Art, Truth & Reconciliation

Nadia Myre, Indian Act, 2000–2002

Two rows of small, framed square prints on a gallery wall.

Nadia Myre, Indian Act, 2000–2002, glass beads, pages from the “Indian Act,” adhesive tape, thread, felt, 42.5 x 34.6 x 1.7 cm, installation view from Nadia Myre: Tout ce qui reste – Scattered Remains, November 2017–May 2018, Montreal Museum of Fine Arts.

In Indian Act, Nadia Myre (b.1974) of Kitigan Zibi Anishinabeg First Nation, Quebec, stages a decisive encounter between the colonial legal framework that has governed Indigenous lives in Canada and an Indigenous practice—beadwork—whose codes, labour, and protocols surpass that system. Across fifty-six pages of the Act, Myre and community members replaced every printed word with white glass beads and filled the background with red beads. The result is both illegible and hyper-legible: illegible because the words are obscured and hyper-legible because the repetition and weight of beading amplify the law’s totalizing presence. Meaning is no longer read but worked—through hands, stitches, and the durational rhythms of a beading circle.

White letters on red embroidery against a black fabric background.

Nadia Myre, The Scar Project, 2005–13, rope, wool, thread, nails, and perforations on canvas, 25.5 x 25.5 cm (each element), Musée national des beaux-arts du Québec.

This transformation matters politically. The 1876 Indian Act is still a living instrument of governance. By reworking it through collective labour, Myre dislodges its bureaucratic authority and resituates it in relation through collective beading practices that bring participants into shared space and exchange, a place where knowledge is produced and shared. Weekly “beading bees” became sites of gathering and counter-legality where the bead, a unit of care, replaced the word, a unit of control. In exhibition, this serial installation produces a sense of accumulation: each page similar but not the same, marked by many hands rather than a single author. The work highlights “gaps in translation” between text and beadwork, which function less as deficits than as spaces of ethical encounter. With the rise of discourse surrounding the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC), Indian Act gained renewed significance. It became a model of aesthetics as counter-jurisprudence, materializing the endurance of law while demonstrating how Indigenous practice can overwrite it through relation, repetition, and care.


If Indian Act re-patterns the law, The Scar Project, 2005–13, turns toward the intimate archive of the body. Over many years, Myre invited participants to stitch their scars into small canvases and to write accompanying narratives. The project is both workshop and installation, a process of shared making and a visual field of hundreds of repaired surfaces, each bearing pain and resilience. Unlike projects that mobilize or use community, The Scar Project is non-extractive, leaving trauma in place. Participants retain authorship over their squares; Myre’s role was that of host and assembler. As the project travelled from friendship centres to museums and biennials, its circle of contributors expanded, forming a commons of scars. Indigenous and non-Indigenous wounds appear together, reframing harm as uneven but shared and refusing the singular narrative of trauma often projected onto Indigenous art.


In TRC and post-TRC contexts, its relevance is clear. The Scar Project offers a practical aesthetics of testimony that neither sensationalizes nor silences wounds. It creates conditions for scars to be named, seen, and held, transforming the exhibition into a temporary community of care. Along with Indian Act, both works exemplify art as testimony and care, remaking structures of harm into forms of resilience and knowledge.

Collection of A New Generation of Witness

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Michael Barber, A Silent Sky, 2022

Two stained glass windows in a dark gallery.

Christi Belcourt, Giniigaaniimenaaning (Looking Ahead), 2012

A woman clad in t-shirt and jeans kneels. Her mouth is taped with a piece of duct tape.

Rebecca Belmore, Apparition, 2013

Yellow beads piled on a piece of leather.

Rain Cabana-Boucher, Laying Flowers, 2021–24

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Quill Christie-Peters, Portrait of Ste. Margaret’s Residential School and All It Could Not Contain, 2018

Three figures—a mother and her two daughters—in elaborate, colourful regalia

Dana Claxton, Headdress – Shadae and her Girlz, 2023

a worn studio chair once housed in a former residential school

Beau Dick, The Ghost Confined to the Chair, 2012

Four figures in white outfits with red accessories pose in a dark forest.

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7IDANsuu James Hart, Reconciliation Pole: Honouring a Time Before, During and After Canada’s Indian Residential Schools, 2015–17

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Emma Hassencahl-Perley, White Flag, 2015

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Brent Henry, English Only!, 2021

A carved pole in unpainted wood stands in a gallery.

Shawn Hunt, Flipping the Bird, 2014

A girl in a uniform stands in a darkened school.

Lisa Jackson, Savage, 2009

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Duane Linklater, i want to forget the english language, ulterior, 2020/23

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Jim Logan, National Pastimes, 1991

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A woman stands in a snowy forest, Faded text on the right in a diptych.

Meryl McMaster, Truth to Power, 2017

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A black and white, close-up image of the face of a young girl.

Caroline Monnet, The Black Case, 2014

A pile of erasers on a round table.

Tim Moore, Erasure Is Futile, 2021

Two people, one man and a woman, perform in a gallery before an artwork on the floor.

Peter Morin, This is what happens when you perform the memory of the land (parts 1 and 2), 2013

An artwork depicting 415 hanks of braided hair.

Saige “Nalakwsis” Mukash, 415 Braids, 2021

Two rows of small, framed square prints on a gallery wall.

Nadia Myre, Indian Act, 2000–2002

Gallery installation of a sprawling panorama of decorated wooden frames.

Carey Newman, Witness Blanket, 2013–14

An Inuit child kneels as a suited authority figure, likely a teacher, is poised to strike the youth’s hands with a ruler.

Davidee Ningeok, Sr., Residential School Nightmare, 2015

In a sequence of fixed, frontal photographic images, an Indigenous woman returns the camera’s gaze as the words on her shirt change, each iteration naming another facet of dispossession.

Shelley Niro, The Shirt, 2003

A housefront structure painted in acrylic on birch plywood, pine, and presswood, fifty-five contributors transformed it into a neon-painted butterfly where each panel embodies a personal interpretation of reconciliation. 

Luke Parnell, Neon Reconciliation Explosion, 2020

A girl wearing a school uniform holds a lie-sized photograph of a school uniform.

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A black and white photograph overlayed with brightly-coloured speech bubbles.

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A photograph of a two-story institutional building in a snowy landscape.

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An Inuit man is torn between a Raven spirit and a Catholic missionary.

Jason Sikoak, Sacrilege, 2015

A piece of paper bearing a grid of the phrase "Do’-gah"

Greg Staats, Do’-gah – I don’t know [shrugging shoulders], 2020

A grandmother figure, rendered in a black-and-white photograph, sitting at a kitchen table, surrounded by painted luminous colour.

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A panorama composed of five photographs that respond to the ongoing dispute over the Haldimand Tract land claim.

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An assemblage fashioned from animal bones, hair, and other organic materials native to Nunavut

Jesse Tungilik, The Spirit of Intergenerational Trauma, 2019

Layered imagery of women and girls in regimented poses.

Tania Willard, Be a Good Girl, 2017

Nadia Myre, Indian Act, 2000–2002 - Art Canada