KLUKWAN — The Jilkaat Kwaan Cultural Heritage and Bald Eagle Preserve Visitor Center opened on Saturday, May 14, marking the first time in recent history the fabled Whale House artworks have been on public display.
And since no photos are allowed within the gallery, you’re going to have to go see these much-lauded carvings chronicling Klukwan’s history for yourself.
“It’s like the Sistine Chapel,” said Steve Henrikson, curator of collections at the Alaska State Museum. “It’s just mind-blowing that such a thing even exists… And to have them display in something akin to their original setting in a clan house, it’s like stepping into one of the Winter and Pond photos of the inside of the Whale House from the late 1800s but in color and in three dimensions.”
The Whale House posts and screen have long inspired devotion and obsession in those who’ve seen them — or only photos of them. But that desire has also lead to some of the ugliest episodes in the Whale House and Klukwan’s history. As a consequence, they’ve been much out of the public eye for the last century.
“There have been rare occasions in the last 30 years where if you were in the right place at the right time you might have gotten to see it,” said Henrikson. “but it’s been kept very much put away especially since there was the close call when it almost was sold. There are people who have grown up since that time who are actually members of the clan who probably have not gotten the chance to ever see it.”
The details seem basic enough. There is a wall screen and four corner posts. The Rain screen, or Seew X’eeh, is 11 feet tall by 16 wide and depicts a Raven with outstretched wings surrounded by a repeated crouching figure representing raindrops. It tells of the Gunaxteidi clan’s close ties to Raven and how, like raindrops, Raven’s actions touch everything.
To the left is the Woodworm post, Tlukwx Ass A Gass, which tells the story of how the Ganaxteidi came to Klukwan from Prince of Wales Island. The top figure is of the girl who raised a woodworm until it grew to a monstrous size. Her family reacted badly when they found out and the village men killed it. The event ended up dividing the village and her family left to found Klukwan. Across from it is the Black Skin post or Dukt’ootl Gass, also called the strong man post, representing the story of Tlingit hero Dukt’ootl, shown splitting a sea lion in half.
To the right of the screen is the Raven post or Yeil-gass, representing the capture of T’a, the King Salmon. Raven is shown in human form at the top of the post holding a head that represents the adze and from his mouth is a figure called “Tu-kwut-lah-Yeil” or “telling lies Raven.”
The Sea Creature post or Gunakadeit Gass across from the Raven post represents an episode from the adventures of Raven and the sea creature Gunakadeit. Gunakadeit holds a whale with its tail in his mouth. The top figure represents Gunakadeit’s child and the legend of Daughters of the Creek about how his daughters became the old women who live at the head of every stream and are responsible for the yearly return of salmon.
But it’s the artistry that makes the Whale House artifacts so coveted.
In the early 1800s, the Ganaxteidi were experiencing a period of great wealth.Their leader commissioned the Michelangelo of the day for a new clan house that would showcase that wealth.
This Michelangelo, the same who designed the interior corner posts of Chief Shakes’ house, was for a long time unnamed in history and much of his story remains unknown. His name was unearthed by a Juneau museum curator in 1987: Kadishdu.axtc.
Ironically, the name was preserved by one of the first men who made a concerted effort to remove Kadishdu.axtc’s art from Klukwan.
In 1922, Louis Shotridge offered the Ganaxteidi $3,500 for the Whale House artifacts. He was an unusual acquisitions agent: Tlingit and from Klukwan, his father had been the keeper of the Whale House. Now he was back trying to buy its treasures for the University of Pennsylvania’s museum. The Ganaxteidi refused.
He would try over and over again, at times protesting that under Western law, he was the rightful heir to the Whale House. His actions caused so much acrimony in the village a peace-making ceremony suggested. He eventually backed down, but when he was found dead with a broken neck, rumors persisted that the men of Klukwan had killed him though it was ruled an accident.
For a while, the Whale House fell into disrepair. A mudslide destroyed the building and for 25 years the priceless artifacts were left outdoors under a tarp. Community members built a poured concrete building to keep them safe from the elements but the contested keepership of the new Whale House left an outlet for the next man to exploit.
Michel Johnson was a Seattle art dealer who became obsessed with objects as a teenager. The first time he saw the rain screen and posts in person, he wrote $100,000 on a piece of paper and handed it without a word to the caretaker. That was his first attempt. By his final one, the price was $1 million.
In the 1970s and 80s, he offered to buy them repeatedly, forming sales agreements with just about anyone with claims to Whale House. In 1976, he arranged for a truck to move the artifacts out of the village — but the residents were warned in advance and blocked the roads with fallen trees.
In 1984, he was more successful, getting one faction within the tribe to sneak the objects into Haines and from there to Seattle. But when the rest of the village discovered they were missing, they sued and the objects were locked into a Seattle warehouse by the government for the duration of the ten-year trial.
Klukwan succeeded in getting the artifacts returned, but not before opening up divisions within the community still felt today.
“I would like to acknowledge a group of people who had a big part in this too and I don’t know how to do it. I don’t want to stir up any trouble or any hurt feelings,” said Lani Hotch at the center’s grand opening, before honoring the legal team that reclaimed the artifacts.
The case had a direct effect on how the village treats its treasures. Hotch said now “there’s motivation to protect them and keep them here.
“In my mind, they lose value when they leave the community that they originated from. To the people in New York it is an interesting artifact of a culture and a day gone by. But in our community, they have cultural significance and they’re part of our people’s history and our identity.”
It’s a sentiment Henrikson backed up completely: “When you consider how many Tlingit artifacts have been distributed around the globe in places other than Tlingit country, it seems to me perfectly appropriate to have some of the best still preserved here.”
• Contact staff writer and design wizard Randi Spray at randi.spray@capweek.com.
