Denis Wolfsong Tribute

Denis Wolfsong does not live in the Mohawk community of “Kanehsatake” or the village of Oka, but on the forested banks of the Ottawa River, a site not served by the municipality’s water supply that is regularly flooded in the spring.

An Algonquin Métis by his mother, he also has Mi’kmaq roots by his father.
– With Scottish origins, he he explains.

He is one of the many Quebecers who, at one time or another in their lives, have felt a deep need to rediscover their roots and begin this quest for identity in order to live in harmony.

Even if the Métis are not recognized in Quebec, for him, the adventure quickly took the form of a daily commitment in his community…

A serious accident at work in 1996 when he was an electrician made him start a long journey.

– That was in ’96. It was a wake-up call,” he recalls gravely.” he says.

A powerful moment that he describes as a healing process encouraged him to reconnect with his Native American roots and follow a tradition more suited to his aspirations.

A musician, he plays the flute and sings with his drum among his family, continuing this adventure with tradition by taking part in family pow wows.
Denis still remembers the first fire he lit in Odanak.

– It had no spiritual connotation, it was a simple fire but we kept it burning until the next day, he says as Maya, a Malamute dog, comes and stands quietly in front of him.
– The following year, there was this meeting with an “elder”.

– John Running Deer’s, an Abenaki from Massachusetts, he says between two silences.
. It was he who led the ceremony.
He insisted on sharing, and authenticity, simple gestures. He made others participate, he was open because in the United States, it is less so…

As I listen, Maya gets up and rushes across the terrace, resting her front paws on the patio railings.

The next day, he remembers, there was a “Native American Names Ceremony”¹Naming ceremony: a traditional name with a specific symbolism or personality trait is given during a ritual, he says.
– When he died, his nephew, Ackai took over in Odanak. It was he who baptized my granddaughter, Lily Rose”…

At this evocation, the corner of his eyes crinkles and his lips sketch this smile confident in the future, making me understand that the meaning of life is there, in this hereditary transmission of the principles that he acquired by the experience.

Denis does not make great speeches; it is always a succession of silences shining by their intensity, this emotional language which is proper to him and which overcomes all conflicts. And when he takes his flute or handles the drum, the magic happens…

– Being Metis or not, doesn’t change anything to his personal commitment, nor to his involvement in the annual pow wows. Authenticity is at the heart of this spiritual approach, despite its social and festive nature,” he explains.

Like most dancers, he takes advantage of winter to modify his regalia or create a new one with new beading patterns according to his personal inspiration.

He adopted the wolf as the animal of his clan, symbolizing the messenger, associating it with his

dancer’s costume and the ornaments adorned with pearls, feathers and bone that he makes at home with great care, respecting the original colors and craftsmanship of the period. The initial hues are less vivid than those of today’s costumes, and much more natural.

– Red ochre is linked to life force, he says.

It is a powerful symbol among the natives.
Known to hunter-gatherers since the Paleolithic era, its use was found in the rock art of the Wapizagongue, in the Mauricie Park, as well as in burials and sacrifice sites. Natural mosquito repellent, this pigment was used during pow wow, hunting or war for its protective properties. In the Laurentians, ochre was extracted from the Red River.

I often visited Denis before the Covid pandemic, but I didn’t know then that this would be the last time we’d see each other.

These are the last shots we took together during the summer, one of those deeply moving moments of sharing and complicity, before he left us abruptly in the dead of winter.

Many will remember the resin-scented tepee with its carpet of fir leaves, the sounds of the drum and the laughter shared by the fire.

And of the warrior’s shield he had made and painted, adorned with an eagle, the totem animal revered by all natives…