Skwácháy̓s [Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim] is Squamish name for False Creek Flats describing “water coming up from ground beneath.”

Skwácháy̓s [Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim] also known as “False Creek Flats” and
before the inlet and tidal flats were filled with garbage in 1917-21, “False Creek East”

Skwácháy̓s [Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim] is the correct name for False Creek Flats describing “water coming up from ground beneath.” The thick line was roughly the high tide line prior to 1917 and the thinner line represents the low tide line with the areas below being marine and part of the inlet.

“water coming up from ground beneath.”
A resurgent edge of the marine inlet, False Creek south-east of Prior and Station Streets, at
the pre-1917 low tide line of the north-western corner of Skwácháy̓s 2021 March 11 * 1P3A9876
north-western Skwácháy̓s near the pre-1917 low tide line looking south from
Prior and National Street with a view of the train station constructed a century
ago 2021 March 11 * P3A9885

Reimagining Skwácháy̓s: Restoration strategizing & experimentation for the vestigial and resurgent wetlands of central Vancouver as contemporary culture

download guide and map for the 2022 October 19 SFU-BCIT Ecosystem Restoration MSc field trip

October 11, 2022

PDF copy:

Reimagining Skwácháy̓s:

Restoration strategizing & experimentation for the vestigial and resurgent wetlands of

central Vancouver as contemporary culture

For much of the last 10,000 years, what is today central Vancouver was a maze of saltwater inlets, mud flats, estuaries, and streams emptying into what today is called False Creek — and largely shared and jointly stewarded by txʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) communities. in 1932 the City of Vancouver recognized the area ‘Skwachice’ supposedly meaning ‘deep hole in water’ in Squamish. In 2019, Squamish activist and language guardian, Khelsilem stated that the mudflats that once existed around False Creek were called Skwácháy̓s, meaning “water coming up from ground beneath.”

This exceptionally productive set of ecosystems extended hundreds of hectares and is bounded by today’s Main, Union, Clark, Great North, and 2nd At the end of World War I, a new transcontinental train station was built on the northern of two points on either side of the narrow channel of sea, called KIWAHUSKS (roughly beneath today’s Main Street / Science World Skytrain station), that fed Skwácháy̓s. Elevated train tracks began to criss-cross Skwácháy̓s, the marine and tidal areas were soon filled with garbage and soil, the area became of limited interest for railway speculation, and within a decade the marine ecosystems were erased and the wetlands largely covered.

The loss of Skwácháy̓s, especially important for its food resources and cultural significance, represents one of the most egregious government assaults on the txʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) peoples and reparations are inevitable — as is the re-establishment of most of the ecosystems of Skwácháy̓s through sea level rise and freshwater flooding from extreme rain events. Because of the poor quality of the fill that was used to fill the sea and the many channels, many areas are sinking and have been effectively unbuildable. But because of accelerating land values and shortages for building sites in central Vancouver, vestigial marshes are seeing massive, boat-like architectures that will supposedly float above the resurgent wetlands. Even in this optimistic trajectory, Venetian-type canals would be inevitable. So far, there are few parks and areas of native habitat. Most problematic has been the new building without consultations with and reparations to the txʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) First Nations.

The still underwater project was begun in 2017 to observe the centennial of the erasure of Skwácháy̓s. Over the last five years, losses and new opportunities have been sketched and mapped. And underlying these studies has been an investigation of how postcolonial recombinations of traditional Salish knowledge and stewardship practices, the expanding and decolonizing field of ecosystem restoration, and contemporary culture spanning environmental design and site-based art extending to decolonial forms of land art, could provide a creative space to re-imagine a resurgent Skwácháy̓s. This video is an introduction to a past and future world that will transform the roles of knowledge keeping, ecological science, environmental design, and contemporary art just as the land again becomes wet, tidal, and even marine. After a review of the destruction of Skwácháy̓s, I will be exploring the relevance of baseline areas, with similar conditions to what was destroyed in Skwácháy̓s. Finally, I will be asking both ecological restorationists and site-based artists and designers to begin to think about locations for some channels to be dug, for where surface freshwater and sea can meet, and to select three native species, formerly common in Skwácháy̓s, with which to initiate an ecosystem restoration process that could well take a century. And underneath these questions are larger ones about the roles of science, design, and art in hastening ecosystem restoration processes that are taking place without direct or planned human intervention.

