ART MASKS (2020- )
COVID-19 shut down Canada in early 2020. Creating beaded masks began as a way to process feelings about this global pandemic. What Lisa Shepherd didn't know at the time was that art masks would become a global phenomenon, all starting with the Breathe. Facebook group she co-created with multi-disciplinary artist Nathalie Bertin.
Below Lisa shares with you her beaded mask creations which have held the most meaning, along with her artist statement for each.
Below Lisa shares with you her beaded mask creations which have held the most meaning, along with her artist statement for each.
Wahkohtowin
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
I worked through so many thoughts as I stitched this mask. It was like untangling thread. Frustrating at times, but necessary in order to move forward with creating. Like many other artists I've read about, I took a good two weeks of being entirely unproductive at the start of this pandemic hitting our part of the world. Then, one day, I realized how much I was grieving normalcy. Had it really been only two weeks prior that I was sitting with students at a high school, all talking about spring break plans? How fast that changed! With naming the grief, my inspiration and desire to create came back again.
I also thought about our interconnectedness. To each other. To nature. Our family has been escaping to the forest when we can and making offerings to the water. It's a time of feeling very small but, with that, also a release of so much that we seem to carry every day. There is a strange comfort that also comes with loss of all sense of control. Okay, so here we are. Isolating, and at the same time realizing the deep need that we have for each other. For connection to each other and to all living beings.
Has anyone else noticed the sheer joy that a car ride brings? After a month of isolating, I have a better understanding of the perspective of my dogs. In a car ride, as we pass through our city that seems to have slowed down to pace of the small prairie town from my childhood, the colours seem brighter, the sounds more crisp, the air is clean and - oh, that sky! How could we have taken such everyday miracles for granted for so long? There is so much for us to feel grateful for. And yet - never has a beadwork project felt so full of paradox, in a time of fear, uncertainty, and loss.
We are heading into a long weekend. Our family will be staying home. We are going to take time to say our gratitudes. To Creator, to Mother Earth and to each other. COVID-19 has happened so fast and many that have come down sick have gone to hospital alone and passed on to the next world. What was left unsaid?
And so, I will try and keep open to all the vivid beauty of the world and try not to take even a single moment for granted. I will tell the people that are dear to me that I love them. I've been saying that a lot lately to every friend that I speak with on the phone or video chat, because I do. On this long weekend, I pray that others will embrace this opportunity to do the same.
Stay home. Be well.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, ribbon, hand-tied tassels, tin jingle, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
I worked through so many thoughts as I stitched this mask. It was like untangling thread. Frustrating at times, but necessary in order to move forward with creating. Like many other artists I've read about, I took a good two weeks of being entirely unproductive at the start of this pandemic hitting our part of the world. Then, one day, I realized how much I was grieving normalcy. Had it really been only two weeks prior that I was sitting with students at a high school, all talking about spring break plans? How fast that changed! With naming the grief, my inspiration and desire to create came back again.
I also thought about our interconnectedness. To each other. To nature. Our family has been escaping to the forest when we can and making offerings to the water. It's a time of feeling very small but, with that, also a release of so much that we seem to carry every day. There is a strange comfort that also comes with loss of all sense of control. Okay, so here we are. Isolating, and at the same time realizing the deep need that we have for each other. For connection to each other and to all living beings.
Has anyone else noticed the sheer joy that a car ride brings? After a month of isolating, I have a better understanding of the perspective of my dogs. In a car ride, as we pass through our city that seems to have slowed down to pace of the small prairie town from my childhood, the colours seem brighter, the sounds more crisp, the air is clean and - oh, that sky! How could we have taken such everyday miracles for granted for so long? There is so much for us to feel grateful for. And yet - never has a beadwork project felt so full of paradox, in a time of fear, uncertainty, and loss.
We are heading into a long weekend. Our family will be staying home. We are going to take time to say our gratitudes. To Creator, to Mother Earth and to each other. COVID-19 has happened so fast and many that have come down sick have gone to hospital alone and passed on to the next world. What was left unsaid?
