Arts & Culture

Indigenous Artists Shine at the Winnipeg Autumn Art Fair

The annual fair brought together emerging and established Indigenous creators whose paintings, beadwork, and sculpture celebrated cultural resilience and connection to the land through bold contemporary forms.

By Natalie Carver • 2025-10-18

Under the soft glow of gallery lights in downtown Winnipeg, the Autumn Art Fair opened with a burst of color and rhythm that felt more like a gathering than an exhibition. The annual event, now in its 12th year, drew crowds eager to experience the vibrancy of Indigenous art that bridges ancient storytelling and modern expression.

Artists from across Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Northern Ontario filled the hall with beadwork, textiles, paintings, and sculpture. “It’s not just about selling pieces,” says organizer and curator Angela Spence. “It’s about connection — between artists, audiences, and the land that continues to inspire everything we create.”

Among the featured artists was Cree painter Jordan Whitecloud, whose large-scale canvases blend bold acrylic strokes with motifs from traditional stories. His latest series, Sky Carriers, explores the bond between people and the night sky. “I paint what my grandparents told me — the constellations that guided our hunters and families,” he explains.

Beside Whitecloud’s booth, the scent of cedar filled the air from an installation by Métis sculptor Denise Lavallee, who incorporates reclaimed wood and sinew into her work. “It’s about remembering what’s been taken and what still lives,” she says. “Art can be medicine, but it can also be defiance.”

Visitors moved slowly through the aisles, drawn in by texture and story. Pieces sold quickly, but conversations lingered longer. “There’s this energy here that you don’t find at most fairs,” says gallery owner Robyn Hughes. “Every booth feels like a heartbeat — like something alive, still speaking.”

Organizers say attendance has more than doubled since the fair began in 2013, thanks in part to growing public interest in Indigenous art and reconciliation efforts. “People are ready to listen — and to support,” says Spence. “But what matters most is that Indigenous voices lead the way, telling their stories in their own words.”

Workshops and live demonstrations also filled the weekend. Visitors could learn traditional quillwork, screen printing, and even digital design rooted in cultural symbolism. “We want to show that our creativity evolves,” Lavallee said. “It’s not frozen in time. It adapts, it grows, and it belongs to today.”

For young artists, the fair offered visibility and encouragement. Twenty-year-old beadworker Talia Moose received her first gallery invitation during the show. “I was nervous setting up,” she admits. “But seeing people connect with my work — seeing them recognize patterns their grandmothers wore — it means everything.”

As evening settled, a small drum group performed in the courtyard outside the venue. The sound carried through the chilly air, echoing off the old stone walls. Visitors paused, some closing their eyes, as the rhythm intertwined with laughter, conversation, and the quiet hum of community.

When the doors finally closed Sunday evening, the hall felt less like a marketplace and more like a circle — one that continues to expand. The Winnipeg Autumn Art Fair, in its humble way, reminded everyone that Indigenous art isn’t just surviving; it’s thriving — and leading Canada’s cultural renewal, one story and stroke at a time.