Skwácháy̓s is also a laboratory for intercultural and intergovernmental cooperation (and lack of cooperation) Skwácháy̓s formed as a space of Salish intercultural dialogue (involving three languages) and shared harvesting and stewardship. Today many of those ancient practices could be re-established with consultation and with the leadership of the txʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) First Nations. But how do ecological restoration scientists and land artists, from a range of backgrounds associated with many different migrations including Indigenous people from other parts of the region and country, how can we intervene in spaces and processes co-owned by Indigenous, municipal, regional, and national governments?

Today, sea levels are rising, drainage pipes around Skwácháy̓s are overflowing from extreme rainfall events, and people in central Vancouver are demanding more open space, green space, re-establishment of Indigenous food resources, and natural habitat. But without some careful and coordinated work over the next century involving txʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) leadership along with ecosystem restoration scientists, land artists, environmental technicians skilled in a wide array of practices especially propagation and protection, landscape architects, and community activists, the neighbourhood could remain an ecological desert.

For the ecological restoration science students who join me on field studies in October 2022 and after, I have two suggestions on how to organize your own investigations as part of these massive and indefinite restoration projects spanning neighbourhoods and cities — where key ecological infrastructure will take decades to rebuild. Given that much of the restoration interventions coming years for this area will be small-scaled, site-specific, community-based, and often only partially coordinated regionally, what are the locations of three channels that could be re-dug and re-established — especially in relationship to the areas most vulnerable to both seawater and freshwater flooding? And based on your functional goals for these passages, that re-establish the merging of freshwater and tidal ecosystems, what could be three species, terrestrial, estuarine or marine — plant or animal, to begin re-establish and defend?

One kind of place to look for possible candidate species for some initial restoration interventions are partial baselines. A natural baseline is some kind of protected ecosystem that is relatively natural and well-defended aside for global change especially related to climate. But natural baselines rarely capture and maintain cultural landscapes such as food gathering sites that were major parts of Skwácháy̓s. And there are so few intact and not degraded estuaries and wetlands around the Salish Sea. But even partially intact tidal flats, estuaries, and wetlands can tell us a great deal about what to begin to begin to re-establish.

The most important Salish fruit and flowering tree (crucial for a number of pollinators and frugivores) in Skwácháy̓s was Pacific crabapple, Malus fusca. Ripe fruit can be propagated from seed, typically by planting in October, but growing out is a difficult art. This species probably reproduces more vegetatively from twigs.

Underlying all of this recent work around Skwácháy̓s, in the still underwater project, are the questions of where does the art-making in land art and other site-based environmental art end, and the science and traditional knowledge begin? The second, coupled question is that of when in the process of research, strategizing and planning for an ecological restoration project also become art and very creative contemporary culture. Surveying, invasive species eradication, choice of species to re-establish, propagation, management, and protection all involve human values, cultural practices and aesthetics that are rapidly being decolonized as increasing parts of Skwácháy̓s are flooded, and after a century of active erasure, still underwater.

ripe fruit of ḴÁ,EW̱ IL̵Ć [SENĆOŦEN], Qwa’up-ulp [HUL’Q’UMI’NUM’], Pacific crabapple, Malus fusca,
above W̱EN,NÁ,NEĆ, ĆUÁN [SENĆOŦEN] (Salt Spring Island, Canada) 2022 September 28 P9280004

Delving into the deep south-east of Skwácháy̓s

Originally a confluence of gullies and streams with miles of estuary channels, the twentieth century saw garbage, fill, culverts, sewers and increasing amounts of asphalt. Future decisions best centre on re-establishment of native wetlands and woodland along with more urban food production, recreation, and socializing.

