Jesse Tungilik, The Spirit of Intergenerational Trauma, 2019

The piece is among Tungilik’s most searing objects and is explicitly tied to his own family history. His late father, Marius Tungilik, was among the first Inuit to speak publicly about sexual abuse at the hands of Catholic priests and brothers in the North. The trauma he carried became interwoven into Tungilik’s own life, shaping his path as both son and artist. By translating this history into sculpture, Tungilik transforms private pain into a shared act of testimony. The creature that emerges—part animal, part spirit, part machine—becomes a living metaphor for intergenerational trauma: relentless, mutating, and carried on the backs of Survivors’ children.

The work invokes both Inuit material traditions and contemporary art practice. Bones, traditionally used in carving, tools, and spiritual objects, here form a body that is fractured and unsettling. The jagged spine, gaping mouth, and wild mane of hair evoke a monster—one tethered to the land by its materials. The assemblage does not idealize Inuit culture as untouched or static; rather, it exposes how colonialism has twisted familial, spiritual, and cultural relationships into grotesque forms. The fused figure riding the creature’s back intensifies this reading: trauma is never borne alone but clings to future generations.

The work is also inseparable from the broader political context. The Spirit of Intergenerational Trauma was acquired by Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. (NTI), the organization that represents Inuit in Nunavut, as part of its advocacy for justice and reconciliation. NTI has long sought the extradition of a Catholic priest from France, where he has lived since leaving Nunavut in 1993. By placing Tungilik’s sculpture into public circulation, whether in Iqaluit, Ottawa, or France, the work becomes both artwork and activist intervention. It insists that trauma must not be hidden, that Survivors’ voices must be heard, and that perpetrators must face justice.

In this sense, Tungilik’s sculpture refuses closure. The artist himself acknowledges that healing is ongoing and that trauma cannot simply be resolved. The grotesque spirit remains with him, with his family, and with Inuit communities. Yet, in giving it form—bone, hair, horn, tooth—Tungilik creates a way to see and confront what is otherwise invisible. The sculpture is less an exorcism than a companion, a reminder of what has been endured and what still demands redress.

The Spirit of Intergenerational Trauma communicates both testimony and resilience. It confronts the silences of church and state while making visible the endurance of Inuit families who continue to demand accountability. In its evocative presence, the sculpture asserts that reconciliation cannot proceed without justice and that healing begins by naming the spirit that has too long haunted Inuit life.