
It's hard to be an artist in the Yukon (or anywhere). How can a brand new art prize help?
CBC
For the first time ever, the Yukon Prize for Visual Arts will be handed out Saturday in Whitehorse. As its name suggests, the award is a regional one, and it intends to celebrate top artists from the territory in a biannual affair. The inaugural crew of finalists reveals a wide-ranging breadth of talent. On the shortlist: Tlingit carver Ken Anderson; multidisciplinary artists Amy Ball, Krystle Silverfox and Joseph Tisiga; fashion designer Sho Sho "Belelige" Esquiro and sculptor Veronica Verkley.
The event was co-founded by Julie Jai and David Trick, part-time Whitehorse residents who are personally sponsoring the prize. A $20,000 purse will be delivered to the weekend's big winner, with the remaining finalists receiving $2,000 each. As for the business of selecting the champion, that will be carried out by a three-person jury of notable curators from outside the Yukon: Ryan Doherty (Contemporary Calgary), Gaetane Verna (Power Plant Contemporary Art Gallery) and Candice Hopkins.
That trio was also responsible for selecting the six-person shortlist, and work by the finalists is now appearing at the Yukon Arts Centre in Whitehorse. That exhibition, which opened Sept. 18, may travel elsewhere in the country in the months to come. And the notion of bringing Yukon Prize artists to the rest of Canada happens to be one of the competition's founding principles.
The award will, of course, benefit a single artist, giving them whatever creative freedom $20,000 might buy. But it also seeks to boost the profile of Yukon art beyond the region's borders.
The territory is uniquely flush with creative talent. Based on data from the 2016 long-form census, it's home to more artists per capita than most places in Canada. (The Yukon ranks third in the country, behind Nunavut and B.C.) But special to the Yukon, most of those folks are visual artists.
Still, maintaining an art practice isn't simple anywhere, even if you're living among a high concentration of like-minded individuals. And per the organizers' vision, the prize aims to ease a few of the challenges facing locals. It's a bid to forge ties with the Canadian art world at large — galleries, collectors, curators, artists. And should the outsiders accept the invitation and have a look, there's every hope that the existing art community will benefit from the exposure, creatively as well as financially.
Making new connections is crucial to an artist's growth, says finalist Veronica Verkley. "I think it's really helpful to be part of a big community — to be connected with other artists, with galleries, that whole community. You just get more fired up than if you're just by yourself," she says, though at the same time, remote living sometimes benefits locals as much as it challenges them.
15 years ago, Verkley left Toronto for the north. The artist was drawn there by a job at the Yukon School of Visual Arts, and she's a founding faculty member of that particular institution. She's lived "off grid" for the most part, making her home in a cabin outside Dawson City. "There's pluses and minuses," says Verkley of working in relative solitude. "There's a lot of mental space to just do whatever you want." But as much as she thrives off the freedom, there is such a thing as being too isolated, and she says it can be difficult as a Yukon-based artist to plug into what's happening in contemporary art more widely.
Meeting other local artists isn't the challenge, she says. "Everyone is very connected and supportive of each other. What's harder to come by in a small community is to get more critical feedback," says Verkley, and on that point, she sees the creation of the Yukon Prize for Visual Arts as a real step toward that end.
But first, you have to get everybody's attention, and many of the shortlisted artists have faith the prize will do just that. "I feel like a lot of people look at the Yukon as a tourist destination rather than a home," says finalist Krystle Silverfox. "I really hope that this prize makes people take a second look at the Yukon." Fellow shortlister Joseph Tisiga (who was among the 2020 winners of the Sobey Art Award) is optimistic. "I'm kind of hoping in a way that this prize … shows people that there's really interesting and complicated work that's being made by Yukoners — speaking to the Yukon community, but also even more broadly, more nationally."
That variety is on display in the shortlist exhibition, and Tisiga says he's excited just to be included in the mix. His own contribution includes an installation of 25 astroturf panels: fuzzy green canvases on which he's counted time with cigarette butts. They spell a mix of poetic fragments ("terrified w/ a belly full of dynamite"), activist slogans ("land back") and Enya lyrics.
The work appearing in the show takes a range of forms. Esquiro, a member of the Ross River Dena Council, is known internationally for her work as a fashion designer, and she's included a jacket in the exhibition — one incorporating the sort of natural materials she often sources off the land: moose hair, for example, and seal skin. Verkley's contribution is Suspended Animation, a life-size horse with articulated joints that's been assembled from found materials. It's a clumsy beast, waiting to come to life; if enough gallery visitors pool their strength, it can be hoisted up by rope.
"Maybe this [prize] will lead to work being shown elsewhere in the country or outside of the country," says Ball, another finalist. The artist had been living abroad until just before the pandemic hit. Raised in Dawson City, where she's currently based, she'd been living and working in Berlin, and before that, Montreal, where she studied art at Concordia University.
"There are issues everywhere," says Ball, talking about the challenges facing artists. But there are some problems that are unique to the Yukon, and those problems go beyond the scope of what an art prize might solve.