As discussed in Lot 60, the 1960s and 1970s marked a short but dynamic chapter in the history of whale bone carving. Though the practice declined with the introduction of tighter regulations and shifting priorities, works like the present figure offer a window into this moment of experimentation, when artists across the Eastern Canadian Arctic explored the unique textures and forms that whale bone could offer.

Unlike Lots (58, 59, and 60), the present work by Davidee Piungituq—an artist once widely collected, though now regrettably overlooked—offers a different approach to whale bone. Rather than sculpting freestanding forms, Piungituq has embraced the natural contours of the vertebra, carving scenes in low relief across its surface. These vignettes unfold across what feels like a shared landscape: hooded hunters, a man with arms raised in triumph, and, with a touch of humour, the rear end of a polar bear scrambling into its den.

The bone’s anatomical features, particularly the upward-reaching projections known as processes, have been cleverly reimagined as the polar bear’s head and outstretched paws, integrating structure and story with brilliance.

Rather than presenting a fixed sequence, the carved scenes suggest a fluid, open-ended story. Are we, perhaps, witnessing a successful hunt unfolding across time; do we begin with the hunters spotting the bear, watch it retreat to safety, only for the tide to turn as it's captured, celebrated? Or are these series of parallel moments drawn from lived experience and collective memory? Piungituq offers no clear answer, only a bone animated by possibility, where humour, skill, and storytelling converge.