Kangiqsujuaq artist reflects on a lifetime of soapstone carving

Mark Tertiluk picked up his first rock 66 years ago and carved a seal from it.

He tried to give it to a local white man in Quaqtaq, where he lived at the time.

Mark Tertiluk sells his soapstone carvings to Tiivi Galleries in Kuujjuaq, to the FCNQ and in his own house, in Kangiqsujuaq. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)

“The white man did not want it, so I threw it away,” Tertiluk said, laughing, in a phone interview.

Now 77, Tertiluk is one of the most experienced soapstone carvers on Ungava Bay. His five sons are carvers, too.

The first time he carved, the only tools available to him were an axe and a round file. Polishing was out of the question, too, as sandpaper and oils were not available yet to create that iconic shine of soapstone sculptures.

“When I started, I had lots of difficulties,” Tertiluk said.

“I used to be very slow.”

Over time and with experience and better tools carving got easier, he said.

Tertiluk said nowadays, machines make it possible to work with harder materials, like the ones he currently uses in Kangiqsujuaq.

It takes him about three hours to carve a piece, then he uses sandpaper and water to smooth it out. Next, he puts it in the stove for around an hour to harden the stone. After that, he uses a special varnish to make the carving smooth and shiny.

In about five hours, Tertiluk has a brand new piece of art with his signature, which looks like a smile, under it.

“That’s quick for me now, before we had to do it with bad tools,” he said, adding that what he does now used to take him days to do.

In the winter, Tertiluk takes grey stones from the mine, which he says is about two hours away. He said it’s “very good stuff, very hard, but it gets very shiny.”

He brings the rocks to his workshop, a small wooden shack behind his home next to the bay, and goes to work.

Tertiluk puts on his mask and protective glasses, then starts the fan that blows away the dusty air. Sometimes he can spend hours creating his pieces.

He said he’s inspired by the work of carvers in Puvirnituq and Inukjuak.

“They are really clever. I cannot do what they do, they really have experience,” he said. However, he added, he’s been able to make carving a craft of his own.

“I have my own way to do it, we’re all different carvers,” he said.

Mark Tertiluk’s small workshop is behind his home. He says he avoids working there in January because his hands can get really cold in there at that time of year. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)

Makivvik has hosted carving courses that Tertiluk said can be a great place for carvers to share skills. Artists from all corners of Nunavik gather and learn about safe ways to perform their art.

The last workshop like this was five years ago, he said.

Tertiluk himself was a teacher for a course that was held in Aupaluk.

“I liked to go to those courses because they sell tools half price,” he said jokingly.

In those workshops, they talked about how to make carvings, how to use the machines and how to be safe while working.

“Before, in the Sixties and Seventies, we did not use masks or safety glasses,” he said.

Now it’s required that carvers wear it to avoid inhaling soapstone dust.

“We were really dusty back in the day,” he said, laughing.

Tertiluk has taken on many jobs over his lifetime, from working in the mines to being a teacher. He retired at age 65, yet there is one thing he said he will never retire from doing — stone carving.

“I like to do it, and I am going to do it this afternoon,” he said. “It’s raining, but I will go anyway.”