On the south-eastern shores of Skwácháy̓s: The Means of Production Garden

Rising from the former tidal flats, the Means of Production Garden (MOP) is on the bluff to the west of China Creek basin (in this image, seen from the beach house at 1016 East 7th Avenue) and part of China Creek Park. The slope directly above the playing field, and to the south-east and below MOP is a new field planted for pollinators. * 2021 June 18 * 1P3A0175

In contrast to the Columbus Monument that looks rapaciously west, the view from the heights of Means of Production Garden look north and east. Another poetic viewpoint, “MOP” is a more hopeful centre of The Terminal City. Initiated over a quarter of a century, originally design and guided by environmental artist, Oliver Kellhammer, the garden was originally for growing organic materials for making art.

Revisiting a forested spot in the lower central area of Means of Production Garden with this image of seminal artist and convenor for this art space, Oliver Kellhammer * 2018 May 26 * P5260098

Given the destruction of much of the biodiversity of Skwácháy̓s, over the twentieth century, MOP is an ecological and cultural oasis and laboratory for central Vancouver.

This Naturalized Area within China Creek Park is adjacent to and south-east and below the Means of Production Garden. 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0127

This furbished playing field, seen from the Means of Production Garden, was tidal flats a century ago and was adjacent to the beach house at 1016 East 7th Avenue. * 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0128
There are several cherry trees planted in the Means of Production Garden * 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0134
Hops with a woven willow arch at Means of Production Garden * 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0136
A small work left on the shed of the Means of Production Garden * 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0133
Poppy with a bee buzz pollinating at Means of Production Garden * 2021 June 17 * 1P3A0154

‘hole in bottom’ sculptural remnants, soon to be obliterated, at Prior and Station Streets below the shores of north-western Skwácháy̓s

Looking south from Prior Street just east of Station Street, we can see the depths of once
was the north-west of historic Skwácháy̓s. Until recently the site of an early twentieth-
century warehouse, this expanse is part of the construction site for the north-western portion of the new St. Paul’s Hospital that broke ground this week. The sites on the
other side of the fence were part of the historic tidal flats with much of the area
portrayed across the horizon, largely marine inlet. Where this image was taken was
roughly along the east shore of the point that connected north to Chinatown and
that extended south to Thornton Park and the location of the 1916-17 national train
station that still operates today. South of this point was a passage of water called
KIWAHUSKS (‘two points opposite’). Much of this area is below sea level or will be
in the coming decades as marine intrusion intensifies. 2021 March 11 * P3A9885
Looking east from Station Street just south of Prior Street, we can see the low-tide line of what was once was the north-west shore of historic Skwácháy̓s. Until recently the site of an early twentieth-century warehouse, This expanse is part of the construction site for the north-western portion of the new St. Paul’s Hospital that broke ground this week. Where
this image was taken was roughly along the east shore of the point that connected north
to Chinatown and that extended south to Thornton Park and the location of the 1916-17 national train station that still operates today. South of this point was a passage of water called KIWAHUSKS (‘two points opposite’). Much of this area is below sea level or will be
in the coming decades as marine intrusion intensifies. 2021 March 11 * E 1P3A9873
Looking east from Station Street just south of Prior Street, we can see signs of ongoing
saltwater intrusion near the low-tide line of what was once was the north-west shore
of historic Skwácháy̓s. Until recently the site of an early twentieth-century warehouse,
this expanse is part of the construction site for the north-western portion of the new
St. Paul’s Hospital that broke ground this week. Where this image was taken was
roughly along the east shore of the point that connected north to Chinatown and that extended south to Thornton Park and the location of the 1916-17 national train
station that still operates today. South of this point was a passage of water called
KIWAHUSKS (‘two points opposite’). Much of this area is below sea level or will be
in the coming decades as marine intrusion intensifies. 2021 March 11 * 1P3A9876
Looking south from Prior Street just east of Station Street, we can see the depths of
once was the north-west of historic Skwácháy̓s. Until recently the site of an
early twentieth-century warehouse, this expanse is part of the construction site
for the north-western portion of the new St. Paul’s Hospital that broke ground this
week. The sites on the other side of the fence were part of the historic tidal
flats with much of the area portrayed across the horizon, largely marine
inlet. Where this image was taken was roughly along the east shore of the
point that connected north to Chinatown and that extended south to
Thornton Park and the location of the 1916-17 national train station that
still operates today. South of this point was a passage of water called
KIWAHUSKS (‘two points opposite’). Much of this area is below sea level or will be
in the coming decades as marine intrusion intensifies. 2021 March 11 * 1P3A9890
Looking east from Station Street just south of Prior Street, we can see a marker that
is roughly on the site of the low-tide mark below the north-western shore of historic Skwácháy̓s. Until recently the site of an early twentieth-century warehouse, this
expanse is part of the construction site for the north-western portion of the new St.
Paul’s Hospital that broke ground this week. The sites on the other side of the fence
were part of the historic tidal flats with much of the area portrayed across the horizon,
largely marine inlet. Where this image was taken was roughly along the east shore of
the point that connected north to Chinatown and that extended south to Thornton
Park and the location of the 1916-17 national train station that still operates today.
South of this point was a passage of water called KIWAHUSKS (‘two points opposite’).
Much of this area is below sea level or will be in the coming decades as marine
intrusion intensifies. 2021 March 11 * 1P3A9900

