The native people of Arctic Alaska live in one of the earth’s more remote locations yet are centrally bound in complex global dynamics. The monetary economy of Alaska’s North Slope is almost entirely based on fossil fuel extraction, while the effects of climate change caused by these very industries are felt disproportionately here: it is one of the fastest warming parts of the earth.
This photographic collage is based on many months spent in Arctic Alaska, over the course of several years. It explores the tensions between the traditional subsistence-based cultures and economies of the native peoples of Arctic Alaska and the globalized consumer culture that exists alongside these traditions, yet in certain respects, including through localized industrial impacts and climate change, threatens to undermine them.
This exemplifies the conundrum that we all find ourselves in.
Every image is from Arctic Alaska. Most are from the village of Anaktuvuk Pass, with a few from Nuiqsut, one from Allakaket, one from Fairbanks, and several from surrounding lands (including the Dalton Highway and Gates of the Arctic National Park). The only image I did not take is a map produced by BP.
This photographic collage is based on many months spent in Arctic Alaska, over the course of several years. It explores the tensions between the traditional subsistence-based cultures and economies of the native peoples of Arctic Alaska and the globalized consumer culture that exists alongside these traditions, yet in certain respects, including through localized industrial impacts and climate change, threatens to undermine them.
This exemplifies the conundrum that we all find ourselves in.
Every image is from Arctic Alaska. Most are from the village of Anaktuvuk Pass, with a few from Nuiqsut, one from Allakaket, one from Fairbanks, and several from surrounding lands (including the Dalton Highway and Gates of the Arctic National Park). The only image I did not take is a map produced by BP.
Arctic Alaska Map
Source: Google Earth
The collage is organized in a series of photo pairs. The vertical picture at center is the only exception, as it includes its own pair. Most are obvious based on vicinity to one another within the collage, similar size, or similar visual content. Each represents a tension—between tradition and change, local and foreign, organic and industrial. My focus here is on material culture—an exploration of the sacred in everyday things. People are more indirectly featured.
The intended organization is roughly on a diagonal from upper left to lower right, with the images at these corners forming the first pair. However, upon completion, I noticed that nearly every person and animal, living or dead, is facing to the left. This was entirely unintentional, but perhaps significant.
Raven is our guide. This is appropriate as raven is a central figure in many indigenous cultures, including for the Inuit of Arctic Alaska. I can only claim to have a cursory knowledge of the significance of ravens in Inuit culture; this collage is thus the creative interpretation of an outsider. In Inuit lore, Raven is a complex figure who is both creator and trickster, a shapeshifter who brought light to humans, played an important role in creating the landscape and social organization, and yet is often foolish and duped by other creatures.
One story tells of human destructiveness: people were killing all the animals so raven hid the sun in a bag. Eventually he was tricked, and the sun was restored. Another tells of raven’s impatience: raven was turned from black to white when loon threw soot in response to raven’s hasty tattooing. Others tell of raven’s failed attempts at joining geese on migratory flights—drowning in the sea along the way. At a local level however, raven has often been conceived as nearly omniscient—powerful in part because of its ability to fly and thus acquire knowledge inaccessible to humans.
This collage tells a new story where humans have attained and surpassed raven’s power of flight, the enhanced perception this allows, as well as the power to bring light into darkness. We begin with ravens soaring through an empty blue sky beside an image of a rainbow. The bow is inverted at bottom in the form of an oil pipeline where the energy of the sun is contained and funneled. It may be that the latent human potential for destructiveness can no longer be held in check by raven’s power over light.
Raven has been outshined by Ravn—otherwise known as Corvus Airlines—one of the major carriers in the state, which serves remote communities like those pictured. These villages are off the road system in “bush” Alaska. The airplane is thus the primary connection to link distant locations and to move goods and people. It also means that things tend to arrive, but never leave.
I worked in Anaktuvuk Pass on a small project focused on documenting local climate change observations, particularly at the intersection with subsistence—a direct dependence on the land for livelihood through hunting, fishing, and gathering. When I asked elders about changes, they would often begin by telling me about settling into the village, and later moving from sod into wooden houses, or transitioning from dog teams to snowmachines. I would have to prod a bit to convey my specific interest in changes on the landscape. Though a bit frustrating from the standpoint of an interviewer, it is clear these are connected. The contemporary forces at play—the airplane, imported food and goods, oil development, and others, have proceeded in tandem with climate change. It may not thus be so simple to parse out the changes that have occurred.
The village of Anaktuvuk Pass began in 1949 when the Nunamiut Iñupiat—the People of the Caribou—one of the last semi-nomadic peoples of North America, settled on a broad pass with ample willows and vast herds of migrating caribou. Anaktuvuk is an anglicized form of the Inupiaq place name, which means the place of caribou droppings. A key reason for settling was to gain access to the goods and services brought by airplane. The first great industrial incursion into Arctic Alaska was the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and support road connecting Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean to Valdez on Prince William Sound. Bulldozers roared into Anaktuvuk Pass in 1969, sent by Governor Wally Hickel. Ultimately the pipeline, completed in 1977, followed a different route, thus maintaining the community’s relative isolation.