And so, I will try and keep open to all the vivid beauty of the world and try not to take even a single moment for granted. I will tell the people that are dear to me that I love them. I've been saying that a lot lately to every friend that I speak with on the phone or video chat, because I do. On this long weekend, I pray that others will embrace this opportunity to do the same.
Stay home. Be well.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, ribbon, hand-tied tassels, tin jingle, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
Be Well 2020
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
When I visited the lands of my great grandmothers a few years ago, I learned about the beaded whimsies that the Haudenosaunee women created to sell to the tourists around Niagra Falls. My favourite pieces were the three dimensional canoes with "Fast Boat" beaded on their sides. I imagined they might have been designed with the idea of the tourists purchasing them to take home to their children. The whimsies often had the date and place beaded on them. As I turned over a whimsie in my hand, reading the place and date, I thought about the message through time that our Ancestors had left us. How they had marked their place in time.
As I created this mask, I thought about this place and time that we are in today. What story will our masks tell 100 years from now? A story not of self-preservation, but preservation of each other. That is my hope. When we wear a mask, it doesn't protect us from getting sick but reduces the risk of breathing out sickness onto others.
Everything changes this year. The air is more clear and the animals get a rest from so many people milling about, but at what cost? There is too much loss of life and suffering alone.
How will this time and place be remembered?
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
When I visited the lands of my great grandmothers a few years ago, I learned about the beaded whimsies that the Haudenosaunee women created to sell to the tourists around Niagra Falls. My favourite pieces were the three dimensional canoes with "Fast Boat" beaded on their sides. I imagined they might have been designed with the idea of the tourists purchasing them to take home to their children. The whimsies often had the date and place beaded on them. As I turned over a whimsie in my hand, reading the place and date, I thought about the message through time that our Ancestors had left us. How they had marked their place in time.
As I created this mask, I thought about this place and time that we are in today. What story will our masks tell 100 years from now? A story not of self-preservation, but preservation of each other. That is my hope. When we wear a mask, it doesn't protect us from getting sick but reduces the risk of breathing out sickness onto others.
Everything changes this year. The air is more clear and the animals get a rest from so many people milling about, but at what cost? There is too much loss of life and suffering alone.
How will this time and place be remembered?
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
How Much?
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
COVID-19 pandemic first shows itself locally with the emptying of stores. Only social media is well stocked, of images of empty shelves. Supply and demand brings opportunity for the ethically-devoid few who buy up pallets of hand sanitizer, N95 masks and other essential medical supplies to sell on Amazon at 400% margin. Healthcare and emergency workers are forced to reuse personal protective equipment and risk their lives to save our loved ones.
After two weeks of nothing – no sewing, no creating – I crack open my chest and begin to weed through the juxtaposition of all that is happening. Heart fully exposed.
Through all, the birds can be heard more clearly than before. The air is crisp and clean. No traffic sounds. There are sightings of animals where people no longer monopolize space. Bit by bit, the inspiration to create returns.
I wonder, when we get through this, will we be better than before? Will we have learned what is truly important? Is this hope?
I post my art mask. Private messages. Lacking introduction. Two words.
How much?
(Mixed media: Smoke tanned buckskin, glass beads, tin jingles, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
COVID-19 pandemic first shows itself locally with the emptying of stores. Only social media is well stocked, of images of empty shelves. Supply and demand brings opportunity for the ethically-devoid few who buy up pallets of hand sanitizer, N95 masks and other essential medical supplies to sell on Amazon at 400% margin. Healthcare and emergency workers are forced to reuse personal protective equipment and risk their lives to save our loved ones.
After two weeks of nothing – no sewing, no creating – I crack open my chest and begin to weed through the juxtaposition of all that is happening. Heart fully exposed.