still underwater: 2019-22 decolonial land and other public art projects marking the centennial of the disappearance of False Creek East (Skwácháy̓s [Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim] with the hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓ names currently being researched) in today’s central Vancouver

April 8 – May 24, 2019
still underwater 1: traces, pronunciations, recollections

September 16 – November 2, 2019
still underwater 2: flooding resurgence recovery

organized by

still underwater:
Tracing Skwahchays, Hole in Bottom, in today’s False Creek Flats

The former inlet and salt marshes bounded today by Vancouver’s Union, Clark, Great Northern Way, and Main Street were once known as False Creek East, and more previously by Salish communities as what might roughly be translated as hole-in-bottom, or, Skwahchays. In the centennial years of the filling and destruction of hole-in-bottom, PLOT invites the land art collective ḴEXMIN field station* to initiate new research, field trips, monitoring, test sites, public conversations, screenings, ceremonies, performances, interventions, and proposals. In various periods over the next three years, still underwater will explore new forms of decolonial land art based on emergent protocols in acknowledging a wider range of territorial, linguistic, cultural, and historical concerns, as well as emerging relationships, alliances, and communalities.

At the core of still underwater are a series of questions about new opportunities for environmental, site-based, and public art on the Pacific North-West coast: How can artists, curators and audiences—with a wide range of heritages—engage fully around unceded land and sites, with respect and support towards the rapidly evolving cultural, political, and legal protocols of the xwməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish) and səl̓ílwətaʔɬ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh) nations? For indigenous artists, what does it mean to have a heritage and political entitlement around unceded sites such as ‘hole-in-bottom’? On the seismically-vulnerable terrain of ‘hole-in bottom’, how can site-based artistic interventions and permanent public art works hold transformative roles within its ‘redeveloping’ neighbourhoods, where new construction seems inevitable despite its geological instability?

This event is held on the unceded territory of the sḵwx̱wú7mesh, sel̓íl̓witulh, & xʷməθkʷəy̓əm nations.