Today, the large caribou migrations of the past have all but ceased coming through Anaktuvuk Pass. The reasons for this are complex, but almost certainly relate to a variety of industrial developments, including the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and supporting road, which enables easy access to the area by outsiders; noisy industrial development in Anaktuvuk Pass village; new hunting practices enabled by mechanized transportation like snowmobiles and ATVs; and climate change, which is driven by industrial development on a global scale, including the oil extraction taking place on the North Slope.
In appropriating raven’s power, we have traded away parts of raven’s creation.
The intended organization is roughly on a diagonal from upper left to lower right, with the images at these corners forming the first pair. However, upon completion, I noticed that nearly every person and animal, living or dead, is facing to the left. This was entirely unintentional, but perhaps significant.
Raven is our guide. This is appropriate as raven is a central figure in many indigenous cultures, including for the Inuit of Arctic Alaska. I can only claim to have a cursory knowledge of the significance of ravens in Inuit culture; this collage is thus the creative interpretation of an outsider. In Inuit lore, Raven is a complex figure who is both creator and trickster, a shapeshifter who brought light to humans, played an important role in creating the landscape and social organization, and yet is often foolish and duped by other creatures.
One story tells of human destructiveness: people were killing all the animals so raven hid the sun in a bag. Eventually he was tricked, and the sun was restored. Another tells of raven’s impatience: raven was turned from black to white when loon threw soot in response to raven’s hasty tattooing. Others tell of raven’s failed attempts at joining geese on migratory flights—drowning in the sea along the way. At a local level however, raven has often been conceived as nearly omniscient—powerful in part because of its ability to fly and thus acquire knowledge inaccessible to humans.
This collage tells a new story where humans have attained and surpassed raven’s power of flight, the enhanced perception this allows, as well as the power to bring light into darkness. We begin with ravens soaring through an empty blue sky beside an image of a rainbow. The bow is inverted at bottom in the form of an oil pipeline where the energy of the sun is contained and funneled. It may be that the latent human potential for destructiveness can no longer be held in check by raven’s power over light.
Raven has been outshined by Ravn—otherwise known as Corvus Airlines—one of the major carriers in the state, which serves remote communities like those pictured. These villages are off the road system in “bush” Alaska. The airplane is thus the primary connection to link distant locations and to move goods and people. It also means that things tend to arrive, but never leave.
I worked in Anaktuvuk Pass on a small project focused on documenting local climate change observations, particularly at the intersection with subsistence—a direct dependence on the land for livelihood through hunting, fishing, and gathering. When I asked elders about changes, they would often begin by telling me about settling into the village, and later moving from sod into wooden houses, or transitioning from dog teams to snowmachines. I would have to prod a bit to convey my specific interest in changes on the landscape. Though a bit frustrating from the standpoint of an interviewer, it is clear these are connected. The contemporary forces at play—the airplane, imported food and goods, oil development, and others, have proceeded in tandem with climate change. It may not thus be so simple to parse out the changes that have occurred.
The village of Anaktuvuk Pass began in 1949 when the Nunamiut Iñupiat—the People of the Caribou—one of the last semi-nomadic peoples of North America, settled on a broad pass with ample willows and vast herds of migrating caribou. Anaktuvuk is an anglicized form of the Inupiaq place name, which means the place of caribou droppings. A key reason for settling was to gain access to the goods and services brought by airplane. The first great industrial incursion into Arctic Alaska was the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and support road connecting Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean to Valdez on Prince William Sound. Bulldozers roared into Anaktuvuk Pass in 1969, sent by Governor Wally Hickel. Ultimately the pipeline, completed in 1977, followed a different route, thus maintaining the community’s relative isolation.
Today, the large caribou migrations of the past have all but ceased coming through Anaktuvuk Pass. The reasons for this are complex, but almost certainly relate to a variety of industrial developments, including the Trans-Alaska Pipeline and supporting road, which enables easy access to the area by outsiders; noisy industrial development in Anaktuvuk Pass village; new hunting practices enabled by mechanized transportation like snowmobiles and ATVs; and climate change, which is driven by industrial development on a global scale, including the oil extraction taking place on the North Slope.
In appropriating raven’s power, we have traded away parts of raven’s creation.
Collage Guide
Pairs
A+ZZ B+Z C+D E+I F+G H+J K+L M N+O P+Q R+S T+U V+Y W+X
Brief Descriptions
A: Ravens near Nuiqsut.
ZZ: Ravens at Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
B: Rainbow over the Brooks Range in Gates of the Arctic National Park.
Z: Dalton Highway and the Trans-Alaska Pipeline with Gates of the Arctic National Park in background. Taken from a point just within the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.
C: Fish are an important supplement to the traditional local mainstay of caribou in Anaktuvuk Pass.
D: Coca-Cola is now a ubiquitous global commodity representing development and capitalism perhaps more than any other product.
E: Hunting for sheep and caribou near Anaktuvuk Pass.