Through all, the birds can be heard more clearly than before. The air is crisp and clean. No traffic sounds. There are sightings of animals where people no longer monopolize space. Bit by bit, the inspiration to create returns.
I wonder, when we get through this, will we be better than before? Will we have learned what is truly important? Is this hope?
I post my art mask. Private messages. Lacking introduction. Two words.
How much?
(Mixed media: Smoke tanned buckskin, glass beads, tin jingles, cotton “kohkôm” print lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 1st Wave exhibition.
Photo credit: In View Images
Legami Familiari, un Mondo a Parte
(Family Ties, a World Apart)
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
Every struggle comes with gifts. This one has come with the gift of becoming closer to my family, overseas.
During the second wave of this pandemic, I deeply appreciate my far-away family. My Dad is Métis, from this land. My Mom is Italian and immigrated here as a child. We have family in Italy still today. There are inherent, heart and soul genetic connections with them that layer to make me who I am.
Right now, my cousin Luciano and his wife Marina tell me that they are in a Yellow zone, which means they can move around during this phase of the pandemic. Some parts of Italy are in Orange and they can’t move between regions, while others are in Red and aren’t able to freely move about because COVID19 numbers are too high in their area. This gives me some comfort that my cousins are in an area less impacted by the virus.
We visit more than usual during this pandemic, using Facebook and Skype to connect. Luciano and Marina both have wonderful senses of humour. I enjoy learning Italian phrases, with meanings rooted in comedy and resiliency. It reminds me of the way that stories and humour ground my Métis family. It is familiar.
Visiting with Luciano and Marina over video chat brings me inside their home for some slice-of-life banter. We all agree that we are tired of the pandemic, tired of feeling housebound and isolated, but it’s good to be able to see each other, at least virtually.
Legami Familiari, un Mondo a Parte shows Métis style beadwork, utilizing colours that I remember from my Grandma Palmira’s Italian décor home, on a mask reminiscent of the Venetian masks. Venice is where the original seed beads travelled from, by way of trade route, during the birth of Métis flower beadwork.
Whereas the Venetian masks of the 13th century covered the upper part of the face to conceal identity, this pandemic mask covers the lower face and is my expression of identity.
(Mixed media: Ultra-suede, glass beads, 24K gold beads, tin cone, ostrich plume, rooster saddles, buck tail, "kohkôm" print cotton lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 2nd Wave exhibition
Photo credit: In View Images
Gratitude to Richelle Veters for modelling.
(Family Ties, a World Apart)
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
Every struggle comes with gifts. This one has come with the gift of becoming closer to my family, overseas.
During the second wave of this pandemic, I deeply appreciate my far-away family. My Dad is Métis, from this land. My Mom is Italian and immigrated here as a child. We have family in Italy still today. There are inherent, heart and soul genetic connections with them that layer to make me who I am.
Right now, my cousin Luciano and his wife Marina tell me that they are in a Yellow zone, which means they can move around during this phase of the pandemic. Some parts of Italy are in Orange and they can’t move between regions, while others are in Red and aren’t able to freely move about because COVID19 numbers are too high in their area. This gives me some comfort that my cousins are in an area less impacted by the virus.
We visit more than usual during this pandemic, using Facebook and Skype to connect. Luciano and Marina both have wonderful senses of humour. I enjoy learning Italian phrases, with meanings rooted in comedy and resiliency. It reminds me of the way that stories and humour ground my Métis family. It is familiar.
Visiting with Luciano and Marina over video chat brings me inside their home for some slice-of-life banter. We all agree that we are tired of the pandemic, tired of feeling housebound and isolated, but it’s good to be able to see each other, at least virtually.
Legami Familiari, un Mondo a Parte shows Métis style beadwork, utilizing colours that I remember from my Grandma Palmira’s Italian décor home, on a mask reminiscent of the Venetian masks. Venice is where the original seed beads travelled from, by way of trade route, during the birth of Métis flower beadwork.