ḴEXMIN field station* is a loose collective of indigenous and non-indigenous site-based artists, environmental researchers, scientists, and designers focused on the waters, shores and islands of the Salish Sea. Currently located on Salt Spring Island, the field station exists as a research, learning and experimentation space to nurture conversations spanning traditional indigenous knowledge, modern science, and contemporary culture. Individuals currently contributing to ‘still underwater’ include Musqueam weaver and public artist Debra Sparrow, Salish curator Rose Spahan, Métis public artist and environmental scientist Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram (currently coordinating the 2019 events at PLOT), public artist and designer Alex Grünenfelder, ecological designer and public artist Oliver Kellhammer, and Sharon Kallis a community engaged environmental artist.

*The ‘Ḵ’ in KEXMIN is underlined where possible [but not possible in the current version of WordPress] and represents a distinctive sound and letter in the SENĆOŦEN language – one of the more than a score of Salish languages.

Event listings and documentation will be posted below

territorial acknowledgements: Skwácháy̓s [Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim] with the hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓ names currently being researched

Much of contemporary culture in Vancouver, and other parts of Canada, is about territorial acknowledgement: out of consideration as sensitive members of multicultural communities, as part of commitments to decolonization and conciliation, in respect for new inter-governmental protocols, and as creative practices that foster dialogue and collaboration.

This project, on SKWA-CHICE “deep hole in water” | “hole in bottom” | False Creek East, is grounded in the territorial acknowledgement of our current host and partner in Vancouver, Access Gallery:

“With gratitude as guests, Access is located on the unceded territories of the xʷməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), and Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations.”

This kind of territorial acknowledgement from a cultural organization nurtures a diversifying set of inter-cultural and political conversations.

While many people were hurt by the destruction of “deep hole in water,” a large portion of  respective governments, organizations and individuals, who cared about these losses at the time, were indigenous. But since the latter decades of the twentieth century, the benefits  to settlers and non-indigenous Canadians from indigenous erasure and the neocolonialism, that ignored indigenous governments and demographics, have largely expired. For most Canadians, the lack of real conciliation and basic contact with First Nations governments and civil organizations is a real drag: economically, socially, and culturally. Indigenous erasure in public space and landscapes increasingly undermines long-term social solidarity and the integrity of community-based cultural production.

While ‘white privilege’ continues to be a significant source of inequity, all Canadians benefit from ongoing political and cultural conversations about indigeneity. And relationships to indigeneity are simple: having at least one indigenous parent who lives that identity in some way or not. There are no choices with indigeneity, the choices are with the depth of acknowledgment and engagement with respective intercultural inequities and taking the opportunities for expanded dialogue.

Today, a broader spectrum of Vancouver’s communities see the damage that was done, with the destruction of “deep hole in water,” and are learning and experimenting with evolving protocols and intercultural practices to acknowledge multiple owners, stewards, cultural economies, and modes of creative production. In order to parse the 19th and 20th Century conflation of the diverse indigenous territorial and governmental relationships, languages, and cultures that lead to the erasure of “deep hole in water,” a few activist principles can guide our excavations, interventions, reconstructions, and restorations:

1. acknowledge and learn from “deep hole in water” as part of the communities of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish), and Tsleil-Waututh First Nations  and treat these relationships as ongoing, in present and future tenses;

2. acknowledge and learn from the three indigenous languages spoken in “deep hole in water”: Musqueam Halkomelem / hunq’umin’um’ / hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓; Squamish / Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim, sníchim; and Chinook;

3. as a core tenet of conciliation, treat First Nations as sovereign governments with shifting and ongoing responsibilities for stewardship of territory (including “deep hole in water”);

4. support treaty and other forms of inter-government negotiation lead by First Nations;

5. support organizations that give voice to indigenous elders and youth;

6. explore a range of experiences of personal and familial loss extending to the historical and contemporary losses of most indigenous families living around “deep hole in water”;

7. make art and design that functions to spark intercultural conversations and be prepared to face critical responses, admit mistakes, and build ongoing personal, inter-family, and institutional relationships for indefinite collaborations;

8. work with First Nations language offices: spelling is important as the written forms of Musqueam Halkomelem / hunq’umin’um’ / hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓; Squamish / Sḵwx̱wú7mesh sníchim, sníchim; and Chinook continue to evolve;

9. engage proactively around possible appropriation: there are plenty of good ways to reference and pay homage to indigenous artists without ripping them off; and

10. a good way to bridge the gaps from divergent relationships to historical and contemporary trauma is to make, perform, and experience site-based, multimedia art centred on territorial acknowledgements.

