To the untrained eye, Linda Selanoff’s ceremonial bear park recently helped create appearances reminiscent of a clear plastic jacket. The translucent coat, decorated with fur and shells, is waterproof, windproof, light and durable. It is made from the intestines of two bears, which were painstakingly cleaned and stitched together over the course of two weeks by Selanoff and other Chugach Sugpiaq and Eyak women in Alaska’s Prince William Sound region. “I’m honored to have had the opportunity to learn a lost art, a lost skill, and then bring it back to the non-museum area,” Selanoff said. June Pardue showed participants how to prepare and sew this bear gut in a park. (Submitted by June Pardue) There’s a touch of reverence in Shelanov’s voice when she talks about it. Speaking with Northwind host Wanda McLeod, Selanoff described the process behind creating what was once a common and vital tool for hunters who kayaked to collect marine mammals. Unlike many parkas that are joined together – front, back and sides – the enteric parka is sewn in a continuous circular motion up to the chest area. Soft blades of beach grass line the seams and puff to prevent water from seeping through the needle holes — a special waterproof stitch that’s vital to the construction of this parka. The complete ceremonial parka features fur trim and fancy stitching. (Submitted by Diane Selanoff)
Keeping the story
When Sugpiaq Elder June Pardue was very young, her mother Sophia Jane Johnson showed her on tobacco paper how to fold and sew this special waterproof stitch. Back on Kodiak Island, where Pardue is from, a gut park has been established for the past 15 years or so. But for Prince William Sound’s Sugpiaq, it’s been 100 to 150 years since the last gut park was sewn. Pardue led the team in creating this latest bear gut park, showing them the process as her elders taught her. “I’m so grateful that my mother shared these things with me so that it all came back to me,” he said. “It was a long process. It was a beautiful process … and it was glorious.” Joyce Kompkoff Peterson, left, and Diane Selanoff examine the parka sleeve. (Submitted by Diane Selanoff) Pardue said they made the parka ceremonial instead of functional because they didn’t have enough guts to make the hood. This gave them the opportunity to add embellishments – adding fur around the neck, wrists and lower opening. “There were artists working with me and I could see, wow, their eyes light up. They became artists,” he recalls. Collectively, they designed the decor using seal and sea lion fur, embellished with seashells and red beads. Selanoff said her hope is that this project will be the beginning of a process to bring the bear gut park back to modern use. “We’re able to continue to teach and share the knowledge we’ve learned and how to build another gut park. Hopefully, in the future, this will become more common,” he said.
“Copper River sockeye were running”
The park will remain with the Chugachmiut, the nonprofit Alaska Native agency that collected the class as part of its language and culture program. Selanoff said the tip to create the park came from the Chugachmiut senior citizens program. “We all decided it would be a great idea to try to recreate the intestinal park because the knowledge of how it was made was lost in this area,” he said. The parka’s sleeve lining features seashells and red beads attached to seal fur, with sea lion fur in between. (Submitted by Diane Selanoff) While Pardue, Selanoff and the other participants did the sewing work, it ultimately became a community effort. The weather was perfect when they started gutting in early June. They sewed the parka itself in a large building in Córdoba, where people from the community helped to remove the thread for sewing and cut the pieces of fur for finishing. “People were so excited. They even brought food to keep us going,” laughed Pardue. “Copper River red salmon was running. So people brought in Copper River red, smoked salmon jam, sandwiches and salads, fish heads — it was just great.” When the park was finally finished, the community hosted a potluck to celebrate. “It was a celebration of their first garment that had been made by their people in over 100 years,” he said.