Whereas the Venetian masks of the 13th century covered the upper part of the face to conceal identity, this pandemic mask covers the lower face and is my expression of identity.
(Mixed media: Ultra-suede, glass beads, 24K gold beads, tin cone, ostrich plume, rooster saddles, buck tail, "kohkôm" print cotton lining)
Of note: Selected to be part of the 'Breathe.' 2nd Wave exhibition
Photo credit: In View Images
Gratitude to Richelle Veters for modelling.
Homeland
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
One of the heart longings of living through a pandemic is missing my homeland and the people I love that are there. Home for me is in two places; the land where I am from and the place where I have settled with my life partner and our son. These two places are divided by the Rocky Mountains and over a thousand kilometers. On the land where I am from, there sits a little house, welcoming with the smell of the food I grew up on. Standing in the doorway are two people who have been most important in my life. I miss Mom and Dad and, of course, at this time I also worry about them. A trip to visit requires more planning now, to take into account provincial health and travel recommendations and restrictions. Summer travel is safer than winter, yet the short days and long winter nights is when my heart grows restless for longing to be home. I am grateful to have these two in our homeland still, and pray for continued wellness until we can see each other again.
Homeland shows the provincial wild rose of Alberta and the pacific dogwood of British Columbia. A tiny spider and graceful dragonfly nurture and tend to the plants. Soopalalie (buffalo berry) and Saskatoon berries provide sustenance.
(Mixed media: Felted wool, glass beads, ribbon, tin cone, hand-tied yarn tassle, cotton lining)
Photo credit: Heather Brown
Gratitude to Ashley Sharpe for modelling
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
One of the heart longings of living through a pandemic is missing my homeland and the people I love that are there. Home for me is in two places; the land where I am from and the place where I have settled with my life partner and our son. These two places are divided by the Rocky Mountains and over a thousand kilometers. On the land where I am from, there sits a little house, welcoming with the smell of the food I grew up on. Standing in the doorway are two people who have been most important in my life. I miss Mom and Dad and, of course, at this time I also worry about them. A trip to visit requires more planning now, to take into account provincial health and travel recommendations and restrictions. Summer travel is safer than winter, yet the short days and long winter nights is when my heart grows restless for longing to be home. I am grateful to have these two in our homeland still, and pray for continued wellness until we can see each other again.
Homeland shows the provincial wild rose of Alberta and the pacific dogwood of British Columbia. A tiny spider and graceful dragonfly nurture and tend to the plants. Soopalalie (buffalo berry) and Saskatoon berries provide sustenance.
(Mixed media: Felted wool, glass beads, ribbon, tin cone, hand-tied yarn tassle, cotton lining)
Photo credit: Heather Brown
Gratitude to Ashley Sharpe for modelling
Honour Mask
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
At the time when I created this mask, local businesses were beginning to open up again. British Columbia has successfully flattened the curve. However, the situation feels precarious. At the beginning of social distancing, a softness came over people as we began to truly recognize our interconnectedness. At this time, however, it seems people are feeling emboldened, impatient and angry. This is the first pandemic in which social media exists. It has allowed us to virtually be together. It makes knowledge quickly available. However, it also allows for people to publicly display their anger. Strangers instantly react to strangers in a war of words. This feels out of balance to me. I hope this mask restores some balance, in even some small way.
I created this mask to honor the people who have passed on to spirit. I want them to know they are remembered. For their families who are grieving. I want them to know that they are seen, that their grief is known. I feel that when we wear a mask, we do it to make space safer for those around us. When we put on our masks, we are honouring all these lives.
Horse hair tassels hang below the medallion. Métis are horse people. Our horses were part of our Ancestors' day to day lives. "Buffalo Runners" were well trained and valued for the role they played in the great buffalo hunts that provided for communities. I was taught that the Métis were responsible for the Canadian, a breed of well-muscled horse that could be used for both riding and driving. So important was the horse to our old ways that a horse's gallop is even echoed when we dance our traditional dances. Many Métis today still work with horses.