Nobody knows what shared sovereignty means when involving the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh Úxwumixw (Squamish), and Tsleil-Waututh First Nations along with the government of the City of Vancouver, Province of British Columbia, and Government of Canada and the real estate interests claiming to continue to ‘own’ deep hole in water.” The possibilities for moving forward will depend on the new forms imagined through contemporary and traditional culture, possibilities that emerge from collaborations such as “still underwater.”

Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram 2019 May 11

2019 a recent satellite composite of False Creek Flats that hints at the historic shores of Skwácháy̓s

This image was taken off of Google Earth in mid-2019. Processed with some intensified saturation, this low-lying area, increasingly below sea level, remains a largely ‘undeveloped’ neighbourhood increasingly fobbed off to artists, artisanal manufacturers, and a range of demographics desperate for housing.

scenes from a disappearance: A decolonial ecological breakdown cabaret

1913 July 7 the extreme eastern part, east of Main Street, of a panoramic photograph of all of False Creek (Vancouver Archive AM54-S4-3- PAN N161A)

EVENT | PLOT @ Access Gallery | Scenes from a disappearance… | 730-10PM | MAY 24

May 24, 2019 7:30 pm. to 10 p.m.

PLOT @ Access Gallery
222 East Georgia St.
Vancouver BC V6A 1Z7 Canada

Scenes from a disappearance:
A (decolonial) ecological breakdown cabaret for the centennial of the destruction of Skwácháy̓s, “water coming up from ground beneath”

entrance is free

A century ago, the sea, salt marshes, and Salish gathering sites that thrived in what is now bounded by Main, Union, Clark, and Great Northern Way in central Vancouver were filled with a train station, garbage, and dirt from the digging of the Grandview Cut. But Skwácháy̓s, translated from Skwxw7mesh xwumixw (Squamish) as “water coming up from ground beneath,” has not gone quietly, and those seas and marshes are re-surging. Join artists active in the “still underwater” project for an ‘open mic’ night (without the mic) for a number of short multimedia, spoken, and spontaneous performances on the aftermath of ecological breakdown in the DTES. After introductions from hosts Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram and Alex Grünenfelder, artists and other cultural producers have eight minutesto present.

Skwácháy̓s not gone quietly, and those seas and marshes are resurging. Join artists active in the “still underwater” project for an ‘open mic’ night (without the mic) for a number of short multimedia, spoken, and spontaneous performances on the aftermath of ecological breakdown in the DTES. After introductions from hosts Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram and Alex Grünenfelder, artists and other cultural producers have eight minutes to present.

RSVP kexminfieldstation@gmail.com to reserve a spot in the line-up and specify any media or spatial needs.

**

ḴEXMIN Field Station are the current occupants in Access Gallerys PLOT space, from 8 April to 24 May, 2019; conducting their project still underwater: tracing Skwácháy̓s in todays False Creek Flats.

ḴEXMIN Field Station is a loose collective of Indigenous and non-Indigenous site-based artists, environmental researchers, scientists, and designers focused on the waters, shores and islands of the Salish Sea. Currently located on Salt Spring Island, the field station exists as a research, learning and experimentation space to nurture conversations spanning traditional Indigenous knowledge, modern science, and contemporary culture. Individuals currently contributing to still underwater include: Métis public artist and environmental scientist, Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram (currently coordinating the 2019 events at PLOT), Salish curator Rose Spahan, public artist and designer Alex Grnenfelder, site-based artist Oliver Kellhammer, Musqueam weaver and public artist Debra Sparrow, and community-engaged environmental artist Sharon Kallis, amongst an evolving group of affiliates.

