Marie Watt’s installations are created—and lifted—by many hands. Suspended above us, her sculptures invite us not only to look, but to gather, breathe, and take part. Inspired by the Coast Salish story Lifting the Sky, as shared by Vi Hilbert of the Upper Skagit tribe, Watt reminds us of a powerful lesson: that even in moments of fragmentation, people can come together. In the story, the sky has begun to press down on the world, dimming the light and overwhelming life below. The people, though separated by different languages, find one word they can share: yəhaw̓—to proceed, to move forward, to do. United by breath, intention, and rhythm, they lift the sky.

Her sculptures are not passive objects; they are participatory spaces, built through communal labor and activated through presence. The tin jingles that hang from her clouds are drawn from Indigenous traditions of making, adornment, and healing. Historically crafted from the rolled lids of tobacco tins, they reference the Jingle Dress Dance, which originated with the Ojibwe during the influenza pandemic in the early 20th century. That dance, born from a dream, was a call to healing—a choreography of hope that defied colonial bans on Indigenous ceremony. Passed from community to community, it became a radical gesture of resilience and care. In Watt’s installation, these jingles hover between earth and sky. They are light and resonant, yet also hold weight—historical, cultural, and spiritual. As you walk beneath them, you are invited to brush them gently, to breathe a wish into the air, to listen to the sound that rises. Each note is small, but not insignificant. It joins others, creating a quiet chorus of shared intention. Here, sound becomes a form of holding.

In a time when many feel disconnected, Marie Watt offers a space where difference does not prevent connection. Like the word yəhaw̓, this work moves us toward each other.