Beaver fur trims the edge of the raised beadwork medallion. Historically, beaver fur was an important trade good. It brought our great grandfathers to this land.
The blue zigzag porcupine quills were added to represent water. The water and the berries together provide sustenance for the journey home.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, porcupine quills, horse hair, tin cones, cotton "kohkom" print lining)
Of note: Commissioned by the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art (Kansas, USA)
Photo credit: In View Images
Lisa Shepherd, 2020
At the time when I created this mask, local businesses were beginning to open up again. British Columbia has successfully flattened the curve. However, the situation feels precarious. At the beginning of social distancing, a softness came over people as we began to truly recognize our interconnectedness. At this time, however, it seems people are feeling emboldened, impatient and angry. This is the first pandemic in which social media exists. It has allowed us to virtually be together. It makes knowledge quickly available. However, it also allows for people to publicly display their anger. Strangers instantly react to strangers in a war of words. This feels out of balance to me. I hope this mask restores some balance, in even some small way.
I created this mask to honor the people who have passed on to spirit. I want them to know they are remembered. For their families who are grieving. I want them to know that they are seen, that their grief is known. I feel that when we wear a mask, we do it to make space safer for those around us. When we put on our masks, we are honouring all these lives.
Horse hair tassels hang below the medallion. Métis are horse people. Our horses were part of our Ancestors' day to day lives. "Buffalo Runners" were well trained and valued for the role they played in the great buffalo hunts that provided for communities. I was taught that the Métis were responsible for the Canadian, a breed of well-muscled horse that could be used for both riding and driving. So important was the horse to our old ways that a horse's gallop is even echoed when we dance our traditional dances. Many Métis today still work with horses.
Beaver fur trims the edge of the raised beadwork medallion. Historically, beaver fur was an important trade good. It brought our great grandfathers to this land.
The blue zigzag porcupine quills were added to represent water. The water and the berries together provide sustenance for the journey home.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, porcupine quills, horse hair, tin cones, cotton "kohkom" print lining)
Of note: Commissioned by the Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art (Kansas, USA)
Photo credit: In View Images
Lii Michif
Lisa Shepherd, 2021
I want you to see the movement of the lines and hear in them the sound of the fiddle and the muffled horse-cantered step sound of the moccasins on the wood floor. I want you to know the connection of this to the buffalo runner horses and the fiddler on the prairie plains, practicing for the great buffalo hunt, and to realize that this is where the RCMP got the idea for their Musical Ride.
I want you to see the blue of the ribbons and to know they go with the tan leathery wrinkles of my grandmother’s face and her striking blue eyes that would stop you in your tracks. The Blue Eyed Grandmother, with her full, aproned belly that cradled many babies lovingly; brought life from spirit through water and to this world. She had skillful hands that pulled thread through fabric and beads, outfitting the entire big family out of necessity. After Grandpa passed, she drove the Team for the trading company, steadying the horse on the ferry that pulled away too soon, she in the cart, bobbing along on the North Saskatchewan River.
I want you to see this mask that, rather than hiding my face, exposes my identity, and wonder about the stories that Great Auntie told me, in trade for a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Years later, whenever I pass a KFC, it’s my heart that smells those spices first. Auntie kept our stories, and in her 90+ years was still quick as a whip and could recall all the birthdates and death dates and all the life in between the two. Those stories are for me, and my family, and if you are dear to me, I might share a few.
I share these stories through my beadwork, and hope they inspire you to embrace your own authentic stories that are personal to you.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, ribbon, cotton lining, tin cones, hand-tied tassels)
Of note: Commissioned by Museum Natur und Mensch (Freiburg, Germany)
Photo credit: In View Images
Lisa Shepherd, 2021
I want you to see the movement of the lines and hear in them the sound of the fiddle and the muffled horse-cantered step sound of the moccasins on the wood floor. I want you to know the connection of this to the buffalo runner horses and the fiddler on the prairie plains, practicing for the great buffalo hunt, and to realize that this is where the RCMP got the idea for their Musical Ride.
