Indigenous

Six Nations artist makes unique chess set from Haudenosaunee corn husk dolls

Angel Doxtater, from Six Nations of the Grand River, Ont., created a chess set completely out of corn husk dolls - a Haudenosaunee craft that was passed down from her mother.

'These dolls mean more than just corn husk to me,' says Angel Doxtater

These corn husk dolls were made using purple husks from flint corn that Angel Doxtater harvested. (Submitted by Angel Doxtater)

On one side of the chessboard is the Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) nation. The other represents the Seneca nation. 

Both are viewed as the older brothers in the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, which is why Angel Doxtater thought they'd be great for a duelling game of chess.

Doxtater, from Six Nations of the Grand River, Ont., recently completed the chess set made out of Haudenosaunee corn husk dolls. She plays chess with her nephew, and thought it would be a fun and functional art project to work on.

"As a Mohawk, we're very political. We're known globally as being these political people. There's a lot of political art out there, which is good. But I really wanted to go on something kind of fun and functional and something that everybody gets," said Doxtater.

It took about two years for Angel Doxtater to complete this chess set out of Haudenosaunee corn husk dolls. (Submitted by Angel Doxtater)

What are corn husk dolls?

The Haudenosaunee never put faces on corn husk dolls. While the teachings vary, one story recounts how a corn husk doll was given a beautiful face. She would go from village to village to play with the children but grew conceited, spending her days staring in the water at her reflection. Eventually, she fell in and her face rinsed off.

Mohawk artist Elizabeth Doxtater creates fine works of art with the traditional art form of corn husk dolls.

"It really depends on your family and what your family has talked about or heard, what nations, because there's corn husk doll stories all through Haudenosaunee territories," she said.

For Doxtater, she was told by her grandfather it was a story about loneliness.

"Loneliness is a pain that nobody can fix except yourself, he said, but that's why they used to make these dolls," she said.

"Because if you are missing somebody who passed away, you could make this doll and because there is no face to it, you could imagine that person as being that doll."

For the chess set, the rear pieces stand 25 centimetres high, about the size of a Barbie doll. The kings hold Two Row Wampum belts. The rooks hold lacrosse sticks, and the pawns have water drums.

Each doll was wrapped, sewn and beaded by Doxtater, with some help from her mother for the bishops.

The Seneca dolls are in white regalia and are made with purple husks from flint corn. (Submitted by Angel Doxtater)

The Kanien'kehá:ka dolls are dressed in purple regalia, while the Seneca dolls are in white regalia and are made with purple husks from flint corn. Flint corn has shorter husks than the white corn husks that are more commonly used, according to Doxtater, who harvests the husks herself.

"It takes a bit longer to make your dolls with it. Throughout the last couple years, I've had to save that purple husk that I've gotten from the fields and put that away," she said.

"When we get the husk, we have to make sure that we have enough from now to last us until the next harvest. It's not like I can just walk to the store and say, 'can I buy some husk?'"

Passing skills from one generation to another

It took over two years to complete the entire project, following a $4,500 craft projects grant from the Ontario Arts Council in 2018. She said the extra down time during the pandemic helped her finish the remaining dolls.

Doxtater has been making corn husk dolls since she was a child.

"My mom taught me. I spent a lot of years on the powwow trail with my grandparents... They were crafters, so they always had a booth," said Doxtater.

The Kanien'kehá:ka dolls are dressed in purple regalia. Each side's king holds a Two Row Wampum belt. The pawns have water drums. (Submitted by Angel Doxtater)

"These dolls mean more than just corn husk to me. They're a gas bill. When I was a kid, they were school clothes. They're time with my mom sitting there with her by the wood stove, wrapping dolls, talking about what we're going to do when we sold them."

Now she said, her daughter is keen on learning.

"My daughter's nine and she's starting to take on everything. She's making pop sockets already. She's doing beadwork already, and she's asking to make the dolls already," said Doxtater.

"I think she's the one who is probably going to carry this tradition on for my family."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ka’nhehsí:io Deer is a Kanien’kehá:ka journalist from Kahnawà:ke, south of Montreal. She is currently a reporter with CBC Indigenous covering communities across Quebec.