indigenous people of Newfoundland and Labrador are finally getting recognition within the institutions that should have included us in the first place."
With each new piece, Moorhouse said, she's also carrying on Inuit traditions her own family practiced for survival.
"Now, you know, a couple of generations later, here I am doing it as art," she said. "Which is absolutely wonderful."