I want you to see the blue of the ribbons and to know they go with the tan leathery wrinkles of my grandmother’s face and her striking blue eyes that would stop you in your tracks. The Blue Eyed Grandmother, with her full, aproned belly that cradled many babies lovingly; brought life from spirit through water and to this world. She had skillful hands that pulled thread through fabric and beads, outfitting the entire big family out of necessity. After Grandpa passed, she drove the Team for the trading company, steadying the horse on the ferry that pulled away too soon, she in the cart, bobbing along on the North Saskatchewan River.
I want you to see this mask that, rather than hiding my face, exposes my identity, and wonder about the stories that Great Auntie told me, in trade for a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Years later, whenever I pass a KFC, it’s my heart that smells those spices first. Auntie kept our stories, and in her 90+ years was still quick as a whip and could recall all the birthdates and death dates and all the life in between the two. Those stories are for me, and my family, and if you are dear to me, I might share a few.
I share these stories through my beadwork, and hope they inspire you to embrace your own authentic stories that are personal to you.
(Mixed media: Velveteen, glass beads, ribbon, cotton lining, tin cones, hand-tied tassels)
Of note: Commissioned by Museum Natur und Mensch (Freiburg, Germany)
Photo credit: In View Images
Donning a Black Hat & Mask
Lisa Shepherd, 2021
It’s the 3rd wave and, like everyone else, I’m tired of the pandemic. I've suffered personal loss and heartache. It's been a hard news week. I miss gathering with friends and I long for my out-of-province family. I want us to once again have something that resembles “normal life”. ...but we aren’t there yet. It’s time to gather up everything I've got, be a bad *ss, and don a black hat and mask - the kind that might be worn by the tough guy in an old western. Except I'm not a tough guy.
I'm a Métis lifegiver, and my strength is softer. And so, flower beadwork works its way through this black hat and mask. Like a silver umbilical cord, the thread that holds the beads has reached out from the past, through my needle, and across time to future generations. I welcome the courage of all our Ancestors to wrap around me and help me on this journey. Fierce resilience are in these beads, and they connect to feminine spirit. It is the stuff of healers. The beadwork is the nurturing of generations of moms, aunties, kohkôms. It carries with it the strength of our matriarchs, and for that, I am full of gratitude.
(Mixed media: Melton wool, glass beads, ribbon, tin cones, kohkôm print lining, elastic, deer hide.)
Of note: Acquired by the Royal Ontario Museum (Toronto, ON)
Photo credit: In View Images
Gratitude to Jamestown at MacInnes Farms for location use
Lisa Shepherd, 2021
It’s the 3rd wave and, like everyone else, I’m tired of the pandemic. I've suffered personal loss and heartache. It's been a hard news week. I miss gathering with friends and I long for my out-of-province family. I want us to once again have something that resembles “normal life”. ...but we aren’t there yet. It’s time to gather up everything I've got, be a bad *ss, and don a black hat and mask - the kind that might be worn by the tough guy in an old western. Except I'm not a tough guy.
I'm a Métis lifegiver, and my strength is softer. And so, flower beadwork works its way through this black hat and mask. Like a silver umbilical cord, the thread that holds the beads has reached out from the past, through my needle, and across time to future generations. I welcome the courage of all our Ancestors to wrap around me and help me on this journey. Fierce resilience are in these beads, and they connect to feminine spirit. It is the stuff of healers. The beadwork is the nurturing of generations of moms, aunties, kohkôms. It carries with it the strength of our matriarchs, and for that, I am full of gratitude.
(Mixed media: Melton wool, glass beads, ribbon, tin cones, kohkôm print lining, elastic, deer hide.)
Of note: Acquired by the Royal Ontario Museum (Toronto, ON)
Photo credit: In View Images
Gratitude to Jamestown at MacInnes Farms for location use