I: People, trucks, and ATVs swarm around a recently arrived plane in Allakaket—not so unlike wolves and ravens on a recent kill. This is an important daily ritual in bush Alaska, assuming good weather.
F: A portion of undeveloped, but unprotected tundra on the North Slope.
G: A drill rig looms above the Alpine oil field near Nuiqsut.
H: The traditional Inuit blanket toss takes on new life beneath the BP logo at the World Eskimo Indian Olympics in Fairbanks.
J: A dumpster in Nuiqsut bears art celebrating the blanket toss.
K: Muktuk—whale skin and blubber—is a traditional delicacy with a rich flavor and texture that can be eaten raw.
L: A pile of burnt hotdogs and hamburgers leftover after Fourth of July celebrations in Anaktuvuk Pass.
M: A metal raven soars above its polyester alter ego in Nuiqsut.
N: Butchering caribou in Anaktuvuk Pass.
O: A headless stuffed bear found in the Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
P: Deliberately placed caribou skulls and antlers protrude from the tundra near Anaktuvuk Pass, challenging definitions of trash.
Q: Discarded snowmobiles lay in a pile in the Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
R: A dumpster in Anaktuvuk Pass is decorated with a small raven gliding over a pair of snowcapped mountains.
S: A Brooks Range peak looms over the skeletal iron remains of a building recently burnt down in Anaktuvuk Pass.
T: A traditional dance in Anaktuvuk Pass. The movements captured here resemble raven’s flight to my outsider eyes.
U: A construction-scale trencher seems to soar above the Brooks Range in Anaktuvuk Pass.
V: An elder in Anaktuvuk Pass glances at the North Slope Inupiaq place names map of which he has made his life’s project.
Y: A map of oil fields on the North Slope produced by BP. (Bill Streever, Diane Sanzone, Robert Burgess, and James Lukin (editors). 2007. Long-Term Ecological Monitoring in BP’s North Slope Oil Fields: 2006 Annual Report. BP Exploration (Alaska) Inc., Anchorage, Alaska.).
W: Caribou skull and discarded 7-Up can near Anaktuvuk Pass.
X: A discarded bulldozer slowly rusts into oblivion in Anaktuvuk Pass.
A+ZZ B+Z C+D E+I F+G H+J K+L M N+O P+Q R+S T+U V+Y W+X
Brief Descriptions
A: Ravens near Nuiqsut.
ZZ: Ravens at Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
B: Rainbow over the Brooks Range in Gates of the Arctic National Park.
Z: Dalton Highway and the Trans-Alaska Pipeline with Gates of the Arctic National Park in background. Taken from a point just within the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.
C: Fish are an important supplement to the traditional local mainstay of caribou in Anaktuvuk Pass.
D: Coca-Cola is now a ubiquitous global commodity representing development and capitalism perhaps more than any other product.
E: Hunting for sheep and caribou near Anaktuvuk Pass.
I: People, trucks, and ATVs swarm around a recently arrived plane in Allakaket—not so unlike wolves and ravens on a recent kill. This is an important daily ritual in bush Alaska, assuming good weather.
F: A portion of undeveloped, but unprotected tundra on the North Slope.
G: A drill rig looms above the Alpine oil field near Nuiqsut.
H: The traditional Inuit blanket toss takes on new life beneath the BP logo at the World Eskimo Indian Olympics in Fairbanks.
J: A dumpster in Nuiqsut bears art celebrating the blanket toss.
K: Muktuk—whale skin and blubber—is a traditional delicacy with a rich flavor and texture that can be eaten raw.
L: A pile of burnt hotdogs and hamburgers leftover after Fourth of July celebrations in Anaktuvuk Pass.
M: A metal raven soars above its polyester alter ego in Nuiqsut.
N: Butchering caribou in Anaktuvuk Pass.
O: A headless stuffed bear found in the Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
P: Deliberately placed caribou skulls and antlers protrude from the tundra near Anaktuvuk Pass, challenging definitions of trash.
Q: Discarded snowmobiles lay in a pile in the Anaktuvuk Pass dump.
R: A dumpster in Anaktuvuk Pass is decorated with a small raven gliding over a pair of snowcapped mountains.
S: A Brooks Range peak looms over the skeletal iron remains of a building recently burnt down in Anaktuvuk Pass.
T: A traditional dance in Anaktuvuk Pass. The movements captured here resemble raven’s flight to my outsider eyes.
U: A construction-scale trencher seems to soar above the Brooks Range in Anaktuvuk Pass.
V: An elder in Anaktuvuk Pass glances at the North Slope Inupiaq place names map of which he has made his life’s project.
Y: A map of oil fields on the North Slope produced by BP. (Bill Streever, Diane Sanzone, Robert Burgess, and James Lukin (editors). 2007. Long-Term Ecological Monitoring in BP’s North Slope Oil Fields: 2006 Annual Report. BP Exploration (Alaska) Inc., Anchorage, Alaska.).
W: Caribou skull and discarded 7-Up can near Anaktuvuk Pass.
X: A discarded bulldozer slowly rusts into oblivion in Anaktuvuk Pass.