The art of isolation

Cape Dorset, though, is considered the epicenter of Inuit art in Canada, in part because it has the longest history of printmaking (it was introduced by a Canadian artist in the late 1950s), and a highly evolved infrastructure for marketing the art around the world.

Why are there so many artists here?

``I have no answer," says Jimmy Manning, 55, who is semi retired as the co-operative's studio manager.

``One of the marvels of the Inuit is their innate ability for drawing," says Peter Wilson, 48, general manager of the Uqqurmiut Centre for Arts & Crafts in Pangnirtung. ``They can look at something and go to a piece of paper and capture the essence of this. I have no explanation for this."

Ask an artist here the same question and chances are you'll get a pragmatic answer. ``A lot of people here are carving because they have no other income," says Jamasee Pitseolak, 37, one of the community's younger carvers. His work reflects more contemporary themes -- motorcycles, airplanes, electric guitars, golf courses (he likes Tiger Woods ).

But from the depth and passion of their work, part of the answer has to be that there is so much to express. The Inuit are a story telling people with a strong oral history tradition. Unlike the Icelandic people, who recorded their history in sagas, the Inuits' mode of expression is primarily visual. They are a people who depended on what they saw on the land and in the sea to survive.

Jutai Toonoo, 46, tells of how his family, like the other Inuit, was forced by the government to relinquish their lives on the land and move to communities. Their sled dogs were ``slaughtered" by authorities, he says. ``They thought it would be the best thing for Inuit to be in one place," he says. ``I think we must have looked pathetic to them in our old, torn clothes."

Oviloo Tunnillie, 57, who is considered the most accomplished female carver of her generation, talks of growing up traditionally on the land, but as a little girl, she spent several years hospitalized down south with tuberculosis. She never saw her family. ``I thought it would never end," she says, speaking through a translator. ``What happens to me lives on in my head."

``There are a lot of joyous images in their work -- the dancing bears -- but there is also a lot of work that represents the hardships our ancestors have gone through," says Pudlat, the co-op's buyer. ``It's a hard life to try to survive up here in the north."

Contact Linda Matchan at l_matchan@globe.com.