For event details + announcements visit:

http://www.gordonbrentingram.ca/stillunderwater/

On the shores of Hole-In-Bottom: The open source landscapes of Oliver Kellhammer around False Creek Flats

————————————————————————
EVENT | PLOT @ Access Gallery | KEXMIN field station |

On the shores of ‘Hole-In-Bottom’: The open source landscapes of Oliver Kellhammer around False Creek Flats | MAY 18, 2019
————————————————————————

KEXMIN Field Station presents: [‘KEXMIN’ is a word in the SENĆOŦEN language and the ‘K’ is meant to be underlined]

Saturday, May 18, 2019 from

Drop in from 1 – 5 PM

meet at PLOT at Access Gallery, 222 East Georgia Street, Vancouver Canada

Schedule:

1 – 1:30 PM – Access Gallery: Skype discussion with Oliver Kellhammer

2 – 3 PM – Cottonwood Garden with Rose-Marie Larson

3 – 4 PM – Means of Production Garden with Sharon Kallis

4 – 5 PM – Healing the Cut with Mike Simpson

*Please note that there will be travel between each location. For more details on 
accessibility, please contact kexminfieldstation@gmail.com.

*This is the second public event of the 2019 – 2021 ‘still underwater’ project.

PRESENTER BIOS:

Environmental and biological artist Oliver Kellhammer has three decades of achievements working with public space and outdoor sites based on his philosophy of democratic interventions through ‘open source landscapes’. His three, site-based works on trashed sites around the historic shores of False Creek Flats (sometimes referred to as ‘hole-in-bottom’) have been prescient especially within the movement of art as forms of ecological remediation and decolonization.

Len Kydd is a retired construction worker and long time Cottonwood gardener. He started the Native garden in Cottonwood. “Truth is, he knows everything there is to know about Cottonwood and he knows Oliver.”

Using the lengthy title of being a community engaged environmental artist, what Sharon Kallis really does is commit to being a life-longer learner. Learning while teaching and teaching while learning”Sharon partners with ecologists, gardeners, weavers and others with an interest in linking traditional hand technologies to what we can grow, gather and glean in our urban green spaces. Sharon has been one of the primary stewards of Means of Production since 2007 and the roots of her creative practice are deeply entwined with this public park and garden. Sharon is the founding executive director of EartHand Gleaners Society.

Mike Simpson is an urban geographer, and postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Geography at UBC, as well as a former student of Oliver’s. His research considers how solidarity is practiced between settler environmentalists and Indigenous land and water defenders on the frontlines of these struggles, and broadly asks how transformative movements seeking to bring about social and environment change can be built across difference.

***

K_EXMIN Field Station are the current occupants in Access Gallerys PLOT space, from 8 April to 24 May, 2019; conducting their project still underwater: tracing Skwahchays, hole-in-bottom, in todays False Creek Flats.

K_EXMIN Field Station is a loose collective of Indigenous and non-Indigenous site-based artists, environmental researchers, scientists, and designers focused on the waters, shores and islands of the Salish Sea. Currently located on Salt Spring Island, the field station exists as a research, learning and experimentation space to nurture conversations spanning traditional Indigenous knowledge, modern science, and contemporary culture. Individuals currently contributing to still underwater include: Mtis 
public artist and environmental scientist, Gordon Brent Brochu-Ingram (currently coordinating the 2019 events at PLOT), Salish curator Rose Spahan, public artist and designer Alex Grnenfelder, site-based artist Oliver Kellhammer, Musqueam weaver and public artist Debra Sparrow, and community-engaged environmental artist Sharon Kallis, amongst an evolving group of affiliates.

For more information visit: www.gordonbrentingram.ca/stillunderwater/or

www.accessgallery.ca/plot-2/plot-kexmin-field-station/

Contact:kexminfieldstation@gmail.com * 778-354-2505