There are countless images on canvas and in stone of the Madonna and Child, but representations of Fatherhood or of Father and Son are rare.

Fathers-and-sons are largely ignored in visual art and overly-studied in history, kings and their sons in particular. The ordinary day-to-day living together of fatherhood is largely ignored by art in favour of Madonna giving suck.

The two glabrous humanoids are metaphorical, and intertextual references to Bill Reid’s humanoid figures in his large Raven sculpture in the MOA at UBC.

The Father figure swings the Son figure around himself in a playful moment, like might happen at the shoreline of the beach or in a sandbox in the playground: an everyday moment that becomes indelible and unforgettable in retrospect. The Child is delighted, the Father looks on lovingly.

Daedalus plays the role of an archetypal father figure in Western Culture. He is also a sculptor and a painter, like me. He has nothing but best intentions for his son, but it all comes to nought in spite of everything.

Daedalus’s most singular creation were the wings he created to fly him and his son Icarus out of prison on Crete.

As I made the piece its place in the context of my other work became clear, Angel With Broken Wings, Pocahontas, and Raven Steals The Son, all speak of extreme anti-Indigenous racism, and Daedalus does as well. that the figures were a response to the thousands of Unmarked Graves being discovered in the playgrounds of Indian Residential Schools.

The Son figure rises out of the ground, a spirit, like a flame. The Father figure reaches out to embrace him, they smile, look into each other’s eyes, rapturous at their reunion after so many decades apart.

The children at Indian Residential Schools were told their parents didn’t love them, which is why there sent them away to school. The grief of the Residential School separations resonates in Indian communities to this day.