David Ikutaaq’s name has, regrettably, slipped from common conversation in recent years, though his work, to us, merits far wider attention. He is closely aligned with the Qamani'tuaq approach to carving, where forms are pared back and stated plainly. Surfaces are kept open, and the carver allows weight and contour to do the work.

In the present work, that discipline is immediately apparent in the bold, simplified masses and in the carved faces that carry Ikutaaq's unmistakable touch. The composition, described best to us as a "dog pile", sets its figures into contact so direct that you can almost feel the pressure of bodies stacked and the warmth they would gather.

The scene invites more than one reading and Ikutaaq does not allow for a single answer. Perhaps the figures have drawn together for warmth, sharing a moment of family closeness against the bite of cold air. Perhaps a favourite sled dog has tried to slip away, and the child has climbed onto its back with a burst of determination, while the mother joins in, turning the chase into laughter and embrace. Lovely.